Work Text:
To say it had been a long day would be an understatement. Ben's heart and limbs weighed heavy, exhaustion, grief, and guilt eating away at his insides like relentless vermin. He laid curled up with his jacket as a makeshift pillow as the train lurched and swayed around him. The freighter, loud as it was, did not drown out the self-blame that pooled in his head and chest.
He swore he'd never sleep, not like this. Yet, his body had something else to say, and his taut muscles slackened as his eyes closed.
In a flash, he was standing in a field of flowers. Lush hills of blue hydrangeas stood distant like mountains, and between were stalks of purple hyacinth and blankets of pansies. The sights and smells were nearly enough to put him at ease.
It was when he turned around, however, that reality came upon him like sickness.
Among the flowers stood Katjaa, illuminated by sunshine, arms full of meadowsweet. When she looked at him, her eyes wrinkled with a smile he could not reciprocate. Self-loathing lapped at him like the ocean at a rocky cliffside.
"Ben," she said his name, and he could've fallen to his knees. She held her arm out to him, little leaves clinging to her skin.
"Kuh… Katjaa," he stammered back at her. Something was boiling behind his eyes. "I'm so sorry, I never wanted this, I thought I was helping and then by the time I realized I didn't—"
"Honey." Her voice was soft, yet stopped him in his tracks. She shook her head. "I know you didn't mean any harm. What happened? That wasn't your fault."
"But it is," he cried, his heart threatening to drop from his chest and land amongst the flowers. Would he kill those too?
"You tried to reason with the unreasonable," she said. "It was foolish. But it was those bandits who invaded, who destroyed our walls."
"But they wouldn't have come if I—"
"What's done is done." Brow now furrowed, she waved her hand as if to wave off his concerns. It didn't change anything. "Work with what you have now. Make amends however you can."
An image of Kenny, framed in sheep's sorrel, flashed into his mind for a fraction of a second. It was enough to make dread take root, and a desire to lift this godforsaken burden grew from it.
He blinked, and Katjaa was gone. The squealing of tire on track could be heard as he watched a single butterfly climb into the sky.