Part Two, Chapter 21: All Roads Lead to--
And the sun sets in the sky
You're the apple of my eye
If the bomb goes off again
In my brain or on the train
I hope that I'm with you
'Cos I wouldn't know what to do
It means nothing
-It Means Nothing by Stereophonics
He is dead, blood all over the room, big, beautiful eyes staring without anything behind it.
This is the aftermath. The lights dim, people move slowly, and the characters have reached that point wherein they know there is no real healing from this, no 'time heals all wounds'. They all know that from this point on, things will be different.
I'm sorry to tell you that some parts of this bit will be told by various people, because this is what happens when your heroine suddenly suffers what seems to be some sort of mental breakdown. Anyone suffering from a mental breakdown, as it happens, will tend to have certain lapses.
As these things go, when her train of thought suddenly stops, we will rely on the other characters to pick it up.
To illustrate, the first part will be told by:
The heroine herself, before she stopped functioning properly—
There is nothing to tell, really. All I can do is try to remember.
Beep. Beep.
I'm beginning to hate hospitals. I have no fond memories that include being in one, and that infernal beeping makes me want to stuff wads of cotton in my ears just to make it stop.
He comes up and sits beside me but I don't acknowledge him.
"You need to eat something," he tells me quietly. "Kate, please. You can't do this to yourself."
I look at my hands, pasty under the harsh lights.
Then he tries to put his arm around me and at first I resist, but then the hard muscles, the familiarity of it, I can't help but let him hold me.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he murmurs into my hair. "He'll be okay, you'll see."
"Don't talk." I reply. "Please just be quiet now, you don't know what this is doing to me."
I've hurt him, that much I can tell by his silence. But he still continues to hold me, to stroke my hair.
"Want me to go?" He whispers after a while.
"No." I say, looking at the sleeping man. "Never ever."
The words escape my mouth before I can even process it. I cringe, remembering when it was said by another. Never ever, never ever, like a maniacal lullaby. Yet I think it's the only fitting reply. Don't go. People are always leaving.
Then we remain quiet, and eventually he adjusts his body so I would be more comfortable leaning against him. This is what he's always done.
"You know, you have to take care of yourself too." He kisses my forehead, our separation sidelined "I'm serious, Kathryn. I know how you can get."
Beep. Beep.
Fucking hospital.
My fingers grasp his sleeve, tightening and tightening.
"Sebastian." I say.
Our eyes focus on the sleeping man again. Silence reigns.
Beep fucking beep.
--
Sometimes I think we're thinking about the same thing, me and Kathryn. Sebastian here, by the way, in case you were wondering.
But then I guess that's what you do when you generally go through hell. You just try to remember when things weren't like this, when your on/off girlfriend hasn't been reduced to a zombie and you can't do anything to help her. The fucked up part?
I'm not even sure I still love her. Not anymore. Not like before.
So I try to remember the instances when I did.
Like before I left, when I was thinking about the ring. She was getting so distant, and she was going to places I had no idea about. Off meeting someone? I didn't know. I didn't ask. There's something about loving a person that renders you stupid and scared. So sue me. I was scared to lose her.
Before I left, I went to her place. I guess I can only take so much. When we were related, I thought about what it would be like with her. The sex, of course, would be fantastic, but contrary to what you believe in, my life is not led by my dick. I thought about other things, too. Like how things would play out for us.
Here's a reality check.
You never know what you're going to get. You can love someone for years and then one day something happens and you can't find it in yourself to see that person the way you used to. So even if it's Kathryn, it's just how it goes. Nobody's really exempted from that rule.
Do I want to leave her after this? After everybody heals?
I don't know.
Beep. Beep.
Sometimes I think if she just bends a little more, she will snap. And despite everything, despite all the fucking doubts, I can't let that happen to her. So I'll stay, no matter how long it takes.
But I don't know where to go from there.
Here is what happened that made everybody stop functioning.
Kathryn and I were separated. So consumed was I in finding that sick murderer that when I found him, I began following him. It sickened me to think that she had been meeting with this man. Did they fuck? Did he make her come with his murderous hands? Did he kiss her, put his tongue in her mouth and did she moan his name louder than she did mine? Did she even think of me? Was there ever really something between us, the way she claimed there was? Was that 'I love you' nothing more than a pathetic attempt to keep from losing? From getting dumped and rejected? You see, with her, there are too many questions. With her, I never really know. I used to find it exciting. Now it just tired me.
