A/N: I'm laughing so hard... I'm going to make it official, you guys, this is not a slash fic , okay? (Even though every bone in my body is begging me to make it one. If you want to think of them like that I won't stop you. It's supposed to be open to interpretation.)
Last chapter! This is it! You guys have been absolutely wonderful and I love you- I hope you enjoy the end as much as you did the beginning.
Halt didn't have any hope of getting a wink of sleep that night. After all, how could he? With the caffeine in his system, and the tornado of thoughts twisting through his mind… it wasn't an option.
He was trapped in his own body, with a heart that wouldn't stop pounding, in a twilight zone where even if he wasn't thinking about what he had to do, he felt every torturous moment. Halt was waiting for something, but what? Death?
Will. Crowley. Gilan. The Corps. He couldn't stop thinking about them, no matter how hard he tried. As long as he was awake, they'd be running through his mind.
If anything got out… everybody would have to go into hiding. Crowley and Gilan, lifelong friends, would be fired, hunted, and put into grave danger now that everybody knew exactly who they were. Halt and Crowley's work reviving the Corps would be destroyed. And, worst case scenario but an entirely possible one… the government may think it better to put them to death, rather than risk another country reaching them and torturing them for any more information. And if they didn't, they could get captured by another country (nevermind, that was the worst case scenario).
But he had the documents, didn't he? Will didn't have them anymore, so he couldn't leak any information. Right? Yes. So his friends were safe. So what did he have to worry about?
It was an indescribable feeling. Something was lurking in his mind, sending his heart into hysteria and yet forbidding him and the outside world from any movement whatsoever. For hours he laid on his bed, in a frantic coma that he put himself in.
How long had Halt been lying there? The question wasn't if it had been hours, but how many hours. He had a clock nearby but his eyes couldn't blink, let alone move.
He didn't realize he hadn't heard anything in so long until he did hear something: a ringing, coming from the drawer of his nightstand.
Halt came out of his chrysalis just enough to reach over the side of the bed, open the drawer, and recover his cellphone. His second cellphone, that was.
Just as it was about to go to voicemail, Halt answered the call and held the speaker up to his ear. "Hello?" he asked, as faint as a ghost.
"HALT!"
Crowley.
"DIDN'T I TELL YOU TO SEARCH EVERYWHERE FOR THOSE PAPERS?! AND DID YOU?! OR MAYBE YOU DID FIND THEM, BUT YOU DISREGARDED EVERYTHING ELSE I SAID!"
"Wh… Crowley…"
"HE LEAKED THEM, HALT. EVERYTHING. ONLINE FOR THE WHOLE GODDAMN WORLD TO SEE. AND THEY'RE DOWN, BUT WE DIDN'T GET LUCKY THIS TIME LIKE WE DID WITH HIS FATHER. ENOUGH PEOPLE SAW THEM TO CAUSE A PROBLEM… YOU KNOW HOW PARANOID WE ARE. IT WON'T BE GOING ON THE FRONT PAGE OF THE NEWSPAPER BUT THERE WERE ADDRESSES. IDENTITIES. CLASSIFIED JOBS AND SECRETS. FREE TO THE PUBLIC. GODDAMMIT HALT!"
Crowley hardly ever cursed, even when he was angry, but he wasn't just angry. He wasn't even furious. He was terrified.
When he calmed down a little, Halt could hear the fear breaking into his voice. "H-Halt…" he hissed, "what exactly happened?"
"I…" Halt could barely think, between being in a coma-like state for the past (he saw now, looking at the clock) three hours, and even more so for being yelled at by someone who never, ever yelled at him. Finally, he was able to muster a short version of the events of that night: "I searched his house, and I found the documents… but I took them, and I figured that since I had them, he wasn't a threat anymore."
"So you have them?"
"Yes." Halt put a hand on the drawer where the phone used to be, also where he had hidden the papers in question.
There was a short pause on the other end of the line. "Did you… ever consider that maybe he'd copied them, or memorized some of the information?"
