Chapter 17

A/N: It's so amazing to see people reviewing this who've been right here from the start around two months ago (you know who you are ;) ) Big thank you to all of you! Xx

Dan tries to swallow past the lump in his throat when Serena pushes his hand away from her shoulder. He watches with hazy eyes as she runs a hand through her blood matted hair, leaving a scarlet streak in its wake, and she doesn't seem to care. Simply takes a deep breath and thumbs her tears away, jaw clenching and brow furrowing in the way that he knows means that she's trying to stop the tears from falling. Focus. Detach from the situation and think methodically.

It hurts so much- Right where his heart should be. It feels hollow now.

Serena takes another deep breath.

"We can't leave him here."

He does nothing.

Serena doesn't look at him again, nor does she attempt to talk. Simply huffs and hooks her arms under the man's arms, dragging him away with a sickening slide of blood. Leaves a trail of it in her wake when she disappears around the corner. Gone with the body of a man he'd just murdered. Murder. It sounds strange on his tongue.

Dan's hand reaches out, dips his fingers in the newly congealed blood. Watches in fascination when his hand rises up red from the pools upon pools of scarlet. Ignores the tight clench of his heart as it drums too fast to be real. Pounds in his ears and makes them burn with shame. Anger. Burning- so intensely- with rage and all things he should feel in a situation like this.

He raises the blood to his nose and breathes in deeply.

This is what you are now, his mind is screaming, get out while you can.

No, his heart protests, never leave at all.

Serena sorts through the guy's car, occasionally glancing back at the dead man left on the porch of her very own home. The only place she could ever escape from all of this. She has no, absolutely no idea what to do with the body. She's never brought any of this work with her to the Hamptons before; this place had always been a place to relax, to escape from that life and simply just exist. A life outside of murder and secrets and corrupt nation, her hands tinted red with it all, never washing away.

There's ID hidden in the glove compartment. Max Coleman. She's rather thrown by that actually, how confident was this guy in his abilities?

But then she remembers: I- Put...That there.

She stops and sits in his car for just a moment, fingers pulling down the neckline of her tank top to press against the rough skin of her scar, the small circle that had lead her to all of this hell. Her eyes close for a fraction of a minute as she thinks about it, the day where the grass was too green to possibly be real and the sky streched endlessly above her, almost dizzying as she died from a bullet nobody had bothered trying to save her from. Left her reeling in the darkness alone and afraid.

Of course, her friends were always supportive after. Blair patched her up one too many times after a PTSD episode. Chuck forced her to face the sniper rifle. Nate updated her on the case- because of course, she could never work on a case again, she was fired- or, as she delightfully put it, laid off for personal matters. But her friends weren't there when she needed them, and she knew exactly why.

The bitter tears burn in her eyes as they always do. Serena reaches up and swipes them away angrily. Dammit. She tries not to think of her old friends. She'd rather remember the bullet. The three months of endless pain on the road to recovery. Her life leading into this hell. Anything but remember the shame when she'd slowly removed herself from their lives forever. Knowing they had to be left behind; or was she the one who had been left behind all along?

(And now the man behind the scar is dead, and you'll never get the answers you want, and you weren't even the one to put the bullet in his body. What a waste, what an awful tragedy your life has been).

Serena rummages through the rest of the car, simply coming across a few more weapons. Pictures of her house. Of Dan. She'd thought they had been safe, but they'd been watching all this time?

She shoves everything back into the glove compartment as quickly as possible. Throwing it away from her as though it burns. It feels like it does. But then again, most things do.

"Hey."

Her voice is tender weaved amongst the surprise, as she kneels beside him and touches his hand softly, thumb stroking across the knuckles. He feels his blood flare warmly beneath his skin at her touch, but doesn't make any sign to notice it. Barely even acknowledges her, simply continues to scrub the floor systematically with the sponge, eyes drinking in every detail of the scarlet stains.

"Let me do that, Dan."

She tries to coax the sponge from his hand but he shoves her hands away roughly. He feels her startle in surprise, one hand rising to cover her gasp of shock. Though he turns his eyes away from her wide, bloodshot ones, back to the blood. He's been scrubbing this for so long. Why is there still a stain on the wooden floor? Why won't it leave him alone?

"Dan."

She knocks the sponge from his hand and causes the bucket to spill water everywhere, grabbing his lapels and pulling him to her. He doesn't have time to react- to any of it, the sponge, the bucket, her- before her mouth descends roughly on his.

Immediately, he responds the same. Tugs her lower lip between his teeth and growls when he feels her angry gasp, groaning when she flicks her tongue just so against the roof of his mouth. Can she feel him shivering as her hands trace hard lines of his chest? Can she feel his blood red heart pumping wildly right beneath her palm? He can feel her trembling, as one hand fists itself in her hair and tugs her head backwards to deepen the kiss, another hand wrapped around her waist to keep them anchored to one another. She trembles as though she's going to explode. He doesn't think he'd be surprised if they both simultaneously combusted.

