The Mediator: Twilight Ends

Ch. 1

Last Minute Realizations

"Oh, God," How could I have been so stupid? How, how, how? Here I was, watching movies –movies- with my boyfriend, never suspecting a thing. Thinking Paul would have to come here to the house if he wanted to travel back to Jesse's time. Thinking he wouldn't be able to go back if he didn't. Thinking he wouldn't dream of going back tonight, with his grandfather in the hospital. Thinking he and Kelly were together now, so why would he bother?

Paul didn't care about his grandfather. He didn't care about anyone in his family and never had.

And he certainly didn't care about Kelly. Why should he? Kelly didn't understand him, Kelly didn't know what he really was...

And, of course, there was another landmark in this century that had existed in Jesse's as well. A place Felix Diego had probably gone often, during his day.

The Mission. The Junipero Serra Mission, which had been built back in the 1700s.

"I have to go," I said, stumbling to my feet and diving for my jacket. I felt sick to the stomach. "I'm sorry, Jesse, but I have to-"

"Susannah." Jesse was on his feet as well, taking hold of my arm in a grip that was as strong as it was gentle. Jesse would never hurt me. On purpose. "What is it? What is this about? Why do you care if Paul is in the basilica?"

"You don't understand," I said. I really did think I was going to be sick. I really did. It must have shown on my face because Jesse's grip on my arm suddenly got a good deal tighter...

...just as the expression on his face got a lot grimmer.

"Try me, querida," he said in a voice that was as hard as his grasp.

"Please, Jesse. I have to do this,"

Usually I would be writhing in a grasp like this, but it was Jesse. My Jesse.

And then, -don't ask my how or what I was thinking, because, truthfully, I don't think I was- I said the four words that I'd known since the first day I met him, the four words that I truly and utmostly meant.

"I love you, Jesse," Even the huge lump in my throat –and heart- couldn't stop me from saying it loudly and clearly with enough passionista to last a lifetime...and maybe more.

"I love you so much,"

I guess I kinda startled Jesse -even though he and I both knew it, I hadn't exactly said it out loud- for he loosened his grasp, ever so slightly but enough for me to yank, and I mean yank, my arm out.

Yeah, yeah. Not the typical romantic slipping away scene. But did a typical romantic slipping away scene include a mediator chick who's most important task of her life was to save her loved one, who just happened to be a ghost? Well...what do you think?

All I knew was that I had no time. I had to go. I spun around, heading for the door.

"Querida," He whispered.

That voice, silky and smooth, always filled with love, even when it was mixed with concern, confusion and worry. A voice I would've died for. Or even more that that. More than dying, I mean. Now that I know that's possible...

And I didn't even know if I was going to hear it again.

I turned around slowly, my tears engulfing my eyes. Yet I could still see him perfectly. I was still melting in his impossibly deep, dark eyes and imagining myself ruffling his inky, black hair. And whether his amazing rock hard abs mattered so much anymore or not, I had to let my eyes wash over them one more time before I went ahead and did something I had always dreamed of doing – I traced his thin, white scar, which one of his eyebrows bore.

"Bye, Jesse," I didn't tremble but my voice was soft. A tear rolled down my cheek. I kissed his softly on the lips and I took off.

Well, I coulda said adieu. For all I knew, the could be the last time I ever saw him,

From then on, it was war. My tears and feelings along with my heart and my memories against good old me.

Except I was so good, then. Or old. I never really was.

I was running down the streets and every time I thought of Jesse, a huge blow just hits me. Hard. I dunno if it slowed me down because my legs were numb. I guess if it did I would be a funny runner.

Sprint –boom- fall back. Repeat every two seconds. For everything Jesse and I had done together started flashing in front of me.

The first time I'd seen him, perched on the window seat. The many times he'd saved my life...and the time when I'd saved his. The way he touched my cheek, the way he kissed me.

Everything was going round and round around my head.

And finally, I was sprinting down the halls of the Mission, my footsteps echoing off the walls, no louder than my own beating heart.

More like thumping. Just a little harder that that rabbit dude from Bambi.

Yeah, right. As if Bambi really fits in with this picture.

You know, the one where a girl is frantically running down a dark hallway...her doom chasing after her...

Beethoven, that's your cue.

Only that girl is me and I ain't running from my doom – I'm running to save someone from their "doom". Which means I'm running to that doom right this instant.

Hit it, James Bond.

Yeah, well, if you see this in a gallery, be sure to give me a call.

But I probably wouldn't be able to pick up. Remember, I'm running down a hallway to the "doom"? Oh, did I mention I was calling his name? Well, yeah. I was. Real loud.

"Paul!" I hollered. "Paul! Please listen to me!"

I dunno how long I had screamed for but finally, I found my answer.

Or doom. However you want to look at it.

"Hi Suze,"

I froze at the voice.

And he was standing only a few feet away from me.

Well. What do you know.