More Animorphs.
I'm getting productive in this fandom, aren't I? Here's another shot of AU Animorph 'fic. (I so want to say Animorphic...)



No father should have to do this, Steve thinks.

No father should have to kneel in the rain and press frantic hands down, again and again, on his eldest son's freezing chest. No father should have to feel the cold stiffness of a child's dying body under warm skin and fingers that cannot do anything.

No father should kneel in the forest and desperately try to bring back life that is fading fast from his own child.

Tom's dying. There's a wound in his stomach at least an inch deep, and already he's lost consciousness. If this frantic attempt at resucitation works he'll live, but that is a fading possibility. Steve grasps at it anyway.

No father should have to pound down again and again to force life back into a son's lifeless body. Fathers die, and their sons grieve and move on.

Five minutes he's been here already, praying for the kick of a heartbeat underneath his palms, but nothing comes. There's no half-felt jolt, no tension as the lungs begin to fill. There's nothing.

At last, Steve takes his hands away. Jake's crouching beside him, staring intently at the corpse, searching for life in a beloved face that's now only a shell.

Jean is crying.

And all Steve thinks is, No father should have to watch his son die.



...wow. That was depressing.