A rewrite to the boiler room scene! Hope you like it! Make sure to check out my other Heathers stories and leave a review! :)

"May I see your hall pass?" I snapped at him. He stood at the bottom of the steps, digging in his black duffle. I held the gun in my hands a little tighter. Only god fucking knows what's in that thing.

He looked up, and for a split second, I saw it. Love. Compassion. Human feelings. For a very short moment, his eyes lit up and he almost smiled. But it quickly disappeared. He chuckled to himself, "I knew that noose was too loose."

My palms were sweating from the idea of holding a gun again. Last time I did that, I killed someone. I did not want a replay, I only brought it in case he had one so I could seem like an equal.

"Goddam you, woman," he croaked.

"Like father, like son." I glared at him. "A serious-as-fuck bomb in the boiler room to set off a pack of thermals upstairs. Should've at least tried to be original."

He cocked an eyebrow and I took a deep breath.

"Okay," I said slowly, "Let's start by putting the bomb down on the ground." He dropped the bag and I was astonished. It seemed too easy. Nothing was ever easy with JD. "Put your hands on your head."

He grinned coyly. "You didn't say Simon says."

I faltered a moment in confusion. He took this brief second to pin me against the wall. It was scary how fast he did it and how dark his eyes were as he stared into mine. Then suddenly I felt my head collide with something and everything went black.

I staggered back into consciousness what I can assume was about thirty seconds later and peered around the corner. He was taping his little homemade death machine to a pole. I had to get that gun and I had to stop him.

Everything hurt, I still felt dizzy and discombobulated. I soundlessly reached for a fire extinguisher and held it like a baseball bat. I brushed back my sweaty bangs and saw on the timer, 1:43.

Just as I went to hit JD, he turned around. I ended up hitting him pretty hard in the shoulder. I felt kinda bad. I almost collapsed on my knees beside him to help him, but I couldn't. I flashed him an apologetic glance and then used this time to lunge for the gun. He was right behind me and he grabbed me just as my finger touched the gun.

He pinned me to ground and straddled me to keep my arms pinned down. I grunted as I tried to break free. My cheeks were wet with blood, sweat, and tears. He squeezed my shoulders and shoved me against a wall. I was terrified, I thought he was going to kill me.

Suddenly his lips were pressed against mine. I didn't know how to react. For a split second, I started to kiss him back. It was so hard! All I wanted was to have things the way we used to! Slushie dates, climbing through each other's windows, watching movies with his dad's VCR; was that too much to ask?! These two weeks had been hell, but hidden in the fine print was a shred of happiness. Now it was gone.

I tried to throw him off me, but he was too strong. He kissed me again and wouldn't let go. I brought my knee up and kicked that son of a bitch right in his crotch and he doubled over backward. I felt a sort of satisfaction knowing I one-uped him. I scrambled for the gun and seized it. I went to aim for him, just to give him a good scare and to show I meant business, but he crashed through a stack of metal cans and disappeared.

I brushed my hair back and wiped away some blood that was trickling from my lip. I took a step forward, then another, then another. I peered around each corner with the gun in front of me. The eerie light along with the boiler room smoke made me uneasy. Where the fuck was he?! I turned another corner and there he was. He blended in well with the surroundings. Now I understand why pyschos wear black.

I didn't shoot, I stared at him. I stared at him longingly. I didn't want things to end this way. He had a small silver knife in his hand, just waving it around as he spoke. "You think just because you started this thing, you can end it?"

"I'll kill you, I'll fucking kill you!" No, I wouldn't, not for the whole wide world and then some. "How do I turn off the goddamn bomb, asshole?"

"FUCK YOU!" He held out his middle finger proudly.

Now I don't know what it was, a reaction, an instinct, or just plain stupid anger, but I shot that motherfucker. His finger went flying clean off and blood spewed abundantly. I stared at him in shock as he clutched his bleeding hand. I was kind of proud of myself, that was pretty good aim I must say.

