Okay, here's another one of those back and forth chapters.
"Mothers and Daughters" John Mayer
"It's My Life" Bon Jovi
"Songbird" Fleetwood Mac
She sat at the edge of the bed and just waited for them to tell her that everything was okay. The sun had already risen in the sky and the light was beginning to pour into the small little bedroom of her youth. Isabelle had chosen to ignore the bustling agents going about her house or the medics running to and from the house. She had even managed to ignore the unfamiliar woman standing in the center of it all, shouting directions and giving an account on what happened. She had collapsed into the large overstuffed chair in the corner and pulled her feet up under her. Her eyes fluttered from exhaustion that she didn't even realize how tired she was on.
"Mommy?" A little voice appeared from the doorway, the cool air flapping the yellow night gown on her little body.
Her eyes opened and she faked a smile, "Hey sweetheart."
"Mommy, what's going on? There's so many people!" She exclaimed letting her hands fall at her side. Her frail little frame stood strong against the cool breeze that swept through the house.
She loved how naïve her daughter was. "Come here, sweetie." She opened her arms to welcome her daughter into them. The little girl curled up tightly in her mother's lap and found a little crook underneath her chin. Her warm body heat soon started to heat the mother's cold center. "Things are going to be crazy today. So, I need you to be extra good today, okay? I promise, as soon as everything calms down, we're gonna go and I'll buy you something at the toy shop in town." She cooed softly, not know whether she really spoke for her daughter or herself. Maisie played with Isabelle's long fingertips, letting rise and fall with her touch.
On behalf of every man, looking out for every girl
You are the god, and you are the weight of the world
"What's wrong with Tante Claire? And Oncle and Tante Sydney? Why are they still sleeping?" Maisie spoke rather loudly.
"Shh. Shh. Tante Claire is sleeping." Isabelle held her finger up to her lips and tried to silence her. Her little girl could be so loud sometimes! She didn't want her daughter waking the entire house or making a ruckus.
"Oh. Okay." The little girl immediately hushed her voice and let her eyes grow wide. "Why is everyone so scared?" She puckered her lips slightly and waited for an answer.
They didn't see a woman standing near the doorway, the tears brimming over in her eyes. She was frightened and unsure whether she should hazard entering the room. She knew exactly what this scene meant and this was the first time in five years that she could see it. Finally, she gathered enough courage to enter, "Isabelle?" She spoke softly and started to pray that she would recognize her voice.
Isabelle glanced up from her daughter and starred at the woman, who she obviously didn't recognize right away. "Yes?"
Jeanette cleared her throat uncomfortably and continued into the room, taking note of the sleeping Claire. "How are you doing?"
"I'm fine. Well, I'm good as I can be expected, I suppose." Isabelle tripped over her words as she started to bounce her daughter up and down on her knees, kissing her ear softly.
Jeanette came closer and knelt down in front of the chair and touched Maisie's foot lovingly, "Is this Maisie?"
The color drained out of her face and Isabelle felt her mouth go dry. She couldn't think. She couldn't breath. She couldn't move. She recognized that voice. "Jeanie?" Her French accent slurred the "J" but the disbelief was still evident. "You're-you're suppose to be dead." She looked like she had just seen a ghost and to some degree, she had. "I don't understand." She pulled her daughter closer to her body. It was her security blanket as she started to shake beneath the light weight of another woman's daughter.
"Mommy?" Maisie looked at the woman and back to her mother with puzzled eyes.
"Are you Maisie?" Jeanette spoke softly, unable to utter anything more than a whisper.
Maisie was never one to be shy and loved the limelight more than anything else in the world, "Yes, silly. Who are you?"
"I'm Jeanette. I'm a good friend of your uncle." Jeanette lied, feeling the tears well up in her eyes.
Isabelle felt her throat close up and go absolutely dry. There was a sudden surge of emotions and she felt like her brain had gone numb. She reached the maximum capacity for taking things in and she couldn't do it anymore....even if she really tried. "I really don't understand. You're suppose to be dead." Her words dripped with venom and soaked with hatred.
She straightened up slightly, reaching out for Maisie's hand. "I know."
