"Predictable as hell, Sandy…" Jonathan mumbled as he followed Sandy into the bar. He sat back in the shadows and watched as Sandy downed vodka after vodka after vodka. He watched as Sandy handed a wad of cash to a shady looking fellow and instantly knew what exactly it was for… He followed Sandy to the back alley behind the bar and watched him, the fire from his lighter shining like a beacon in the darkness. He watched as Sandy brought the joint to his lips. Watched as he'd finally had enough. Watched as Sandy threw what little of it remained in his hand onto the ground and stomped on it to put it out. Watched as Sandy started to walk away. He moved out from his corner, finally certain that he couldn't wait the six or so odd hours remaining until the bomb was to go off. "So…" he said gruffly, inching ever closer to his prey. "I hear you're lookin' for a score…"
Sandy stopped dead in his tracks. The voice instantly sending a chill down his spine. It made him shiver. He would recognize that voice anywhere. It was unmistakable. He turned on his heel, looking over the man standing in front of him. He swallowed nervously, his eyes widening in shock.
"What's wrong, Sandy? You look like you've seen a ghost. You look so pale, Sandy. Guess your life ain't been treatin' you so well since you stole mine…"
"Joh… Jonathan…" Sandy said, barely able to get the word out. He reached out his hand to touch the side of Jonathan's face, half expecting the man to disappear on contact.
"Who else would it be, baby?" he said softly, grabbing Sandy's hand and rubbing it against his stubbly cheek. "There's my pretty boy." He whispered. "Such a pretty little boy."
Sandy shivered again at the words. How long had it been since he'd heard them? There was so much that he needed to say, but he just didn't know where to start. How many times had he begged so desperately for a second chance? And now here it was… Standing right in front of him… He tried to force out something as Jonathan let go of his hand, though not before kissing it, and stepped even closer to him.
Jonathan moved his hand under Sandy's chin, forcing him to look up into his eyes before kissing him lightly on the cheek. "So soft." He whispered, gently stroking the side of his face. "So pretty." He added, bringing his lips down onto Sandy's and kissing him softly.
Sandy sank into the kiss as he could feel it becoming more forceful. His head was spinning. He was so confused. Was it the pot? Was it the alcohol? Was it a ghost? Or… Could this be real? Could he really be here? In flesh and blood? And kissing him? Knowing full well what he'd done? Could all really have been forgiven like that? So easily?
"So perfect." Jonathan whispered as he pulled back from the kiss, wrapping his hands around Sandy's neck. "Too perfect." And suddenly his voice had taken on a very different tone.
Sandy tried to pull back. Tried to pull away from him. Grabbed his arms and tried to force him to let go. But it was no use. And when he looked up into Jonathan's eyes he knew… This was it for him. He was going to die. Right here. Right now. He was going to die.
"What's wrong Sandy? I thought that you liked it when you couldn't breathe. Remember the fun that we used to have? Huh? The same kind of fun that you have with my father."
Sandy struggled against him even harder, trying to scream. Trying to kick. Trying to pry the other man's hands off of his neck as he gasped for breath.
"Why're you fightin' me on this, Sandy? You like this, remember? You love it. Why don't I just take it all the way this time, Sandy? Put you outta your freakin' misery. It's why you always liked it so much. Knowing that one time I just might take it too far. Knowing that there was always the possibility of you passing out and never waking up. It's the one thing you've always wanted. To die in my arms. To die at my hand. The only desire of yours I'd left unfulfilled. But no more Sandy. Here you go. I'm doing this for you. My Sandy. My lover. My bitch. My possession. That's right Sandy. Close your eyes. Stop fightin' me. Just let it go."
Everything seemed to go black as the oxygen he so desperately needed continued to elude him. Sandy closed his eyes, falling unconscious into Jonathan's grip.
Jonathan moved his hands off of Sandy's neck, only long enough to throw him onto the ground. He crouched down next to him and wrapped his hands back around his throat. "I had a plan, Sandy. A perfect plan. But you know what? I couldn't wait that long. I saw the way she looks at you. So much love in her eyes. I couldn't let you get even closer to my mother. MY MOTHER! She's not yours, Sandy! This family's not yours! You stole everything that rightfully belongs to me!" He knew that in a few more seconds Sandy would finally be dead, and still there was a desire in him even greater than that to see Sandy in his final repose. A desire that only grew more intense as Sandy inched closer and closer to death. He moved one hand off of Sandy's neck and fumbled with the zipper on his pants. "That's one way I've never fucked you before…" he whispered into Sandy's ear, nipping at it slightly. "With you as a corpse…" He had only started to pull Sandy's pants down when he heard footsteps approaching him, and approaching fast. He looked up from where he was crouched on the ground, his eyes darting back and forth wearily, unable to see much in the darkness. And that was when the realization hit him… If he did go through with this… He was going to get caught. But then again, maybe this was worth it. No, because then there was no guarantee that he'd be able to finish the job. Sandy was high. Nobody would believe his story. And to even tell that he'd have to blow his cover. No. He wouldn't say anything. If he left now, he would get away. And the original plan would still go on unhindered. What's the most that could happen in a few hours anyways? He let Sandy go before running off into the distance.
Jeffrey saw Sandy lying on the ground. He ran over to him and crouched down beside him. He checked for a pulse and was relieved to find him breathing. "Sandy…" he said. "Sandy…" He moved him into the light and saw that his pants were unzipped, pulled down half-way. "Oh God, Sandy…" he said, shaking his head as he noticed the fresh strangulation marks on Sandy's neck. He'd told Sandy this before. That no matter what your desires this isn't the type of thing that you do with a complete stranger because it was too dangerous. That if you weren't doing it with someone who cared at least whether you lived or died that you could very well end up dead. He shook him slightly "Sandy…" he said as he noticed his eyes finally starting to flutter open. "Sandy…"