"It's all over, JD. Help me stop it!"

I glanced at the red numbers. The time on the bomb: 45 seconds.

His hand was covered in blood, he was groaning in pain and clutched an oil-smeared rag over where his finger once was. I grimaced and he glared at me. "You want to clean the slate as much as I do, right? So maybe I am killing everyone in the school. Because NOBODY LOVES ME!"

I had to stifle a sob. That was the biggest lie he had ever told, and he was quite the deceiver. I don't know how, but I adored him. I loved with all of my heart. How could he say such a thing? Because I broke up with him upon fear of my own death? Leaving him was one of the hardest things I'd ever done. But I know if I spent another second with him someone was gonna die.

He continued his speech, "The only place that different social types can genuinely get along is in heaven."

I was fed up with MLK over here. "Which button do I push to turn it off?!"

"Try the red one, alright!"

I glanced at it. They were all red. That bastard. That fucking psychotic bastard whom I killed three people with, lost my virginity to, and loved more than anything in the world. We had thirty seconds.

He spoke again. "Seriously, people are going to look at the ashes of Westerburg high and think, there's a school that self-destructed, not because society doesn't care. But because that school was society." He wheezed. "Pretty deep, huh?"

No. No, it wasn't. Sorry to sink your ship, Socrates, but you're getting a little old.

"WHICH RED BUTTON?!" I shouted.

He murmured, "Press the middle one to turn it off. If that's what you really want."

I blinked back tears, "You know what I want, Babe?"

"WHAT?!" He stood up and I fired. I just fired in fear. I didn't aim, just pulled the trigger. He fell backward, leaving a bloody handprint on the wall.

"NO!" I screamed. I fell to my knees beside him, pressing the middle button as I fell. "JD, NO! Please!"

I did not want to shoot him again! Blood was pooling on the ground, his white t-shirt had a giant red spot on his side. The blood was strikingly darker than that of his hand. I probably pierced through an organ with that shot. He was wheezing, clutching his side.

"Jason, I am so sorry!" I choked. Tears were streaming freely. "I didn't want to have to hurt you, I swear. You forget that someone does love you. So fucking much."

His eyes were cloudy, he was dying. "Then why…" He couldn't finish his sentence.

"Too much of a good thing?" I tried to bring levity. "No, its because I knew if I was with you any longer more people would end up dying and I couldn't have that. I had to give you up. And it broke my heart, but here we are and it did nothing. Nothing at all."

"I wouldn't say for nothing. Taught me a valuable lesson, Ronnie."

I sobbed. He reached up and touched my face. The thuds off our classmates' stomping was a distant memory. He was the only thing in the entire universe. I turned my face and kissed his palm.

"I love you," we said at the same time. I chuckled a little and he cracked a smile.

"Veronica, don't work too hard in college. You're too smart to get burned out. Stay safe out there, it's a scary world. I'll see you in hell." He rubbed his thumb against my cheek.

"Jason, no. Not yet. You're going to be fine. Everything is going to be just fine. You will make it. Please. You have to." He stared up at me and I bent down and kissed his forehead. "Can you move at all? If I could get you standing, maybe you could hobble to my car and I could drive you to the hospital."

"And how would you explain two gunshot wounds? 'Gee sorry, Doc, we had a bit of an issue in the boiler room?'. I don't think that'll blow over too well."

"But you have to get help, you just have to! I can't lose you, Darling."

"Just lay beside me. I want to hug you one last time."

My lip trembled and I started sobbing again. I curled up next to him as I cried and he put his arms around me. I gazed into his eyes and gently kissed him. When I pulled away, he was gone.

I cried harder. I was in that boiler room for forever, just sobbing my heart out. He was too young to die but too damaged to live. We both were. I couldn't take anymore. I reached for the gun, held it to my head, fired.

I collapsed back next to him. His arm was limply around me. I suppose the universe destined for it to be like this, dying in each other's arms.

Funny how love works.