@@@@@@@@
"So you want to tell me how long you've been an agent?" A senior agent queried as he sat near the bed. He had taken residence at the head of her bed, in a hard wooden chair. His brow was wrinkles and his suit freshly wrinkled from the long flight for LA. He was tired there was no doubt about that and he could think of more enjoyable things to do with his time than to sit with a reckless agent who nearly got herself killed by being careless with her double status. She had approached death's door and all through the night, the medics worked reverently on bringing her back from her state. But the CIA was anxious to see her and hear her side of the story.
She was propped up with some pillows with an IV dripping steadily from her arm. Her face was swollen and coated with deep bruises. Her lip was swollen and her jaw ached with the sucker punches that were thrown at her face. She had three fractured ribs, a broken ankle and severe lacerations across random parts of her body. "For some time." Her voice uttered coldly. She was broken beyond belief and she was tough now. Like Sydney was when she was being tortured in Taipei...before she joined the CIA.
This ain't a song for the broken-hearted
No silent prayer for the faith-departed
I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd
You're gonna hear my voice
When I shout it out loud
"That's not a good answer, Agent Vaughn." Agent Eades pressed further, crossing his tired arms over his chest.
"Well, it's going to have to do for now, Agent.?"
"Agent Eades, Agent Vaughn."
"Well, Agent Eades. It's' my life and I have to live with the decisions I've made. It's really okay. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."
It's my life
It's now or never
I ain't gonna live forever
I just want to live while I'm alive
(It's my life)
My heart is like an open highway
Like Frankie said
I did it my way
I just wanna live while I'm alive
It's my life
"Like hell you will. You almost got yourself killed-"
"Get my superiors on the phone. You want to talk to Tom Quinn." She hissed and started to lower her body down to get a little more comfortable and possibly sleep. "And maybe when you're finished, you can wake me and tell me what Thames House has to say about my situation. Until then, get the hell out of here. I'm beaten, bruised, and tired. Get the hell out."
"Not before I ask you some questions."
"What is this? My CIA debriefing? C'mon! Even my agency has the decency to let an agent heal over a bit before they debrief them! Give me a chance to get myself together. I won't answer any questions." She snapped and scowled.
"I'm not leaving for I ask you these questions." He snapped back. His temper matched hers.
Claire had snuggled down and was now lying flat against the mattress with her head propped up on a pillow. The pain medication was beginning to run thin and her breath started to run raged against her dry mouth. "Go for it."
He nodded his head in agreement and pulled out a tape recorder. "Please state your name for the record."
"Claire Larissa Vaughn. V-A-U-G-H-N"
"Please state your classification and identification."
"I am a field agent, identification 39R-30438-29482."
"Who do you work for?"
"I am an agent for MI5. Then, I was recruited to work for another rogue organization, The Triad."
"And the name of this new leader?"
"Sark. Stephan Sark."
"Please explain the recruitment."
"Mr. Sark recruited me into his organization after Samuel-"
"Samuel?"
"Samuel Hartfiled, an agent that I had become involved with."
This was the answer he was waiting for. She would be a perfect an example to make on a global scale. This was the reason why agents should not be involve with each other. "Involved with?
She sighed heavily and felt the weight of her left ring. "We were romantically involved." She quickly admitted before looking away and concentrating on the small paint chip on the opposite wall.
He nodded with the answer, "Describe the nature of your relationship."
"What?" Claire snapped.
"Where you intimate with Mr. Hartfield?"
She was completely insulted by the nature of these questions, "I don't' see how that is relevant to any of this."
"I do. I'll ask you once more-were you intimate with Mr. Hartfield?"
Broken beyond repair, she managed to gasp, "Yes."
"How well did you know Mr. Hartfield? Did you trust him?"
"In my line of work, there is no such thing as trust."
Another force came into the room, his arms out of frustration, "What's going on here?" His normally weak sounding voice barked. "I told you you're not to interrogate her until we're back in the states or we hear from the agent's superiors! Do you understand me? Get out before I call the office and tell them you breached protocol." He moved into the room and glared at Agent Eaves until he moved.
"Yes, sir." The older agent stood up and backed out of the room, taking the tape recorder with him.
"Wait!" Weiss barked once more. He held out his hand impatiently for the tape recorder. The agent obeyed and like a meek puppy, he placed the tape recorder in his open palm. Deliberately, Weiss opened the tape deck, removed the tape and threw it on the floor, smashing it beneath his feet. "You may go."
"Why did you do that?" Claire scoffed, sinking deeper into the fluffy blankets.
