m_findlow

Title: Home is where the heart is
Fandom: Original
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 7 - Travel plans at fandomweekly
Summary: Kensley is preparing for the last big trip of their lives.

Scott Kensley sighed as he looked around the cramped apartment. How had it gotten in such state? He secretly knew the answer. Reggie had always been there nagging him that they had too much stuff. Kensley sighed again. He hadn't realised he'd been a hoarder, but now that he thought about it, he knew Reggie had always been fussing about keeping things neat and tidy, and getting rid of stuff they didn't need.

'We don't have the luxury of space,' he always told Kensley. 'They didn't make the space station quarters big enough to hoard stuff. That's how we got the planet in such a mess in the first place.'

'We've got plenty of room,' he'd always reply.

Now when he looked around, he wasn't sure how things had gotten to be like this. There'd been space enough for the two of them once, and now that he was on his own, there should have been more than enough room. He'd always thought it was Reggie's presence that filled their apartment, but now it was everything else Kensley held dear. Reggie was gone, and all he had to remember him by were the things they'd once shared. He couldn't bear to throw away a single solitary item.

He'd have to get it all packed away eventually, he knew. That could wait for now, though. He just needed the essentials. When he got back to Earth, their old house would still have plenty of furniture and other knick knacks they'd left behind so very long ago. He hoped the moths and the silverfish hadn't gotten into the fabrics. He wasn't worried about looters or squatters. Their home up in the mountains was so isolated you wouldn't even know it was there.

Going home would be such a relief. He'd already made a request to the Assembly, several in fact, but this time he was sure they were going to grant him leave. He could feel it down in his old bones. After forty years, he was finally going home.

'We shouldn't have waited,' he said to the empty room. He often caught himself doing that, talking as if Reggie were still here, and worse still, waiting for an answer. He'd never really gotten used to living here alone.

'If we're lucky, we'll get there just in time for the first snows,' Kensley muttered, folding a shirt and setting it into an ancient suitcase he hadn't used in more than twenty years.

He loved waking up in the old house on the cusp of winter, watching as the porch became dusted with the first icy layer of frosts. The mountains and the lake were beautiful with their dusting of white. Roxy and Harry, their two dogs, loved winter almost as much as them. Roxy would leap out through the door and sniff curiously at the piles of snow on the porch as if she'd never seen them before, jumping in delight as the icy sensation caught her nose by surprise, and wandering around with a little mound of it on her muzzle. Harry used it as an excuse to curl up at their feet in bed, refusing to move, finding the hardwood floor too cold for his liking.

The house wouldn't be quite the same without them, and without Reggie. He wondered if dogs were still allowed on Earth for those lucky few still living there. Surely there were. That much wouldn't have changed. He could drive by a rescue home on his way up to the mountain. Every dog deserved a good home. They could keep each other company.

'What kind of dog should we get?' he asked. 'Something small that we won't have to chase. God knows I'm past running up and down the mountain. Something placid that can sit by the lake with us.' He wasn't going to spend all season cooped up in the house. He'd spent enough years stuck in this place without any atmosphere. Polluted or not, the air on Earth had to be better than no air at all. He'd rather freeze in the snow than rot in the depths of space.

He grabbed an album and pressed it into a narrow space down the side of the suitcase. There was a box on the floor now full of empty photo frames, too bulky to pack, but the photos were going with him. Who knew how long it might take to get a transport ship to come and collect the rest.

The last item to go in was a tall silver canister. He touched it reverently as if it could sense the way he handled it. All that was left of his husband lay inside. At least they'd let him keep it. The traditional protocol of ejecting ashes out into space felt wrong to him.

'I hope you don't mind the accommodations, Reg,' he joked, carefully wrapping the canister setting it between folds of his clothing. 'It's just temporary until we get home. Think of it like a lie in in bed.'

He stood upright, hearing the clicks of bones protesting at the movement, and looking around to see if he'd missed anything before zipping up the case. All the furniture, the books, trinkets from when they'd traveled the globe, and several glass awards recognizing Reggie's contribution to the future survival of mankind would stay behind for now. He'd miss having them around, but he wouldn't miss this place. It didn't feel like home anymore.

He reached down to grasp the zip with slightly arthritic fingers. His gaze rested on the contents. Gently, Kensley pulled away a knitted sweater and gently lifted the canister back out of from between the folded clothes. 'Perhaps now is too soon,' he murmured. The green light to leave could be mere days away, or it could be weeks yet. He brushed away the layer of dust that had accumulated and set the canister back in its place upon the mantle. 'I promise I won't leave you behind, my love.'