Shattered Glass, Broken Dreams

I turn to look at her. She is sleeping still, the sun playing across her face and her blonde hair. And I wish, as her stomach moves with each breath, I wish for her to never wake up because I know the pain that each day brings her. I see the pain reflected in her blue eyes and traced on her face in a frown. I see her pain but she never lets me in.

I have become her "project", her piece of clay and she has the power to mold me as she wishes because I am helpless with love when she looks at me. There is something about her, something buried so deep, and so far from any trace of light on the world, that is so beautiful, so rare, and pure. She can't see it but it blinds me.

It blinds me with love. There are times when I catch myself staring at her too hard, looking upon her face too long, losing myself in that glow inside her.

That glow is dangerous for me. It swarms into my mind even when I am sound asleep and it dances in my dreams. Even when she is the Darkchilde, her glow is there. It billows out around her hair, and catches in her eyes. Forever scarred there, a reminder of what was and what may be.

It blinds me, her glow. It blinds me until I am not sure whether it is her that I love. Have I fallen in love with her glow, with the silent whisper of perfection that exists behind her fierce sneer?

No! No, I will not think such things. I love her. I adore her. I am hers forever and always.

As I run a finger down her cheek, I begin to wonder if she is mine. With the dawning of every new day and the start of each night I tell her, I whisper in her ear, that I love her. I say it so much that I'm not sure she even believes me now.

She sleeps in my bed and I know the warmth of someone lying next to her when she wakes is reassuring but I'd like to think of myself as her "lover" rather than just her "companion". If I touch her in the night, she shrinks away as though my fingers burn her skin. Yet, when she has had a long, rough day it is she who starts it, she uses my body to relax and unwind. Nevertheless, she is not happy with me, she shares nothing with me, not even a smile or tear.

I sigh and turn onto my back, staring at the patterns in the ceiling, thinking about us. How long has it been now? How many years have passed since we were just "team mates"? One, three, five, I'm not even sure anymore. The only thing I remember is that I started it. It's all my fault that we're stuck together in a horrible, unforgiving relationship where neither of us is happy. I want to her to be happy. I want it so much that my heart aches when I see her looking sad but I can't give her up. I can't. I love her too much.

It was in the late summer and we had just gotten back from another life threatening mission. I had nearly been killed, I WOULD have been killed if Illyana hadn't teleported me out of harm's way. The Animator would have shot me, I would be dead. But I didn't have a choice. If I hadn't jumped in front of Rahne, she would be dead but thanks to Illyana we're all alive.

She was standing with her back to me, looking at the lake, and I wanted to help her so much. I suddenly had the urge to save her soul the way she had saved my life. And for the first time in my life, I, Douglas Ramsey, made a move. Without even a small hesitation, I walked over, spun her around, and kissed her, just kissed her.

It was the sweetest, softest kiss in the world but Illyana broke away as though I had bit her. Her eyes burned into me, an icy blue color that made me want to crawl under the closest rock and die.

"Why did you do that?" she snarled emphasis on her every word as the wind tossed her blonde hair around her face making her look lovelier than ever.

"I wanted to thank you for saving me life," I whispered, keeping my gaze steady on her face.

Now it was her turn to shift slightly and look away. "You're welcome, Doug. If you want to thank me, though, you should just leave me alone."

"I don't want to leave you alone," I said simply and listened to the catch in her breathing with a hint of pride. I had never thought of Illyana in a romantic way before. Truth was the girl really intimidated me. Her power was so awesome; almost limitless when she was in Limbo, and her strength, her outer facade of it anyway, created a great wall she could use to fend people off.

Girls like Rahne and Kitty were more along my speed, Kitty especially because of all the things we had in common. However, I couldn't deny that Rahne was infinitely sweet and easy to be around. There were just so many obstacles on those relationships; Kitty was still weary about guys after the whole incident with Peter and Rahne's heart was firmly attached to Sam.

So there I was, staring into the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen, even if they were glaring daggers at me. That was when I first saw it. Her glow. It shone out of her eyes and clung to the strands of her hair. It was everywhere, all around her, and it was gorgeous. I had never seen anything that pretty before in my entire life. From that moment on, I was stricken, I was blind, and I was hers.

"And why is that, Douglas?" Illyana inquired, her eyes softening just a tad.

At first I winced at her use of my whole first name but then I realized how playful her comment had been, how longing. "Because I can't stop looking at you," I told her.

As she stepped back, I saw the glow recede telling me that her walls were coming up again. "I'm not much for sappy lines."

"I was telling you the truth," I tried to convince her as I reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. That's when she hit me, smacked me right across the face, turned and stomped off. I knew, I knew right then that I was in love as I watched that glow stream behind her, calling me, goading me. I was lost forever.

It was an uphill battle all the way to get her to trust me and to realize that my feelings for her were genuine, that I did love her. Finally, after about a year of ups and downs, screaming and hitting, she conceded. Illyana Rasputin, the girl with the will of steel, simply gave up, shrugged her thin shoulders and said, "Okay, let's try making this relationship work."

We never did "make it work", though. We never have and we never will. This relationship was doomed since its birth and she suffers for it. I don't want her to suffer so but I can't bear the thought of losing her glow, I couldn't stand it. Without her, I can't be whole. No, without her glow I can't be whole. I don't even know Illyana.

My hand brushes against her back and she mutters something under her breath and moves away again. She moves as far from me as she can without falling off the bed. I want to touch her, hold her, and love her the way she should be loved but she won't let me. To her I am just someone to be there when she wakes up, a warm spot to remind her that she is not alone.

I am hers forever and ever but she is no longer mine. Hell, she was never mine.

When she cries, and I know she cries, she slips out of our room. Any time she is upset she leaves our bed and tiptoes down the hall. She goes to Bobby and she cries to Bobby. Her soul belongs to Bobby not me, never me.

And I love her. No, I love her glow, I love the way my power lets me see her. I don't love her. I can't love her because I don't even know who she is.

When she's with Bobby, talking to him and even, God forbid, laughing with him, I try to ignore it. I try to pretend that I don't see the way her glow reacts to him, the way it shimmers and sparkles when he's near. Illyana loves him, it's written in her every pore, her every cell, but she's scared of being rejected, so scared that he doesn't love her back.

This fear of rejection makes her stay with me because I am a rock. She knows that as long as I am here there is something she will be able to fall back on. I will always love her, always be hers forever and ever. And that is what keeps her with me, that is what she holds on to, my stability. As long as I am here she will never become anything else, she will always be scared, hurt, and alone.

I can't do this to her. I will not hurt her anymore even if it means giving up that glow, that beautiful, blinding glow. After all, I have been blind for too long.

With the utmost haste, I slip from our bed and quietly get dressed. I have decided, my mind is set, I will no longer be her piece of clay, the sharp rock onto which she dashes herself again and again. I love her glow. I don't want to see it die, snuffed out by a life of misery. That is why I am leaving.

My hand is shaking as I set the note on the nightstand, suitcase in my other hand. After pausing to look at her one last time, to study the sunlight in her hair and the glow around her body, I lean over and delicately kiss her cheek. This is the last time I will see her, touch her, smell her, and somewhere, deep within my heart, I am glad. I have been blind too long.

I walk to the door and look at her one last time. But this glance is not one I will remember, no, it is the first one I will forget because this time she doesn't glow. With a smile on my face, I close the door to our--her--bedroom and walk swiftly down the hall.

I already miss being blind.