"Because you were admitting things you shouldn't have to. No one needs to know about your relationships."
@@@@
"How are you feeling, baby?" Sydney was curled up in a large blanket at the head of Vaughn's bed. Her hands gently ran along his hair and she smiled slightly, her eyes covered with bruises. She was in debt to one of the agents, she didn't know his name. He had carried her from her bedroom to Vaughn's and let her reside for a while, with her IV still flowing steadily to her vein.
His eyes were open and he was rather coherent. He was lying flat on his back in the bed with an IV dripping down into his veins. A chest tube had been inserted into his lungs to drain out some of the fluid surrounding the tumor. There was a lot of problems with his cancer at that moment but he didn't feel it necessary to worry her anymore. "I'm okay." He lied. His face was badly broken and bruised and each breath hurt more than the last.
Silent tears started to course down Sydney' face. Her body ached so badly with the chemicals that had been pumped through her veins. It ached to be. Weiss had carried her from her room to Vaughn's because of her insisting to see him again. She was never one to sit and be good. "Liar."
Vaughn smiled softly and moved to reach to touch her face. "What did they do to you?" The smile disappeared from his face.
"Nothing a little make-up can't fix up." She curled her body closer and rested her head on her knees. She had been changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and her hair had been combed out of her face by a charming Isabelle.
"What did the doctor say about you?" Vaughn queried, moving his neck slightly to get the crick out.
"Compared to what I could have, I got out very lucky. A fractured cheekbone and enough chemicals going through me to blow up a small country." She acknowledged her arms set in the white gauze "And you?"
"My chest is bugging me a little bit...."He sighed, his breath hitching slightly in his weakening chest, "From all the bruising and the fractured rib and everything else..." His voice trailed off as he met her eyes. He couldn't bear to think of telling her what the doctor was thinking. That he thought that the tumor had grown in size but they would have to wait to get on the plane to do the ultrasound.
Sydney uncurled herself and lay beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. She pulled her arms around him and sank into the depths of her body. She didn't know where to go now. She didn't know what to think.
For you there'll be no more crying
For you the sun will be shining
And I feel that when I'm with you
It's alright
I know that's right
"So the pain. Does that mean anything? I mean, from past experience?" She asked, feeling her voice raspy against the back of her throat.
He sighed heavily and licked his lips, feeling the chap feeling take over. "That's a really good question." He joked slightly, laughing lightly at his own inability to answer this question.
"Seriously."
"Okay, okay. Seriously, I don't know."
"Then what DO you know?" She asked, feeling a little snippy in her own response but couldn't help this total indecisiveness.
"Well, I know that we'll head back to the states in a few days and then, I'll move into a hotel or find an apartment or something-"
"You'll move back in with me." Sydney replied sharply. "Shiva will be happy to see you."
He smiled again, feeling his eyes feel heavy from exhaustion. "Shiva will be happy to see me. I haven't thought about her in a while."
She laughed lightly and smiled, "Yea and after you move back with me?
"And after that, I'll go back to my doctor and hopefully get on track with this stuff...so I'll be around for a bit longer."
He spoke so lightly of a topic that could cause so many ripples in the lives of everyone else in the world. The thought of him not being anymore could destroy Sydney more than anything else in the world. She felt her breath hitch in her chest as she curled up closer to him. "I love you so much."
He un folded his hands from the depths of the blankets and placed his hand at the base of her jaw. "I'm not going anywhere today, Syd."
"But what happens in two years when-"
His voice was a little firmer and less understanding this time, "I'm not going anywhere today, Sydney. I may die tomorrow or next month or next year. Hell, I could still be here for five or ten years. I can't go through each day wondering if I'm going to take my next breath tomorrow. I did for three months and I just can't live like that. I can't live each day like it's my last. If I do, then what's going to happen when I do everything that I want to do? Hmmm?
The tears were now coursing down her face and she had buried herself in his chest, "What will I do without you?"
I wish all the love in the world
But most of all I wish from myself
And the songbirds keep singing like they know the score
And I love you
I love you
I love you
Like never before
Like never before
Like never before
*gasp* Is that not a tearjerker ending or what? Don't worry, I'm not done with the story or anything. We're coming down to the wire but don't worry, there aren't that many twists left but we do have some tear jerker moments left and one that will leave you speechless and teary eyed. And yes, I did plan this many this many confusing moments when I started this in April!
