Chapter Eleven
Sam stood in Curt's apartment, confused. Arthur was alive, the article turned in and being typeset, and the two men were surely on the track to a healthy relationship. So why hadn't he leapt yet?
As if reading his thoughts, Al appeared. Sam looked at him questioningly. "So?"
"So the last readings we got were positive. No more assassins, a long career for Arthur with a lot of respect in the industry."
"So why am I still here, Al? The article is coming out in the morning, Arthur's still alive… I don't understand."
Al shrugged. "Ziggy's malfunctioning. She's been spitting out everything from cookie recipes to sex advice today… But nothing useful. Just hold on a bit, Sam, I'm sure we'll figure it out."
Just as Al finished, Arthur walked into the room. The poor kid looked thrashed, Sam realized. He'd had a hard few days. "We're you talking to someone?"
"Phone," Sam covered quickly. "Pizza."
Arthur smiled. "Sounds like heaven right about now."
"Yeah," Sam replied absently, trying to figure out how to order pizza without Arthur knowing.
"Look, Curt…" Arthur swallowed.
Before he could continue, there was a knock at the door. Sam hid a relieved sigh. He really didn't want to have any relationship discussions with another man's boyfriend-to-be. Sam answered the door quickly.
It was Mandy, bearing the promised pizza and a bottle of wine. "Are you alright? I think everyone heard about the 'attempt'," she said dramatically, but behind the made-up eyes, there was genuine concern.
Sam smiled. "I'm fine. Arthur's fine. Right?" he asked the journalist.
Arthur nodded, then motioned to the pizza. "Combination, extra anchovies?"
Mandy grinned. "You are a man after my own heart, Arthur Stuart!"
*
The next day, Sam and Arthur walked slowly to the Herald, ready to get the first edition of the paper. Arthur's story was proudly displayed on the front page, and there was already an angry crowd gathering, enraged with the fake at the news. Arthur and Sam shared a smile, but Sam couldn't help thinking that Curt should be the one to share this moment with Arthur. After all, Arthur obviously cared about him.
He was standing away from the crowd when Al appeared, looking more than mildly alarmed. "Sam! Tommy Stone!" he cried, motioning.
Sam turned his head, and saw him, Tommy Stone, yelling frantically, running up the Herald's steps. He cradled a gun in his right hand as he moved toward the crowd. Toward Arthur.
"Arthur!" Sam yelled and launched himself at the younger man.
He was close enough to push him away. Sam was thankful for that. But he couldn't stop Tommy from shooting.
The bullet hit him with amazing force, slamming into his rib cage. Sam fell to the ground, eyes wide. He heard Arthur cry out, and then felt warm arms around him. Arthur's arms, he guessed.
Through dimming eyes, he saw the policeman grab the gun from Tommy- Brian- who was standing still, in utter shock. As the gun left Tommy's pale hands, Sam felt a familiar feeling. He was leaping. He left Curt's body just as the pain was overwhelming him, on to change another destiny.
*
Arthur cradled Curt's head in his lap, his tears falling freely now. He kissed the older man's cheeks, his forehead, his lips… He didn't care who saw, didn't care if some old lady was scandalized. The only man he'd ever loved was dying in his arms… Dying because he'd saved *him*.
"Arthur…" Curt whispered, reaching a weak hand to his face. His calloused thumb caressed his lower lip. "I didn't forget."
Arthur seized what he knew to be his last chance. "I love you," he breathed.
A little smile lit Curt's paling face. "Me too…" was all he had the strength to say before a sigh escaped his lips and he went limp in Arthur's arms.
A cry tore itself from Arthur's throat; he gripped Curt's shirt, needing him to come back, needing to see his stormy eyes lit with anger or passion one more time. He felt gentle, but strong, hands pulling him from Curt's side; he fought them, not ready to let go.
A gut-wrenching sob tore from Arthur as they lifted Curt's lifeless body. He would never be ready to let go.
He didn't know how long he merely sat on the ground, rocking slowly. Long enough for Curt's body to be taken away. There was still a crowd of onlookers, but no one had the courage to approach the young man. Until Lou finally moved his way.
"Arthur," Lou began slowly.
Arthur looked up, but not at his boss. He looked beyond him, where a piece of metal was glinting in the sunlight. Immediately, Arthur uncurled himself from the tight ball he'd been sitting in, and scrambled for the object.
He scooped the pin up with loving hands, turning it over, marveling at the glow of the green stone. *A freedom you can allow yourself,* he thought.
"Or not," he finished aloud, and Arthur Stuart began to cry.
