As promised :)

(CarmillaD: Lo encontre, mirá: http:/ guitarnrd362. deviantart. com/art/RQ-Not-Like-the-Movies-185972659?moodonly=86)

Well maybe there's a God above but

all I ever learned from love

Is how to shoot somebody

who outdrew you

-Hallelujah, Leonard Cohen

Courtney put her hands over her heart in a mocking fashion. "Oh, but please, please tell me- what was it, Duncan? Too much intimacy? Too much commitment that comes with the normal relationship? The weight of having someone cares proved too much for your badass need for freedom!"

Duncan glowered down at her, "Oh, don't try to play the good guy. Don't you get it yet? You can't play that goody-goody act with me. I've got you figured out!"

"You don't know the first thing about me!" she shouted back proudly. "A whole year, and you don't know the first thing about-!"

"I know enough," he cut her off hotly. "to know you're just mad 'cause I made you look ridiculous. You're not even heartbroken, you're just embarrassed."

Courtney seethed. "Who do you think you are to talk to me like that? WHO do you think you ARE?"

"-Selfish, conceited, crazy-ass bitch, willing to screw everyone over just to get what you want!"

"You with your LAME bad boy antics! YOU and your worthless little PROBLEMS!"

"-Pathetic."

"-who never even LISTENED! Or TRIED to-"

"Course not! If I'd listened to a word you said in this entire year, I'd be just as fucked up as YOU!"

Anger.

Anger, like a blanket that fell over both, erased their faces and made them both into plain monsters.

The screams got louder by the second, hit against the walls and was returned to them. Their voices mingled with and tried to outdo one another, it no longer being important what they said, but saying it louder than the other.

It was the same in all their fights. It almost left the feeling that the insults dropped by both of them without a second thought weren't even meant for each other, but for whoever might be looking on to stop and stare in bafflement at the things they said to each other.

They themselves only got to hear what they had said much later, when they played over the fight in their heads, and regret flooded them.

But this time was different, of course. Whatever hurtful thing was said, was said with the full intention of hurting.

Revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.

-John Milton

Courtney was used to the yelling. She had a long history of ending up shouting at Duncan when a fight arose.

What got her to yelling was that he would always just shut off and not say anything when things got ugly. He would turn his back on her and become an impenetrable wall, that every chide bounced off of. So Courtney would raise her voice even higher, because she couldn't stand the way he ignored the situation and her, and of course it never solved anything, but she couldn't help it herself- she could never quite catch herself.

Of course, this was not a moment to catch herself; neither of them were catching themselves at the time. She yelled on.

And Duncan yelled back.

Until now, his revenge on Courtney had been sneaky. He had cheated on her behind her back, and then consistently avoided her, effectively letting Gwen herself take the worst part.

His ultimate proof to himself that he was not afraid, that he didn't care, that he was above her, would be to stand up to her when she came pounding on his door. Nothing he had done in the past days was worth it if he couldn't stand his ground when she was actually present.

He, too, yelled on.

Anger is a brief madness.

–Horace

It was a strike of lightning that did it. They had been so caught up in the fight that neither had noticed it had started to rain. The roll of thunder followed soon after, but not before the lightning died and left them in complete darkness, for night had finally fallen on the plane and none of them had thought to turn on a light.

Duncan's nostrils flared and, seemingly deciding their proximity was too close, roughly pushed Courtney back before he told her, "You make me sick."

In the midst of the chaos, neither of the two realized the same words had been spoken before. To their credit, the tone used this time around was different enough to be unrecognizable.

"I'm sick of your face… I'm sick of your voice… I'm sick of everything about you, I'm sick of you."

Courtney's chin tilted up, because his words were painful, yes- but this time she was ready. "And if I was such a torture, then why did it take you so long to leave me?" she said sarcastically, her features illuminated by a second powerful lightning strike.

It was strange to observe how this was the same girl who had been crying at his words minutes ago. It was scary, how she picked up abilities that fast. She only needed to be hurt once to become immune to it; only needed one stone thrown at her to use it as a stepping stone and make herself taller. She had always been that way. It was a given; if he had made her cry once, he would never again.

"Better yet, why did you do it this way?" she went on cheerfully. "Why sneak of behind my back? Why not instead break up with me properly? I'm starting to think you're not man enough to go to my face with it!"

