but darling,
in the end,
you've got to be
your own hero,
because everybody's
busy
trying to save
themselves.
Chapter Twelve: The Beginning of the End
He loved you. He did.
He had never felt such intense emotional feelings for anyone else. It was only you. Out of every other girl he'd met, you were the most pure, the most loyal, the most accepting. You were what he needed to keep on going in this hellish world. You gave him more than he could ever ask for, and he sure as fuck wouldn't let anyone take you away from him.
He wouldn't let anyone else have you, either.
Not your foster parents. Not Zao, and definitely not Alfred. None of them could have you. He didn't think Henry and Lauren even deserved you. Didn't they understand how lucky they were? How could they stand to treat you as badly as they did? The thoughts made his blood boil.
You were his, and he was yours. He'd promised you this and you knew it. You still loved him too, didn't you? Yes… you said you did.
This was his only choice.
If Henry and Lauren wouldn't let you two be together, then he'd simply have to dispose of them.
Murderer.
The word wouldn't leave his mind.
Murderer, murderer.
You're a murderer, Allen.
It was true that he'd always dreamed of taking the life of someone. He wanted to see the light fade from their eyes; he wanted to know what it was like to shoot a bullet down the anatomy of a person he despised. Not only due to his love of guns, but also due to his sociopathic nature. He couldn't stop the dark thoughts from invading his mind, plaguing his thoughts; he supposed he needed help, but who cared? No one. If it bothered you, he'd stop.
But it didn't seem to bother you. Frankly, he was too afraid to ask if it did. He didn't want to know the answer. He knew this was not healthy for his relationship with you, but you'd told him you loved him and that was enough for him to overlook it. Nothing else mattered to him as long as you loved him.
So, he'd get rid of Henry and Lauren. He'd run away with you to a new country if needed. Anything to stay with you, he'd do it.
This didn't mean he wasn't petrified, and not about the running-from-the-law part.
All in all, he was no murderer. He was a rebel, yes, a street-smart young adult with a rough past. Even a person like him was terror-stricken at the serious choice of planning to kill.
He was most fearful of the fact that this was his only choice.
The would-be consequences were eating at him. He was this close to taking one of his guns and putting it to his own head.
The memories of you were all that stopped him.
"_..."
Could he really do this?
Could he really kill them?
He'd know how to cover up his tracks and escape with you, but was he really about to make this fantasy become a reality?
As he stood outside his house in the dead of night, he couldn't stop shaking. His legs felt numb. The weight of the large gun across his shoulder felt like it was a hundred times heavier than usual. Heart pounding, the second thoughts kept him frozen in place. Maybe he couldn't kill them. Maybe he couldn't kill anyone, no matter how much he wanted to.
I'm doing this for her, he reminded himself. If this is what he needed to do to stay with you, he'd do it. Any possible chance of remaining by your side, he would take. He was unbearably in love with you and there was no stopping that.
With that final thought, he proceeded. "For _."
After a few minutes, he stepped up to your house; it was three in the morning, gun strapped to his side. You already had your directions. Speaking on the phone with you, he prepared to say goodbye to these old days. "_... I love you."
A muffled sound was heard in the background. "I… love you too, Allen…"
He stood with his back against the side of your house. He needed to let you know how much you meant to him before he did this. "No, I mean… I, really love you..." He took in a deep breath before he continued with a longing smile, "I wish I could explain how much, but you know I'm not good with words."
He paused. This was harder to say than he imagined. "I… love everything about you. Your personality, your smile, your eyes, your hair, your everything. You already know that a girl's body doesn't influence the way I see or think about her—so I don't like when you feel insecure about yours. I love you, okay? I think you're beautiful on the inside and out, and you're just this amazing chic that's totally out of my league and what the fuck how do I even deserve you?" He chuckled, "I'll say it again: I love you, dollface."
On the other end, you were quiet for a while. "That… means so much to me, thank you." Was all you managed to get out.
"This is what we've been waiting for. I knew it would happen eventually…"
Inside your room, you stopped listening to his voice for a while and glanced over to the sleeping figure across the bedroom.
Peter was slumbering peacefully. How could Allen have forgotten about him?
He hadn't brought him up a single time. None of this "we'll take him with us" that he'd promised you before.
Peter was your sweet, dear little brother that you adored with all your heart and loved like your own blood. He wasn't 'adoptive' to you and Allen knew that.
So, how could he have planned to run away with you if it didn't include him?
Even worse, you couldn't possibly imagine his reaction to waking up in the morning to find you gone and his foster parents murdered. And… equally important, Henry and Lauren had just begun to understand you, and you'd just barely gotten to understand them. For once, everything seemed right within your previously broken family.
…You knew what you had to do.
-D-E-A-D-L-Y-A-T-T-R-A-C-T-I-O-N-
Henry, Lauren, I love you.
Peter, I love you.
Things I'm afraid to tell you.
I told you.
I'm sorry for all that's happened.
I'll fix this, I will.
You looked up at your horrified parents. "—and he's coming to kill you both."
-D-E-A-D-L-Y-A-T-T-R-A-C-T-I-O-N-
"_?" His voice was urgent but pumping with adrenaline. "You ready for this?"
You tiptoed away from your room into the living room and through to the kitchen. "…Y-Yeah."
"Are you sure they're asleep?"
You sighed, "Do we… really have to do this?"
