He knew she was dying even before he made it to her side, part of him actually hoped she was gone even as he knelt to pull her into his arms. He didn't want her to suffer, and he knew if she were alive she was in agony. Her head fell back with a gasp onto his forearm and her eyes fluttered shut just as he whispered, "I love you," against her cheek.
It didn't take long and that surprised him just a bit. Not that he spent much time thinking about people dying, but he was shocked that she died so quickly. He sat there, her head in his lap, her blood pooling around the both of them while his tears flowed unchecked down his face. A few tears landed and slid down her cheek while others made little ripples in the growing pool of blood.
He threw his head back and with one loud, groaning scream, he released all the pain and longing he had held back for so long. He was angry; angry at her, at her killers and at himself. He wanted to hunt each and every one of them down and tear them limb from limb. He wanted to shake her and remind her that she promised she would stay away until it was safe. He wished he knew a way to go back and make sure she'd done as he had asked. But most of all, he wished he had told her how he felt so that she would have known he loved her.
He wasn't sure how long they stayed there, on the ground thick with her blood. His tears had dried up some time ago and her hair was matted and sticking in clumps to his trousers when he finally decided to stand.
As he stood, her head thumped to the ground, a part of him, deep inside thought he shouldn't have allowed that to happen, but the angry part simply understood that what was left wasn't who he loved. She was gone. His angel had left him. Alone he would have to face the darkness that had always threatened him, and which he now felt would consume him.
He carelessly wiped his bloodied hands on his equally bloody shirt and stepped over her body. He glanced down as he did and the thought struck him that she looked like she was smiling at something. He shrugged and continued walking, his heavy work boots leaving thick red footprints across the sidewalk. Power crackled around him and the runes of his staff glowed. He wasn't really sure where he was going, but he had one goal; Revenge.