End of angst. Lol.

Chapter Eleven-Song For You Part III

And I see you
Hiding your face in your hands
Flying so you won't land
You think no one understands
No one understands

He'd been having a sense lately, a sense that something was a little off. That something wasn't totally wrong yet, but he felt that it could become so very soon if he didn't do something. That something wasn't about his men or his mission, which just about everyone would heave a sigh of relief at, but not him. This something that was little off was about her, and in his mind that was much worse.

He should have stopped to consider what she'd said that night, but there were so many emotions coursing through him as his fears had come true that he hadn't even thought to take a breath and consider. "I can't change. I don't know how." Then, he'd accepted it as fact. After all, she was the genius; who was he to challenge her evidence? But how wrong he was in letting that one slip. He knew all about her feelings of inadequacy, of lovelessness. In fact, every time she felt those feelings, he felt his heart ripping into pieces, so why couldn't he feel it that night? Why didn't he see what was happening? Most probably he mistook the ripping of his heart because of her feelings for the ripping of his heart because of his own.

In those moments on the bottom of the steps he had proven to her that no one understood her. He'd sworn she'd never go back to the way she felt before, but by not responding to her declaration, which he now recognized as a plea, he'd confirmed her suspicions that she was incapable of anything emotional and had encouraged her to run and hide because no one could possibly understand her.

But none of that was true. He understood. He understood perfectly, or else he wouldn't even be having these thoughts and running them through his mind day and night. He closed his eyes and he could see her doing the same, feeling empty and lost some 3,000 or more miles away. He managed a smile; just thinking of her would do that to him. She thought no one understood, but she was so wrong. He chuckled as he thought of the time he'd uttered, "Pinky stumps The Brain!" though now he knew the answer to something much less trivial. And suddenly he realized that he had to let her know. Yes, that was the thing to do. Let her know about his revolutionary discovery, just as she would let him know about hers. He ran to his cot, grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from underneath, and started writing.