No. No, he hadn't. Of course he hadn't.
"Halt," Crowley said, "I told you before that I don't want to make you kill Mr. Treaty, if you really feel so deeply for him. But I also told you that if he had nothing to hide, he had nothing to deserve. Well…"
The numbness from Halt's body was fading, but it was replaced, as quickly as it was leaving, with excruciating pain. "He's our enemy now," Crowley said. "I'm really sorry- I truly am, but I have to put the Corps first. I'm going into hiding, for now, along with most of the people here at the Corps, Gilan included. It's too dangerous for us here, and not just from the public. From the people who hired us. Halt, these are my final orders, and I'm not going to give them again."
"Kill. Will. Treaty."
Never had Halt wished for traffic more than he did then. But it was two in the morning. There was nothing in his way but himself.
He'd been so ecstatic. He was going to leave the Corps… let every day be like the night before, when he and Will had dinner together. It was such a normal thing to do, but so perfect he could relive it for years. He didn't want anything eccentric. He just wanted a life like everyone else, doing normal people things… but doing them with Will.
Now, wanting anything like that felt like he was reaching for the moon.
On the radio, guitars and drums crashed loudly together tidal waves. Then the words followed, whispered:
"It's party night tonight, just like every night;
And once again, you've death defied."
Lovely Bones. By Dead and Divine.
Halt wanted to turn the radio off, but silence would be even worse.
He thought the drive was farther than this. It'd been a minute and a half since he left, and he was already turning the corner onto Will's street. What if he just… turned right… there was a nice brick wall there, waiting for him. If somebody was going to die tonight, maybe it didn't have to be Will.
But if he was going to die tonight, then Crowley, Gilan and the rest of the Corps would surely follow, right? They were already in danger, and if he didn't do something about the source of that danger, it would just get worse. What's to stop Will from putting more information out? Any more and it would definitely make it to the front page of the newspaper. Until that happened, all of those previous scenarios were just nightmares. Until it happened…
But this struggle wasn't hopeless yet. Halt was way too stubborn for that.
"Let's shoot some drugs and fall in love,
'Cause I feel like getting tangled up in your bones.
Someone gave you up; you were prosthetic in love,
But I will keep you-"
Halt turned off the volume before that sentence could end. It didn't matter. He had arrived at his destination anyway.
Halt didn't expect Will to answer, but he still knocked anyway. No response.
"Will!" he called. He paused, to take a deep breath and calm himself down before he sounded angry. "Will, I know you know why I'm here. But I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk…"
Still nothing. The lights inside the house were on, so Will was awake, and he could hear who was at his door. He just needed a little more reason to trust him. They could figure this out, if they wanted it badly enough.
"I had the opportunity to kill you when I found the documents," Halt reasoned, "but I didn't. Because I can't. Just let me in, or they may send someone who won't hesitate."
It took ten seconds for something to happen. Halt knew, with his intuition, that if he waited, Will would open the door. He waited until he started to second guess himself- but he was right the first time. The door opened, to reveal Will, looking afraid and slightly dense.
"I know we're on the same page now," Will said, as he let Halt walk in. "But before you do anything, please let me explain."
"I told you, Will. I'm not going to do anything." Halt stood near the back of the couch, with his hands in the pockets of a black, knee-length trench coat. Dressed in all black like he was, anyone would look intimidating, but somehow he managed to pull that off without being absolutely "scary". "Explain," he told him.
Will didn't know how he should begin. There was so much he wanted to tell him… how could he get Halt to understand what was happening to him in words? Moreover, would any set of words be enough?
He just started at the beginning: "I found those papers in my mailbox, after I walked home from spending the night at your room. I read the note and I… finally understood, with everything that you said, that everything your boss said was right. I… I cried, actually, when I realized that. And I was very conflicted. Should I finish what my father started? Should I give them to you and risk dying?"