"Mothers and Daughters" John Mayer
"It's My Life" Bon Jovi
"Songbird" Fleetwood Mac
She sat at the edge of the bed and just waited for them to tell her that everything was okay. The sun had already risen in the sky and the light was beginning to pour into the small little bedroom of her youth. Isabelle had chosen to ignore the bustling agents going about her house or the medics running to and from the house. She had even managed to ignore the unfamiliar woman standing in the center of it all, shouting directions and giving an account on what happened. She had collapsed into the large overstuffed chair in the corner and pulled her feet up under her. Her eyes fluttered from exhaustion that she didn't even realize how tired she was on.
"Mommy?" A little voice appeared from the doorway, the cool air flapping the yellow night gown on her little body.
Her eyes opened and she faked a smile, "Hey sweetheart."
"Mommy, what's going on? There's so many people!" She exclaimed letting her hands fall at her side. Her frail little frame stood strong against the cool breeze that swept through the house.
She loved how naïve her daughter was. "Come here, sweetie." She opened her arms to welcome her daughter into them. The little girl curled up tightly in her mother's lap and found a little crook underneath her chin. Her warm body heat soon started to heat the mother's cold center. "Things are going to be crazy today. So, I need you to be extra good today, okay? I promise, as soon as everything calms down, we're gonna go and I'll buy you something at the toy shop in town." She cooed softly, not know whether she really spoke for her daughter or herself. Maisie played with Isabelle's long fingertips, letting rise and fall with her touch.
On behalf of every man, looking out for every girl
You are the god, and you are the weight of the world
"What's wrong with Tante Claire? And Oncle and Tante Sydney? Why are they still sleeping?" Maisie spoke rather loudly.
"Shh. Shh. Tante Claire is sleeping." Isabelle held her finger up to her lips and tried to silence her. Her little girl could be so loud sometimes! She didn't want her daughter waking the entire house or making a ruckus.
"Oh. Okay." The little girl immediately hushed her voice and let her eyes grow wide. "Why is everyone so scared?" She puckered her lips slightly and waited for an answer.
They didn't see a woman standing near the doorway, the tears brimming over in her eyes. She was frightened and unsure whether she should hazard entering the room. She knew exactly what this scene meant and this was the first time in five years that she could see it. Finally, she gathered enough courage to enter, "Isabelle?" She spoke softly and started to pray that she would recognize her voice.
Isabelle glanced up from her daughter and starred at the woman, who she obviously didn't recognize right away. "Yes?"
Jeanette cleared her throat uncomfortably and continued into the room, taking note of the sleeping Claire. "How are you doing?"
"I'm fine. Well, I'm good as I can be expected, I suppose." Isabelle tripped over her words as she started to bounce her daughter up and down on her knees, kissing her ear softly.
Jeanette came closer and knelt down in front of the chair and touched Maisie's foot lovingly, "Is this Maisie?"
The color drained out of her face and Isabelle felt her mouth go dry. She couldn't think. She couldn't breath. She couldn't move. She recognized that voice. "Jeanie?" Her French accent slurred the "J" but the disbelief was still evident. "You're-you're suppose to be dead." She looked like she had just seen a ghost and to some degree, she had. "I don't understand." She pulled her daughter closer to her body. It was her security blanket as she started to shake beneath the light weight of another woman's daughter.
"Mommy?" Maisie looked at the woman and back to her mother with puzzled eyes.
"Are you Maisie?" Jeanette spoke softly, unable to utter anything more than a whisper.
Maisie was never one to be shy and loved the limelight more than anything else in the world, "Yes, silly. Who are you?"
"I'm Jeanette. I'm a good friend of your uncle." Jeanette lied, feeling the tears well up in her eyes.
Isabelle felt her throat close up and go absolutely dry. There was a sudden surge of emotions and she felt like her brain had gone numb. She reached the maximum capacity for taking things in and she couldn't do it anymore....even if she really tried. "I really don't understand. You're suppose to be dead." Her words dripped with venom and soaked with hatred.
She straightened up slightly, reaching out for Maisie's hand. "I know."
