Archive of Our Own ^beta

That was...

When they told her he was gone, she knew immediately what had happened. What, and where, and how. Not because she had been there to see, but all the same, she had known that it was.

...when I saw him fall...

She is not a fanciful woman. Not given to imagination or daydreams, she is practical. Steady. Others (like the colonel) rely on her to keep her cool, to be rational and calm, to shoot straight. Talk straighter.

She is known to have a clearsighted awareness of what is real, and what is not--the alchemist's soul appreciates her, with her almost scientific dedication to what can be seen and touched, and proven. She doesn't jump to conclusions without getting all the facts.

but I saw him fall...

Dreams aren't something she puts a lot of faith in, or pays much attention to--too many of hers are dark. The spectres that haunt the midnight hours between dark and dawn are fleeting, misleading, too often born of fear and the weight of the unknown, and she knows this.

In this unstable world, on the brink of war even now, she cannot afford to pay too much attention to the shadows which are everywhere, hiding in the dark places of the mind. It is too easy to let the doubt and the uncertainty paralyze the mind and cloud the thoughts which need, more than ever, to be clear and sharp and sane.

It does not do to pay much heed to dreams of ill-fate and calamity. They are far too common.

but I saw him fall...

There is one, though, that haunts her now, and she has to wonder if it was something that would have made a difference, if she had paid more attention at the time. One that makes her wonder if perhaps, some of her dreams are something of which she ought to take note. Impossible to know, of course, which ones, or why, but she can't help but remember this one image forever burned into her memory.

when I saw him fall...

What she could have done, would have done, she doesn't know. Maybe there was nothing. It's a risky proposition, too much so, really, to base any kind of strategy on the fear born of a nightmare. What she would have said, could have said, to change things, to cause anyone else to give ear to a warning she had only dreamed of, she doesn't know.

But she will never know, now, because when she heard the news all she could think was...

I saw him... that was it, when I saw him fall.

Saw him turn, saw the look of surprise, saw it change to shock and confusion, the weapon in a well-loved hand (but it can't be her, surely?) and heard, that single shot...

and I saw him fall...

I saw him.