Will sighed. Now the words were coming to him fine. "Then, after doing some more thinking… I realized that if I released the information, it wasn't carrying out my father's dreams, because I was obligated to, because he was my father. It was making something of his death, because someone like him can't die for something that doesn't happen." He clenched his fists by his sides, balling together the fabric of his blue jeans. "I thought, those three years that we were apart, that I forced myself to forget about how much I loved him, that we both suffered in silence… that wasn't all for nothing. Sometimes you do everything you can, and you still fail, but this wasn't going to be like that- I'm not going to settle for that!" he exclaimed. "His death won't be in vain! Not like Alyss! Not again!"
Will couldn't support himself anymore. He collapsed onto his knees, on the carpet, tears breaking down his face. Halt wanted to kneel down; put his arms around him, but it felt so helpless now.
"I know you said before that sometimes horrible things happen, and it doesn't mean anything…" He looked up at Halt. Into his eyes. Everywhere all at once. "Maybe that's because we're not trying hard enough to make something of it."
"Well not like this," Halt snapped. "Not by hurting other people! Crowley and Gilan," Halt couldn't help saying their names, because this wasn't the time for caution, "are in grave danger now, because if they go out to the public, someone will catch them, and if they go to the government, they may put them to death. They are in danger of being killed, and…" But those last words, he held back. 'And it's all your fault.' He couldn't say that.
Will was starting to understand, now. He stood up, walked around to the couch, and let himself fall into the cushion. "How much damage did I do?" he whispered.
"Enough to get the news out there." Halt leaned on the end. Now the air was starting to relax, like it should. This was good. "Crowley said it wouldn't make the front page of the newspaper, but it's enough to scare the Corps into hiding. They won't be out for a long time."
"I'm sorry."
"Are you?"
"I'm sorry. Not regretful."
There was a pause. A short one, but one that felt a lot longer than it lasted. Time and perception were just human illusions, after all.
"Want some coffee?" Will asked.
Halt almost smiled, because that was kind of funny. Will got the idea, just like him, that this conversation wasn't going to end soon. For the first time in a while he wanted to smile, so badly, but he couldn't remember how to feel it. "Always," he said.
Halt waited by his side, while Will made them both some coffee. He'd offered to help, but not genuinely, because Will's coffee tasted a lot better than when Halt made it for himself.
Will wasn't expecting any conversation that minute, but he got it, whether he wanted it or not.
"If I don't kill you," said Halt, "what are you honestly going to do?"
Honestly, hm? Does he really want honesty, Will wondered, or does he want the answer he's thinking of?
"Then I'm going to put those secrets on every website on the Internet until every person on Earth knows what my father sacrificed for them." Will opened the jar of coffee beans. He ignored Halt's stare like there was no one standing next to him.
Halt's eyes turned down after he decided Will wasn't going to see him. "Why?" he asked. "You've done what he wanted."
"But you said it yourself- it almost had a big impact," Will said. "That's not good enough. Even if I was exaggerating just now, it's not nearly well-known enough to make a difference. More people know, now, so they'll be watching for more information to come out, right? Then I'll give them more."
Halt sighed. His hands clenched the edges of the counter that were supporting him. "I still don't understand," he muttered.
"Think of it like this… You and Crowley are reviving the Corps together. You've almost made it official, but suddenly, Crowley dies. It's not his time. He's been taken decades before he should've. Do you give up making the Corps again, just because he's gone, or do you feel even more determined than when he was alive?" Will explained. "What if you got everyone back together, but the government didn't acknowledge your existence? Would you stop there?"
A part of Halt was still confused as to why Will felt like he did, and wanted to do this, but that part was forcing it now. When Will put it like that, he completely understood, and he hated that.
Halt would be furious if Will's scenario had happened. Thirsty for revenge. Broken-hearted. Uncompromising… even if it put other people in danger. After all, he didn't know those people. Maybe if Will knew Crowley and Gilan, he'd think twice, but as far as he knew they were all the same.
"Crowley and Gilan are good people," Halt said. "Don't hurt them."
