Even If You Were The Last Person On Earth

By Colorain

To the reviewers! Serendu: the "Sue" radar is muchly appreciated! Mija: yeah, I know I'm weird. But I'm glad you like it! Goddess-Isis-112: . . . long name there, eh? It's good to be intriguing, yes! Seraphim of the Dark Moon: favs list! YES! Uki: It depends on how annoying I feel on making our dear, beloved Susan. So yes, she will probably get whipped. Will it be by Legolas? Oooh, that would be telling. And Thanatos! What can I say? Long reviews kick @$$!

Disclaimer: Do you even realize how nice it is to be able to say that I own Susan, and how much it sucks that I don't own Legolas? Bugger. Did you also know that I own the end of the world? Booyah!

The voyage into seriousness begins . . . now.

So much for blue skies and rainbows and Susan's dream that this all really was some weird drug-induced dream. What she was seeing was something beyond even the darkest and deepest reaches of her very soul. It was nothing she could imagine, and nothing she would ever want to.

"Oh my God," she whispered, afraid that speaking too loudly would break the rest of the world as she knew it. The horizon stretched out like a fatal wound, a cut of harsh and punishing black polluting the green grass and bright blue sky she had become accustomed to seeing. It looked like blood spilt in anger and hate. It looked like the absence of hope and the pain of forgetting. It looked like death.

It hadn't been there a minute ago. It most definitely had not. And Legolas was seeing it as well, which meant it really had to be there, regardless of what had been a minute ago.

Susan stepped back unconsciously in mute horror, her reflexes keeping her upright for perhaps the first time in her life. The world snapped back to normal, and she felt like vomiting.

"Legolas," she quavered. He didn't respond. She tried louder.

"Legolas." He turned to look at her then, eyebrows raised in a slight look of "I'm looking at the end of the world, now what did you want to ask me?" Susan gulped. Of all the times for things to get serious. If looks could kill, she'd be dead about a hundred times over.

She managed to bite out, "Come here," before falling silent again. Legolas shrugged his shoulders the barest fraction of an inch before turning to join her.

"No!" she yelled, then softened her tone. "No, don't turn around. You have to walk backwards. Slowly."

He complied with the most miniscule of rakish grins, further proving that it was he who was tolerating her. She watched his feet as he glided towards her. There was absolutely no trace of hesitation or awkwardness. The man knew what he was doing, and wasn't goddamn likely to fall over on his ass doing it.

Susan's eyes flickered to his face. She couldn't see any reaction, but he had to have seen what she did. The dark was there, and then it was not. It was belief, and then it was disbelief.

"It is a crack," he murmured quietly. "A break in some unknown facade that is shielding some great evil. But why? What is the point? There is no one here to see it . . . only us. And why would we be brought here? If there is nothing to kill, why hold it in at all?"

~*~

So his words were not exactly comforting. Susan definitely counted herself among the killable things, and was, therefore, vehemently opposed to seeing that . . . thing unleashed. But there was no way of voicing that. Only confusion.

"Maybe it's like pressure," she said, so softly she wasn't even sure she had actually spoken until Legolas turned to look at her more directly. It was funny, now that she thought about it, how quickly her stupid nickname for him had vanished in the face of mortal peril. She continued.

"When you squeeze in on something, it wants to get out all the more. The most harmless thing can produce disastrous results if you put enough pressure on it." She looked back at the seamless view in front of her and shuddered. "That we can see it at all probably isn't a very good sign. It means it's ready to break . . . it means it's past the point of just breaking. It's going to explode."

Legolas caught her eyes, and Susan blinked suddenly. They were full of a sadness and age she couldn't begin to comprehend.

There was no need to speak what the both of them were thinking. It was a thought too dangerous to bring to life.

When it exploded, it wouldn't stay where it was. Everything . . . everywhere would be destroyed.

~*~

If one thing was certain, it was that they couldn't stand at the spot all day. They had been given a new purpose now, as much as Susan didn't want to believe it. They were going to have to save the world.

So when she left a tube of lipstick to document where they had been, her words fell flat in the thick air.

"My favorite color," she lamented, but it was achingly half-hearted.