A/N: In accordance to what I saw in the season three finale( The Day We Died) -SPOILER- at the funeral, Walter's POV,
so, uh, obvious spoilers for that. :D
I had expected to feel something when I saw her, but I didn't expect to be consumed by it. She's changed so much. Yet I still get the same feeling. I'm sure, if I were to talk to her, she would speak the same, sound the same. Yet she looks so different.
I'd been locked away for so long. Away from everyone I need and everything I enjoy. She had cried when the verdict was read, when I received my conviction at my trial. I could sense the hurt in her as they shackled me in iron and ushered me out of the room. I had looked in her eyes one final time, and realized three things all at once.
I saw how broken she looked, like a recently clipped bird of prey, and I could see that I had caused it. I felt the pain she felt, if not more. I felt as though I were abandoning her. It pained my stomach and my heart, and caused a swelling of my eyes and throat. And, at that moment, I could admit that I loved her; that I was in love with her.
I had had to look away in shame, and hang my head low as I allowed a few tears to escape. We never said good-bye.
That was twelve years ago.
Now I look at her and feel so much. All I want is to touch her. To brush against her and to hold her. To have her in my arms. Reassure her I am here, and embrace her unto we both enter into Nirvana. To place my old, dry lips against her young flesh. Surround myself in her.
But I can't. She probably won't allow it. After all, I am more worn out than ever. It pains me to see her and not to have her after so long. Not even a simple graze of the hands.
These shackles hold me in more ways than one.
It truly is a time of mourning. For the loss of both the women I love.
I almost smile: it's such a funny world. Olivia is dead. Everyone hates me. Astrid won't even look at me. Peter is in so much pain I can't even look at him. Ella refuses to acknowledge my existence thus far.
I'm not sure what I have to live for.