He knocks on their door, already hearing distant high kid voices and a low, muffled reply to them. He cherishes it. He believes that he is only person in the world who appreciates the normalcy that describes his life now this much. He must be. After everything that happened the past years, gratefulness for even the smallest things comes naturally. It’s some sort of ever present fog in his mind, clouding all his sensations. He hears little footsteps nearing the door and when it gets opened, the first thing he sees is his baby niece puking over his brother. He smiles. Good times. Before he can walk in, the little boy that opened the door is trying to climb on him, while simultaneously telling him about something of which he can only really make out the words dinosaur and TV. Meanwhile his brother cracks a clumsy smile and hands over his baby girl to his wife. “No hugs for you then, pops” he tells his brother, pointing at the now babypuke covered shirt. It’s still a little unnatural for him to see his little brother with his own kids. It’s not that he isn’t good with them, he is. He was always good with LJ too, and back then he was still a kid himself. It’s probably just the whole picture. Not too long ago he had feared for his brother. Feared that he just wouldn’t make it, despite his brother’s and his own attempts. There had been some really dark periods. He had feared that he just wouldn’t ever be able to be happy. That the Panamanian prison had been just that one thing too much. But here he was, finally experiencing the things Lincoln had always prayed his brother- his damaged, young brother- would get to experience too. Fatherhood, a good woman, marriage, puking kids, happiness, crying babies, fights over forgotten groceries, love, peace…

 

He is dragged back to the present as the little boy attempting to climb up on him is near pulling his pants down. So he lifts the boy up and sits down with him on the nearby sofa. While the boy makes himself comfortable in his lap, Lincoln eavesdrops on his brother and his wife quarrelling. “That shirt just came out of the laundry.” “I told you you shouldn’t be that wild with her.” “It doesn’t matter what you and Linc did as kids, she is a girl, Michael” “Just take the blue shirt that’s in the bedroom”

 

A while later they’re sitting in front of him happy and loving though. His brother talking to him while kicking away the ball that his son throws at him continuously. His wife giving him loving looks as he talks, which he misses, but Lincoln doesn’t. And he again can’t help but think that this is what he deserves, what he has always deserved. A loving family and everything that goes with it. And he’s so glad that there are little Michaels now. Little ones with big blue eyes and an annoying pout when things don’t go their way.

 

It was really the least he deserved, with having already lived through the pain and suffering not even a 80 year old has at just 33.

 

It’s what he deserved but never got.

 

So instead Lincoln places an origami crane on his little brother’s grave, and walks away with his son, just a few years younger than his brother would ever be, leaving memories of things that never happened with the small paper crane on that little piece of earth

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This is the first fic I ever posted so I feel like a teenager on her first day of her first job. That's right, I'm kindly asking for feedback !

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