Chapter 19: Here's To Goodbyes
Sara took a deep breath as she leaned back in her chair and kicked her feet up onto her desk. It was nearly two in the morning and she was exhausted. Constance had provided them with everything that they needed to send Irons up the river for good. Jake was in the Captain's office at the moment handing in their report. Irons was going to be placed in the state prison until his trial could be arranged. Sara kicked her feet off the desk and grabbed her jacket. She was ready to call it a night, but first there was someone that she needed to do. She walked slowly into the holding area and casually strolled down the long hall to the last cell. Irons was lying on the cot and gazing at the cell wall.
He turned towards her, "Ah, Sara. The always surprising Sara." His eyes glittered and a small smile settled on his lips, "I guess that it was inevitable."
Sara leaned on the wall across from his cell, "What was inevitable?" She watched his eyes trace her body from her eyes, gliding down to her wrist where her bracelet sat motionless.
He cocked his head and brought his eyes back up to her eyes, "That the Witchblade would dispose of me eventually. It always does, you know?" His lips curled, "It always disposes of unwanted or unneeded wielders in its time, even you will be disposed of someday." He turned away from her and closed his eyes, "Now leave me." The tone of his voice dripped with defeat, "Allow me this final courtesy privacy. So that I might be punished with dignity."
Sara pushed off of the wall and moved closer to the cell; she wasn't going to let him off so easily. She opened her mouth to speak.
"Please…" He turned his head towards her and continued, "I promise…" Sara stopped and stared at him. Irons took a deep breath, "I promise that when your time comes, and the Witchblade decides to end your existence, you will understand my misery."
Sara watched the man before her who had once been so god-like crumble under the power that he had held on to so tightly. His dream had crushed him. All the words that she had planned to say to him seemed so childish now. What had happened to Irons was not a game. No matter how many terrible things he had done, he was a man condemned by his own greed. Sara looked on him with pity and buried her hurtful words. When she looked up at him again he had dropped his head and was very quiet as Sara looked upon him. In an awful way he was part of her, a piece of the puzzle that made up her existence. She knew that when he was finally gone, his absence would leave a hole in her life. Suddenly she wasn't feeling so well. Sara swallowed the lump in her throat and slid her hand around one of the cold bars of his cage. "Goodbye…" her voice was a whisper, he didn't move.
She turned and walked slowly down the hall and out into the cold morning. Her breath came out in puffs making little clouds in the air. As she straddled her bike, the lump in her throat seemed to cut off the air the flowed into her lungs. She knew deep down that Irons was right, one day the Witchblade would take her life away from her and the thought burned her heart. She needed to get home.
When Sara arrived home her face was wet with tears. She wiped them away and threw her helmet on the coach. Her helmet caused Constance's letter to float onto the floor. Sara walked over to the piece of paper and read it's contents. Her lower lip began to quiver. It can't be. Sara grabbed the envelope and looked for the address, GONE. Tears began streaming down her face, Ian. She rushed into the room and dropped down onto her bed. She recoiled her hand in pain, she looked down at the cause of the pain. A red rose lay at her side. The happenings of the way that she had left Ian in her kitchen came back to her as she gingerly picked up the red rose. The note that was attached to the rose fell in her lap. Sara's heart beat faster as she opened it; she saw the scribbled handwriting. Her breaths became short as she read:
Sara,
I must leave. I hope that you understand. There is still so much that I wished that I could have shared with you. You made me human. My last memory of being human is within the box that lies on your bed. I wish for you to keep it. It was precious to me and I hope that you will understand its significance. I will never forget awakening to you and holding you. But I must say goodbye. It is better for both of us. Use the Witchblade wisely. Please, Lady Sara, believe now and forever more that I love you as I have loved no other. Do not forget me. You are the Lady of my heart.
Ian
P.S. We will always have our dreams…
Sara was shaking when she finished the letter. She picked up the box and opened it slowly. In the bottom lay a small child's toy. It was a little sheriff's gun. A tear fell from her face and splashed upon the shiny plastic toy. Sara cradled the gift in her hands as the Witchblade breathed softly. She laid her head down next to the rose, still holding the gun. She breathed in the aroma of the rose and closed her eyes, "I will always love you, Ian…" Exhaustion overtook her and she fell into a deep sleep. A smile spread across her face as the Witchblade breathed and glowed on her wrist. The rose began to bloom.
The End
(or is it?)
