Miles stood there staring, frozen where he was as he watched the skilled team of medics work furiously, trying to save Tris. His Tristan. His beautiful, kind, caring boyfriend. The boy he'd not even been able to call his for very long. That was his fault, he knew that. He'd been so afraid, but he'd done it, he had and surely he deserved to keep him now? He watched them attempt to revive a lifeless Tristan for seventeen minutes. Miles knew because he'd counted the seconds in his head, praying that every time he hit a whole number the machines wired up to Tris might show some signs of life again. For seventeen minutes, he was pretty sure he didn't blink. His eyes were burning but he had a job to do and blinking would be careless. All the time they were still working there was hope there. A tiny glimmer of hope that gave Miles every reason to keep counting. When he saw the hands conducting CPR on Tris's chest still, Miles let his eyes flicker to the doctor attached to them. He wasn't stupid, he noticed the look of agreement on all of their faces. That was when he blinked, and two huge tears spilled from his searing eyes. He couldn't watch them give up on him. He couldn't hear them say they were sorry.
As he backed up out of the emergency room shaking his head on the verge of hysterics, he nearly fell through the doors containing his own personal hell. Scrambling for his balance, he bolted as fast as he could. He didn't know where he was running to, but he couldn't be there anymore. He felt like he was dying too, so with absolutely nothing left to lose he stumbled around corners back the way he'd come, looking for an exit, looking for a way to escape this pain. He knew he was crying, he could barely breathe but he couldn't acknowledge it right now. When he found himself back in reception he saw his mother sitting there, with an arm around his brother and sister whose faces were all etched with worry. They should be worried, Miles thought. They had the scum of the earth as a son. Before they caught sight of him Miles practically threw himself back around the corner he'd come from. He didn't desire her comfort for a second. For the first time in years, he wanted his father. He wanted the great Miles Hollingsworth II to tell him exactly how it was. He wanted to hear how badly he'd messed up this time, how this was all his fault, so he could accept responsibility that he'd caused the death of the best person he'd ever met before his body gave in to this grief. He wanted to hear the truth, not neatly wrapped lies to try and make him feel better. He didn't deserve to feel anything but pain.
As he couldn't get out without having to deal with the empty sympathies of his family, Miles forced his numb legs to take the stairs. He headed up, using the bannister to drag himself higher. Every step felt like he was climbing a mountain and he so badly wanted to give up and just collapse there, but something convinced him he had to keep going. He had no strength left, there was a just a pain in his chest that felt like someone was clenching his heart in their hands. None of his injuries hurt anymore, his blood just felt utterly cold. As he reached the last few steps he leant back against the wall of the staircase and wiped furiously at his face that was dripping with tears. He had no right to be crying right now. He tried to close his eyes and get his breathing under control, but the sight of Tristan laid out white, broken and splattered with blood had been burnt into the backs of his eyelids. Immediately his eyes flew back open, unable to bear that vision any longer he hurled himself forward, reaching the door that finally after one hundred and eighty two steps gave him access to the room. He ignored the 'Staff only' and 'Do not enter' signs and pushed the heavy door open as hard as he could, throwing himself into the mercy of the night.
As Miles walked breathless across the roof, the night air was freezing cold and rain was lashing down from the angry sky. As he allowed the water to drench him he was glad. Glad that the world was as devastated as he was that they had lost someone so pure. In those seventeen minutes, the Earth they lived on had become just that little less blessed, a little less beautiful because a soul so magnificent had been cruelly ripped away and everyone deserved to know. Miles felt fresh hot tears drip down his face and mix in with the cold rain that was pelting down on him. All of a sudden as he heard thunder roll and lightning flash down the sky in sharp angles all of his sorrow turned to rage.
He raced to the edge of the rooftop and looked down below him. He could see ambulances stationary, those that weren't out trying and failing to save the god damn lives of loved ones. He could see umbrella's shielding patients and their relatives from the planet's grief at Tristan's death. He wondered for a second how life could even still be carrying on, this felt like the end of the world. He knew though, at the back of his hysterical mind that people died every day and life had to continue without them. What he'd never considered until that very moment though was it wasn't just the dead who were lost, because he was never going to belong here the way he had a few hours ago ever again.
Miles clawed his fingernails against the cold, wet concrete of the raised edge of the roof and pushed his body up until he was stood, faced with a single step that would send him hurtling off the edge of this fragile realm. Controlling his balance he stared up, seeking a God he could scream at as more lightning electrocuted the atmosphere, illuminating the darkness.
