It shouldn't have turned out this way.
Bree stared down at the pretty boy in her lap, stroking his hair as the war around her raged on.
He was supposed to live a long, healthy life.
"Bree, we have to move!"
His art didn't make sense sometimes, but it didn't matter because he himself was the most beautiful work of art.
"The building's going to come down if you don't leave right now!"
Blood poured out of his chest, dampening his clothes and gathering under his arm in the floor. She wasn't supposed to care so much. She knew of the consequences of getting too close yet she stayed and talked and fell harder and harder for him with each passing day.
It was her fault, if you think about it. She should've lied, should've distracted his curious thoughts and steered him away from her family. He shouldn't have followed her into the school, shouldn't have tried to save her life when the enemy fired at her. It was all her fault that he ended up like this.
A pair of hands grabbed her armpits and began to drag her away from him. She kicked and screamed, fighting whoever was trying to separate them. If he was going to die, she deserved the same fate. She clawed at the tile floor, tears running down her face as she battled the force pulling her away. Unfortunately, the need to stay with your love isn't powerful enough to beat the strongest person alive.
She screamed his name, over and over. The smoke clouded her vision and Chase blocked her view as he followed them out. Adam bent down and scooped his little sister in his arms, restraining her hands as she attempted to hit him. Fire consumed the lobby, ceiling tiles crashed to the floor, the entire school was caving in. Still, he was the only thing she saw. She sobbed and sobbed, burying her face into Adam's shoulder as the door slammed shut on her fist love. Her brothers raced away as the building cracked and groaned. It would collapse at any second.
And Owen will become nothing but a memory etched into her mind.
••••••
The funeral was one week later. Bree greeted Owen's parents with sad smiles and tight hugs, then sat in the back of the church with her family. There was no body in the casket since it was crushed under the school, so Bree didn't have to worry about seeing his face in that condition again.
As the guests found their seats and the pastor began his speech, Bree stared at her hands, the events from the week earlier replaying in her head. Why didn't she listen to Mr. Davenport? Why didn't she stay away when she had the chance? If she had, she wouldn't be sitting in a church at her classmate's funeral. But if she had, she wouldn't have experienced love in a different light.
Bree felt her throat close when Owen's mother walked up to the alter to speak. She was trembling and her voice was cracking on every other word. Bree shifted in her seat, squeezing her eyes shut as Owen's mom's voice echoed through her ears.
Silently, she stood and rushed outside, drawing the attention of the back two rows. Adam was on in his feet in seconds and Chase followed suit. Leo began to get up as well, but his mother disapproved.
"Too many people may overwhelm her," she warned.
Bree sat in the middle of the steps, her dress gently swaying in the wind. She broke into sobs and gasps of breaths as she hugged her knees close to her body. Adam skipped down the stairs and collapsed next to her. He wrapped his arms around her fragile body without hesitation. Chase knelt in front of her, his face full of sorrow and concern.
"It's my fault," she cried. "I-I killed Owen."
"Shh," Adam whispered, gently rocking her back and forth. "It's not your fault. None of this is your fault."
"If he hadn't f-followed me into the s-school…"
"He made his choice," Chase said softly, taking her hand. "He wanted to protect you."
"How am I supposed to be a bionic hero if I can't save the ones closest to me?!" she cried, her make up swearing across her cheeks. Chase fought back a smile because she looked like a sad raccoon and wiped away the black with his thumbs.
"I loved him." Her lips were numb as she whispered the words. She turned her head and buried her face into Adam's chest. Chase's stomach turned as he watched his sister in so much pain. He and Adam exchanged pitiful looks as Adam rubbed her back and whispered soothing things in her ear.
"I wanna go home," she hiccuped a few minutes later when she had calmed down.
"Okay," Adam answered, brushing her hair out of her face. He chuckled and added, "Good, because your make up's a mess."
She pursed her lips. "You always know what to say, Adam."
The team rose to their feet, Bree jumping on Chase's back. Adam led the way to his car parked down the street and the younger siblings walked in silence as Adam began listing activities they could do when they got home.
"Let's do that tonight, yeah? I'm tired right now," Bree asked, resting her chin on Chase's shoulder. Adam opened the door for her and Chase turned to gently drop her off in the back. She curled up in a ball and watched the city go by in silence as they headed home.
Bree thought back to the fateful moment when her world began to crumble. If somebody were to paint that moment, it'd be the most heroic painting in history, she was sure of it. She mentally set a goal to find somebody to paint that picture, just so the world could remember Owen as the hero, and not just the artist.
Art never made sense to her until he taught her to look at it in a different light. It's a lot like love, if you think about it. It's confusing and beautiful and heart wrenching all in one picture. Art was one of the first things she learned when she was finally allowed out of the basement. She feared she'd never understand why Owen described it as stunning.
Lucky for her, though, she was in love with somebody who could show her.