His voice was a caress but his words were a punch. "_, if we leave them alive, we'll never get away. There won't be time. They'll have border patrol to stop us hours before we get there. It's the only way. It will be just us when it's done. No one will ever hurt you again, I swear."
He didn't mention Peter. This was hard. Too hard. You were trapped now.
"Okay."
"Stomp on the phone, throw it around the place, but make sure the battery's in a different yard than the other pieces. Then go get in your bed. I'll do all the rest."
"The kitchen door is open," You said. "L-Let's get it done."
You punched the phone off, opened the back and removed one piece, pushing it deep into the pocket of your jeans, and then dropped the phone on the grungy linoleum floor. Two hard whacks with your heel sent pieces of it skittering across the room. You separated the battery, stomped on it a few more times for good measure. You hurried to the backyard and side-armed the pieces into the heaps of trash and junk piles in the surrounding yards.
You stood for just a second on the porch, your hand on the knob of the kitchen door. Could you do this? Your heart pounded and your mouth was so dry you couldn't swallow. Had you stepped so far over the line that you were capable of a betrayal this big? This horrible?
You opened the door.
Upstairs, you checked on the 'sleeping Peter' and the one that represented you, then slid into your parents' room. You backed into a corner, deep in the shadows and waited. If this was going to happen, you needed to watch. You needed to see it all.
You didn't wait long. You heard the door squeak on the hinge. You didn't know if you heard Allen's breath or yours. You knew you heard your heart pounding, pounding in your head. His red Converse made a muffled sound as he swept through the living room then slowed as he entered your parents' room.
You stilled your breath. Would he hear your heart?
Allen crept up to the side of the bed. Henry's side. The sawed-off shotgun hung down along his left shoulder. From the trickle of moonlight you saw Allen close his eyes and inhale, deep and long. He jacked the shotgun one-handed, his muscles tensing then releasing. Pumping the shells, readying them for their work. He called the sound his shotgun serenade.
An expression of guilt, anxiety, and hesitance crossed his face before he shakily raised the gun.
And…
The muzzle of a handgun pressed against the base of Allen's neck. "Drop it. Now."
The two sleeping figures that were not Henry and Lauren sat up, handguns pointed at Allen's head and torso. The male officer with the German accent commanded, "Put it down easy, dummkopf. Do it."
The officer behind him stated with a Russian dialect, "Hold on to it a second longer and you give me an excuse, yes?"
You glided out of the shadows just as another officer flipped on the overhead light. Allen placed the shotgun on the nightstand. You watched his hands cuffed behind his back. Attempted murder.
He stared at you, and you never looked away.
"_... you betrayed me…" His voice shook and he broke eye contact. Teeth clenched, he said, "Y-You abandoned me just like everyone else…"
Tears were welling up in your eyes. You felt like you should hate him, but you knew that was impossible; whether you liked it or not, you still cared about him. Very much so. "Allen…" You stepped closer as Officer Ivan watched you carefully.
"I… I wish the best for you. Get well soon, Allen."
A salty drop slid down your cheek. He stared at you as an officer pulled him away, but managed to mutter to you, "I'll still… love you…"
"Eh, enough of that. Let's go, Mr. Bad Boy." The officer gave you a look before taking him away.
You didn't think you'd ever see him again, and a part of it hurt.
It did hurt, but you had other people who meant more to you.
-D-E-A-D-L-Y-A-T-T-R-A-C-T-I-O-N-
Stop thinking…
Stop thinking…
Don't think about it anymore, you tried to tell yourself.
It was now two weeks since the… incident.
Allen was turned in, and later taken to a mental hospital. Since he didn't kill anyone, he was not going to jail. However, his psychoanalysis claimed he had some serious emotional issues that required hospitalized attention.
I hope he's doing okay… you admitted to yourself. You held no grudge against him—after all, the only thing he'd ever done was love you.
He was simply not the sanest or 'Mr. Right' for you. I knew that since the beginning… you reminded yourself.
You were currently standing out on your front lawn. The day was bright, the summer sun was shining and waves of heat were apparent on your skin. You were outside for a reason, but at the moment you were lost in thoughts.
A face suddenly peered into yours, startling you out of your musing.
The expression held curious, round red eyes. "Uh, _?"
You jumped in surprise, "Oh… it's you."
Who else?
He was wearing a sleeveless red Changshan today with black lining. The tank top-like shirt happened to show off his muscles, which were larger than his small body type hinted. A black dragon tattoo was visible on his upper left arm while a lion tattoo took over his right shoulder. The symbol for 'China' also was inked into his left wrist. "How are you feeling today, tàitài?"
You sighed quietly, "I'm okay…" You had long given up on telling him not to call you 'wife' in his native language.
After a few seconds, he chuckled and reached for the brim of his military cap. Shading his eyes, he commented, "I've gotta say. You've been through so much, _."
You turned to face him. "Well…"
He smiled sensually at you and looked up, revealing his crimson-red eyes that told no lies. "…And there's still so much in store for you."
A.N.: I'm sorry
Allen I love you baby and I'm so so sorry I had to do this to you
Just leave me alone to die *crumples to the ground* my poor misunderstand rebel asjdhkgjdfk pleASE FORGIVE ME *GROSS SOBBING* ;; n ;;
I-I'M NOT IN A COMPLETELY STABLE CONDITION RN BUT REVIEW MAYBE-? /CLINGS TO ALLEN/ Q ^ Q
