111;

[flair]

Title: Skies Over London
Characters: England, Spain (in thoughts)
Rating: PG

For LJ's 50scenes' prompt 'Empty'

The pews stand empty, abandoned by strife and blazing skies. The door creaks when England enters, splintered and battered and god, he’s surprised the church is even standing. Above him, skies fly quiet and clouds drift their slow, lazy way. Water drips through the roofs, but it doesn’t matter to him; he collapses into one, against the altar and against the fallen Bible, pages singed and torn and yellowing from age. The skies are quiet, but flames burn and smoke twists and catches in his throat.

The church stands empty save him, and whatever pardon there might have been, he does not have it now. In the back of his mind he remembers a similar scene – church wrecked, the Holy Book bloodied and torn, a man slumped against the altar with exhaustion and sleeplessness written all over him – and laughs hollowly, squeezes his eyes against the pain and forces his arms to move, stiff and broken and bleeding pus. He crosses himself painfully, presses it against his heart and curls against the strong, charred wood, bids the tears good night and swears vengeance.

When he opens his eyes, determined not to die, he finds himself wondering if Spain had the same resolve all those years ago.