Story: There's Still Time.

Published: 5/00/08

Summary: I wish I could be with him, I truly do, But time's running out, and this time, the clock won't restart when it hits the end.

Rating: T

Beta: 'Chelle

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I thought this one was... interesting to write, in all actuality, I am really not sure exactly what to think of it. There are aspects of it that I like, but also, I have some issues with it, mostly due to the nature of the story. Tell me what you think, I'd really like to know.

As always, have fun reading.

-NnH

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There's Still Time

1 Hour Remains.

I feel sorry for them, I really do. I can see the tears held back behind their eyes, held back as they say goodbye to their families and friends for the last time. They don't cry, because they want to reassure their loved ones that they will survive, that everything will be ok. That's part of it. They also want to reassure themselves that they will survive, that everything will be ok, but deep down they know just as well as I do that they won't be coming back.

Everyone knows what will happen, and everyone has accepted it. I promise myself I won't cry, I did enough of that last night, we all did. I am the only fighter not able to go on this mission, and it hurts, knowing that this will be most of my friends last day alive. We had a night off, a night to be with our families, just as we do every night before an attack. He and I didn't go home. Neither of us have any family left, so we stayed at the bunker together. This is the first time we haven't fought together in over 3 years, and it feels weird to be staying behind with the civilians.

10 Minutes Remain.

They come downstairs, and he comes to stand in front of me. He's here to say goodbye. I know it. He kisses me, tells me that he loves me, and I respond in kind. He knows the consequences of today's battle. They all do. I know, but only because I've done the same. I've gone into a fight expecting not to come back. Expecting never to see anyone who goes in again, Its part of our job. The Citizens have no idea. They really don't. They accept the promises of "I'll come back", living in the thoughts that their boyfriend, or girlfriend, parent or child ,brothers, and sisters, are completely immortal. The war isn't real to them the way it is to us, and so they hope.

He offered to stay behind with me. He told me that he would stay with me, and I think he wants to. I can't accept. I could never do that. He is needed, and having me injured is hurting the team enough. We're so vastly outnumbered, there's no way we could win without everyone there.

Despite everything against us, he would stay at my side

There is still time.

If I asked him to stay, he would. All I have to do is tell him not to go. I just have to tell him that I need him, and he will stay here with me no matter what. In a way, I don't think he wants me to let him go. He wants me to scream, to cry, to tell him that he can't leave.

I stay silent.

Each of us are hoping that the other will brake. I hope that he will refuse to leave, and he hopes I will refuse to let him leave.

He stays silent

If he walks out the door today, there's an extremely good chance, I will loose him forever. This mission is suicide and we all know it. We're vastly outnumbered: nearly 10 to 1. The enemy is well prepared. We're hungry, tired, and running out of supplies quickly. This will most likely be the last battle we'll live to see. We know we're going to lose, but at least we're going out fighting. At least they're going out fighting.

1 Minute Remains

I hear the bell toll. Once, twice, three times the bells toll, signaling our team's departure. He kisses me, and gets in line, leaving one spot to his right. The spot I would be in if I had any choice. Our eyes meet as he stands, waiting to leave. His eyes are begging for me to hold him back, to make him stay. My heart wills me to stop him. I to give in, and my mind agrees.

I do nothing.

10 Seconds Remain.

I watch as he approaches the door. 5 rows before him. We leave in twos, to keep from being noticed. I try to force the words out, but they don't come.

I stand and still I do and say nothing.

5 Seconds Remain.

I brush my hair out of my face, surprised to find it wet with tears.

It hurts so much to see him go. All of this would all be unnecessary if I could just run to him. If I could say the one phrase that would keep him here.

I stand silent and alone.

1 Second Remains.

He turns to me, it's his turn now. Just before he steps through, he mouths one last thing.

'I love you'

something inside me brakes, and I run for the door, There's still time, there's still time. It becomes a mantra, drilling into my mind, but there isn't anytime really, because he doesn't see me start for him.

Time Is Up

He steps out the door, and it quickly shuts behind him, obscuring him from view.

He's gone.

I've failed.

I collapse on the ground, sobbing. One of the older women standing by the door takes me to my room. She closes the door, letting me cry in peace. If I had just been a second sooner, if I had run a bit faster…

But I didn't and he's gone.

The floor is wet with my tears.

Two hours pass, and I'm still crying. The door bangs open, the same woman who carried me here rushing into the room.

"Get up, he's asking for you." I freeze. It can't be true. There's no way he could be back, alive. I try to keep myself from getting my hopes up, but I can't help it.

That swelling hope begins to die, however, as we turn corner after corner.

Right.

Left.

Left.

Each turn we take carves a bit out of my happiness. The only thing down this way is the Infirmary.We pass it. What's left of my hope is replaced by a sick dread. ICU.

My vision is obscured by blood. It's everywhere, the sheets, the walls. He's lying on the bed, pale, covered. The nurses are crowded around him, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. One woman pushes me over to the bed, and I grab his hand.

His stomach is split open, organs clearly visible through the gore, his arm looks as if it has been through a meat shredder, eyes glazed over with pain. I squeeze his hand, washing his forehead with a cool cloth.

After what felt like hours, but was really only minutes, he was asleep. His bleeding slowed, barely. The nurse takes me aside.

"His wounds are fatal." She spoke frankly and kindly, and I knew it was coming, but it was still nauseatingly painful to hear out loud.

"I'm sorry, there's nothing we could do." Oh gods, it's finally happened. "We will try to make it as painless for him as possible." Of course she could be calm saying this; it wasn't her husband lying prone on the bed, slowly bleeding to death. "You can stay with him if you'd like." I turn, sitting beside his bed. Hopefully he will die in his sleep, painlessly like she said.

He died screaming two days later.

No one else returned from the raid.

They invaded our base, and within the next two weeks everyone was gone.

There was never hope of a happy ending.

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End

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