Disclaimer – I don't own any character mentioned herein, or the event around which this is based – please don't sue.
Summary – It's been two years since I've been in that box, two years I've lived on borrowed time… A Nick introspect, two years after Grave Danger. Angst alert!
A/N – I've just reread quite a lot of the post GD fics, and decided to add my own little angsty piece to this genre.
I've never really wrote a lot of angst before, humour and general character pieces have always been my thing, but please tell me what you think.
O, and I've never written anything THIS short before, but I hope it's still worth the read.
Two years have passed since that day. Two years…
For seven hundred and thirty days, I've been living on borrowed time.
Seventeen thousand five hundred and twenty hours. Give me a calculator and I'll tell you the exact number of minutes and seconds.
People may think I have a problem for working that out… I know I don't… I know it may have been that exact number of hours since I've been here, outside that forsaken hole, but nobody knows, inside - I'm still in there, I still have that gun and I'm still ready to put an end to the pain.
Griss said it's over, so if the big guy says it's over, who am I to argue?
But I want to argue, damnit, I want to yell at him and force him to realize it will never be over. No matter that everybody remotely involved in the entire situation is ten feet under, for ME it will never be over.
Did you know, I find myself cringing at the strangest times? I'll be sitting in my truck, waiting for the light to change, when suddenly as the light changes from red to green I'll cringe and for that moment I'll be transported back to that box… That's when I know; I've never truly left it.
I look at my watch, see that another hour has passed, another hour added to my borrowed time, and I can't help but wonder, would I really mind when that time expires?