Thunder roared again, but that was not the reason Duncan's heart suddenly dropped.

That right there—that thing she had just said. To her it was just another insult, but to him, she had hit jackpot. It didn't matter- he wasn't about to let her know what she said had affected him.

But something was different. The comment had produced in him the same wave of raw rage as any others that had been uttered in the night; but instead of prompting him into flinging an equally hurtful thing, it clamped his jaw shut.

And then it simply… happened.

Courtney went on ranting, and Duncan was left standing there, with his mouth shut.

When he grasped the situation, what first came to him was panic. He was right where he didn't want to be. Back in the old times, back when he didn't know better and let her chide him into submission; back to the first day he returned to the plane, as she scolded him and he was much too aware of what he looked like to everyone; back to before his plans, before everything he had done to make sure he wouldn't be in this place anymore.

The determination is what came right after. This was just a setback. He would get back on the fight— he just had to open his damn mouth.

As he stared at her, the resentment wasn't at all forced in his face, like it might have been once. Who was this woman to make him into something he hated so much? He loathed her in that moment— she was a danger to everything he was.

"-who never even LISTENED or did his part to help the relationship! Who flunked OUT whenever conflict came about! Tell me something- exactly WHAT did you expect to happen after this whole circus, huh? What were you expecting? Really Duncan, help me understand, 'cause I sure as HELL don't see what the big IDEA was!"

Time seemed to go in slow motion while Duncan watched the scene happen as if he wasn't part of it. Courtney up in his face. His lips closed shut. An extremely puny boy being chewed up by a stronger female.

He could barely register what she was saying anymore. He couldn't make sense out of the words. But it was still overpowering. It came into scene and left no place for anything else. His thoughts, the rain, everything.

And Duncan was starting to lose his temper.

What had happened to cruel Duncan, the one that had taken over most of the night? The one who controlled Courtney, who had the upper hand for a change? Why couldn't that man unstick his lips right now?

Weak. His own thoughts tormented him, with the same hard, relentless voice he used to make fun of the people he made fun of.

Coward.

Be a man, stand up to her.

She got closer, maybe without realizing it, and he was deeply upset with himself when automatically he turned away from her. Turned to the window.

A real man would snap her like a twig.

The window. Concentrate on the sky. The rain, he told himself, trying desperately to form words in his mind. He focused on the sound of water that was distracting, hoping to come up with more things to shout at her, but her voice didn't let him think. Just think of another insult. Just one more. He didn't want to admit that he was done. That she had won.

A real man would…

Images rolled in front of his eyes. The tape from Action, the beginning of his decay. Courtney's father picking the wrong vegetables. His whole life… constantly trying to be tougher than he really was, and succeeding, only to come to this moment and prove how weak he really was inside. He had power over nothing.

Damn her. She completely controlled him. She controlled his every function, every last fiber of his being. And she probably knew it.

"Are you even listening, Duncan! Why'd you keep turning your back on me! You always, always do this- close off when it's convenient to you!" Courtney was at the point of tearing her hair out; he had remained unresponsive for a solid five minutes now and, as always, she couldn't seem to hold back her tongue. Her hands twisted and untwisted, and her voice was choked as if she would cry, but she only kept yelling.

"You ALWAYS did it, even when we still thought we could salvage this- this twisted frustrating fucked-up THING between us!" She took a jagged breath. She was talking to a wall. "Don't just stand there! ANSWER ME! At least have the decency to own up to what you've done, you big coward! Be a MAN and FACE me!" Her erratic hands suddenly balled up, and had no better idea than to strike his back, and the moment they did, something inside Duncan snapped.

No. Not hitting. The physical is mine. Mine.

It happened in under a second. He whipped around as if possessed by someone else. With his back to the window, and with them never having turned a light on in the darkening room, Courtney didn't take notice of the expression of his face. She had kept on ranting, her voice still creating noise and distress for Duncan, and for that reason, it made perfect sense to him when his hands went straight to her throat.

Her voice cut off suddenly with a short, sick-sounding scritch, not having had even an intake of breath before he restricted her air supply. Instincts of survival kicking in, her hands flew up to his and pulled at his hold. Duncan wasn't himself as he drove her, firmly and unyieldingly, to the nearest wall –which turned out to be the one that led to the hallway.