"I don't know that," Will replied. Just like Halt had expected. "But," he continued, "out of courtesy to you, I'll leave their contacts out of my second posting. How about that?" He turned to him; asked, "Then can I do it?"
Halt had come up with the idea himself, even before Will had suggested it. He didn't think Will would let that happen; evidently he would. So Halt thought he'd be okay with it… but he wasn't. Surprisingly, Halt found himself saying, "No, that's not enough. The information's already been posted once, and even if they aren't known by the public to be part of the Corps, the government knows. They'll seek them out anyway. Not only that, but…" he took a breath; it was painful every time he found a new reason to disagree, "the entirety of the Ranger Corps is what people are going to be looking at. Crowley is the head of it, and Gilan is a high-ranking man. There's no way to take them out of the spotlight."
The coffee machine was running now. Somewhere in the middle of Halt's speech, Will had looked away from him and at it. "Okay," he whispered. "I guess I understand."
Halt got his coffee; Will had insisted that he didn't need a drink. That triggered a bad thought inside Halt. Could he really trust anything Will made for him, now, he wondered?
…Well of course. He'd been watching him the whole time, and Will would never go behind his back to do something like slip a drug in his drink.
Halt took a sip of the coffee. It was delicious, like he knew it would be, aside from the bitter aftertaste he couldn't get rid of. It wasn't from the drink, though.
Only then did he realize that Will was waiting for some feedback. "It's good," Halt said.
"Good, good."
Silence passed, as quickly as time did when they were talking. Time was being weird that night (or, morning, really). It was either torturously slow, or moving way too quickly.
Halt found something that had to be said, before they went any farther.
"My friends will be safe," Halt stated. He never, ever said things like this, out loud or otherwise, but he felt himself holding nothing back anymore. The windows looking out, after being latched for so long, were finally letting in the rain. "I love them. I'm going to protect them, at all costs."
"I know… That's why I'm not going to mention them when I put that information out again."
"No. You're not going to put any information out." Halt narrowed his eyes. "I really shouldn't be trying to compromise," he said. "I've been given orders to kill you, don't you understand?"
"I understand completely," said Will.
"I wouldn't dare lay a finger on you. If you promise not to leak anything then…" Halt looked away, and set the coffee on the counter. Reluctantly, he went on, "Then I wouldn't dare return to the Corps. I didn't want to, anyway."
Will knew where this was going. "I'll quit my job," he said.
"We can go away… start over. Get a clean slate."
Both of them were both starting to smile at the mere thought of it. They hadn't even gotten into the specifics, and already, tons of possibilities were flashing before their eyes. They didn't want much. Just a normal, boring, uneventful life… but with each other. "I would love that," said Will.
"It'll happen…" Halt continued, looking him in the eyes now, "if you promise not to say anything to anyone about the information your father gave you."
Will's eyes darkened, and his rare, genuine wildfire of a smile dissipated into thin air. "Just let me tell them," he pleaded. "Just once."
Halt was firm in his response: "I can't compromise on this, Will."
"Well I can't either," Will replied.
The assassin sighed a sigh… that was hardly a sigh at all. Just a tiny jar of breath, releasing from his mouth like a puff of cigarette smoke. "I have direct orders to kill you," he whispered. No words had ever scared him so much in his life. Well, except for the ones coming out of Will-
"Then fucking do it already."
Halt's heart leaped into the air. Never had he heard Will curse before. God, everyone was cursing at him today, weren't they? Will, Crowley… But, God, that wasn't nearly the most terrifying thing about that sentence.
Will, of course, noticed Halt's reaction. He knew it'd be something like that. Nevertheless, he didn't mean his answer any less than when he had said it, and there was just no other way to say it. When Will looked into Halt's eyes, he stared with steel. There were a lot of things about life, and himself that he was confused about. There were a lot of things he had to learn, and a lot of years to live… but this was certain, even if Will had to die to make it happen.
