A/N: So, just to be clear, I'm mad about A-ha. really big fan. I just came back from their concert here in Sao Paulo and felt inspired. The live version of this song was beautiful, and this story popped into my head. It's a short one. Hope you like it.
Donald Ressler lies on the bed, on his stomach, looking to the left, following the lines that the light of the moon forms on top of the desk he's got by the window. He lets his eyes go down to find the clothes on the floor, lying there the same way they were when they left their bodies, carelessly thrown and crumpled.
He rolls to his back and his foot finds the woman by his side. He still can't believe what happened. It was all over, she was back, no more running, and she was there. He turns to his side to find her peacefully asleep, her blonde hair covering her face. He extends his reach, and brushes the locks away to see her face, her beautiful face resting with a faint smile. He slides his fingers down her neck, making her move slightly in reaction to the touch, but not wake up. He goes down her back, and rests his palm on her hips, as he approaches to kiss her forehead.
As he does that, she begins to disappear, slipping through his fingers and fading like a ghost.
He wakes up with a scream, and realizes it was his own. He is panting, scared, and turns over to remember that he is alone in his bed. The silver light of the moon invades the room through the window and illuminates the discarded packs of Chinese food he forgot on the desk. He sits up and covers his face with his hand, trying to understand the dream he's had.
He wasn't feeling ok. It's been 5 months since that first day when they accused her of being a terrorist, and he let her go seconds before the cameras came back online. 5 months since he became responsible for her capture, and started his hunt.
For 5 months he's been crazy to find her, but at the same time wishing she'd slip away in the last minute, as it had been. But now these dreams. He had to find her, if only to tell her what all this has been doing to him, the feelings it's been awaking.
For a moment, he wished he could call her. She had called him yesterday, and told him she had to go away. He felt like tearing apart, knowing that she would leave the country, go God knows where, as the only way to escape and find a way to clear her name, exonerate her guilt, and find the real criminals. He felt at a crossroads, being the one who wanted to help her the most and the one who had to stop her from running away. He only wished her good luck, and reassured her that no matter the roles they were playing, he believed in her.
He had told her to go. He let her go, again. And he felt okay with it. The only guilt and regret he felt was to know that she was now further than ever, and that he couldn't do much to bring her back. To top all that, he had to keep all the feelings that all this hunt brought up bottled up in his heart. It was too much for his head to handle. He felt as if his heart had been torn into pieces.
He rests his head on his pillow, observing the dance that the light of the moon is doing on the ceiling. He is scared to sleep, to dream again. He turns the radio on, and allows the music to enter his mind, trying to silence the ghosts. It's 4 in the morning, and an oldies program is on.
"I'll be hunting high and low
High….
There's no end to the lengths I'll go to
High and low
High….
Do you know what it means to love you?"