Title: Tunnel Vision

Summary: Sometimes there is only one path to redemption. And sometimes, you have to avoid it. One Shot.

Disclaimer: Don't own a thing.

WARNING: Implied suicide.


I wanted to say I'm sorry.

I ease my body, bruised and beaten, into the bathtub. Warm water flushes over me, comforting my aching muscles. A sigh finds its way past my lips.

I have a lot of things to apologize for. I guess I can't list them al, but I could try.

The water drips from my arms as I lift them to the surface, droplets falling onto my plastron and dribbling back into the bath as I run my palms over my face. I lower them again, sliding my body in the same motion until I am submerged. I lean my head back to stare at the ceiling, counting the cracks.

I'm sorry for giving up, but I'm sick of playing Superman in a town that can't be saved, and I'm sick of not making a difference.

I slip my head under the water. Bubbles dribble out of my mouth as I exhale. I continue to count to cracks on the ceiling.

I'm sorry that I couldn't be more helpful, but I haven't been helpful for seventeen years and you've gotten on fine, even with my mistakes. And I wish that I hadn't started to doubt our purpose, but I did, and I'm sorry for that too.

My lungs are getting tight and urging me to inhale, but I simply stare overhead. I can hold my breath longer than the average human can, breathing won't be a concern for a few more minutes. I'll do my best to use those last minutes carefully. They are a moment in time in which I can doubt myself. I've doubted myself for years. Would a few more minutes change it all?

And I know you guys will be better off without my negativity. I'm only disappointing you. But you should know that I'm not doing this because of you, I'm doing it for you.

My lungs ache now, causing me to lose count of the cracks. My mind is clear to think about my pain; physical and otherwise. I'm not sure which hurts more. The pounding of my heart pulses in the water, and I can hear its muffled sounds. I imagine the sealed envelope I had left on the counter, next to the refrigerator. That was just one last joke, it was always my favorite place.

What I can't imagine is the truth. That, in another room, at another time, my brother will dispose of the envelope without reading the single, carefully scrawled, handwritten letter that lay within it. But that time is in another future.

My eyes burn from being open for so long. I snap them shut, and open them just as quickly. My sight is slower than my actions. There is blackness for a moment, before it gives way to a speck of light, which becomes larger and brings the ceiling back into focus. Tunnel vision.

I blink again, and watch the tunnel reappear. My eyes flutter shut, and I welcome the darkness as my body finally reunites with my soul, and gives up.

I love you guys.