@@@@@@@@
"So you want to tell me how long you've been an agent?" A senior agent queried as he sat near the bed. He had taken residence at the head of her bed, in a hard wooden chair. His brow was wrinkles and his suit freshly wrinkled from the long flight for LA. He was tired there was no doubt about that and he could think of more enjoyable things to do with his time than to sit with a reckless agent who nearly got herself killed by being careless with her double status. She had approached death's door and all through the night, the medics worked reverently on bringing her back from her state. But the CIA was anxious to see her and hear her side of the story.
She was propped up with some pillows with an IV dripping steadily from her arm. Her face was swollen and coated with deep bruises. Her lip was swollen and her jaw ached with the sucker punches that were thrown at her face. She had three fractured ribs, a broken ankle and severe lacerations across random parts of her body. "For some time." Her voice uttered coldly. She was broken beyond belief and she was tough now. Like Sydney was when she was being tortured in Taipei...before she joined the CIA.
This ain't a song for the broken-hearted
No silent prayer for the faith-departed
I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd
You're gonna hear my voice
When I shout it out loud
"That's not a good answer, Agent Vaughn." Agent Eades pressed further, crossing his tired arms over his chest.
"Well, it's going to have to do for now, Agent.?"
"Agent Eades, Agent Vaughn."
"Well, Agent Eades. It's' my life and I have to live with the decisions I've made. It's really okay. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."
It's my life
It's now or never
I ain't gonna live forever
I just want to live while I'm alive
(It's my life)
My heart is like an open highway
Like Frankie said
I did it my way
I just wanna live while I'm alive
It's my life
"Like hell you will. You almost got yourself killed-"
"Get my superiors on the phone. You want to talk to Tom Quinn." She hissed and started to lower her body down to get a little more comfortable and possibly sleep. "And maybe when you're finished, you can wake me and tell me what Thames House has to say about my situation. Until then, get the hell out of here. I'm beaten, bruised, and tired. Get the hell out."
"Not before I ask you some questions."
"What is this? My CIA debriefing? C'mon! Even my agency has the decency to let an agent heal over a bit before they debrief them! Give me a chance to get myself together. I won't answer any questions." She snapped and scowled.
"I'm not leaving for I ask you these questions." He snapped back. His temper matched hers.
Claire had snuggled down and was now lying flat against the mattress with her head propped up on a pillow. The pain medication was beginning to run thin and her breath started to run raged against her dry mouth. "Go for it."
He nodded his head in agreement and pulled out a tape recorder. "Please state your name for the record."
"Claire Larissa Vaughn. V-A-U-G-H-N"
"Please state your classification and identification."
"I am a field agent, identification 39R-30438-29482."
"Who do you work for?"
"I am an agent for MI5. Then, I was recruited to work for another rogue organization, The Triad."
"And the name of this new leader?"
"Sark. Stephan Sark."
"Please explain the recruitment."
"Mr. Sark recruited me into his organization after Samuel-"
"Samuel?"
"Samuel Hartfiled, an agent that I had become involved with."
This was the answer he was waiting for. She would be a perfect an example to make on a global scale. This was the reason why agents should not be involve with each other. "Involved with?
She sighed heavily and felt the weight of her left ring. "We were romantically involved." She quickly admitted before looking away and concentrating on the small paint chip on the opposite wall.
He nodded with the answer, "Describe the nature of your relationship."
"What?" Claire snapped.
"Where you intimate with Mr. Hartfield?"
She was completely insulted by the nature of these questions, "I don't' see how that is relevant to any of this."
"I do. I'll ask you once more-were you intimate with Mr. Hartfield?"
Broken beyond repair, she managed to gasp, "Yes."
"How well did you know Mr. Hartfield? Did you trust him?"
"In my line of work, there is no such thing as trust."
Another force came into the room, his arms out of frustration, "What's going on here?" His normally weak sounding voice barked. "I told you you're not to interrogate her until we're back in the states or we hear from the agent's superiors! Do you understand me? Get out before I call the office and tell them you breached protocol." He moved into the room and glared at Agent Eaves until he moved.
"Yes, sir." The older agent stood up and backed out of the room, taking the tape recorder with him.
"Wait!" Weiss barked once more. He held out his hand impatiently for the tape recorder. The agent obeyed and like a meek puppy, he placed the tape recorder in his open palm. Deliberately, Weiss opened the tape deck, removed the tape and threw it on the floor, smashing it beneath his feet. "You may go."
"Why did you do that?" Claire scoffed, sinking deeper into the fluffy blankets.
