Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Okay, so this was really a short story I did for school, with different names so it was technically mine. But get this, my teacher gave me an 85, but said it was good. I think she was on something. Anyway, see what you think.
His breath comes out in a plume, the cold air chilling the water vapor. He wants to be inside, but something's holding him back. Perhaps it's the fact that he's enjoying the cold for once. Enjoying the night. It's not often that he takes pleasure in the fact that the world is dark and soon he'll alone to dream in his empty bed. To remember his past and wallow in pain. But tonight, he doesn't mind it. Tonight, he could care less about all of that. Tonight, he wants her back more than ever.
He knows that for some reason, this night holds something deep within it. Some secret that will soon unfold itself and stand before him, letting him know what he yearns for. "I need you," he finds himself whispering. "I need you." He feels like crying, like letting all the pain out in one good cry. The problem is he wants her to be there with him, to hold him when he finally loses it. When he finally gives in. But tonight, only the cold is there to embrace him. Tonight, only the cold is there to hold him. Tonight, he feels more alone than he ever has.
He can hear the city beneath him; horns honking, cars moving, people yelling. Feel the rumble of movement under his feet and he knows that if he couldn't hear it, if he couldn't feel it, he wouldn't be able to stand it. Despite all the times he's said he hates this city, hates its people, the truth is, he loves knowing there are people here. He's not alone. At least, not physically. He wants to share this feeling with her. Show her how alone he feels. How this city helps him him to survive in a way. To show her the only thing that keeps him from doing something stupid is this city. But tonight, he knows he can't show her. Tongiht, he knows the reason she can't be with him. Tonight, the only way he can see her is if he dies.
He feels his throat tightening, his chest tightening and he knows what's coming. He wants to stop the tears that will flood his senses, even though there's no one to see him. He still wants her to be with him when he can no longer keep a straight face, whether it be to laugh or cry, he wants her to be with him. But before he can stop them, the tears are flowing down his face, running over his mouth and leaving a salty taste on his lips. The tears are warm at first, then get cold as they meet the night. And he doesn't try to stop them, just lets them flow from beneath his glasses and run down his face. Let's them dry there when he finally stops and only sniffles are left. When he finally stops only to begin whispering. Whispering to the city, to himself, to God, to her.
"I need you," he whispers into the night. "I need you," he whispers into the cold.
"I need you, too."
He feels his throat go dry and knows that everything has finally gotten to him. He's finally lost it. It can't be her who's standing behind him. She's dead. Has been for years now. He continues to look out to the lights of the city, willing this hallucination, for that's the only thing it can be, to leave. To stop teasing him. He doesn't want to wake to his empty bed, shaking and sweaty from another nightmare, for what else can it be? His body stiffens as he thinks about he has gone from enjoying the cold of night, to hating it in it's entirety. To hating every star, every little piece of space that's black and dark and hopeless. He doesn't want to hate it again, but he does.
"John." Her voice is nearly a whisper and he can tell it's filled with emotion. With sadness and happiness. She nearly chokes on his name as she says it again, pleading with him to look at her, but he doesn't want to look. "John."
He stares out to the city still, unable to face her. Unable to face a dream that he will wake from soon. Unable to face her when he knows that she'll be leaving him to be alone again. He can't do it.
The next time she says his name, she's closer. Much closer. And he wants to step away from her, but he can't step back and forwards is a four story drop. He's trapped. "John, I...please." She can't even get out a sentence.
He shakes his head slightly, denying her presence, denying her. He's hallucinating, dreaming, anything but really hearing her. He finally turns slightly when she says his name a fourth time, looking at the ground, not wanting to see her. She feels her chest tightening even more, seeing him like that. Seeing him like this. "I..it's m...me, John." His name is the only word she doesn't stutter on. It's the only thing she's never stuttered on. She reaches out with her hand, touching his cheek lightly. She flinches when he does, pain flying through her as he seems to reject her touch.
But he's looking at her now. Really looking at her and she can see the dry salty paths down his face. She's never known him as one to cry. And now, there are fresh paths making their way down his face as he sees it's her. Reaching his hand up, he runs his fingers down the side of her face, making sure she's real. Making sure she isn't a ghost. She smiles sadly, placing her hand over his as it stops on her cheek.
