Another angsty fic! Sorry if its getting old, I'm gonna write some fluff n romance here soon! Hugz and kisses to all!
It's obvious I don't own PB, why else would I write this stuff? Oh yeah...cuz I'm chronically obsessed ;)
They watched the lights brighten in the building below, illuminating the air around them and giving a better view of the men running for their lives below.
Two, as far as they could see…one with darkened eyes and a pained look, the other alert and focused, his skin blackened in ink.
The tattooed man in particular caught their attention as he yelled for he and his partner to split apart, heading in separate directions. They watched as he fled into the woods, flashes of light behind him, the howls of dogs at his heels.
They could feel themselves grow dark and somber, knowing the very probable fate of this man, dreading the inevitable…an end that they could neither stop or ignore.
He ran faster, and they could see his desperation, etched onto his face as he looked back at the men who chased him, ordering him to stop or be shot.
He did not stop. They knew he wouldn't.
They could tell, by looking into the blue blaze of his eyes, that his fear was being suppressed by determination.
Why, they wondered…
What would make this man run so fast, so hard, and put his own life in peril? What was there in this man's life that was worth such a risk?
His breath was growing hard now, shallow and quick.
He was tiring.
And yet he continued to run.
He evaded the trees in his path, dodging branches, shoving leaves aside, jumping over the exposed roots.
The men who pursued him yelled again to cease his escape and drop to his knees. Again he ignored them.
He was heaving for air now, his lungs obviously straining, but his body continued on.
He pressed forward with his feet, digging them into the ground.
He was so desperate, they saw…
So intent…
Even the threat of death would not stop him.
And the threat was so very close now.
His movements were slowing.
The ones who ran behind would catch him soon.
Nevertheless, he kept on.
They grew ever sadder, ever more frightened for him. The darkness was closing in.
And then they could hear it..
Soft whispers coming from below.
From him…
"Keep going…"
The man was speaking to himself.
"Don't stop…"
Whispers and mumbles…he was pressing himself onward…
"Go…."
The men yelled louder, and told him it was his last chance.
He said it then, and they suddenly understood why he was so determined to escape.
"Sara…Linc…I will, have to…don't stop…don't!"
He was running to get to someone.
This woman he spoke of…his lover perhaps?
And the other-- a friend, his father, or brother?
No matter who they were, it was apparent that they were worth dying to get to….
And the fact made it so much harder for them to watch his demise…
Another shout from behind…
And then a shot.
The man fell, and they could not look away.
They heard him gasp, heard the crunch of the leaves as he hit the ground.
His breath was slowing now, soft and nearly inaudible amongst the barking dogs that now surrounded him.
Dark liquid seeped from beneath him.
The man was dying.
Farther away, in a nearby field, the other escapee stopped briefly at the sound of the shot.
They saw his eyes widen, his head shake…and then he turned and continued to run.
He knew, just as they did, that the fallen man could not be saved.
But unlike them, he did not weep.
The ground beneath the cold and still form in the forest became damp from their tears….
The man had only wanted to be with the ones he loved…
Even the clouds themselves could feel sorrow for him.