Rook's legs folded beneath him as Borden recognized his face. "There you are," the thought came, repeated. The younger Lyall's tail waved and gently pressed his forehead to Borden's in something likened to a "hug." His father was still there and everything was okay. He inched forward to nestle himself into his parent's side, but watched sadly as his chance to answer the standing question quickly passed him by.
"No, no, no, no," he whimpered against his father's own whines. "No-no-no, Dad, it's all right, it's okay..." It was in desperation that he nosed Borden's ear, wanting so much to see that knowing look again. "Look at me," he implored with a soft yip, the sort of tone a cub would use when they were begging for just a few minutes more of playtime before bed. "Please."
Impulsively, he set his ear to Borden's ribcage, that rugged heart beating, albeit in a slower rhythm than he last remembered. As much as he wanted to make Borden look at him, Rook simply looked on in anguish, uncertain as to what he should do. The cues of pain on the patriarch's body were hard to miss. His ears were pinned back, his brows were drawn downward and though his eyes never looked for Rook's again, Rook knew then that this was it. After this, there would be no more...
No more theatrics, no more tricks, no more deceit... This was where The Prestige had finally come to light.
Had Rook been watching closely? Had this all been enough, for him, for Borden?
He couldn't be sure. All he knew in this very instant was that he wanted to be sure that he was loved, had been loved... and that Borden, too, knew in the very last moments of his life that he had been taken care of, coddled, and so very loved. "Dad?" he mewled, nosing the ear that had relaxed and grown still. There was no answer, not even sign of struggle nor a hint of prolonged pain. Borden looked as though he could have simply fallen asleep as his face further relaxed.
A long time ago, some five years before this very moment, Borden Lyall had come to Relic Lore to make name for himself when the stakes were high and he had nothing to lose. Now, in his stead, his lookalike son, the youngest of his brood, had come to take his place. Grizzly Hollow had been established and lost and reclaimed, and the family was still together, even if only in bits and pieces. If this was not a tale full of morals and examples to live by and a story of both loss and fulfillment, there would be no telling what was.
For all Rook knew, this was where his story truly began, where he would begin to pick up the rest of the pieces and make Grizzly Hollow something all his own. This was the Prestige where the thundrous roar of applause waited for him to take a bow. But, first... there was that first step to be taken. It came as an attempt to remove his like-sized body from his father's side, knowing that the warmth of Borden's body would cool and the motionlessness of his heart and chest would hold no comfort for his grief. Then, in a series of steps that led to and from the tree line of his part of the forest.
In his despair and heartache and stubbornness, Rook found he did not have the strength to carry on. He was still his father's son and so selfishly wished he had more time to be as such. Without much hesitance beneath a star-filled sky, he buried his face into Borden's shoulder as if it were the only sanctuary he had left, all the words and declarations of affection still unsaid on the tip of his tongue.
Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.