'WHY?!' he screamed as loud as he could into the furious night as the rain became impossibly harder. He needed to know the answer. Why not him? Why was Tristan's time here up? Why snatch away someone he loved so much? Just why.
'COME ON? YOU WANT SOMEONE? FUCKING HAVE ME THEN.' He challenged holding his arms out at either side, still believing that perhaps some kind of exchange might be possible. The devil could torment the rest of his days for an eternity if it meant he got Tris back, even for a second. He would do anything if it meant he got to say goodbye.
'HAVE SOME FUCKING MERCY!' He yelled as he let his suffering spill out into the night.
'Please. Just take me instead.' Miles begged in desperation as his voice caught in his throat.
'Give him back to me.' He whispered, hopeless.
The last time he and Tris had been part of a storm like this they had shared one of their most electric moments together. He'd been able to physically feel the flaring connection between them that had eventually become the thrill that he lived for. Tristan's sweet mouth had been so soft and inviting. He was so warm. His heart had raced. Miles' hands had come up to his hips and pushed him backwards against that wall. He'd never lost himself so quickly before. Tristan had been everything he wasn't down in that hospital bed. They had both felt so wired, so alive. Miles had never been able to find that buzz anywhere else, no matter what he done to try and find it without him. Knowing that he'd never be able to feel like that again left his life without purpose.
As he was getting none of the answers he needed from above, Miles looked down instead. Slowly he left his feet shift even closer to the edge. All he needed to do was fall. Then they could be together again. He'd never survive a drop that high. Everything could be over in seconds. He stood there contemplating his fate for minutes. He braced himself, but couldn't quite find the courage to jump. He just couldn't do it, because he was a coward after all. His father had been right. A part of him knew he deserved to suffer, and the other part of him was frightened of where he would go if he did die tonight. What if Tristan wasn't there with him? Two lives would have been lost for no reason and the endless possibilities of something so final scared him too much. He hadn't lived a good enough life to believe if there was an afterlife he would be treated well there. He needed Tris back, he was the only person who could change him. He despised who he was without him.
Giving in, Miles took one last look up into the rain before stepping down off the edge. On getting both feet back on solid ground his legs gave out from under him and he didn't do anything to fight it as he hit the floor. He lay on his side, curled up in a ball and allowed himself to cry as loud as he wanted to, feeling himself break viscerally. The rain smashed down on him, he was ice cold but he couldn't move. He didn't want to move. Time passed and water fell but he stayed there, clinging to himself, accepting the waves of grief every time they hit him. He felt weak and he felt his sore eyes giving in as they kept drifting shut, trying to hide him from the chaos of his trauma. His whole body shut down as the relentless weather didn't lighten its assault. Miles wondered for a second whether he would freeze there, and then realised he didn't care if he did. At least he wouldn't feel anything anymore. This was what life without Tris was like, empty and endless.
With his eyes closed he used the remnants of his energy to push the image of Tris tonight out his head and instead he focused on all the memories with him he'd never be able to forget. He remembered Paris, basketball try-outs, the family dinner, every single kiss, waking up with him, falling asleep beside him, their date night, playing Just Dance, the party at his house and the first time he'd told him he loved him. They'd been through so much and now it was over. That was why when he felt his heart slowing and his breathing weaken, Miles didn't fight. Instead, he started to count.
Miles was at one thousand and twenty seconds when he heard a female voice calling him from somewhere in the distance. Maybe it was an angel? He didn't move, life was too delicate. As the voice grew closer though, he realised who it belonged to.
'MILES! Oh Jesus Christ.' Frankie spoke as she raced over to him, braving the rain. Quickly she unzipped her hoodie and wrapped it around her hypothermic big brother who was still motionless on the rooftop floor.
'Miles wake up!' she urged frantically, shaking him by the shoulders.
'Leave me.' Miles muttered, welcoming the darkness far more than he welcomed life right now.
'Please Miles, please! You need to move!' his little sister pushed, unable to lift him at deadweight.
'Not without Tris.' Miles managed, barely whispering.
'He's alive, Miles. He's alive!' Frankie answered, her revelation was life changing in the most amazing ways. Miles blinked his eyes open at that, those were the only words that gave him the strength to be able to.
He's alive.
One thousand and twenty seconds, or in simpler terms, seventeen minutes.