The rain finally stops by the time Leonard makes it to the cemetery. Still, it’s delayed him enough as it is, and he makes his appearance in his traveling coat and with all his bags.

People will probably talk.

He can’t bring himself to care, even if now he should probably worry more about his – the family’s – image.

The small chapel is filled with people, but mostly due to its size. There are some friends of the family Leonard recognizes, his parents’ classmates, the house staff. There are two clerics of Death whose names he doesn’t remember.

There is Faye.

She seems so tiny compared to the two imposing, closed caskets. Her boots are trailed with mud and her sleeves with tears, and she’s biting her lips far too much despite the comforting hand of the governess behind her.

The prayers end quickly. He takes his place by his father’s side, regretting that he can’t guide both of them to the afterlife, that he wasn’t there, that he had little part in any of the funeral preparations.

Still, they carry both caskets to the graves. He wishes their last journey wasn’t so wet and dirty, but all he can do is take care not to slip.

He throws the first handful of earth. Faye throws some light blue flowers into the grave, and their eyes meet for a moment. Her lips tremble, but she hurries along to the side even as more tears start falling, and the ceremony continues.

Leonard dreads the next part. Everyone says their goodbyes, and the priests call for the gravediggers, meaning people will come to express their condolences.

He would much rather be alone.

But before anyone else can approach, a tiny body collides into his side. Small, delicate hands grip forcefully onto his dusted sleeve, and Faye wails loudly and without words.

For a while, he stands frozen.

There are no words of comfort in his mind. Her tears only make him want to cry, too, so he hesitantly reaches out with his free hand and pats her head, pulls her a bit closer. Her crying grows more muffled as she presses her face firmer into his side, but what he doesn’t hear, he feels in the violent shaking of her body.

“Don’t cry,” he says helplessly. “Shh, don’t cry, we’ll… we’ll figure something out.”

It doesn’t help.

He hugs her tighter and rocks a bit back and forth in a way that he hopes is reassuring. It seems to work, but every so often the sobbing starts anew. He wonders if the stiff wool of his doublet is uncomfortable against Faye’s face, but she doesn’t seem to be willing to move.

Leonard rummages through his pockets, looking for anything useful. His last project is still in his coat, and he pulls it out, fumbling to wind it up one-handed.

“Look, isn’t this nice?” he asks, desperate, brain catching up way too late that a scorpion – albeit not a living one – might not be most people’s idea of “nice”.

She turns her head to the side, peeking at his hand. The clockwork isn’t very elaborate. The spring is only powerful enough to make it move each leg once, and to make the tail go back and forth a bit.

Somehow, she looks fascinated.

There are still tears running down her cheeks, seemingly endless, but she goes quiet, reaching a finger towards the toy.

Leonard winds it up again, and lets it loose on the back of Faye’s palm. She gasps, and quickly moves to cup it with her other hand lest it walks off and falls.

He is finally free to let go, but doesn’t.

“It’ll be okay, alright?” he whispers, however hard it is to believe now.

Even if it isn’t true now, he’ll make it so.

————

Better late than never? Also there are so many Faye and Leo pieces now that I’m losing count. Still, here are some: Fever, Like clockwork and Handmade Miracles, Promise