"Dan." She gasps when they break apart for air and he diverts his attention to her neck, nipping and sucking his way down to her collarbones. "Dan, listen to me."

"Listen to you?" He growls into her collarbone before pulling away, chest heaving. "Why should I trust anything you say, Serena?"

Her hands uncurl from their spot on his chest. Stares at him with something akin to heartbreak.

"Excuse me?"

"You left me for dead, Serena. Left me after you promised you'd be there when I woke up!"

Serena's jaw clenches and she rubs a hand across her weary eyes, slumping slightly. "I know." She whispers. "I know."

"Why would you do that? How could you do that to me, Serena? I trusted you. I came with you here because you wanted to save my life. And we both know why you want to save my life, Serena. Make excuses about how I'm different or how you don't know all you want, but I know you feel this connection, Serena. This love. That could be. So how can you just turn your back on that? On me? Were you going to let me die, Serena?"

Her jaw is slack now, tears dancing to the front of her blue eyes now. One of her hands reaches up and runs through his hair. She ignores it when he flinches away, simply hooks it around his shoulder to hold him still. He hates her. This. All of this. What she's done to him. Oh, God. He hates it all. (He loves her).

"Of course not." She whispers brokenly, fingers trembling. "I would never have left you here to die, Dan."

"Then what were you doing?"

She sighs, fingers tracing patterns into his blood-stained shirt that he supposes are supposed to be soothing. Huh. Soothing. At a time like this? No way.

"I was using you as bait."

He's almost certain he doesn't hear the words for a moment. He's almost certain the minute movement of her lips is his imagination. He's almost certain the tightening of her hand on his shoulder is make believe.

But the regret burning fiercely in her eyes is enough to make him see it's real.

"...Bait?" He repeats slowly, astounded.

Her eyes turn downcast, rain clouds brewing there. "I was trying to lure them here. I've...Never been so useless at trying to find people before. Whoever it is that wants you dead, Dan, they're high up. So professional. I don't know why they called me to do it if they're a lot better at this than I am." She confesses, wincing. "Especially since my...shooter's involved."

There is too much in his eyes for her to sort through, to dare attempt to translate into the hollows of her heart.

She can't pinpoint any sort of emotion. She expects anger, and thinks she finds sympathy. It's all too confusing. Too emotional. She doesn't do emotions anymore. That's not who she is- Then again, who is she anymore but a lie wrapped up within another lie, layers of walls and well-constructed layers to keep everybody locked out of her own hell?

"I understand." Dan says eventually, slumping.

She wants to scream at him to be angry. To do something. Something rational and normal. Because, honestly, she needs something normal right now. A reminder of an older life. And so far he's always been a reminder, of what she has been, of what she thought was lost, of everything that she could be and had never dared hoped to be. She needs that man; not the man who loves her unconditionally and sees no wrong in her actions. She hates this version of him. So weak. So forgiving. So loving.

But instead, she manipulates this moment like she always does, despite the guilt she feels fizzing quietly in her veins. This is the moment she'll change everything.

"Dan," she says softly, "I'm going to take you home."

His eyes fly up to hers, mouth already opening to protest but she's too quick; has a hand over his mouth before he can get a word out. She will not let him change her mind about this. Of this, she is certain. There is no other option now. She must keep him safe. Because this is so much bigger than she'd realized and he loves her and she could love him so, so easily if she were anyone else but herself.

"It's my only option here, Dan. Just look at what's happened: You've killed a man. That's not who you are. I know that's not who you are. But I'll be damned if I put you in harm's way any longer. I will not let you be put in that kind of position again, okay?"

Some part of her wants to laugh when she feels him try to protest against her hand, words muffled and lips sliding across her palm. Makes her shiver. But the other more rational side of her forces her to stay on task, keep the objective clear in her mind and not allow feelings to get muddled along the way. She never should've gotten this close in the first place. Feelings had the tendency to explode before her; because that was what she was, a ticking time bomb. She destroys everything she touches.

She will not destroy him any further.

"Let me protect you Dan, please." She practically begs when she hears his muffled protests, pressing her forehead against his. "Please. Just go with this. Because we both know it's going to happen whether you agree or not. You've fooled yourself but you know what I am, what I'm capable of. It's not that hard to remove myself from my emotions, Dan." Serena whispers. "I've been doing it for six years."

"Serena-" Or, at least, that's what his mumbles sound like.

No. She must keep him safe.

"I'm going to take you home, and I'm going to stake out your apartment, and I'm going to catch the bastard trying to kill you. And...And then we'll go our seperate ways, Dan. This was never going to end happily."

How foolish she'd been to believe- even for such an infinitesimal moment- that it ever would.