"Alex," is all he manages. She nods as she takes his hand in hers and brings him to her, wanting to feel his arms wrapped around her. Needing to wrap her arms around him. To hold him and tell him she's there. Finally, she's there. After all the pain and lying, she's there to stay.
She holds him and he holds her as the world moves on. Spinning and circling. They don't care and they don't notice. All they know is the other, glad at finally being able to be with each other. After a while, when he's sure that there are really no tears left, he lifts his head and makes her look at him. Looks into her eyes and makes sure he has her attention. "I thought I'd lost you."
She shakes her head. "Empty casket." Her voice is still full of emotion, a thick whisper that cuts him to his heart. A feeling he hasn't experienced since the last time he spoke with her, all those years ago. At least, that's what it felt like.
"Witness Protection?"
She nods. "Wisconsin."
"Dairyville." At least he still has some humor left. "Plenty of cows for you?"
"Enough to last me a lifetime or two." There's a small smile gracing her face and he's glad to see something other than tears and pain.
He smiles as well, running his fingers through her hair, wondering how he made it all this time without her. "I didn't know that he was dead." He is talking of the man who threatened her life. The man who was accountable for her absence. The man who deserved nothing better than hell in his opinion.
"They got the news two days ago. Made sure it was really him and told me I could go home. Go back to being Alex."
"Who were you?"
"Emily. I was Emily."
He shakes his head. "That's not you." There's a question he wants to ask. One that he doesn't really want to know the answer to. Finally, he decides to anyway, hedging his bets on the fact that they're standing here now. Standing in each other's arms, having yet to let go of the other. "Was there anyone?"
At first, she doesn't catch his meaning, until she looks at the worried expression on his face. "No. No one." She takes his hand in hers. "I couldn't do that to you, even if I was being someone else. I couldn't."
He smiles. "I bet the Feds weren't to happy about that."
"No, they weren't. They warned me to live like I would normally, just with a different past and name." She shrugs. "I chose part of my past to have lost my one true love in a car accident. That I wouldn't ever love again, not until I was back to being me, if that ever happened."
"Did they go with it?"
"They weren't too happy about it, but they knew I'd remember if I was the one who had come up with it." She reaches her hand up and traces it along his face. "I missed you." It's a whisper that comes out and he knows the mood has turned serious again, but he doesn't mind.
"I missed you, too," he replys in a low voice, watching her face as she continues to trace her hand along his skin. "I thought I'd never see you again." His voice is hoarse, full of held back anger and tears trying to leak back in. But he's done with crying tonight. He doesn't want anymore of it.
Her hand stops it's movements, leaving his skin all tingly. "I couldn't see you. They wouldn't let me." She looks straight into his eyes and starts moving her hand again, tracing it up to his glasses, along the arm and to his ear. "I wanted to tell you. I wanted to say goodbye instead of just disappearing. But they wouldn't let me." She looks to her hand that's currently fingering the hair near his ear. "They wouldn't let me." He can hear the tears creeping into her voice and he doesn't want her to cry.
"Alex." It's only the second time he's said her name tonight, which surprises him. He loves saying her name. Love the way it feels, the way it sounds. "I don't blame you." He tilts her chin so she's again looking at him. There's tears shining in her eyes. "Alex, don't cry. Please, don't cry." She smiles sadly as a tear slips past and runs down her face, leaving a burning, salty path. "Please, don't."
And he finds himself kissing her face. Kissing the tears as they slide down. Little kisses, all over her smooth skin, trying to kiss away the pain and sadness and the guilt. She doesn't cry long, and he knows somehow that it's because of what he's doing. He stops when he no longer feels new tears touching his lips and rests his forehead against hers. "I don't want you to cry anymore." He kisses her nose. "It's over. You're home." His low voice turns to a whisper as he says, "You're Alex again. You're Alex and I'm John. No more lies." He kisses her nose again. "Alex. John. No need to miss me anymore. We're together." He kisses her on the lips for the first time this night. "Together."