The Beauchamp Chronicles, Ficlet

notevenjokingfic:

One Quote, One Shot, Book 2


The Dream


“But how come the bones are still there?” she asked him.  

He huffed impatiently.  “Some bones become encased in sediment so quickly they become fossils. Air gets shut out, so decomposition can’t occur.  You know this, Girl.”  He spared a quick glance at his niece’s face.  She was deep in thought, her brow furrowed.  The heat of the day had pressed damp curls to the back of her neck.  He refocused on his work. 

“So, Uncle Lamb,” she asked quietly, moments later.  “If I dug up Mummy and Daddy, would their bones be fossils?”

His hand slowed in its work.  He waited a bit, then put down the soft brush he was holding.  This child had come to him after his brother’s death, much like the broken piece of pottery he was trying to unearth.  The shell of her resembled a little girl, but the cracks showed, and the pieces were barely held together.  Over the years he thought he’d done a good job of putting her back together, of repairing her, but it seemed that her heart was still empty. 

“We never dig up the ones we love, Claire.  We let them rest in peace.  We already know their history, we understand them.  There is no need to disturb them.”  He lifted a curl away from her skin.  

She nodded, picked up his brush, and took over his work with care.  

He sat back, and let her. 

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