"Do it," Will said, standing up straight. "I'd rather die by your hand than die of old age, having done nothing. I can't live without at least doing everything in my power."
"I can't live without you."
"You don't have to," Will said. "Just-"
"Just do what? Give up on them? Leave everyone to die?" Halt asked.
Will looked away, sheepishly knowing that Halt had a point. He didn't want Halt to kill him, but he also didn't want him to let him live… He didn't want to hurt Halt's friends, but not enough to give up.
He didn't want to die, but he understood if he did. Why couldn't he just pick a side?
If he died, both his, his father's, and Alyss's lives would be wasted; just two more bodies laid on the pile of unimportant souls that grew higher with every day. People all around the world died, and nobody knew who they were or what they died for. It would be just the same for them, if Will didn't do anything. That wasn't fair. Alyss's death wasn't unimportant. His father couldn't die for something that failed.
Will knew Halt wouldn't kill him. If he felt for Will the same, mindless affection that Will felt for Halt, Will knew for certain he wouldn't kill him. Right? Then again, looking at how much he loved his friends…
Will began to walk away, to the couch. His legs and his head were getting tired, and he needed to look away.
But, when his back was turned, he felt someone brush up behind him and put a cold coin to his head. He froze… He didn't fight back. Halt was gripping tightly the fabric of his shirt, so Will couldn't run anywhere. He waited, prepared for that booming sound of a bullet going through his head… But he found that no matter how many seconds passed, Halt wouldn't pull the trigger.
He was pushed off of Halt's chest, spun around to face him. He still had a black pistol in his hand, ready whenever he may need it.
Halt looked like he had something to say, and yet no words came out of his mouth. It just stayed, trembling open, waiting for something. For what? For the gun to go off, accidentally? Would that be their saving grace?
Will continued, then, his walk to the couch. And Halt joined him on his left side moments later, with his coffee in one hand and a fatal weapon in the other. Their efforts proved, once again, to be hopeless.
"Is there any scenario where everything can work out for the better?" he asked them both. "I can't put the Corps in danger. I need to protect them, but I can't do that without killing you. You need to honor and avenge your father, but you can't do that without making me kill you. Is there a scenario where both of us can end up together in the end?"
Will's smile in those next few moments wasn't a happy one. It was the grim smile of a dead-man. "I don't know," he said.
Will laid his head on Halt's shoulder, and Halt snapped out of it. The future wasn't fixed yet. Sure, Halt had already revisited this idea a million times, but he knew in his heart that if they wanted it this much, then it was impossible that either of them would give up. He couldn't give this up; the familiarity of Will's head on his shoulder, even though it was the first time he'd ever felt it. It was the most natural and ground-shaking feeling, and it was barely a touch. He didn't want to move, ever, unless they were getting closer.
"What now, then?" Halt asked.
Will picked up the TV remote on the couch arm next to him, and flipped on the black box. "We watch TV, of course," said Will. He silently looked through the channels with Halt, trying to find something decent to watch until time overtook them, and there was no more time to buy. One of them had to give something up.
Will knew that Halt wasn't watching the movie (what movie was this, again?), but he didn't care. He was only half watching it, too. Everything was in Halt's hands now, and there was nothing he could do until his friend came to a decision.
Don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me, one half of him prayed.
I understand, said the other half. Do what you have to do, but I'm not going to change my mind.
Halt had to look at all the angles. If Will didn't post anything about the Corps, and only the top government, then would that be okay?
No, people already knew about them from the first round. It was too late not to hurt anyone he knew.
"Promise," Halt whispered. "Promise you won't say anything to anyone about that information."
"All I can promise is that I'm sorry," said Will.
His determination was a train without brakes. No matter how painful this was for him, whenever he checked in with that train, it was still going. Still moving like a bullet, screaming "if I don't do anything, that's when my father will be dead". God, he wished it'd stop. But he couldn't deny that fire inside of him that wouldn't burn out.
"What movie is this?" Will asked.
