Heaven

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Jack groaned when he opened his eyes.

His head ached and the bright light surrounding him was not helping.

"God, how many did I drink last night?" he wondered quietly.
"This must be the worst hangover I've ever had."

"You drank three bottles, Jackie. And you're not hungover," said a familiar voice softly.

"Dad? But you're..."

"Dead?" Teague finished, smiling humourlessly.

Jack nodded.

His father looked exactly the same as ever, still wearing his hat and long scarlet frock coat, silver crosses and other trinkets tied in his black dreadlocks.
Rings still glinted on his fingers.
He still carried his guitar.

"Welcome to Heaven, Jackie," he said, Captain Saluting him before pulling him into a hug.

Jack buried his head in Teague's shoulder, breathing in his familiar smell of wine mingled with a faint whiff of gunpowder and something he couldn't identify but was distinctly Teague.

Teague released him and grinned. "Come on. Your mother's waiting."

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