The blood was everywhere, soaking through Sibella's corset and her dress, staining the pink fabric a crimson color. He knelt in the blood as it trickled down to the pavement where a pool of it was starting to form near her body. His hands were covered with blood as he held her, propping her up against his knees.
The bullet had gone straight through her heart. Monty knew even if he had brought her to the hospital, there would be nothing they could do. She was bleeding out too much, too quickly.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest was heaving as she struggled to breathe. Monty watched her chest rise and fall with each laborious breath, hoping that each one wouldn't be her last. Her eyes were closed, as Monty could imagine that she was in unbearable pain. She would whimper every now and then, and her hands would fumble around until they found his. Her face was contorted in complete agony. All of her muscles were tense, her body fighting the fact that her heart was giving out on her.
He grasped her hands hard, letting her know that he was here for her.
When it was over, he knew he would kill Lionel himself. Drag out his death like Sibella's and make him suffer for what he did. Lionel knew damn well what he had been doing when he had pointed his pistol at Monty and then shot at Sibella instead. He had run off once Sibella had collapsed to the ground, and Monty had wanted to go after him, but he couldn't- wouldn't dare leave Sibella alone. Not now. Not when she was… He couldn't bear to leave her now.
She suddenly cried out, and he nearly jumped. He held her tighter, closer. He pressed her face into his chest, and rubbed her back gently, trying anything to let her know that he was here, here for her.
She murmured something in a breathy whisper, and then whimpered against his chest. He glanced down at her.
"Sibella?" he asked softly, cupping her chin. Her eyes were still closed, her mouth muttering something, her chest was heaving once more, but her breath wasn't coming as easily as it had a few seconds ago.
"Monty… I can't leave… I love you so much… I can't… I'm.. I'm so sorry," she sobbed in complete hysterics and whispers. Her voice was so faint, Monty strained to hear her.
"Darling, this is not your fault," he told her, his own voice cracking.
"No!… no.. my fault.. can't go just yet…I can't die… I can't, Monty," she whimpered harshly. Her body shuddered and he tried to hold her still as she cried out in pain.
"Sibella, Sibella listen to me, you can go… it's okay," he whispered in her ear, "You're in such pain, my love. I don't want you to be in pain."
"I-" she gasped out in agony, nearly doubling over in pain. He reached for her, whispering soothing words in her ear, but she wouldn't stop talking, "I- .. shouldn't have told Lionel… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry," her voice was becoming more panicked now, and even fainter if possible. She started hyperventilating, her hands were shaking. Her body trembled harshly against him. She was still whispering, trying to tell him how sorry she was, how she knew he needed her, needed her to stay, to live.
"I can't leave you… I promised I'd marry you… I-I promised, Monty. I can't," she cried as she tossed and turned in his arms, struggling to maintain her composure.
"Don't you dare hold on for me, Sibella Hallward! You can't, my love." He sobbed into her cheek, "you can't. You're dying. Sibella, there's so much blood… it's everywhere. Please, stop fighting… please, darling…."
Monty held her throughout it all. Tightly, never wanting to let go of her. His own hands shook out of premature grief. Although she was not dead yet, part of her was, and that's what killed Monty the most. Tears fell from his eyes, because he knew he could not save her. And yet she was so damn stubborn. Even while dying, she wouldn't listen to him.
He held her closer, not caring that he smudged her face with her own blood, nor his pants. Nothing mattered except her. He held her for what seemed like hours. Countless minutes of her whimpering deliriously, of her body shaking out of pain, of seeing more and more blood spill out of her.
Is this the fate that he had given to the rest of the D'ysquith's? Had he done this to them? Granted though, they had deserved it.
Sibella was innocent, nothing if not guilty because of her love for him, but that was by no means her fault.
He thought about having it be done and over with. For a brief second. It was when her figure had started to convulse, due to the fact that she was bleeding out. He couldn't stand to hear her whimpered breathing, her muffled shrieks of anguish as she tried to hang on to life.
He held her hands, begging her to stop, begging her to go. It was a fate worse than death watching the one you loved suffer so.
He had considered snapping her neck then. Just for a moment. He had his hands poised around her throat, but then he couldn't do it. Not to her… not to his Sibella. He couldn't bear the guilt if he had killed her, even if it was a mercy killing.
Her whimpers grew quiet eventually. Her body remained somewhat still. He cradled her torso in his arms, with one elbow supporting her head. He felt for a heartbeat. It was faint, but still there. He knew it wouldn't last for much longer.
"Damn you, woman," he whispered as tears fell from his eyes.
He knew what he had to do. Sibella would keep this up if she kept having him to fight for. Monty knew that she would fight until there was nothing left of her because of her love for him.
He bit his lip so hard he drew blood. He took a deep breath and steadied himself.
"I'm glad you're dying," he got out in a hoarse whisper, each word as torturous to get out as the next, but it needed to done. Otherwise, Sibella would fight forever for him, "I'm glad because now it'll just be me and Phoebe. That's all I ever wanted. You were… you were just… you meant nothing to me, Sibella. You…" he licked his lips, "You were just my… whore… my mistress. I just fucked you because I could. Phoebe is the one I ever truly loved, not you." The words felt like knives at his throat. They stabbed at his heart.
He held her, his hands trembling. His fingers kept twitching, his own breathing was pained. Sibella, on the other hand, was quiet and still, except for her little gasps of pain every once in a while.
"I don't need you anymore, so you can just leave…. You can go… and I'll be just fine… without you."
To Monty's surprise, her eyes opened at that moment. Those crystal blue eyes sparkled for him as a wane grin spread across her face, and a little giggle escaped between her lips. Monty cherished the sound, nearly crying at the thought of never hearing such a beautiful sound again. Monty couldn't help but let out a similar noise, just because seeing him laugh made her smile. God, he never wanted to not see her smile.
"You're such a bad liar, Monty," she whispered faintly as one of her hands cupped his cheek. Her fingers caressed his skin lightly, barely moving but he could still feel it. A sob took him then, and he started to cry.
He kissed her hard then, taking the hand that was on his cheek, and bringing it towards his chest. He held it tightly even after he felt the breath leave her lips. Her body went lax against his. Her flesh grew cold. The only heat that lingered was on her lips from their kiss.
She was blurry the next time he looked at her. He knew she was dead. He could tell. He had seen enough dead people to know. His vision kept becoming blurred with the tears that kept streaming down his face. His voice turned into that of a whimpering animal's, something unrecognizable to him, and he didn't even realize he was screaming and sobbing. He pressed his fingers into her skin, not ever wanting to let go of her. He couldn't. He wouldn't. How could he ever leave her? How could he ever abandon her, even when she was dead?
Her eyes were still open and the faint evidence of that playful smirk still lingered on her lips. Monty shut them carefully, gently, not wanting to hurt her any more than he already had.
He kissed her lips one last time.