"I have no idea." Will started to laugh, despite himself. As he quieted down, he heard to his delight that Halt was joining him, too.
He checked. It was:
"Good Will Hunting," he told him.
Halt sneered. "The universe is making puns now," he muttered. "We're all going to hell for that one."
Will smiled, and leaned farther into him. He'd seen this movie before, so it didn't matter if he closed his eyes.
Don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me, one half of him prayed.
I understand, said the other half. Do what you have to do, but I'm not going to change my mind.
Whatever you do, they said, in unison this time, just don't get up. Please don't ever leave.
A bolt of lightning shattered the sky in half, and sent thunder booming through the crack… Halt looked down at the boy with his head on his shoulder, to make sure it hadn't woken him up. Will was so deep in sleep, the sound hadn't disturbed him one bit.
Halt looked at his watch. It was… shit. 5:01 AM.
Three hours had passed since Halt got to Will's house, but, again, time and perception were not parallel to each other. Not even close. Halt's judgement ceased to exist the moment Will laid his head on his shoulder.
Another sound of thunder sounded from outside, as loud as if it was inside the room with them. The lightning and thunder were crashing and working together to shake the hollow sky to pieces, like the notes in the beginning of the song earlier.
"Mm…" Will muttered, "it's raining, isn't it?"
"Yes, and very loudly."
"Yeah… What time is it?" he asked.
Halt answered, "Five o'clock."
Will's eyebrows rose, though his eyes were still shut. "Wow," he muttered. "It's been a while…"
Silence. Their old enemy. Lots of things could happen inside silence; it was a dangerous thing to hold; a thin line to walk…
"Am I dead?" Will whispered.
Halt shook his head, calmly responding, "No. It certainly feels that way, but I know you're not dead. If you're dead, then we must both be."
The sound of thunder and rain beat on the roof, like it could break through at any moment.
"Do you promise?" Halt asked.
He opened his eyes to slits. He was afraid of any light leaking in and blinding him, but the only light that he saw was that from the TV, so it didn't hurt much. It was five o'clock. The sun would be coming up in two hours, give or take. Then again, with the state of the sky outside, they probably wouldn't be seeing any sun for some time. "I told you, Halt, and my answer is the same," said Will. "I can't promise anything but that I'm sorry."
It's not like they weren't trying to think of other options. It's just that everything they could do required them to give up something they couldn't give up. They always came back to where they started.
…Thinking was so dangerous nowadays. If you thought too hard, then you might come up with a good answer.
Like, if Will killed Halt, then all his problems would be solved.
But he shoved the thought out of his head as soon as it came. Yes, he could do what he wanted for his father, and yes, he wouldn't have to worry about dying, but Halt would be dead, so it was immediately not an option.
He didn't notice until that moment, when he looked over at him, that the pistol was still out, resting on Halt's thigh. Put it away, Will willed him, silently. Let me know it's never going to be a solution for you, either.
"I think the coffee is starting to wear off," Halt muttered, taking a yawn and leaning his head back on the couch. "We can both go back to sleep." And those were his last words, before Will heard his quiet snoring minutes later. It wasn't disruptive, but the exact opposite. A lullaby, asking to sing him to sleep.
So, instead of putting the gun away and helping Will shove all those thoughts out of his head for good, Halt just gave him a better opportunity to take that gun, point it to his head and turn the tables.
Will came to a decision.
The only action he could take was accomplishing the only thing he had straight in his head:
He had to make his father's death matter.
In his room was his laptop, with all the information he'd copied (which was most of the information he'd gotten), and once he posted that, it was over and done with. Halt surely wouldn't kill him if it wouldn't accomplish anything, right? And if he left all the contacts of the employees working in the Corps, then maybe that would earn him something.
Halt's job was already pretty much quit. Will could leave his. They'd disappear, just like they'd talked about, into the hollow, broken sky, instead of just wondering about it like they had for the past few days.
