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Resurrection (Part Two)

The air carried their voices.

His brother, his mother. His fallen companions and all those Faramir's tired heart had ever cared for. The faded, the dead.

They sang his name. Oh, his mother and brother called him.

And he would go.

The air caressed Faramir's cheek, whispering comfort and beckoning him gently forward. Not unwillingly, he moved down the white-gold path, toward the void.

But faintly, his gut twisted. Something felt wrong-- his heart was not at peace. Just... tired. Oh, he was so tired.

He was ready to rest. To see his brother's warm brown eyes again and lean into his mother's embrace. The thoughts were almost too beautiful and tears pricked Faramir's eyes.

He was ready.

"No."

The air suddenly turned cold and the voices froze. The light before him turned brighter and Faramir stumbled back, terror gripping his heart.

"You must return."

Instantly, the terror vanished in a wave and panic overtook Faramir's thoughts. He stumbled back a step, looking wildly around. "No, I must go on! They call me!"

"It is not your time, Faramir."

The other voices were echoing in his head now, crying out his name and pulling him forward. Faramir could practically feel the fingers of the dead on his arms, dragging him toward the void.

Once more, terror was all Faramir could feel. But he didn't struggle-- he didn't want to. He wanted... he wanted...

"Faramir, please."

Faramir's heart dropped and a single tear trickled down his cheek. Yanking himself loose, he sunk to his knees, his heart twisting in his chest. It couldn't be.

"Boromir?"

The wind was whistling now and the world flickered in and out, sometimes gold and sometimes pure blackness. But before the black void, something moved.

Warm, brown eyes.

Boromir looked just as he had before he had left for Imladris. His shield was slung across his shoulders and there was a sad smile across his lips. To his belt, hung the Horn of Gondor.

No, Faramir let his head drop, closing his eyes tightly. Another tear squeezed out of his eyes, but he didn't dare look up.

He couldn't.

Suddenly, a warm finger brushed across his cheek, collecting the falling tear. A soft chuckle filled Faramir's ears-- one he would recognize anywhere.

But he didn't want to open his eyes. He didn't want to look up.

It couldn't be real.

"Will you not look at me, little brother?"

The temperature in the air warmed a little. But Faramir still flinched, clenching his hands into tight fists. Behind his closed eyelids, the darkness began to grow.

"Please," Faramir's voice came out as a begging whisper. "Let me be, let me die. You cannot be him... he calls me away."

Faramir could feel the presence shift before him, kneeling inches away. Then the warm fingers gently placed under his chin, tilting his head up.

"Open your eyes, Faramir."

Slowly, Faramir opened his eyes, letting another tear fall.

Warm brown eyes gazed into his own. Boromir smiled softly, the twinkle behind his eyes the very same as it had been they were kids, placing soldier behind the stables.