Just leave me the fuck alone.

The pain is relentless, and he stumbles in despair. Everything has gone wrong, and now his body is letting him down. Letting Carrie down.

Every step is a torture. He is dying, and he has no backup plan. Fucking god loving good Samaritan stole his death.

He stumbles past a row of trash cans and he hears someone – himself? - whimpering close by.

Fucking do-gooders like Jonas who end up making everything worse. Story of his life, story of his fucking life. And now he is dying out here in the open, and he doesn't know what to do except keep walking one step at a time, despite the great ripping pain that tears through his gut every time he moves.

He must find something, anything. For Carrie.

He stumbles again and catches himself on the lid of the next trash can.

The lid.

The haze clears for a second and it's suddenly very clear, what he must do.

The trash can is not half as good a plan, but it's all he's got now. Death is right here, knocking at the door. If he can't find death before it finds him, then he will at least fucking choose the place.

He heaves against the trash can and cries out as the pain slashes and rips through him once more. Fucking lid is heavy, it barely budges. He has to lean on it once more to catch his breath.

Must disappear. Must not be found. Carrie will be in danger if he is found. Carrie. Even now he can only think of her.

He pushes some more, as the pain burns and burns and burns. The lid lifts a little, but not enough.

For years he has tried and failed to redeem himself, to atone, for the ugliness, the murders and the deaths he carries wherever he goes. He has looked for redemption for such a long time, but it was nowhere to be found. Except in Carrie. Carrie has always been his path to redemption.

Carrie. He feels her hand on her forehead, brushing his temple.

He pushes with all his might against the trash can lid. The pain sears through his abdomen like hot liquid oil poured on his wound, and his legs crumble. He falls backwards onto the ground.

He'll get back up, he's never giving up. There is a figure hovering over him. He wants it to be Carrie, but it's the fucking Samaritan, still.

People always not leaving him the fuck alone, just like they never left Carrie and him the fuck alone either.

He will not quit.

He could never save himself, but he can set her free.