This is a one-shot from my AU series that consists of "A Small Price to Pay for Her" and "The Beginnings of Us" so far. I'm sorry to say that this probably won't make sense to the blind reader, but you are welcome to stay and read anyway!

*This scene takes place in between Chapters 14 and 15 of "A Small Price to Pay for Her"*

He had a feeling that he was going to regret this.

With a heavy heart, Chris sealed the letter that he had spent countless days writing and re-writing and stood to his feet. He could only hope that it would make it to her; even if it didn't, it felt somewhat good to get his feelings out on paper and that was some consolation for his efforts. The bin in the corner of the dorm room that he shared with his best friend, Michael overflowed with balled up paper, the white a stark contrast against the dark wood floor. Chris sighed and left the room to make his way toward the main office where postage was sent.

Don't do this.

Step.

You're going to lose her. What will you do then?

Step. Step.

She'll never forgive you.

Maybe that was for the best. If Linda thought that he was breaking off their relationship for good and telling her to move on, her hatred toward him would drive her away and into the arms of another man...maybe another genius like herself…and she would be happy…in the arms of another man...

Chris stopped in his tracks and punched the wall next to him, his knuckles stinging with ache as he tried his absolute damnedest to keep his composure. But with each passing microsecond, he felt his rage growing. To even think about another man stealing Linda's heart made him want to tear the whole dorm house apart with his bare hands. And to think about another man touching her…

Chris punched the wall again, and felt a bone pop in his hand. Dislocated. A distant part of him told him he needed to stop, but the pain in his hand dulled in comparison to the pain in his chest. Again and again, with no regard to the screaming burn of his knuckles, he punched the wall, imagining that it was the face of the next man that Linda would give her heart to. He had never hated who he was so much as in that moment; he would've given anything to forgo the name of Chris Holmes. He had to be born a poor idiot. He had to fall in love with Linda Gregory, the university's mathematical prodigy. He just had to let himself hope that he was good enough for her.

Idiot. Blind idiot.

"Chris!" Michael's voice broke through the storm in his mind and Chris felt himself being dragged back from the wall. "Chris, for God's sake, stop!" Through the haze of pain that started to cloud his judgment, Chris saw imprints of blood on the wall from where his fist connected over and over in a pathetic attempt to beat his rage to death. He slightly relaxed in Michael's hold, suddenly feeling exhausted as he panted from his efforts. "Come on, let's go for a walk," Michael said softly as he gave the other bewildered men around them a dark stare and followed Chris outside.

"What the hell was that about?" Michael finally asked after a few seconds, trying his best to keep up with his friend's long, powerful strides across the courtyard.

"Nothing, it was…nothing," Chris finished with a mutter as he viciously pulled the door to the main office open.

" 'It was nothing'?" Michael sounded utterly flummoxed. "Chris, you were about to put a hole in the wall of our dorm house." He could tell the secretary behind the desk wasn't really sure how to respond to the wild and crazy young man that stood in front of her and roughly shoved a letter in her face, but with a polite smile, she took the letter and nodded to acknowledge her thanks. Michael almost fell over from the amount of force that blew his way as his best friend passed him to leave the office.

"For the love of-" he gave an apologetic smile to the wide-eyed secretary and quickly followed Chris again. At least he hadn't stalked too far away; he was already sitting on a bench and examining his battered hand by the time Michael strode up.

"I won't be able to write for a least a week," Chris said with a hint of wonder in his voice.

"You should have the nurse check that out," Michael replied as he sat down.

"I've had worse." Chris waved his good hand nonchalantly. They fell into an awkward silence, the hum of chatter enveloping them as their other classmates went to and fro around them.

"Why were you sending a letter?" Michael asked slowly.

"It's for Linda."

"Really?" Michael looked surprised. "I didn't know you had her address."

"I didn't until a few days ago. Mrs. Creed, one of the secretaries, remembered what happened the day Linda left." The echos of the argument between Linda and her father, Ulysses from all those months ago made him flinch. "She was very sympathetic to my case when I explained to her what I needed it for. She went to some great lengths to get it."

"Well, that's…good, then." Michael cleared his throat softly. "So if you don't mind me asking, what does the letter say?"

"It's a goodbye."

"Wait…a goodbye?"

Chris nodded once.

"What…does that mean, exactly?" Michael waited with baited breath as his friend sighed for an extremely long time.

