I.
"Do it." He doesn't recognize the sound of his own voice, and then it doesn't matter anyway, because the world goes momentarily silent in the wake of the gun's deafening bang.
He blinks, like in a daze. He doesn't want to look at the deep crimson blooming across Mr. Alderman's chest before them, so he turns to Cherry instead. But there's blood all over her too, all over her legs and thighs and blood he put there and it's a good thing Cherry faints dead away into his arms then, because otherwise Matt's sure he would've done exactly the same.
II.
His mind is a blank as he drags Cherry's dead weight back to the car. He's less gentle than he wants to be, but Cherry outweighs him by at least forty pounds and his knees feel oddly weak, like he's barely inside his own body. He manages to place Cherry gently into the passenger seat, which he reclines for her, and then... he paces.
After what seems like hours, but is probably only minutes, Cherry rouses again, pupils large, slurring, "No hospitals."
Then the haze of Matt's thoughts clears to sharpness, and he knows exactly what he has to do.
III.
"Hello?" In another frame of mind, Matt would've instantly heard the exhaustion in the voice on the other end of the line.
"Christian. It's me, Matt. Don't say my name," he rushes to add. "Is my father with you right now?"
A pause. "Uh, yep."
"Shit." Matt drives with one hand, holds the cell with the other. "Can you get away?"
"What's this about?"
"I need you to meet me somewhere."
"Now?"
"Yes, now. Please. It's an emergency, and – I need you. Okay? I'll tell you everything when you get there."
And yeah, he knows it's "when," and not "if."
IV.
Matt is just helping Cherry out of the shower, eyes carefully averted, when he hears knocking at the door.
"Oh, fuck," Cherry cries, turning an even sicklier pale. "It's the cops. They're gonna –"
"Relax. It might just be my..." Matt gives a shaky sigh and heads to the door, sees Christian's familiar face distorted through the peep hole.
"You better have a fucking good explanation, kid," Christian snaps when Matt swings open the door of Cherry's apartment, but he sounds more spent than vicious.
Matt nods, and Christian sighs, resigned. "Well? Are you gonna let me in, or what?"
V.
The unspoken order of the day was "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies." Christian doesn't like it, but he's still a doctor and he does what he can for Cherry, not bothering to hide his anger or his disgust. He mumbles something bitter about how this is the perfect cap to the perfect fucking year, but Matt doesn't press him for an explanation.
When he's done what he can, Matt ushers Christian out of Cherry's earshot. "Is she gonna be okay?"
"If we're going by a really shitty definition of okay, yeah. Are you in some kind of trouble? How the hell did that even happen?"
"I'm. Yeah. I'm in some kind of trouble," Matt concedes, mouth twisting to shove back tears. He can't look Christian in the face. "The kind where I might have to disappear for a while. And... I'm gonna need some money."
VI.
Cherry awakens to the light of the sunrise, an open road sprawling before them, sycamore trees on either side, and the wind gently billowing against her cheek. She's groggy as she looks around, freezes to see she's in the passenger seat of a strange car, and Matt is driving. He spares her a glance and tries for a reassuring smile, but Cherry just blinks.
When she tries to speak, her first words stumble a little. "What – where are we? What's going on?"
"My father fixed as much as he could, for you. He's a plastic surgeon, too."
"I don't understand. While I was out, I thought I saw this man helping me, but..."
"It's a very long story," Matt says finally. "We are now on the way to Canada."
"Canada? What? I – you – but the –"
"Try to relax, Cherry. I have a plan. And painkillers, if you need any."
VII.
They get burgers and soda just outside of Jacksonville, and five minutes after Cherry wolfs it down, she's flinging open her car door and leaning out to throw up the whole meal. When she sits back up, she can't quite meet Matt's gaze, so he offers her some bottled water and a Kleenex sympathetically.
She takes it silently, then, still with no look, asks: "Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?" But they both know.
"Ruining your life. You could've just. I don't know. Left us both there."
"No," Matt says, chin raised, eyes fixed on the road, "I couldn't."
VIII.
By the time they pass Raleigh, Cherry passes out again, and Matt's glad he took Christian's advice and bought one of those disposable cell phones. After they determine that, no, she's not in shock and she's not getting an infection, Christian blurts out: "Matt, what are you doing? Do you have any idea?"
"When I get there, I'll have time to think," is his only answer.
"Your parents are losing their shit over here, Matt."
"Tell them I'm okay."
"So you're asking me to lie."
"Yeah, well, wouldn't be the first time, would it?" His voice breaks, and he hangs up.
IX.
Maybe it's because it's the city of Brotherly Love, but by Philadelphia, Cherry starts to talk. "I feel like I should hate you."
Matt gapes at her, resentful. "I just saved your life several times over."
"I wouldn't've been there in the first place if-."
"Hey, Alderman was not my fault," Matt says, his tone belying his desperation.
"You're doing this out of guilt."
"No. I just make it a point to never walk away from my mistakes." He blanches, realization hitting him. "I didn't mean –"
"Yeah," she says. Her voice is sad, her expression stoic. "Yeah, you did."
X.
They stop at a diner half an hour outside of the Canadian border. According to Christian, no one's come around asking about Matt, and he helpfully points out that Mr. Alderman might not even be dead, and so, might not even press charges. Matt shrugs all that information off impatiently – he's on the mission of his life now, and until Cherry's out of harm's way, he won't be able to think of anything else. He knows what happens to people like Cherry in prison. He's not going to make either of them live with that.
Matt asks for the check, and for something else, too. "Can I ask you something?"
"Little too late for propriety now, sugar. Ask whatever you want," Cherry says, mouth quirking into a tired smile as she sips her coffee. She's pale, still, and she doesn't, well, pass as well as she usually does.
Matt gives her a rueful smile in return, and his chest feels tight when he asks, "What's your real name?"
She pauses. "My real name is Cherry."
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah, I know what you mean, sweetheart. And that's my answer. The name you mean – that isn't naming anything real for me."
"I just. I need to know." At her quirked eyebrow, he corrects himself: "I want to know."
"If I tell you, then will you stop thinking of me as Cherry?"
Matt shakes his head, feeling sudden thickness in his throat. "I promise you - that's impossible."
Cherry cocks her head, contemplates him long and hard. Maybe she sees something she's never seen before just then, because she leans across the table toward him. Matt just watches her, and waits.
Cherry breathes a name into his ear, and sits back down, resuming her delicate coffee-sipping.
Matt always keeps his promises.
- END -