Chapter 15

A/N: I can't apologize enough that I haven't updated this in forever. I was just suffering from the worst writer's block ever and I had some personal problems. They're still not really sorted out, but I was really in the mood to continue writing this. Thank you for your patience, all the lovely reviews, you guys are seriously the best! Sending much love to y'all and here is Ch15 :)

Her hand is hovering over her old Glock, the weapon she shot her first victim with.

She doesn't even remember bringing it with her. When had she picked it up?

Serena closes her eyes and lets her fingers slide over the cool metal, the long forgotten feel of her old weapon familiarizing itself with the skin of her hand.

Huh. It's heavier than she remembers.

When her eyes open again she finds herself staring at her trembling hands, fingers flexing around the trigger. It's- strange. This gun, that she hasn't used in years, feels right. Real. And it shouldn't. This is dangerous, using this gun, they almost caught her back then because of the gun, so she had to leave it behind.

But she's already leaving enough, surely she can take at least one thing of sentimental value with her?

Serena tucks her gun into the holster that she's strapped beneath her arm. Breathes in. Out. Closes her eyes and tries to settle her racing heart.

The man in her bed snuffles slightly in his deep sleep, and she can't prevent the watery giggle that escapes from her trembling lips. He's kind of adorable in his own way, she thinks as she stands and studies him. He's knocked out from yet another enthusiastic round of incredible lovemaking. (Really, Serena? It's just sex, nothing more).

Serena crouches beside the bed, level with him. She can feel his breath fanning over her lightly and she reaches up to run her fingers through his mussed hair. Strokes a thumb across the back of his head as she cradles his skull in her palm, not at all heavier than the heart in her chest. It feels like it's the only thing that's anchoring her onto reality, as though she'll loose her footing without there to hold her down.

She sighs, leaning over and pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. Lingers for a lot longer than she should, eyes screwed tight as she fights the tears. Her heart all but breaks free of its confines when he leans into her touch subconsciously, his hand reaching up to stroke across her arm softly before he finally settles back into his slumber. Peaceful. Innocent. Unaware.

"I'm sorry, Dan." She breathes, lips brushing against his skin and making her shiver. She prays he can hear her, wherever his dreams have taken him, and that he believes her. Because it's true. So true.

"I'm so sorry."

Before she can regret it a moment too soon and lets her heart get the better of her, Serena slips her hand out from beneath his head and her lips leave his skin.

Serena leaves the house without a glance backwards, tears burning like fire in her eyes.

The first thing he registers is that the bed is too cold to be inhabited by another body.

The next thing he registers, as his sleep-filled eyes struggle to open and his hand reaches out to find her, is that the room is far too dim for it to be daytime anymore. Most likely the evening.

His hands fist in the sheets; finding nothing but the shadow imprint of her, long gone.

"Serena?" He croaks, perplexed.

She had mentioned that it was okay not to believe her, that she didn't quite believe she'd be there herself, yet there had been something akin to determination in her eyes as she'd said it. He had just thought, perhaps, there could have been a chance.

But- it's okay. They can talk about this, right?

Dan falls out of the bed, tripping over several haphazardly littered items of clothing, before stumbling across his own. He pulls a pair of boxers on as well as his pyjama bottoms, opting out of wearing a shirt. They're far past modesty now, anyway. He's fairly certain he'll have a hickey or two on the slope where his neck meets his shoulders, or possibly crescent-shaped marks by his shoulder blades. It wouldn't surprise him at all.

"Serena?" He calls through empty hallways, endless corridors for her to be hidden around the corner.

"Serena?" He calls again, but once more there's no reply. Only his own voice echoing back at him, empty.

"Serena!"

He passes her room, hesitates, but decides it's safe not to enter there. Even if she were in there, that place was off limits, out of bounds. He's fairly certain that she'd stop protecting his life if he even dared think about it. The look in her eyes when she'd told him he could never go in there had been deadly serious.

"Serena!"

He hurries down the stairs, taking them two at a time as his heart begins to make itself known in his chest, tight and making it hard to breathe.

Dan searches every room there is.

She's not in the kitchen; humming and cooking as he remembers. She's not in the pool; working out her stress through the rhythmic strokes of the water. She's not in any of the various sitting rooms; curled up by the fire with one of his books, a secret fan. She's not in the study; reading his Nikki Heat plans with a smirk on her lips. She's not in the library; fingers lovingly stroking the spines of her favourite books.

Panicked as he is, he even tries the beach. Searches by the sand for the high angles of her cheekbones, the flare of her hips, the shine of her hair.

There's- nothing.

She's just...gone.

"Serena." He sighs, crumbling to dust as he stands there alone, watching the long gone sunset and remembering the way that it had once shone life into her eyes.

Outside the house he discovers that her car is now gone. Can almost picture the way that she had no regrets as she'd left him for as good as dead. He had no idea where in the Hamptons it was that Serena had brought him to, and he certainly has no mode of transport. He remembers, from the route to the place, that it was a secluded house. No other houses easily accessible by foot. But then again, could he ever trust anyone around here again? Could he ever trust a stranger with the same trust he had just a week ago?

He could call Milo. But what if Serena's simply gone for a drive? She'd freaked out about sleeping with him (multiple times) and needed some time alone?

But she would've said something, right? So that he wouldn't freak out. After all, according to her, there were people who would pay a large amount of money for his head on a plate. He's still not quite sure as to why.

"Dammit, Serena." He murmurs, running a tired hand through his hair as he pushes the front door open and enters the house.

It's...Surprisingly lonely. He's enjoyed her presence; despite the fact that she had spent the majority of their time together crouched over a laptop, munching on snacks with a furrowed brow. Somehow just her being there had been enough, at least. Dan's not exactly used to being alone, he'd always been surrounded by people. He'd always had some form of company. Whether it be his ex-wife Georgina, his sister Jenny, his father Rufus or his beloved son Milo. He'd never been truly alone before.

He misses her so intensely and it's been a matter of minutes since he had found out that she's betrayed him- or, at least, that's what he can summarize from this whole situation. She doesn't care anymore. She doesn't want to protect him anymore, put her life on the line for his.

But that goes against everything that he had believed she was. What he still does believe she is, really. He can't forget the sadness in her eyes, the way that they practically screamed of her terrible isolation, of the loss of her father, her tragic background, surviving a bullet wound to the heart only to have no one care about her. He can't forget the way that she smiled at him, so wide and large, almost as though her face was going to split in half with the amount of happiness she felt around him, the secret side she tried to hide but simply couldn't. He can't forget the way that she had touched him, with reverent traces of her fingers, her tongue, her teeth as she wrapped herself around him and trembled beneath his own touch, as though the pair of them together was the closest to heaven that she would ever reach.

She'd just been so real.

Dan closes his eyes and falls down into one of the various couches scattered throughout the house, head leaning back as she wonders what to do. She'll come back, right? She has to. Can't she feel it too? The ache deep down in the very pits of his heart, his stomach, that feel like they're turning inside out at the thought that she may have betrayed him this way.

"Mr Humphrey."

Dan's head jerks up, his eyes opening wide when he sees a dominating figure standing in the doorway. Square-jawed, ice-cold eyes, and-

Dan feels all of the air escape him.

A gun aimed at him.

"It's over, Mr Humphrey." The man tells him, and Dan doesn't understand, because what has he possibly done to warrant this?

But he's too paralyzed with shock to argue, allows his eyes to fall shut and prays- God, how he prays- somehow Milo will make it through his death, that Serena will be able to live with the guilt, and, more importantly, more than anything he's ever wanted anyone to know in the entire history of all of his words, he hopes that they know he loves them with all of his heart.