A/N You honestly didn't think I'd leave you with that cliffhanger, did you? Nope, I'm not mean like that...
The sound of the bullet ricocheting was what brought his mind back into focus. She was still there, but there was a large nick in the floor just next to her, where the bullet had struck and bounced. Another sharp shrill laugh echoed throughout the room. "I had you going there, didn't I White Knight. Made you think I killed her, didn't I? You looked absolutely shattered."
He couldn't breathe, he tried to focus on catching his breath. She was quaking, shivering, scared. He had never seen her like this, he had seen her scared, but never before had she been faced with death, no other option but death. But either his imagination was playing tricks on him, or those sirens were getting closer. He just hoped that they would get here in time to save her.
"You love her, don't you White Knight? You love her and you'd do anything for her? I know that feeling. The feeling of being completely and totally whipped, willing to do anything for them because you're in love. Does she know it?" The gunman stared at her, and he fought to keep his eyes away, but he couldn't. She looked a little stunned at it. "I guess not. But it's true, isn't it?" It was.
But he couldn't admit it, not here, not now, not ever. She wasn't supposed to be his, he didn't deserve her, she belonged to Woody, the young man wasn't good enough for her either, but up until that afternoon he had made her happy, up until the detective had shattered her life, the man had made her happy. So he conceded her, happy to have her only as a friend, only to be her best friend, nothing else.
"Answer me White Knight, after all, what a more touching time to tell you feelings than right at the brink of death. You don't have to worry about rejection at least." It was a small consolation. "Go on, tell her. Tell her you love her." He swallowed, hard, not knowing where anything had come from, his mouth felt so dry. "Do it, or you won't get the chance to."
It was a sick, twisted way to get him to confess his feelings. But the gunman stood with the gun pressed to the back of her skull. "I-" He started, hoping to buy as much time as possible. "I-"
"Cat got your tongue, White Knight? It's only three words, you know you can say them."
"I love you." He finally choked out, the words harder to find than they should have been in this situation. The gunman laughed.
"Very good." He met her eyes, the fear in them seemed to have intensified, as she realized what had driven him to follow her here. That he hadn't come here just out of concern, but out of love, that all of his offers to tear her ex boyfriends limb from limb had come from his care for her, from his wanting to never see her hurt, and that every time he offered a shoulder for her to cry on it was because he wanted her, and that was as close as he got to her.
"Now the burning question, Dr. Cavanaugh, how do you feel for your White Knight here?" She didn't have to answer, he didn't care what the answer was, he knew she loved Woody. He didn't care that she loved Woody, he didn't care that she had given up her heart, but up until now he had his own self-preservation method intact, he kept her believing he was only a friend, and it had worked well. She was none the wiser, and he didn't have to worry about the way she would react.
She stayed silent. "Answer Dr. Cavanaugh. Or do you want to hear your White Knight scream for you again, the way he screamed that last time? It's such a pitiful sound." That's what that sound had been, it had been himself, screaming. "It's the sound of a heart breaking into a million pieces watching the one you love being torn from you."
"Why?" She asked softly and was rewarded by the shrill laugh.
"Why what?"
"I can see why you'd want to kill me, but why'd you kill him in the first place?" He tried to glare at her, why was she pulling stupid stunts at a time like this? Why was she doing things like this when they were on the brink of death?
"Because I know just how your White Knight feels, being in love and not being able to do anything about it. How long have you loved her?" What should he answer? The truth? The time he realized it? What would she want to hear, would she want to know that she had been leading him on for so long? Would she want to know that the special treatment he gave her came not from friendship, but from unrequited love?
Would she want to know that the offer he had made her, to work there at the mourge with him, had been because he didn't want to let her slip through his fingers, because he loved her and wanted to see her every day? "I asked you a question White Knight, how long have you loved her?"
"A-A decade." It felt humiliating to be answering these questions, especially in front of her, the woman in question. His brown eyes met her honey colored ones, and he could see her mind trying to process what he just said, the admittance that he had loved her pretty much from the moment he had seen her.
He knew his marriage had been over scarcely six months into it. He had known Maggie had been seeing other men, and that she had no intention of stopping. The only thing that kept them together was Abby, and even that wasn't something to keep them together more than nessicary. This time it was most definitely not his imagination that the sirens were approaching, growing closer every second.
"Hmm, looks like our fun was cut short. Anything you want to say, Dr. Cavanaugh, anything you want to tell your White Knight before you die?"
"You still haven't said why you killed him, why you killed Bill McCai." The shrill laugh was sending shivers down his spine, it was something that he knew was going to haunt him for eternity, in his nightmares, if the dead have nightmares. It was something he was never going to forget.
"Why? Why do you think? The woman I love chose him over me. When she had to make the choice, she chose him. You know this would have never happened if it wasn't for her, but you didn't have to die you know. You could have just accepted what my brother found, case closed, no one else would have to die, we'd all be happy." The man was circling around them, obviously debating which to kill first.
He hoped it would be him, he didn't want to see her actually die before him. Thinking she had died had been more than enough almost kill him on the spot without a bullet wound. He wondered if it was possible to die of a broken heart and he fought the urge to smile at that, wondering what Nigel and Bug would make of it, someone dying of a broken heart.
"But I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you before the police come. So sad, so tragic. A man and his love, both killed, no one ever knowing his true feelings except for his beloved who will never get the chance to even give them a try. But Dr. Cavanaugh, you still haven't told us, how do you feel about your White Knight, the man who came in here to sacrifice himself for you. Do you love him the same way he loves you?"
She was silent, and while it hurt not to hear the words on her lips, even the one single word, it didn't matter. He knew that she didn't love him, it was just her admitting the truth, that she didn't love him, that she loved Woody. The shrill laugh rang out yet again. "How's this for tragic, she doesn't even love the man who sacrificed himself for her. How pitiful. How selfless of you White Knight. You know she doesn't love you, and yet you come here anyway." He felt the cold metal of the gun caress him with a touch that would be sensuous if not for the circumstances.
"So melodramatic. I think I may have to turn it into a novel while I'm waiting to die." He turned, circling them, stepping back a bit. "Now, I want to see both of your reactions as I kill you. See the look on both your faces. I want to know what to write, after all, it always helps to see the extreme pain, the anguish that'll cross your White Knight's face as you fall to the ground, lifeless and bloody."
Time seemed to freeze. It was as if things were going by in pause with someone hitting only the frame advance key, taking their time to make every second last an hour. The way that the gun was easily leveled at her head, ready for the trigger to be pulled. The door burst open long enough to break the gunman's concentration, enough for him to spring to his feet with an energy he hadn't known he possessed.
His only thought was to get her out of the path of the bullet. He saw the finger clench on the trigger and he dove forward, trying to push her out of the way, she had a stunned look in her eyes, the look of a deer in the headlights, so overcome by fear that she couldn't move.
So he moved her, he dove on top of her, trying to shove her to the side, not caring if he bruised her, bruised, broken bones, they all could mend, death could not. He connected with the floor as two more shots rang out. He hit the floor jarringly, covering her body with his own. His side was on fire as he hit the floor, he surely had broken something. But he looked down to see blood. Broken bones shouldn't bleed...
He heard the shrill laughter of the gunman and he felt blackness cloud the edges of his vision. "He's so selfless he willingly sacrificed himself even though she doesn't love him."
He looked up to see her, her face a mask of fear as blackness overcame his vision, the last thing he heard was a soft gentle voice going "No, I do."
A/N ...I'm downright evil. I warned y'all no reviews means cliffhangers. And well, I wasn't quite exactly fair with that, as it's only been up for two hours, but hey. I'll finish this up tomorrow morning. Night night.