Bramblepoint how precious time placed it's hand on me

He could see his son’s hesitation and it took him back.  Back to his own death and how angry he’d been at himself, at the whack-job who’d attacked him, and at whatever fucker chose who lived and died.  But anger didn’t change anything.  He’d still been gone.

There was so much I wanted to do with you kids.  But I wasn’t there.  Instead I got to watch you grow up, watch others do the things I wanted.  And despite everything, despite me, I think you both turned out pretty okay.  He took a slow step towards Bronco, then stopped.  His shoulders dropped as he gave a slight ghostly sigh.

Just wish I could’ve made things easier for your mom.

For the first time, regret was clearly etched in his expression.  She’d found another, even had more kids, and thankfully gone on living. But his shadow had hung over his son, the spitting image of him, and Colt wished more than anything he could have taken that barrier away.

I wasn’t ready either.  I had to trust you were strong enough.  And that she’d take care of you.  He’d done a shit job of accepting that at first.  Far too little and far too late, but at least he got to feel like some semblance of a father here.

Their time grew short.  It was too little, but now that he was here….

Colt looked at his son, eyes full of warm understanding.  Regret for the things he hadn’t done.  Pride for the things that had been achieved nonetheless.  When you are ready, I’ll be there.