DRUNKSHIP OF LANTERNS

I've got to get you home.

It's kind of all cementing together – in that sick, morbid way that it always has. Things aren't going to be okay, things will never be okay again, everything is ruined, it's all real. The events can't ever be turned back, I can't ever bring you here again. Six bullets, an escape, a stormy night, and you're done for good.

I've checked your pulse a thousand times now, and each time it's gotten fainter; and each time I force myself back to your wrists, back to your neck. Weaker, slower, more futile.

I've got to get you home.

I'm holding you in my arms, looking down at your face one more time. "Are you... are you okay?" It's the worst question I could ask, and it's one I've already got the morbid answer. You won't speak, you won't say a word, and your eyes won't open.

Fuck it, fuck it to hell. This is what I graduated for? This is why I left the Academy? This is why I went with you? Just for this? You were the stronger one, not me... not me...

I've got to get you home.

I swear, I'll catch him, I'll kill them. They stabbed us in the back. A noble, courageous soldier, of honorable blood, spins around, reveals their trap, and shoots you dead. I knew it, I knew who it had to be. And I didn't stop it while I still could. So I set you down gently, falling to my knees, weeping. This isn't what it was supposed to be like.

We were supposed to be heroes. We were supposed to be legends. There would be books, there would be movies, there would be crowds cheering. Dead in an alley isn't your dream. Dead in an alley isn't my dream. I want you back. I don't have a single chance in Hell of your face again.

I want you to open your eyes. I want to look one more time, I want to catch that subtle reflection, that glint that told me it was all going to be okay. You brought me here, you helped me, you put me through all this... and I couldn't save you.

I start to feel the snowflakes. It's cold in this part of the country. It's cold everywhere; but that's not what I mean. I'm sure you'd get it if you were here. I want you back already. I can flash forward to the funeral in my mind and I'm on my knees, screaming and weeping, seeing the same event over and over.

But I'm starting to remember now, and I pick you up again, carrying you carefully out to the car. You stir for once, and my heart leaps, only to sink as I look down to your blood-stained uniform.

"Listen..." You whisper, barely any more than a fly's rasp. "When nobody's watching your back... you've got to move it. You have to be the strong one now, okay?" The short jubilations of my last minute with you stream down my face, as you close your eyes once more, as if they were fragile glass that would shatter upon closing. And I figure this is what's supposed to happen, at least, right now. I unlock the car carefully, laying you in the back seat, walking around to the driver's side, sitting down and letting out a heavy sigh, hesitating for a moment.

It's almost like I can't leave yet. But I manage to drag myself to putting that key in the ignition and taking the wheel. After all, I've got to get you home, Raz.