"Because you were admitting things you shouldn't have to. No one needs to know about your relationships."
@@@@
"How are you feeling, baby?" Sydney was curled up in a large blanket at the head of Vaughn's bed. Her hands gently ran along his hair and she smiled slightly, her eyes covered with bruises. She was in debt to one of the agents, she didn't know his name. He had carried her from her bedroom to Vaughn's and let her reside for a while, with her IV still flowing steadily to her vein.
His eyes were open and he was rather coherent. He was lying flat on his back in the bed with an IV dripping down into his veins. A chest tube had been inserted into his lungs to drain out some of the fluid surrounding the tumor. There was a lot of problems with his cancer at that moment but he didn't feel it necessary to worry her anymore. "I'm okay." He lied. His face was badly broken and bruised and each breath hurt more than the last.
Silent tears started to course down Sydney' face. Her body ached so badly with the chemicals that had been pumped through her veins. It ached to be. Weiss had carried her from her room to Vaughn's because of her insisting to see him again. She was never one to sit and be good. "Liar."
Vaughn smiled softly and moved to reach to touch her face. "What did they do to you?" The smile disappeared from his face.
"Nothing a little make-up can't fix up." She curled her body closer and rested her head on her knees. She had been changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and her hair had been combed out of her face by a charming Isabelle.
"What did the doctor say about you?" Vaughn queried, moving his neck slightly to get the crick out.
"Compared to what I could have, I got out very lucky. A fractured cheekbone and enough chemicals going through me to blow up a small country." She acknowledged her arms set in the white gauze "And you?"
"My chest is bugging me a little bit...."He sighed, his breath hitching slightly in his weakening chest, "From all the bruising and the fractured rib and everything else..." His voice trailed off as he met her eyes. He couldn't bear to think of telling her what the doctor was thinking. That he thought that the tumor had grown in size but they would have to wait to get on the plane to do the ultrasound.
Sydney uncurled herself and lay beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. She pulled her arms around him and sank into the depths of her body. She didn't know where to go now. She didn't know what to think.
For you there'll be no more crying
For you the sun will be shining
And I feel that when I'm with you
It's alright
I know that's right
"So the pain. Does that mean anything? I mean, from past experience?" She asked, feeling her voice raspy against the back of her throat.
He sighed heavily and licked his lips, feeling the chap feeling take over. "That's a really good question." He joked slightly, laughing lightly at his own inability to answer this question.
"Seriously."
"Okay, okay. Seriously, I don't know."
"Then what DO you know?" She asked, feeling a little snippy in her own response but couldn't help this total indecisiveness.
"Well, I know that we'll head back to the states in a few days and then, I'll move into a hotel or find an apartment or something-"
"You'll move back in with me." Sydney replied sharply. "Shiva will be happy to see you."
He smiled again, feeling his eyes feel heavy from exhaustion. "Shiva will be happy to see me. I haven't thought about her in a while."
She laughed lightly and smiled, "Yea and after you move back with me?
"And after that, I'll go back to my doctor and hopefully get on track with this stuff...so I'll be around for a bit longer."
He spoke so lightly of a topic that could cause so many ripples in the lives of everyone else in the world. The thought of him not being anymore could destroy Sydney more than anything else in the world. She felt her breath hitch in her chest as she curled up closer to him. "I love you so much."
He un folded his hands from the depths of the blankets and placed his hand at the base of her jaw. "I'm not going anywhere today, Syd."
"But what happens in two years when-"
His voice was a little firmer and less understanding this time, "I'm not going anywhere today, Sydney. I may die tomorrow or next month or next year. Hell, I could still be here for five or ten years. I can't go through each day wondering if I'm going to take my next breath tomorrow. I did for three months and I just can't live like that. I can't live each day like it's my last. If I do, then what's going to happen when I do everything that I want to do? Hmmm?
The tears were now coursing down her face and she had buried herself in his chest, "What will I do without you?"
I wish all the love in the world
But most of all I wish from myself
And the songbirds keep singing like they know the score
And I love you
I love you
I love you
Like never before
Like never before
Like never before
*gasp* Is that not a tearjerker ending or what? Don't worry, I'm not done with the story or anything. We're coming down to the wire but don't worry, there aren't that many twists left but we do have some tear jerker moments left and one that will leave you speechless and teary eyed. And yes, I did plan this many this many confusing moments when I started this in April!