She arrived too late.
Never even believing in the existence of a superior entity
in the first place, she wished to God that he
would come back. She would give anything to see
that crooked smile of his and his bright eyes.
But he's gone. Irreversibly gone.
That bastard. He *promised*. He promised that
he would always be there for her. Always there to
watch her back, but all he did was succeed to prove to
her what she already knew. Everyone
disappoints, *everyone* inevitably leaves and betrays.
Foolishly, she entertained the notion that he
would be different. What a load of shit that all
turned out to be.
He knew. He knew all along what was going to happen.
The inevitable outcome, and that bastard
didn't even bother to tell her about it.
*****
She stood in front of him; ready to meet whatever was
planned for them head on. Her eyes were fiery
and ready for action. His eyes deeply contrasted
hers; they were calm and somber. He knew that
whatever happened next would be a whirlwind of activity.
Now was the time to savor the peaceful
moment, to appreciate their very last moment of tranquility
before everything around them exploded
into a mess of chaotic insanity.
She couldn't accept things as they were though.
She never had been able to just sit back and revel in
moment. Neither had he before that day, but things
have happened that changed his perspective.
Her voice was clouded with uncertainty and anxiousness.
She wasn't ready for what laid ahead; she
didn't think that she would ever be. "Almost time."
"Yeah." That one little word conveyed so much, his
agreement, his acceptance of the things to come,
his surety.
"Let's go then."
His hand shot out to catch her sleeve, halting her movement.
"Max, if anything happens out there
tonight--" His clear eyes were tortured, sad. But
yet, they were calm, ready to face his fate.
She inhaled sharply, whenever he talked like that, she
didn't know what to think or expect.
"*Nothing* is going to go wrong." She denied every
possibility of an untimely fate for either of them.
It just wasn't fathomable, wasn't meant to occur.
"Pretend. If something were to happen--"
That was enough, she didn't know if she could take hearing
another word uttered out of his mouth.
Talk like that never brought any good. "Dammit,
I don't want to listen to this stupid 'what if' scenario!"
The night had already been torture and she couldn't even
grasp the possibility that it might get worse.
"Max." One simple statement of her name made her
want to scream out in frustration. He already
accepted it. Whatever 'it' was.
The simply spoken word of her name made something inside
her explode. How dare he utter her
name as if everything was fine? It wasn't!
She took a deep breath, she sounded crazy, even to
herself. "Fuck you! I don't want to hear
anymore of this crap form you. *We're* both going to get
out of this, in one piece. Understand?" She
wanted to believe it, she earnestly prayed for it to be
true. Perhaps her outburst was more for her benefit
than it was for his. Her lip quivered as she tried
her hardest to keep the tears in check. It wasn't
a good time to get emotional.
His eyes softened, he was unfazed by her flare-up; it
was expected. He just didn't want her to hurt.
Denying reality now and watching from above it all would
surely cause the inevitable fall to be hard.
"Please be realistic." His voice pleaded for her
to understand. He wished with his entire being that she
would.
The sensible tone in his voice caused the unsettling lump
in her throat to amplify ten times. Turning her
eyes heavenward, she prayed that she wouldn't have to
face any more disasters. Her reply was in the
form of soft raindrops, lightly pelting her face.
The darkening sky had a menacing gloom about it.
"Shit."
"Max, I want to listen to me carefully." The quietness
of his voice spoke volumes. "Get out.
Whatever happens, promise that you get yourself out.
Promise me." His voice momentarily broke
from its normal composure and came out fierce and determined.
His jaw tightened, revealing to her
the seriousness that he felt.
"Get out with *you*, right?" Her eyes stared back
at him, sincerely wishing that he would answer
positively, but knowing that he wouldn't.
"Max--" There it is again, that voice. She couldn't
take the calmness that he had with the situation, with
that conversation.
"Shut up! I get it...there's a possibility...of..."
She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, so she
just let it hang. He knew what she meant.
"Promise?"
Her eyes were suspiciously bright as she nodded slowly,
she didn't trust herself to talk. She simply
nodded.
"Whatever happens, know that...that I love you, very much."
It was a simple declaration of affection.
Unhindered by hidden agendas and ulterior motives.
It was just what he truly felt. He paused to gently
cup her cheek with his hand, lightly grazing her skin
with his thumb. He wanted that picture of her
implanted in his brain. "No regrets later.
It's not your fault."
"What?" Her breath left her, her feet felt uneasy beneath her.
With one poignant smile, he pulled her towards him and
laid a soft kiss on her forehead. "Whatever
happens, it's not your fault. Remember that."
With one pained cry, she roughly pulled him to her and
crushed him in a tight embrace. He returned
her hug with enthusiasm. After all, it could very
well be the last time they saw each other.
*****
That jerk knew. He knew that it was going to happen.
He *knew* that he wasn't going to make it out
and he didn't even have the decency to tell her?
Why? So he could 'protect' her? She didn't need it,
she didn't need his protection, she needed him.
She closed her eyes, painfully relieving every single
excruciating detail. She arrived there too late, but
early enough to see the fuckin' bullet go through his
head. She could literally *feel* his pain as smooth
metal bit forced its way through his skull. It
felt like her entire body exploded as his limply fell to the
ground, dead.
The pain. It hurt so badly, an excruciatingly intense
feeling of her heart shattering into a million pieces.
The second his breath left him, part of her died along
right with him. It hurt so much that she even
considered following him, but she couldn't. She
promised him that she would get out of there, and she
couldn't break her promise, he meant too much to her.
But how could he do that? How could he willingly die? How could he just leave her like that?
His sacrifice wasn't what she wanted. She wanted
him, with her, alive. The choice was taken away
from her when he chose to give up himself. The
control was snatched away and what replaced it was
sheer helplessness.
She wasn't strong enough, wasn't fast enough. Because
of her inadequacies, he was gone. It was all
her fault. It was her fault that he was dead.
Closing her eyes, she let her mind adjust to the thought.
Her fault.
<<Whatever happens, it's not your fault. Remember that.>>
That bastard knew. Why else would he have said that?
Expelling a shaking breath, she finally let a
tear roll down her cheek, unashamed. She cried
for him, for his sacrifice. For his forgiveness.
*****
END
Vague, I know, but I wanted to write a dramatic piece,
unhindered by the distraction of a specific male
lead. So that explains why 'he' is never named.
Speculate all you want, I don't even know. I kind of
pictured both of them (Zack and Logan) while I was writing.
