Run.
Sprint.
You know she is waiting for you, with open arms and a heart-melting smile. She'll want to hold you, hug you; she'll just want to touch you in some way. But you don't mind; not one bit.
You love it when she touches you. It sets a fire within your body. It's a small sizzle at first, right in the spot of contact. That sizzle, that first initial spark, takes off with the speed of light. It's as if each and every one of your nerves is covered in gasoline, an accelerant that turns the spark into a flame. And that flame into a wildfire. It spreads rapidly; from the point of contact, to every inch of your body. Your toes, your nose, your heart; they all feel the lovely burn. And God does that burn feel heavenly.
You've never experienced a feeling like that.
Now you are feeling an unpleasant burn in your legs and your chest. It's slowing you down, that painful burn; but your want for her, your need for her, is giving you the speed of a thousand men. You feel like you have the strength of a God. She is what's keeping you alive.
And you love her for that.
You love her anyway.
You just have to make it out of these God- damn woods. She's out there, just past the tree line. You can hear her yelling. She's screaming your name, she is screaming profanity. She is just screaming. She doesn't know how close you are, but also, how close he is.
Him. Your murderer of the week. Another psycho who wants you dead. Just one more name to add to your list of kidnappers. He's sprinting after you, and he is quite fast. But you are much faster. The two knives hanging in sheaths from his belt weigh him down, and there are probably more dangerous objects hidden from her sight. And you have the force of love pulling you towards her, giving you the strength you need to outrun this bastard.
Oh God, her love. You would climb the entire Swiss Alps to feel her love. You want it, no, you need it, that badly. You can feel a small fraction of it with her just being your best friend. But you want it all. You want her to give you her heart. You want her body; her lips, her skin, her eyes, her everything.
And you will give your love to her for it all. You love her so much that it hurts to be away from her. You have to be close to her, whatever it takes. Even if it is just the exchange of a few texts, that enough to hold you over until you can be physically near her.
Thinking about her, and your love for her, helps you to forget the pain in your legs; the fire in your chest. You've almost run an entire mile from the place he had been holding you. You have been running since your escape. And now you have a few more yards to go. Just keep telling yourself that she is there, waiting for you, and you will make it to safety.
Just. One. More. Yard.
You see her, and you smile.
You scream her name again and again.
Your running stumbles into a slower place, but you are still running. To her. She is standing there, gun in her hand, staring at you with the biggest grin you have ever seen. She holsters her gun, her feet starting to take tentative steps towards you. But now she is sprinting. And so are you.
You are almost to her. Just a few more yards and the love of your life, the only one to hold your heart, will be in your arms.
You have forgotten about him. So has she. So had everyone else.
The gunshot is so unexpected that you wonder if it was a misfire. But the sharp pain in your upper back makes it click in your mind.
He had a gun hidden in his jacket.
You were almost there, almost in her arm. The best place in the entire world.
Your body jerks forward on impact, and it's as if you're in slow motion. You watch as her face slowly falls. You watch terror and fear wipe away all the happiness and ecstatic joy that had been there moments before. You hear her cry out, and you don't like it. It doesn't sound anything like the woman you love.
Guns are loud. Yes, you had realized that before; but now there are at least ten going off at the same time. It is very, very loud and very, very frightening.
By now you have hit the ground, face first. That was painful, but not as painful as the pain radiating from your back. It is just like the fire you feel after her touch. But this is different because that fire leaves you feeling amazing, ecstatic, loved. This burn is hurting you, badly. You want it to stop; you want to be able you get up and press your lips to hers.
Everything isn't slow-paced anymore. She is hitting the ground on her knees, right next you. She has placed her hand over your gunshot wound, although it hasn't really clicked in your mind that you've been shot. She is gently rolling you over and that is when you see her beautiful face. Gorgeous cheekbones, perfect chocolate eyes, curly hair you wanted to tangle your fingers in.
She is muttering now, or she may be yelling. You can't tell; everything isn't as it seems.
She's speaking to you, in that voice that makes your legs go weak every time. "Maura, hey sweetheart. You have got to hold on for me, okay? Please Maur, help will be here soon." You try to smile but it doesn't work out. She notices and suddenly there is a change in her eyes. There is a new sadness that wasn't there before, but there is also something else. It looks like determination, but it also looks like… Love.
And suddenly her lips are on yours and you are on cloud nine. They are soft, just like you imagined, and she tastes so sweet. Like your fudge clusters, but thirty million times better. The kiss is not how you had fantasized it. You had pictured it with more participation on your part; your fingers twisting in her hair, your lips moving in a slow dance against hers. But for some reason your lips won't move; neither will your hands nor your head.
Anger bubbles up inside you. She is kissing you but you can't kiss back. The pain in your back is confusing you, and your mind won't accept the fact that there is a bullet in your chest. Your mind is whispering in your ear, telling you that you fell; that's why you're in pain. Your brain doesn't make the connection that you are dying. You are bleeding out and it is inevitable that you will die. How depressing is that? You just got a kiss from the only person you've ever loved and now you will die.
She pulls back to look at you. Tears are slowly slipping down her tan skin and onto your face.
It's getting hard to see. The edge of your vision is blurring. You frown. Have you been dreaming this entire time? She is saying something but you can't hear her anymore. You are very worried. Your vision is darkening and now everything is so blurred.
You are so scared. You don't want to leave her behind. Am I dying? No! You just got the girl of your dreams, and now you may never touch her again. She taught you how to love, and she loved you. Death will leave you lonely, like you were before you met her. You are frightened to be alone again. But here you are, alone. You can't see her, you can't hear her, and you can no longer feel her.
This darkness is consuming you. It's pressing against you. Death has enveloped you.
You are dead, a corpse, another body in what is soon to be Dr. Pike's morgue. She will no longer love you, for you are no longer there to love her.
No one loved you before her, and now you have made a full circle back into a loveless life. But now you don't have a life.
At least you got your kiss before you died.
And now you are running, sprinting, as fast as you can.
You will forever be running back to the last place you saw her; clutching your body as she sobbed out your name. "Maura."
And now for eternity you shall call out hers.
"Jane."