"It means I told Linda that she needs to move on." The whole world seemed to stop.

"Wait, you're breaking it off? Through a letter?"

"I don't really have any other option-"

"You-just-how-no, no, NO." Michael stood to his feet. "I'm going to get that blasted letter-"

"Don't, Mike."

"You're not sending it-"

"Yes, I am."

"NO, you're not, Chris," Michael said fiercely as he spun back around. "I'm going and getting it back and I'm going to tear that damn thing to shreds. Do you know why?" He pointed his finger dangerously close to Chris's face. "Because you're about to break the heart of the one person you love the most in this world. You're going to cause her and yourself so much pain-"

"You don't think I don't know that?" Chris's whisper was so soft that it made Michael stop mid-rant. "I only want Linda to be happy, Michael-"

"But you KNOW she won't be!" The air rang out with the sound of started birds taking flight at Michael's shout. "If you think for one second that a bloody sappy goodbye is going to make things better for her, it isn't! Linda loves you, Chris. And only you. What are you going to do if you see her years later and she's happily married to someone else?!"

Chris slowly looked up to his friend's wild eyes and flaring nostrils. With all of the calm that he could muster, he opened his mouth.

"I'm only going to say this once: stick to your own relationship. What happens between Linda and I isn't any of your concern. You have Melody; focus on that."

Michael huffed in annoyance as Chris got up and stormed away.

"Chris, I'm your best friend!" Michael shouted to his retreating back. "Is it bad of me to want to see you happy with the love of your life?" With a sigh of defeat, Michael sat back down on the bench and looked up to the sky.

"If You're up there, now would be the time to jump in here," he said with a point in the direction Chris went. "Why You paired us as friends in the first place, I'll never know, but I can't get to him right now. Make something happen...please." Michael got up and silently walked back to the boys' dorm house, purposely making sure to avoid the temptation of retrieving the letter and instead trying to come up with a decent excuse to present to the head of the dorm as to why Chris Holmes's blood was on the wall...

Linda slammed the bedroom shut behind her, close to bursting into tears from the frustration of the evening. Once again, her father had arranged a meeting, this time with a man by the name of Paul. Paul was the youngest CEO to ever grace the company that he worked for and had more money than he knew what to do with. He was also on the hunt for a wife, and Linda apparently fit the bill of what he was looking for.

To hell with that.

She flopped down on the seat in front of her vanity and picked up the brush to viciously run it through her long, golden curls. How much more could she take of the madness, the constant game of being courted by men she couldn't stand to even be in the same room with? She was almost bored to death at dinner from all the talk of business and trade and whatever other rubbish that she didn't care to remember. And her father couldn't argue that she didn't try to engage with her 'date'; she tried to talk to him about poetry and books, but Paul looked about as lost as a goose in a snowstorm at what she probably supposed was mindless chatter to him. Chris would've been proud of her-

Chris…

After days of not thinking about him, the memory of him flooded through the inner crevices of her mind, almost crippling her. In a rush, she was wrapped up in his memory, and it was almost as though he was with her. She could feel his lips against hers and the innocent, yet bold caress of his hands across her skin. Her nostrils were filled with his intoxicating scent and her ears harkened to the rumble of his deep, vibrant voice.

With a sniffle, she put her brush down and sighed at the pang of longing in her chest. I miss him so much...

"Ms. Linda," Esther's voice softly called from the other side of the door. "May I come in?"

Getting up from the vanity seat, Linda went and opened the door to look down at the homely maid. Esther quickly bustled past her, muttering a very quick 'close the door' that Linda almost missed. Slowly, she shut the bedroom door and the stoutly maid pulled an envelope from her apron pocket.

"The post came today," she whispered, obviously frightened that someone (most likely Ulysses) would somehow overhear what was going on. "And I managed to take this before your father noticed it."

Linda took the envelope and looked at the sender's address. She quickly held it to her chest, almost fainting with excitement; it was from Chris. How in the world did Esther know about him? Linda barely breathed his name when in the house.

"I thought you would be excited to see it. I'll leave you to it," Esther said with a slight smile as she quickly took her leave. With more enthusiasm than what was probably needed, Linda ripped the envelope open and pulled out the letter, a smile spreading across her face as she recognized Chris's scribble handwriting. A sight for sore eyes.

Dearest Linda,

I have to be honest, writing this letter isn't an easy task; there are so many things that I wish to say to you, and I fear I will run out of paper. So much of it is in the bin by my desk already that I'm sure I have killed an entire forest.

