Notes:

This was written for the Phmonth19 (tumblr event) prompt "Remembrance" in addition to the first verse + chorus of the song "For Forever" from Dear Evan Hansen (listen while reading for maximum feels)!

This fic was originally supposed to be much longer (I would have gone through the whole song), and it would have fit the remembrance prompt much better… I may still finish it at some point-(please let me know if you're interested in reading more!)-but this was all I had time to write for Golden Trio week this year. I rather enjoyed what I had, though, so I decided to post it anyways! But it was written pretty fast, so please forgive any silly mistakes XD

Oh, also, this is supposed to take place in the 80s! I decided to pick a decade other than our current one for fun!

"I don't believe in absolutes."

"I know. But wouldn't it be great if at least one thing was?"

Forever. Such a simple, too-big concept. You can throw the word around with ease in conversation, but feel like your head might explode if you try to wrap your thoughts around it's true meaning for a mere moment. It's hard to comprehend, no matter just how many centuries you've been alive. How much you've lived. How much you've forgotten.

But a moment, that's easy. A moment is now. Now and gone. A moment is tomorrow. A moment is yesterday. A moment is today.

It's easy to forget that…that's all forever is; just a series of moments. A string of todays on a necklace of tomorrows. But in the end, when the number of moments gets too high, they become jumbled, they fuse together, they get pulled and taut, the fall off the chain.

But then there are others, pendants that shine amongst all the bland links… moments you'll never forget.

It's the tiny moments that make forever count.

"Oz! Oz! Listen to me when I'm talking to you!"

"What?! What?!" Oz ripped out his headphones, spinning to the driver, "You said I could listen to music!"

"I said you could listen to music, that doesn't mean you can stop paying attention entirely!"

"Well if you'd let me play it in the car I wouldn't have to ignore you to listen to it!"

"That's because what you call 'music' hurts my head!"

"What, quality music hurts your head?"

"Ooh, what's that?!" Alice poked her head in between them from the back seat—(she had never been quite satisfied about being forced to sit in the back, but Oz had called shotgun)—pointing to an animal in a pasture beside the road. "It looks like it would be good to eat!"

"You don't know what a cow is, stupid rabbit?!"

"That's a steak?!" She blinked. "Lemme eat it! Lemme eat it!"

"Not now, Alice!" Oz had to pull her down, keeping her from jumping out the car to attack the innocent livestock. When Oz had sufficiently talked her down from the edge, he turned back to his friend,

"What did you want to talk to me about, Gil?"

"Nevermind, it…doesn't matter now."

Oz glared at him as he put his earbuds back in, sighing, watching the greenery go by.

A simple trip to go get ice cream was proving more trouble than it was worth.

A lot of things proved more trouble than they were worth when it came to Oz and Alice nowadays. Alice had always been known to find the simplest of things strange and fascinating, but this was another level; they could barely walk two feet without one of the two stopping to admire a newspaper stand, or pointing at a parking meter and asking what that was, or picking up a candy wrapper in a sewage grate and asking what this strange object was, or even pulling at his coattails to ask about a particularly funny looking bird (that last one was Alice).

Still, even if it was annoying, he couldn't fault them too much; returning to the world after a hundred-year absence was bound to do that to you.

Gilbert had wanted to introduce them to another, particularly yummy modern thing; ice cream. But, only a few miles out from the house and he already had half a mind to turn around.

But only half.

The wind brushed through their hair, picking up the empty sleeve of Gil's jacket as they drove down the road, winding in and out of evergreens.

Gilbert owned a much safer, less cool car, but when his two best friends saw the other car in his possession there was no turning back. It was a recent acquisition, as it was Vincent's old car, which he wouldn't trust to anyone else (…and he didn't completely trust Gil with either), and Gilbert had done everything in his power to hide it from them, knowing how they would react. They had finally begun to grasp the concept of cars, and so peeked under the tarp, then proceeded to gasp and throw it off at the sight of a shiny, red, convertible mustang. All they had to do then was hug Gilbert's ankles, and beg in the highest of voices for him to take them for a ride in it.

So here they were, sometime in early June, driving down a country road, bickering about music and cows.

A picture perfect afternoon.

Gilbert looked over at his best friend in his sweatshirt and ripped jeans, tapping his leg—to what could be anything from Michael Jackson, to Journey, to Black Sabbath—his golden hair flickering in the afternoon light, and felt his lips curve into a slight smile.

They arrived at the ice cream parlor half hour past when he originally thought they'd arrive, due to this and other distractions, (such as Alice stopping to intimidate a squirrel who "looked like it was askin' for trouble.")

The bell on the door jangled as they walked in, the brightness of the turquoise walls matched only by the assortment of hues of the frozen treats themselves, as well as the other candy toppings on the counter.

Oz's green eyes glittered with stars as they fell upon the list of flavors, and the physical manifestation of this thing he'd only heard stories of. "Wow, there's so many! How do you choose?"

Gilbert shrugged. He had explained what it was before they arrived, but they often still had trouble understanding until they arrived.

Alice was…less impressed.

"Where's the meat?" She looked around a finger to her chin.

"There is no meat, Alice," Oz put his arm around her, "It's sweet!"

"What kind of lame ass food-shop doesn't have meat?!"

"Not so loud Alice." Oz murmured, glancing around and smiling awkwardly at the people sitting the little tables around, who had turned to stare. "Why don't you just try it? You might like it!"

Alice grumbled…so did her stomach.

"If you hate it, Gilbert will take you for the biggest piece of meat we can find."

"I'll what now?"

"Now we're talkin'!" Alice marched happily up to the counter.

Three cones later—one vanilla, one strawberry (because it looked the most like meat), and the last with three scoops, the first peanut butter, the second chocolate, the third banana, all covered in extra fudge and sprinkles (Gilbert warned Oz it would make him sick, but he got it always)—and they headed off to the park nearby, licking—(they had to stop Alice from biting hers at first)—their treats as they strolled along the sidewalk, chatting about trivial things.

"This is… nice," Oz said softly as they sat in the grass, gazing up at the endless blue sky, glancing every once and a while to check on Alice as she ran at ducks in the pond nearby.

Gilbert nodded. "Mmm. I told you you'd like it, didn't I?"

"No I mean…this." He picked at the grass, "Being here, with you two…" He looked up into the sky, as if his gaze found a place far from what was actually there, "It's just…" he turned to Gilbert, and his eyes set, "There's no where else I'd rather be."

Gilbert remembered him say those words a long time ago, and felt a smile tug at his lips, in addition to tears at his eyes.

Oz had no idea. No idea how long Gilbert had waited for him to come back. Just how long he had waited, with nothing but a memory of those words to keep him going. How long a hundred years felt without moments like this. That the hours dragged on without any perfect afternoons—because even the most beautiful of afternoons could never be perfect without his best friends in it. Oz had no idea just how deeply he felt the next words,

"Yeah. Me too."