Shine


Peter and El find themselves on the edge of their lives, and things seem bleak. Kind of dark, originally taken from a different story. Based off the song "Shine" by Trent Dabbs.


I know you're tired..
I see your eyes cry, again...
I see you fall...
And I will fall down, with you...
Hold on...


She felt like she was going crazy.

They could have been dead. They should have been dead. They should have died together, swiftly and suddenly, yet they were spared, all because of a faint beeping beneath the mattress at 4 A.M. If they'd woken a minute later, they would have been but a memory to their friends and family. The only thing that had them alive now was Peter's experience with bombs and a lot of luck. But that wasn't what ate away at her now. It was the fact that she wished they had died.

She wouldn't ever have wished death on her husband or herself before then, but now, staring up at the ceiling of Peter's lamplit office, she realized that it would have been better for both of them if he hadn't found the bomb at all; if they had died in their sleep, blissfully, peacefully, together. It would have all been over. No one else would have gotten hurt.

Instead, they found themselves an endless target, a cheat of death, a luck of the dice, rather than the firm existence they were a year ago. They used to belong to the world they now were aliens to, but everything in it seemed bent on erasing their names from the earth, leaving them in the constant limbo of who would live without whom, or moreover, who would die first. Who would death recapture the soonest? Who could run the longest?

Was that the way of life for everyone? She certainly didn't remember it that way. Back in the days of new marriage, of safety and security, of romance and hand-holding and cheek-kissing, where the only thing they feared was their parents' disapproval. Life was so simple back then, even if they hadn't known it. She couldn't think of a thing in the world she wouldn't give to go back to that time.

But she knew she never could, and she never would, which only broke her heart more. Wasn't that what life was supposed to be? Loving and trusting, no matter the time or place or problem, in the person you gave your heart to? She thought that was something everyone deserved; a happy life with a happy ending to tie it off. Where had hers gone?

Although, she did know where her happy ending was. He was lying beside her on the air mattress, eyes closed but probably not sleeping. His arms were wrapped around her, but too tightly to be resting, as if he was afraid she'd slip away while he slept. His chest rose and fell slowly, which had almost had her fooled, but every once in a while, his breathing suddenly ceased, and he held his breath for a moment before exhaled. He was thinking too much. They both were.

She wanted to say something; to remind him that he could talk to her, but she was too scared that he would, and that she'd find out they were thinking the same things. Did he want to be dead, too? Did he wish that the bomb had activated, so they could be swept away from the violent world they inhabited and release the threats hanging over their heads, and in it all, never separated? She didn't want him to think like that – she didn't want to think like that. If he told her that he felt everything she felt, she didn't know if she'd feel relieved, or terrified, or heartbroken.

She couldn't take the chance. She just wouldn't speak, to save both of them the trouble and pain that solidifying what they already knew would cause.


Shine, like the rivers that sent you...
Baby, we'll run so far away from here...
I've loved you so long, I can hardly remember
What it was like without you here...


He was losing hope. He knew they were reaching their limit, and wasn't sure how much further they could go, or what would happen when they couldn't take anymore. It wasn't like they could escape. If he knew a way, he'd take it in a heartbeat.

Looking at her now, seeing her at her lowest point of devastation, he wanted an escape more than ever. It didn't matter where or how, but whatever it took, he'd do it. He didn't know what he wouldn't give just to take her away from everything, to find somewhere they could call home. He'd do anything to promise her something, to give her a hope to believe in – to give her a reason to believe in him. She deserved that much; they both did. But deserving had nothing to do with the matter. Had it ever?

The world had a different definition of escape, however. All the bureau had for them was Witness Protection, and that meant separation... something neither of them could take. After all this time, it seemed the only person on his side was El, and he assumed she felt the same. He wanted to protect her at all costs, and if you'd asked him a year ago, he would have sent her off in WitSec without a qualm, so long as it kept her safe for a while. But he didn't trust the bureau. He didn't trust any of them now, and certainly not with his wife at stake. After everything that had happened to them as of late, all they'd been through, he refused to leave her now. Entrusting her life with another was the reason they were where they were now: on lockdown at the White Collar unit, wasting countless hours of sleep thinking about things they couldn't change and the inevitable they couldn't face - they were going to die, with or without each other, and everyone around them seemed certain it would be without. They were wrong. Even if he couldn't protect her from everything, he wasn't about to leave her alone. Never.

But ultimately, the world would decide without him, and whatever decision made would not provide a guarantee that he could make it back to living life; to a home, and a job, and a peace of knowing that no one would kill them then, nor would they tomorrow. Nothing could promise him that he and El would ever have children, or see the world, or grow old together. It was all a variable, while it used to be a certainty, an unquestionable future that they would make together. Faith in it all was now desperate imagination, rather than excited anticipation. He hoped she didn't feel the same.

He wanted her to still believe, to have enough faith for both of them. But that wasn't fair to expect of her; not under these dire circumstances. He couldn't ask her to carry both of them on her back, even if she could. And he wouldn't. He'd keep his promise, one he'd made the day he'd bent down on one knee, which was to carry her when she couldn't go on. He knew that she'd carry him, too, and when the world turned its back, and life did catch up with them, they'd have each other to fall into. They always had before, and nothing had changed. No matter who had broken their trust, or turned them in, or given them up, they always had someone to turn back to.

That was something they'd never lost faith in, nor could they: each other.


This is part of a storyline I never used, so some things are only suggested; i.e. the bomb, the lockdown, etc. This is basically an "when-all-hope-is-lost", "who-can-you-trust" sort of thing. And also the last thing I will be writing before my birthday, which is tomorrow :) I kinda had a nervous breakdown and had to lock myself in a dark room for an hour to make this happen. Suddenly, I feel much better :)

If you've got the time, please leave a quick review. It's much appreciated!

* *-TheSongbird341-* *


DISCLAIMER: I don't own White Collar, Shine, or Trent Dabbs. Sorry.