AN A little shorter than normal I know, don't kill me. But it's so sad and cute and more sad. I love love love this chapter. My own brilliance amazes me sometimes. God I sound so concieted. So in honor of that, I dedicate this chapter to my fired Julie who'll never read this anyway, who always sounds so concieted and is the only person on this earth who can compliment me and insult me at the same time.
Greg followed the others, followed Sara. They put her on Greg's bed. She needed an actually bed and all the other rooms were filed with Greg's older relatives who needed it too. All for different reasons, the others left. Left Greg with Sara's unconscious form.
Tears filled his eyes as he looked at her. She was the perfect picture of sadness, lose and death. But if you looked, really looked, among those tears and cuts and sadness, you could sense the little drops of hope that clung to her.
She was like a fallen, shattered angel. Like death gone wrong.
Greg sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through Sara's tangled brown hair. He brushed it out of her face, arranging her hair softly, silently. Her face was pale, her chest hardly moving. She was so much thinner then she usually was. She really was the picture of death.
Greg didn't know how she could do something like this. How she could seriously try to end her own life.
As his hand trailed down her sides, straightening her out, he felt something in her shirt pocket. He knitted his eyebrows together and put his fingers in her pocket. He gently eased a piece of paper out of Sara's pocket.
It was wet and crumpled and spotted with blood. He glanced at Sara's blank face, like he was betraying her by reading this paper. But still he unfolded it.
Most of the words were run together and illegible. But he was able to read enough to figure out the gist of the letter. His heart dropped and he gently replaced the piece of paper in Sara's pocket.
"Oh Sara," he breathed softly. Or maybe he didn't say it at all, just thought it.
He stayed there, just gazing at her. His fallen angel. His shattered angel.
She had shattered herself, made herself break. And this tore at Greg's heart. This made him sad. Sad for her, sad for himself. And he felt selfish and horrible, both for pitying himself and for pitying Sara.
He felt bad for not stopping her. For not keeping her from falling, both literally and metaphorically. He felt bad for not protecting her.
Sara stirred slightly and forced her eyelids apart.
"Greg," she breathed softly. Greg smiled a sad smile that was very uncharacteristic of him. He didn't say anything but brushed his fingers along her cheek.
Sara's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry," she said softly. She apologized for everything and for nothing. She apologized for hurting him, for worrying him. She apologized for hurting herself. She apologized for getting caught and be brought back alive. She apologized for all this and for more. And she apologized for absolutely nothing.
Greg knew this as he looked into her brown eyes, moist and glistening from the tears. There was such a sad, lost, lonely look on his face.
It hurt Sara, made her heart ache that he could actually look like that. Look sad. Look lost. Look lonely. It was heart wrenching. She never saw Greg like this and she hated it.
Greg sensed this too. He attempted a smile, a genuine smile, but his attempt fell flat. There was no happiness in this room. Confusion, sadness, heartache and pain laced the walls and the floors, clung to both Sara and Greg, drowning out the tiny drops of hope, making them almost invisible.
Silence was thick there too. Sara and Greg just stared at each other. Tears filled both their eyes. Greg's tears slid down his cheek and dropped onto Sara's forehead.
Silence and tears and sadness and heartache and tiny drops of hope on early Christmas morning. Cheers and songs were going on outside but they did not reach this little room or any member of the Nerd Squad. For when one felt the sadness, they all felt it. When one felt the hopelessness, they all felt it. When one suffered, they all suffered. They were connected and bonded together, their feelings and emotions meshed.
The joy and brightness of Christmas did not reach them because darkness and fog clouded Sara. And that darkness and fog spilt over, no matter how hard she tried to keep it in. And it wormed into all their hearts and claimed them all. They were all prisoners to the darkness, buried so deep the light could not reach them.
And Greg, in an attempt to chase away some of that darkness, lifted her up and hugged her tightly. Wrapped his arms around his fallen, shattered angel and squeezed. And both their tears were falling, mixing together and falling.
And they hung on to each other, to stop themselves from falling, to stop each other from falling.
And Greg pulled back, just slightly and brought his lips to Sara's. And they kissed, their tears still falling, crying and kissing. The held on to each other to protect themselves from the darkness. They kissed each other to tie themselves together.
And Greg cupped Sara's face in his hands, letting her know he would never run away. Would never desert her, though she needed no reminding. She already knew.
And they lifted the darkness just a little, letting the light leak in.
And they gave shape and form to the drops of hope, making them grow and flash with color and brilliance and take form and fly.
And Sara, Greg's sad, fallen, shattered angel, was fixed, and flew.