Note: Right, so I had a bit of a writer's block while writing this chapter and I'm not overly pleased with it but I wanted to post something because I felt mean making you guys wait so long for updates XD. Also, I know that this doesn't exactly follow the "normal" layout of a story. But it isn't supposed to. I have sort of written it from Alex's POV and, as you can imagine, he isn't exactly thinking coherently. I also wanted to show Mrs Jones' more human side because she is often portrayed as a heartless monster in fanfic hahaha. Finally, HAPPY HALLOWEEN to anyone who celebrates it! (Yes, I am aware that Halloween was yesterday but I was planning to post this chapter yesterday and….yeah. I hope everyone had a good night nevertheless.)
Alex falls to his knees, staring into the cold, lifeless face of Julius Grief.
His face.
He shot his face.
He shot himself.
He- he-
There's a bleeding hole right between Julius's eyes.
A bullet wound.
He has just killed someone.
Of course, he's killed before but this was- it wasn't- It couldn't have been more different. He has just murdered someone in cold blood.
In a blind state of panic, Alex crawls along the sand so that he is leaning over the dead boy.
There's blood everywhere and- and- eyes that are so empty. He feels sick.
Suddenly, he becomes aware of a cold, hard object and looks at his hand. The gun. He's still holding it.
Barely registering what he is doing, he slowly raises his hand so the barrel of the gun is resting against his temple. He has already shot his mirror image. How different could it be to shoot the real thing?
No, no, this was madness! Of course he wasn't going to commit suicide! What was he thinking?!
But his hand didn't seem to be obeying him. He hadn't moved the gun. The cold, unforgiving metal was still resting against the side of his head, as if longing to send a bullet into his brain.
No! He wouldn't do this, no matter how much he wanted to.
But what do you have left to live for?
He tries desperately to ignore the little voice in his head but it's becoming harder with every second that passes.
Jack's dead now.
She was all you had.
You're alone.
They're all dead.
And you're a killer.
It was true. He had no one left.
Slowly, he curls his finger around the trigger. The knowledge that the smallest twitch of a finger could take a life instantly both fascinates and horrifies him.
He isn't entirely sure why he is choosing today to do it. The thoughts have been lingering at the back of his mind for a while now and he supposes this had just pushed him over the edge.
He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and…..Suddenly, someone is by his side, trying to pull the gun from his grasp, talking to him in a soothing voice, trying to get him to move.
But all he can do is stare and hate and suffer and know that he doesn't deserve to live. Doesn't want to live.
"Drop the gun, Alex. Everything's going to be fine. It's all going to be alright."
Yeah right. Alex thinks. I've heard that before. And people lie. All the time. It's all they ever do.
"Please, Alex! Give me the gun, it's going to be okay."
He knows that voice. Mrs Jones.
What is she doing here?
Why does it matter? She's never done anything to help him. She probably couldn't care less whether he lives or dies.
He pushes her away, trying desperately to regain control of the gun. She fights back, until they are almost wrestling. "Alex, let go!" There's something close to desperation in her voice.
Good. He thinks. Let her suffer for once.
"ALEX!" She raises her voice and turns Alex's chin so that he is forced to look into her eyes. "Listen to me!"
He shakes his head, unintentionally seeing Julius's body out of the corner of his eye.
She turns his head away. "Don't look at him, Alex." She lowers her voice and looks into his eyes imploringly. "I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but you did the right thing. He wasn't a nice person."
"No!" He speaks for the first time, his voice cracking slightly. "How can you say that? How can you truly believe that KILLING someone is ever the right thing to do?"
She doesn't answer. Alex's brief moment of distraction was all she needed to pull the gun from his hand. She throws it, a distant thud is heard as it lands in the sand, far away.
There is a silence as they stare into each other's eyes, brown and blue* locked in an unwavering gaze, both pairs determined for two very different reasons.
Before he has a chance to say or do anything, she grips his arm tightly and helps him stand up, saying meaningless things like, "I'm going to take you back to London and we can sort everything out there." and, "Everything's going to be fine. Just breathe with me, okay?"
But nothing she's saying is true. Everything isn't okay.
Alex is scared and tired, and he is a killer. And that was why nothing was okay. And why nothing ever could be.
*For some reason I decided that I wanted her eyes to be blue in this fic. I'm not entirely sure what her eye colour is in canon but I went with blue for this. Don't ask me why because I don't know :)