So, I haven't written an OC story in ages! (I deleted them all when I became obsessed with Lost) I hope you enjoy it, and don't find it too weird. I had the idea after watching City of Angels. Thanks for reading.
Depth of Forever
He's tumbling, soaring, freewheeling downwards; downwards into the never-ending darkness of the depth of forever, and a small smile starts to tug at his lips.
He hits the ground with a heavy thud that quivers through his body. He grimaces but the smile is still surfacing.
He can feel the sticky warmth of blood freefalling down his skin, and his smile cracks his mouth.
He runs his tongue over his lips; he can taste the sweetness of blood, and his sardonic smile is almost in full bloom.
The car is exploding around him, and his grin has never been wider.
(Am I going to-? I think I'm going to-)
His first thought on waking up was that he hasn't made it. And the bitter defeat weighs heavy in his heart. His eyes scan his surroundings; and surprisingly his second thought isn't 'Where's the car?' He sits up, and unexpectedly he feels no pain or stiffness.
(Maybe…maybe I made it. Is this what it feels like? Is this what it looks like?)
He's on his feet now and his eyes dart around…around, this place…this place of never-ending, infinite beauty.
"Yes." The voice startles him and he whirls around but nobody is there. He can't see another person for miles. He can't see anything for miles. "Yes." He doesn't recognize the voice, it's not soft, or hard, or loud, or quiet, the tone doesn't vary; it's just there.
"Yes what?" He asks. And to say that he couldn't see the person was unsettling is an understatement.
"Yes; it's the answer to your question. The question you asked when the speed of your car hit 110, the question you asked when it span out of control and you never slammed the breaks on; even when it was falling like a set of dominoes over the edge of the road; the answer was yes."
He swallows; hard.
(He's….he's dea-)
"It's hard to let go isn't it?"
The question is in the back of his throat, choking the blood to his brain, ringing in his ears over and over; but he doesn't think he can face the disappointment, if he asks for it to be answered.
Slowly, he turns around and he can hear the intake of breath that shudders and shakes its way through his body. He knows now that he's here. He made it. Their face to face now and she doesn't look like the too grey and too pale corpse he held in his arms, not so long ago. She looks like she did when he first met her; this dazzling, daring brilliance that was suddenly shining into his life. His smile is immediate, and he keeps beaming at her, and it's like his whole soul is a beacon of light.
"Yes, it is; but there's nowhere else I'd rather be."