That day, he was at his sister's house. And then Kathryn came too, I had been outside when I saw her get out of her car. And goddamn my fucking heart. It thumped and bled, because prior to that, I hadn't seen her. She looked pale and tense, and I knew there was something wrong. Don't ask me how I knew exactly. I may not know what she's thinking all the time but if you've lived with her for as long as I have, you tend to know these things. I used to be able to tell when she's taken too much coke.
These prickling things at the back of my neck, instinct, you can call it, it just confirmed this feeling I had. There was something wrong. I wanted to run over there, to grab her and tell her to stop, but I didn't. Don't ask me why I didn't. Pride, maybe. And looking back on it, I realize how stupid that sounds. But then again, that's reality for you.
She was inside about ten minutes. By this time my nerves were already burnt. There was something wrong. Was that a shot? Goddamn it, was that a fucking shot? No? No. I crept closer. Things breaking, that's all. I would have ignored it otherwise, but not when Kathryn was inside, goddamn it. Not with her inside.
So I went in. Voices. Someone was crying and it wasn't Kathryn.
I ventured into the living room, the area of the wreckage. Conner's face was bleeding and Elle was screaming and Ian was screaming back, waving a gun around. And Kathryn was there, too. She seemed like she was frozen, petrified. Her mouth formed a small O and she was looking at Conner, who was barely conscious.
Then she saw me, and her eyes just widened a little bit more. She shook her head slightly, No. Stay back.
"You should have taken him away from her like you promised." Ian turned to her, rubbing the gun against his jaw. "We had a deal, remember? Remember, Kathryn? I thought we were friends."
Conner moaned, is there still even a face underneath all that blood? Elle stroked his hair, her features held a quiet fury that was beyond sanity.
"Ian." She barked, gritting her teeth. "Get the fuck out of my house."
"Or what?" He yelled. "We're through! You don't have any more control over me! You made sure of that!"
"Put the gun down and we'll talk," she whispered, changing her tactic. "Come on, you don't want to hurt Conner, right? You know it would kill me."
"No, it won't," he replied. "Because you said that the only thing that would really kill you is if I died, remember? You said it, Elle. You said it."
Two loud shots. Explosions that changed everyone's life. Kathryn screamed, then she started sobbing, like someone just turned on a switch inside her. Rationality left me, because she looked like she couldn't breathe. I ran to her like I always did, our fight forgotten. The siblings didn't even notice me. She latched on to me, crying against my shirt, her little body shaking so much.
Then Ian turned to me. Elle looked monstrous, inhuman, her eyes seemed bluer than anything I had ever seen.
"Ian," her voice trembled with barely concealed rage. Her hands were shaking. Conner wasn't moving.
When Ian looked at me, it was like looking into nothing. Just a void. It chilled me, despite how angry I was with him, his stare cemented my position. He didn't seem surprised to see me.
"You're lucky," He told me, glancing at Kathryn. "Take care of that. Things rarely ever stay the same."
And then Kathryn buried her face in my neck. I held on tightly. I closed my eyes.
"I'm going to kill you." Elle hissed.
Ian whispered something.
And then Elle started begging.
One more shot.
Everything was over.
"You're lucky," I told Sebastian, filled with disdain and admiration and envy because of what he had. "Take care of that. Things rarely ever stay the same."
He frowned, confused. But he'd understand soon, he'd know what I was talking about.
"I'm going to kill you." My sister hissed, and even now, even now that she hates me, I still tremble at the sound of her voice.
"I wish things had been different." I pointed the gun at her and she stared at me. My love, my only love.
"Without you, I'll die." I whispered. "Remember what I said? Never ever and always and always."
She opened her mouth. So did I.
I put the gun in my mouth. It felt cold. Maybe like Keiko's mouth turned into steel, like our big sister was giving me a kiss.
Oh, the look on Elle's face now! The anger was gone, in its place was fear, real, real fear like that day Keiko died.
"No," she cried out. "Please, Ian, don't."
I tried to smile but I couldn't. I froze the image I had of her, blue eyes dripping with tears. I was filled with so much regret it hurt more than she could have ever hurt me.
