So, I am a TOTAL sucker for Les Mis. It is, buy far, my FAVORITE musical ever, and "On My Own" is my favorite song. I cry every time I see this scene. I've been meaning to write this for a long time. Hope you like it!
~Karsen
P.S. I own neither the Gallagher Girls nor Les Misrables.
And now I'm all alone again, nowhere to go no one to turn to.
I did not want your money, Sir; I came out here 'cause I was told to.
And now the night is near, and I can make-believe he's here.
I didn't want another mission. I wanted to stay home, to slowly come to terms with the fact that Zach probably wasn't coming home. I wanted to wallow in my grief until it devoured me. But, of course, the director of the CIA has never been one for wallowing. "Goode," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "New mission."
"I'm sorry, sir," I whispered. "But I cannot go."
He looked me in the eyes. "Agent Cameron Goode, this is not a suggestion. This is an order. You are going to Switzerland."
I glared at him. "Aren't the Swiss neutral? What could possibly be wrong there?"
He pulled a check from his wallet, handing it to me. "Agent Goode, unless you want the Swiss to no longer be neutral, and to single-handedly be the reason World War III could have been prevented but wasn't, I suggest you listen to me."
I closed my eyes. Agent Goode is Zach, I thought to myself. Why does even my name have to be a reminder of that mission-gone-wrong?
Sometimes I walk alone at night when everybody else is sleeping.
I think of him and then I'm happy with the company I'm keeping.
The city goes to bed, and I can live inside my head.
Bex was somewhere in the Middle East. Liz was in stationed in Brazil, and Macey was in the middle of an assignment in southern South Africa. I was totally and utterly alone. As I walked silently about my hotel suite, hoping to find something to do between now and in seven hours when I had to report for my mission, I tried to think of anything, anyone, but Zach.
Instead, I twirled the wedding band around my finger, unable to think of anyone else. I pictured him walking into the suite, flashing that smirk when he saw me downing coffee at one in the morning. I couldn't go to sleep – the bed felt too big, the night felt too cold without the comfort of him sleeping next to me. I took my coffee out onto the balcony, staring down at the city below. Apart from the occasional taxi, the city was still, silent. It seemed that everyone but me was asleep. In the solitude, I allowed myself to shed the first few tears of the night.
On my own, pretending he's beside me. All alone, I walk with him 'til morning.
Without him, I feel his arms around me. And when I lose my way I close my eyes and he has found me.
In the rain, the pavement shines like silver. All the lights are misty in the river.
In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight. And all I see is him and me forever and forever.
I thought back to our first mission together. Ironically enough, it happened in Rome, my dream city. In between rounds of gunfire and the occasional leap off of buildings, we did sightseeing, reminiscing about when we first went to Rome together back in high school. He held my hand down the streets. No one looked at us – we were just another couple happily in love. We wandered the streets aimlessly, late into the night. We didn't even talk much. We were just together.
And I know it's only in my mind. That I'm talking to myself and not to him.
And although, I know that he is blind, still I say there's a way for us.
I love him, but when the night is over, he is gone – the river's just a river.
Without him, the world around me changes.
The trees are bare and everywhere the streets are full of strangers.
I shook my head, forcing the memory away. I looked down at the street. I had been so caught up, I had been seeing Rome. When I looked again, it was Switzerland. I looked down at my wedding band again. "Zach," I whispered. "Why'd you have to…" I couldn't say the word. Die. It was a terrible word – I hated everything about it. Zach and die never, ever, ever should have been synonymous.
I love him, but every day I'm learning all my life I've only been pretending.
Without me, his world will go on turning – a world that's full of happiness that I have never known.
I should have heard the door open, should have sensed someone gradually approaching me. I reached up, wiping the tears away from my face. You're gone, Zach, I thought. I closed my eyes. "I love you."
I love him.
I love him.
"I love you too, Gallagher Girl."
My pulse stopped. I took a deep breath, not sure what would be worse – not turning around, and having him leave, or turning around and realizing that I had just imagined him. I felt his arms slide around me. I leaned my head back – he was there, really there. "Miss me?"
I turned around. His face was badly cut, his hair singed. One eye was completely swollen shut.
He looked perfect. He looked…
Alive.
"Zach," I breathed. The tears were coming again, but this time I didn't try to stop them. I wrapped my arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably into his chest. "Zach, Zach, Zach," I kept saying, over and over and over. He ran his fingers through my hair. He didn't say anything – he just let me cry. Finally I looked up at him. I reached up, gently touching his face. "You're alive," I whispered.
He smirked. "Glad you noticed." I stood there, dumbfounded.
"Hey, Gallagher Girl?" he asked, pushing my hair away from my face. "Are you going to kiss me yet?"
I love him.
But only on my own.