She chuckled tearfully.

Things haven't been the same since you left; somehow, life seems so incredibly dull without you here to give me a new perspective. Also, my maths scores are going down the toilet with each passing day without your guidance.

Even in a letter, Chris's light-hearted personality was still the same. She sat back against the pillows on the bed.

I'm sorry to ramble on so much; I just miss talking to you. But I needed to write you. Even if this doesn't reach your hands, I need to get my feelings out on paper. Linda, if you ever receive this letter, it's imperative that you know that you will always be my first love. You can be confident in the fact that no other woman will ever be able to take your place in my eyes, because you are the picture of everything that I envision a woman to be. You have spoiled me, Linda. These last few months with you have been a precious gift, and I will always treasure our time together.

She felt herself slightly stiffen; wait, what did he mean by that…?

I wish I could tell you this in person versus in a letter, but I have no other option. And maybe, it's better to have the barrier of paper between us; this way, it won't hurt to physically let you go.

The letter began to tremble in her hands.

But I have to let you go, Linda. And you have to let me go, too. What we had was amazing, but I'm starting to realize that it wasn't made to last. You need someone that will challenge you to grow and reach your full potential in this life; a man who can give you the life that you so deserve and love you with all his heart at the same time. In fact, you deserve all of that and so much more. What am I except a moron without a penny to his name?

She sat up and gripped the paper for dear life, tears running down her cheeks. This was all a dream; just a horrible dream. She would wake up tomorrow and be back in the dorms with her best friend, Fran, and Chris will be there waiting for her as he always did. He wasn't writing her a goodbye letter; he bloody wasn't doing it.

This is my goodbye to you, Linda.

God, no. She burst into tears, barely able to contain her sobs as she tried to see through the blur burning in her eyes. She wanted to tear the letter to shreds, scream and rage from the amount of pain and grief that weighed her down. With everything in her, she plowed through the rest of the letter:

A piece of my heart will always belong to you, and no matter who I meet or where I go, I'll carry your memory with me. You, Linda Gregory, are the first woman I have ever loved, and if I have a say in how things go throughout my life, you will be the last. Please, promise me that you'll do everything you can to be happy, because that's all I have ever wanted for you…even if it was never going to be with me. And I promise you the same, even though I'm not sure I will ever be as happy as when I was in your arms…

I will always love you. Always. Please don't ever forget that.

Chris

Happy? He wanted her to be happy? He had destroyed whatever happiness she had with a single bloody letter. Where did he get off asking her to be happy? Bastard. That bastard. He probably already had another girlfriend waiting in the wings as he wrote the letter…maybe he realized that breaking up with Anne was a mistake and they were getting back together-

Linda dropped the letter with a whine and hunched into the fetal position on her bed, hugging her knees with an iron grip as she fought to keep her breathing under control. Hot, cold, rage, grief- her emotions seesawed back and forth, up and down, like a merry-go-round spinning out of control. Behind her closed eyes, she could see Chris and Anne kissing…see them becoming closely acquainted with each other's bodies, a sickening smirk of victory on Anne's face.

The images made Linda spring up from the bed, rip the bedroom door open and run down the hall and into the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet to empty the contents of her stomach, and while weakly hanging onto the sides of the bowl, she sobbed gut wrenching sobs. The reality of what happened crashed down onto her head.

She had lost Chris for good.

Leaning back to sit against the wall, she wiped at her damp cheeks and tried to breathe through the pain of her cramping stomach. The sounds of laughter from the people downstairs drifted to her ears; amazing how the rest of the world continued to spin while hers was slowly collapsing within itself. With a sigh, she slowly stood to her feet and walked out of the bathroom and back into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

What now, she thought to herself sadly as she walked to the window to open it up and bath her sweat-drenched face in cool, summer breeze. Taking a deep breath of the damp air outside, she tried to reason her mind to a calm state, but one suggestion out of the group of voices stood out. It was extreme, and certainly something that she wouldn't consider on her own, but the voice was very reasonable. It'll be quick, you won't feel a thing, it's almost as peaceful as falling asleep…

After a few minutes of deep thought, she backed away from the window and laid down on the bed to wait for everyone to go to sleep. But the reasoning behind her choice comforted her in the strangest of ways. It was a very simple principle that she held to:

If Chris couldn't have her, no one would.