"Ian," she whispered, tears dripping immaculately down her cheeks.
Click. Mental picture taken, the only image I would ever carry with me.
Darkness loomed.
"Without you, I'll die." He told me, handsome face filled with so much sadness that it melted my anger. "Remember what I said? Never ever and always and always."
I was about to retort when he placed the gun inside his mouth. The mere sight of it sickened me, I had never realized how much he looked like Keiko until now. Flashes went into my head. Haywire. Aaron-Ian and Anna-Elle and Mexico-New York.
Everything's gone too far, please not him not little brother Ian my only family he doesn't know he doesn't know how much just how much—
"No," my pride was gone. "Please, Ian, don't."
He was almost close now, just one touch, I knew it, if I could just touch him, he'd put it down. If I could just make it go away, if he would just let me do it, just come closer and make him understand that—
He blinked. His eyes were glassy, no longer his. I was looking at Keiko now.
"Ian," I said softly, the tears felt strange and warm on my face.
An explosion. Blood and brains all over the wall.
And then, I saw nothing else.
"Ian," Elle said.
I saw everything as if it was a dream. My entire body hurt like hell, I could barely see through all the blood. Sebastian was holding Kathryn and I was relieved because of that. Elle was talking to her brother, I think it was only now that I realized how much she really loved him.
My fingers twitched, trying to hold her hand. But she stepped towards him, determined and frightened.
He pulled the trigger. There was blood everywhere, and Elle, beautiful sad Elle.
It was like the soul had been sucked out of her.
At this point, the pain overcame me.
I slept.
I hope she's okay.
"Do you need anything?" Sebastian's voice wakes me. My mouth feels dry, my stomach empty.
"No," I sit up, rubbing my eyes. "How's Elle?"
He looks down. "She hasn't spoken yet."
"It's been five days."
He nods. "I know."
We both look at Conner.
"He's so thin," I say. "Do you think that maybe they're not doing it right? That he needs more—"
"They're doing their work properly," he interrupts me. "You need to get some rest."
"I know." I played with the hem of my dress. "We haven't talked about…"
"Yeah," he replies. "It can wait after things get better."
"Will it?" I look at him. He holds my stare.
"Kathryn," he sighs.
"Will it?"
He doesn't reply.
"You can't stay here and do this to me if it won't. Don't make me depend on you again if you're going to leave."
He sits down next to me.
"You can't honestly tell me that things haven't changed." He tells me quietly. "Things don't turn out the way they should sometimes."
"Are you going to leave?"
He shakes his head. "Of course not, you still need me."
I curl up against him until we are snug against the couch. He strokes my hair the way he usually does, until I'm drowsy again. I sleep better when he does that, somehow his breathing drowns out the beeping too.
I look at him. His eyelids are beginning to droop.
"Sebastian,"
"Hmm," he says.
"I would have said yes."
"I know," he whispers back.
Silence.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Sebastian,"
"Hmm,"
"I still love you."
Silence.
He kisses my forehead. "It's not the same anymore, is it?"
A long pause.
"No," I reply. "No, it's not."
Sebastian has convinced me to go get something to eat. As we head back to Conner's room, I notice Elle walking past the nurses. She walks differently now. Slow, hesitant. Like a little girl. Her eyes, while they still have their arresting color, now seem vacant.
Through the glass window I see her stare at him. Sebastian and I watch her.
She strokes his jaw, kisses his dry lips. She climbs into bed with him, curling up. She takes his undamaged arm to wrap around her.
She whispers something in his ear.
And then—
Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeeep.
Doctors and nurses rush in. She doesn't seem bothered until they try to get her to leave the bed. Only then does she kick and scream, her fists clench and hit, her eyes burn as though she has a fever. It takes a lot of male orderlies to restrain her. My heart drops and Sebastian is there, like always, even though I know that maybe he doesn't like me as much as he used to. He's made that pretty clear, and strangely enough, it doesn't really feel nearly as painful as seven years ago, when he left.
They do everything they can. And Elle, she's just crying. Even though I hate her for the part she played in this, right now, I feel nothing but pity for her.
Somehow I know that it was going to happen. So many things are happening.
Time of death, 11:45 pm.
Elle walks out of the room. I never see her again.
