Work Header


Work Text:

The church is unimpressive, squat against the sky. It doesn’t seem grand enough for him to have gotten dressed up like he had.

Still, he feels like he owes them this.

He shakes his head. He can’t quite believe it. After all these years; both Bodie and Doyle. Macklin glances at his watch.

He’s late.

Curling his fingers tighter around his cane, Macklin hobbles into the church.

He finds a seat near the front next to Susan and Murphy. Their grown-up daughters are on either side. Macklin braces himself for what comes next.

Don’t start.

He always cries at weddings.