Sam stood in Curt's apartment, confused. Arthur was alive, the article turned in and being typeset, and the two men were surely on the track to a healthy relationship. So why hadn't he leapt yet?
As if reading his thoughts, Al appeared. Sam looked at him questioningly. "So?"
"So the last readings we got were positive. No more assassins, a long career for Arthur with a lot of respect in the industry."
"So why am I still here, Al? The article is coming out in the morning, Arthur's still alive… I don't understand."
Al shrugged. "Ziggy's malfunctioning. She's been spitting out everything from cookie recipes to sex advice today… But nothing useful. Just hold on a bit, Sam, I'm sure we'll figure it out."
Just as Al finished, Arthur walked into the room. The poor kid looked thrashed, Sam realized. He'd had a hard few days. "We're you talking to someone?"
"Phone," Sam covered quickly. "Pizza."
Arthur smiled. "Sounds like heaven right about now."
"Yeah," Sam replied absently, trying to figure out how to order pizza without Arthur knowing.
"Look, Curt…" Arthur swallowed.
Before he could continue, there was a knock at the door. Sam hid a relieved sigh. He really didn't want to have any relationship discussions with another man's boyfriend-to-be. Sam answered the door quickly.
It was Mandy, bearing the promised pizza and a bottle of wine. "Are you alright? I think everyone heard about the 'attempt'," she said dramatically, but behind the made-up eyes, there was genuine concern.
Sam smiled. "I'm fine. Arthur's fine. Right?" he asked the journalist.
Arthur nodded, then motioned to the pizza. "Combination, extra anchovies?"
Mandy grinned. "You are a man after my own heart, Arthur Stuart!"
*
The next day, Sam and Arthur walked slowly to the Herald, ready to get the first edition of the paper. Arthur's story was proudly displayed on the front page, and there was already an angry crowd gathering, enraged with the fake at the news. Arthur and Sam shared a smile, but Sam couldn't help thinking that Curt should be the one to share this moment with Arthur. After all, Arthur obviously cared about him.
He was standing away from the crowd when Al appeared, looking more than mildly alarmed. "Sam! Tommy Stone!" he cried, motioning.
Sam turned his head, and saw him, Tommy Stone, yelling frantically, running up the Herald's steps. He cradled a gun in his right hand as he moved toward the crowd. Toward Arthur.
"Arthur!" Sam yelled and launched himself at the younger man.
He was close enough to push him away. Sam was thankful for that. But he couldn't stop Tommy from shooting.
The bullet hit him with amazing force, slamming into his rib cage. Sam fell to the ground, eyes wide. He heard Arthur cry out, and then felt warm arms around him. Arthur's arms, he guessed.
Through dimming eyes, he saw the policeman grab the gun from Tommy- Brian- who was standing still, in utter shock. As the gun left Tommy's pale hands, Sam felt a familiar feeling. He was leaping. He left Curt's body just as the pain was overwhelming him, on to change another destiny.
*
Arthur cradled Curt's head in his lap, his tears falling freely now. He kissed the older man's cheeks, his forehead, his lips… He didn't care who saw, didn't care if some old lady was scandalized. The only man he'd ever loved was dying in his arms… Dying because he'd saved *him*.
"Arthur…" Curt whispered, reaching a weak hand to his face. His calloused thumb caressed his lower lip. "I didn't forget."
Arthur seized what he knew to be his last chance. "I love you," he breathed.
A little smile lit Curt's paling face. "Me too…" was all he had the strength to say before a sigh escaped his lips and he went limp in Arthur's arms.
A cry tore itself from Arthur's throat; he gripped Curt's shirt, needing him to come back, needing to see his stormy eyes lit with anger or passion one more time. He felt gentle, but strong, hands pulling him from Curt's side; he fought them, not ready to let go.
A gut-wrenching sob tore from Arthur as they lifted Curt's lifeless body. He would never be ready to let go.
He didn't know how long he merely sat on the ground, rocking slowly. Long enough for Curt's body to be taken away. There was still a crowd of onlookers, but no one had the courage to approach the young man. Until Lou finally moved his way.
"Arthur," Lou began slowly.
Arthur looked up, but not at his boss. He looked beyond him, where a piece of metal was glinting in the sunlight. Immediately, Arthur uncurled himself from the tight ball he'd been sitting in, and scrambled for the object.
He scooped the pin up with loving hands, turning it over, marveling at the glow of the green stone. *A freedom you can allow yourself,* he thought.
"Or not," he finished aloud, and Arthur Stuart began to cry.