A/N: This got stuck in my head and I couldn't work on anything else till I wrote it. It's slightly confusing, all the thoughts came spilling out at once. The events Brie speaks of happen before National Treasure, but the actual visit here, happens sometime after it.

Disclaimer: I don't own National Treasure, or any of it's characters.

Dedicated to sugarmoney21, who loves tragedy. (Even though this isn't that tragic...)

Last Goodbye
The prison ahead was tall, concrete and the last place I wanted to visit. I turned off my car's engine and sat for a moment, watching it. I knew about prisons, but the kind I was familiar with, were the mental and spiritual type, usually erected by conflicting emotions, not the actual type with bars and guards. Why was I here? This was insane. All I was going to do was inflict more pain on myself. All debts should be repaid. I told myself grimly and stepped out of the car. The wind tore through my brown hair, plastering my bangs to my forehead. Good thing I didn't wear a skirt today… I waited at the front desk, for the secretary to look up.

"What can I do for you ma'am?" She asked cheerfully. "Are you here for a visit?"

"Yes. These are visiting hours, right?"

"Uh-huh, but how much time you have depends on who you're here to see. Who might that be?"

I took a deep breath. Once I said the words I was committed. "Ian Howe."

"Right, I'll ring the guard. You have an hour. I'm sorry if that's not enough time." She obviously assumed I was a girlfriend here to visit my unfortunate lover who was in jail. Which was the furthest thing from the truth, not counting the past.

"That will be more than sufficient. Thank you."

I nervously brushed my hair back, then stopped myself, as I waited in the room, empty but for a table and chairs. I didn't care how he thought I looked. The door opened. Ian walked in, hands free and looking just as he had last time I had seen him. He stopped by the table, and regarded me silently.

"Ian." I could barely get the words out. Why did I come here?

"You're the last person I expected to see here. What's the occasion?" His voice hadn't changed either. Still British accented and smooth with none of the traces of coldness I had heard the time before.

"Not really any occasion. I-I…" Cold sweat popped out on my forehead.

"Why don't you sit down?" Ian suggested, lowering himself into one of the chairs, himself. I sat, across the table, relieved to get off my heels. There was a silence as I tried to collect my thoughts.

"Would you like to tell me what this is about?" Ian asked.

"I came to apologize. And say thank you." I managed to get out. Ian was silent, running a hand through his still-longish, blonde hair.

"Why?" He asked finally. "You have nothing to apologize for. And certainly nothing to thank me for."

"I misjudged you. And didn't do anything once I realized that."

Ian snorted. "You misjudge me? I was the one who misjudged you." His green eyes had touches of bitterness in them, as if shoved away, but not forgotten.

"No. I assumed that you were the person you appeared to be. And I took you at your word, which I never should have done. I asked you why, why you left me, and never came back. Not even when Danielle died. You said, 'That's who I am, and I haven't changed yet.' And I believed you. I'm sorry. If I hadn't believed you, you might not be here today."

"You can't change the past. And how do you think you can know me better than I know myself?"

"You can't look into your own eyes and tell yourself what you see." I whispered. "And you have changed."

"I have?" Pause. "If I have, don't you think it was a little too late?"

"Ian, it's never too late. I talked to Gates. He confirmed my suspicions. You're not a really bad person. If you had really wanted them dead, they would be dead."

Ian laughed harshly. "I'm still here for attempted murder."

I crossed my arms, tugging my black jacket down. " Yeah, I know-."

He cut me off. "I'm not accepting your apology. You can't ask forgiveness for something I did. I'm taking responsibility for my actions; you can't do anything about that." Ian looked suddenly tired, as if re-facing the past was too much.

"What I do want to know before you go, is what you have to thank me for?" he said slowly.

"Throwing me out already?" I asked. Ian laughed again. "You can stay. Just not permanently, please. You wouldn't like it here."

"No. I've had too much of prisons."

"Why did you come then?"

"You were the one who got me out of my mental prison. Before I went suicidal. I never really thanked you."

"You did. I remember."

"I don't." There was another long silence. I glanced at my watch. Already 15 minutes had gone by.

"You can leave." Ian said abruptly. "Don't think you have to be polite for my sake. You've said what you came to say." He lowered his eyes to the floor, staring at it intensely. I bit my lip. I wanted to ask him to be the Ian I had known. The one who hadn't betrayed me and didn't want me to leave.

"Is there a reason you aren't looking at me?" I asked, looking at the table where it met his arm.

"It's painful looking at you." The shadows in his eyes had grown, when he finally raised his head. "I tried once to save you. Just once, to prove there was some good in me after all. I succeeded, but it proved nothing, and only led to me betraying you."

"Proved nothing? I'm alive, talking to you here today."

"Exactly. You shouldn't be here, let alone talking to me. You should have never met me. I was the wrong one to help you."

"But what if you hadn't, and no one else did?" I asked incredulously.

"I could have gotten someone else to. I know I could have." He was looking at me now, with almost the same intense gaze he had used on the floor.

"You did though, and I'm glad you did."

Ian sighed. "Go home, Brie. Go live your life, and enjoy it. I don't deserve your forgiveness, so I won't ask for it. But I did love you. I…do love you."

"What?" I breathed, leaning forward slightly. Ian stood, moving with a fluid grace.

"Yes. In that I owe you another apology."

I stood myself. "No. You can't apologize for love."

"Then let me apologize for hiding it after I left and your sister died. I buried it, and it's only now I actually realized that." He looked pained. I didn't know how I felt. I had promised myself I was over him. Ian Howe was out of my life for good. Until, I had to go visit him in jail.

"I forgive you." I said. Ian nodded, some of the shadows vanishing from his face.

"Thank you. Now, please, go." I moved toward the door, ready to summon the guard. Ian took two steps and was right beside me.

"Brie?"

I looked up at him, confused, and racked with conflicting emotions. "Yes?" He leaned slightly over and caught the back of my head, pressing his lips to mine. I kissed him back, not even wondering why I was.

"Promise me you won't come back." Ian said softly, pulling his hand out of my hair. "I've said goodbye to you too many times already. I don't want to say it again."

I nodded, feeling strangely like crying. "I promise." I whispered. "Goodbye, Ian." I tapped the buzzer on the door. It instantly opened and the guard was there, ready to take Ian back to his cell.

"Goodbye, Brie Rivera." He was gone, leaving me torn yet with a peace I hadn't had before. It took me the walk back to my car to realize why. I knew he wasn't truly bad, he had confirmed it.

Once again, Ian Howe had given me the gift of life. He had cut the cords and doubts between us, neatly severing me from him. His past life would not haunt or bother me, and he had insured that I wouldn't be coming back trying to rekindle a relationship, which may or may not be a disaster. I was free to go on with my life, and not look back. Although, some of the memories, I would look back on and treasure.