He rose to his feet, as the thunder echoed outside the walls of the house and shook the world to pieces again. With another glance at Halt, and how perfect he looked when he slept, he was sure that man was asleep.
Except, Halt would never snore. He was an assassin, of course, and he had to sleep like he was dead if he ever needed it.
"Going somewhere?" came a low voice.
Will froze before he could even get to his feet.
"Stay," Halt said, almost ordered. He lifted his head up, and stared him darkly in the eyes.
Will slowly sat back down, into Halt's open arms.
"You were going to go post the information, weren't you?" Halt asked. Will nodded in response. "I thought so… but I can't let you do that."
"You can't keep me here forever," Will told him.
"I can try, just until time runs out."
"And when will that be?" asked Will.
"Until I find scenario where we end up together."
"Don't you see, Halt?" Will almost exclaimed. He sat up, off of Halt, and turned at an angle where he could face him without getting off the couch. "It's impossible. I can't live my life without doing something that you can't let happen. We're just going in circles, trying to have it all… It's just a game of Russian Roulette."
More thunder reminded them of the rising storm outside. They didn't need it, because they were feeling it just as well inside.
"There's nothing either of us could've done," Will said. "Just let me tell everyone, one more time-"
"Somebody's going to get hurt, Will, but hurting my friends is not what's inevitable here," said Halt. A few tears crawled down his face.
Will had never seen Halt cry before. Whenever one of them was crying, it was always Will. He could think of countless instances… but he'd always looked so perfect when he did. Beautifully broken.
When he was freshly off his high and Halt was carrying him home.
When he was talking with him outside the Starbucks.
Back to that very first moment when he saw his front come down and it hurt something inside him.
So it was agreed. They were playing a game of Russian Roulette, and Halt had fired his revolver, if he had a revolver, five times. No bullets had come out, and five opportunities were gone.
"Any other situation, and none of this would be happening." The end of a cold, life-taking barrel pressed against the other side of Will's head, opposite from Halt. "Any other world, and I'd never let you go."
Will nodded. Tears rolled down his face, identical to the ones on Halt's face and the raindrops on the window. "I know," he whispered.
"Any other world and I…" he sobbed.
"And how are those things that crawled up inside your head?"
And yet, Halt's gun came down. He turned to face the TV, like everything was normal again and it was a normal Friday, movie night. Will played along. There was nothing he could do now. Any move he made, the same thing would happen. So he gave Halt the wheel.
"There's something very damaged about you,
But I've got a bad habit of never giving up,
Even when you want me to."
…So Halt released all thought, and threw it up in the air for somebody else to decide if there was anything else he could do. It's not a good way to spend your last few seconds thinking.
"I can feel the dawn peering in,
And I'm gonna lose you all over again."
"It was never possible," Halt whispered. "Was it?"
"No," Will agreed. He thought back to everything that had happened in the past three days. "Everything we could've possibly done would've ended us up here, so there's nothing to be sad about. The only way we wouldn't be here right now… is if you had killed me the first time you saw me."
"I kind of wish I had, now," said Halt, honestly.
"I kind of do, too."
"Let's shoot some drugs and fall in love,
Cause I feel like getting tangled up in your bones."
"I found it," Halt said, suddenly, whispering into Will's hair. He smelled nice. Like happiness… almost.
"Found what?" Will asked. His eyes were closed, and he was listening closely to Halt's heartbeat. Even through his jacket, this time, he could hear it. It was beating so quickly, he thought it would explode. And yet, it was still so relaxing. So centered. He memorized it, for later.
"Someone gave you up; you were prosthetic in love…"
"That better thing, that makes up for all the other, meaningless tragedies that happened before," Halt answered.
"But I will keep you…"
He lifted his arm, again, and touched the cold end of his gun to his target's head. "You know it'll always be you," the assassin said.
"Carved inside my gun."
And he did. He kept him, carved, inside his retinas. When he stepped outside, and drenched himself in the rain falling from the black hole above him, no water could wash the blood off his clothes, where Will's head used to lay.
