Where Do We Go Now But Nowhere?
Acepilot

Author's Notes - This story was originally a part of "Deciduous", but I...well, I loved it so much that I had to post it separately. It'll still be in the larger fic, but it's better than most of the rest of the Road series. I had to make it another story. The song is amazingly powerful when you hear it.

Disclaimer - The characters from "AGU" are property of KlaskyCsupo.
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I've got the pedal to the metal, as if getting there fast will do any good. It all doesn't matter now. None of it matters, I guess. There was nothing to be done. It just happens, they tell me.

But I can't believe it. Not now. There must have been something that could be done. Something I can do yet.

But I should know better.

The city is a blur around me as I go from one end of it to the other with all the pace I can. My old, battered car is groaning under the abuse, but I don't care. All I can think about is what is at my destination. And thinking about it makes me wonder if I really want to go.

But I can't not.

Ever since I answered my mobile phone, everything's been a blur. My student's laughing at me for my phone going off when I've repeatedly told them all they're not to bring them to school themselves. I remember laughing with them before answering the phone. And since then I've gotten halfway across the city, and I don't know how I did it. Because I'm fixed on one thing and one thing alone.

The buildings cast shadows over me as the glorious sunset tries to penetrate through skyscrapers of the city to the north, struggling to do so. The clouds to the south look fortuitous. And here I am in the middle, going at unsafe speeds as if I could change anything by hurrying.

I slam into the first parking space I can find, barely remembering to lock the car as I sprint for the horrible doors ahead of me. The building looks down on me as if in disapproval of my actions. The tears are just now starting to prick at my eyes even as the storm finally begins to let loose. I rush through the sliding pieces of glass just as they open to let someone out. I mutter an apology for almost knocking them over, but it's the last thing on my mind at the moment.

"Kimmi Finster," I gasp to the woman behind the desk, leaning heavily against it to catch my breath, realizing that I've barely stopped to take a gulp of oxygen for almost thirty minutes now. I've been on the adrenaline rush of my life, for all the wrong reasons.

The receptionist spares me a sorry glance. "She's in room 19."

I don't even bother to ask for directions. I just run through the corridors, coat flapping behind me. It falls off in the wind of my sprint and I don't even bother to stop to pick it up. I'm feel like I'm racing death. But I've already lost.

The tears run hot down my face as I run through this seemingly endless maze of corridors, counting doors under my choked breath. I want to fall down and die on the spot. My body is racked with pain, from a stitch in my side to the gaping hole in my heart.

I finally reach the door labeled 19 and fling it open, trying not to slam it hard, but the adrenaline is pumping so hard through my body that I struggle not to.

She's lying there in the bed. Her eyes are devoid of tears. But the tracks down her cheeks let me know that she's just trying to put on a brave face. My fiance, laying before me, sitting up against her pillows. Her hair is down. She never wears it down. A few more tears slip out. I can't seem to find the words I want to say. What can I say?

She's staring at me, and my eyes slowly overflow to the point of not being able to contain the tears any longer. I'm clutching at the door as my face grows drenched with saltwater that I shouldn't be shedding. That should never have been induced. This is wrong. It's all wrong. This doesn't happen. Not to us. Not to us.

I cling to everything I can find in the room as I claw my way across it, not trusting my feet to hold me up. She's watching me, and her breathing is becoming short and shallow. God, I hope she doesn't feel guilty. I couldn't bare it if she did. It's not her fault. Nothing about it is her fault. Nothing. It's no-one's fault. I don't know if that is better or worse than having someone to blame it on.

I fall into the seat next to the bed, the wind finally collapsing out of me. My body goes practically limp as I raise my head, slowly, to stare into her eyes. Her beautiful eyes, bloodshot with tears recently shed, her face laced with dark scars of regret.

She doesn't smile. She doesn't frown. She just says, "Probably for the best that we held off on telling everyone, I guess."
And then her tears fall.

There's nothing I can say. There's nothing to say. I climb gently onto the bed and take her in my arms, wrapping her in my embrace. I feel her tears dampening my shirt, and I kiss the top of her head softly through the veil of her hair. My tears fall on her as hers fall on me. I rock her gently, struggling for something to say, something to do to help. But there's nothing.

So I just sit here. Rocking her quietly, our sobs intermingling and drowned out by the storm outside. Rocking her gently, crying. Holding her close, and never letting her go.

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