Work Text:
It's a Hard Rain's a Gonna Fall
“It’s a hard rain’s a gonna fall,” he said, looking at the graveyard ten thousand miles behind him.
Broken tongues. Guns and swords in the hands of children. Wounds caused by hatred. Women burning. Blood dripping. Hammers bleeding.
The world’s gone to Hell. He doesn’t want that for his darling son.
“Thunder’s a warning,” he said, looking at nothing, hand heavy on his son’s shoulder.
They sit side by side on the front porch, white paint peeling, worn steps sagging, sun setting in a deep blood orange.
Blue eyes turned to look at him, confusion clouding them.
“Look for rainbows.”
His son nodded, looking away, eyes searching the darkening sky.