He saw everything distorted, like a bad movie watched late in the night that you only half-remembered the next day. Courtney's face was illuminated by a patch of moonlight, and her features, tilted upwards from the way he was gripping her neck, looked twisted like she had a bad signal.

Her feet kicked and her knees rose and dropped in scattered movements, her mind too disperse to think of taking a shot at him. Her hands alternatively pulled at his or reached out, nails instinctively digging in whatever flesh she could find, but it was like needles on elephant skin to Duncan—he just didn't care.

He just kept his grip, and in retrospect, the only thing he was feeling was a small sense of victory, and something that felt like peace, but wasn't, because it couldn't be, because the moment was too violent to be attributed such a quality. But the fact remained that was stuck out to Duncan the most was the silence.

The precious, precious silence.

Courtney's erratic gasps were the only sound in the room, and to Duncan, it was heaven. Because for once and for all… she was quiet. She was quiet and not a threat to him.

At last, he had found a way to shut her up. It hadn't been so hard after all, had it?

Courtney kept struggling, but he only pressed his hands tighter; showing her there was no escape.

Here was to every time she had attempted to overrule him. Here was to every occasion she had tried to undermine him. Here was to every unnecessary embarrassment and every time she had forced him into silence. Now he was shutting her up, once and forever.

Hours may have gone by, or minutes, or very slow and dragging seconds. All Duncan knew was that he didn't lessen his hold, and Courtney was getting tired.

She had struggled- and the way she was, she would have struggled forever if she'd had her way; but the lack of oxygen was taking its toll on her. First, her legs' movements were no longer so vigorous, and grew slow and heavy; then her gasps for breath stopped being so ragged, and descended consistently, until they ceased to be heard.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she stopped fighting.

Still Duncan held her in place, watching how her hands were still over his but opposing no resistance and, from what he could see in his distorted view and less than favorable state, her eyes were staring unfocused into space.

Duncan felt more strongly than ever the culmination of his revenge. Here's payback. Here's for you to see what I can do to you.

I, too, can make you nothing.

"Duncan marveled at how not a moment of silence could go by between them when they were together in a room."

-Part VIII

Duncan looked at Courtney's moonlight-tinted features, at her stagnant arms, and her eyes, staring up at nothing, as motionless as the rest of her.

Dead.

The lone word shot through Duncan's brain swiftly, and something similar to the snap of a rubber band went off in his head.

His arms felt limp at the same time he all but jumped back, and watched the woman he had been keeping a hold on plop down on the floor like a lifeless doll, her face escaping the patch of moonlight that had been keeping it illuminated and sinking into the shadows.

Duncan breathed heavily, but his heart rate didn't have time to return to normal before it sunk to his feet as the realization caught up with him. A cold fear struck him and expanded through his body, leaving place for nothing else.

He stared straight at the spot where she had disappeared—only stared, because he didn't dare to do anything else.

"Courtney?"

His voice sounded strange to his own ears. It echoed in the darkness and was returned to him, reinforcing the illusion that he was alone in the room, and feeding the fear that she wasn't answering because she would never answer anything ever again.

Complete silence. Free from the noise that had previously cluttered his head, he had no choice but to see the truth.

…No.

No.

The fear rooted him to the ground. He refused to see the truth.

"Courtney?"

His voice broke this time.

The silence tortured him. Oh God, please no.

And then, a heavenly sound. Courtney coughed once, and it felt like music to Duncan.

Immediately his muscles regained the sense of motion. He shot forward, falling on his knees in front of where she was, and gently pulled her up into the light so he could see her face. She was starting to breathe again.

"Breathe… breathe," he urged her softly, careful not to obstruct any breathing channels as he held her as lightly as he could, one hand pushing back her hair that had fallen on her face.

Her eyes were staring into the distance; she was probably in shock. She felt so fragile beneath him that it nearly broke his heart all over again.

"Courtney…" It wasn't a call, it was a statement, as if he was reassuring himself that she was indeed there, and breathing, and that caused him relief. And maybe because of the relief, his eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry," he said in a choked voice, and after the words rang true to his ears, and he experienced a small release saying them, he repeated them over and over again.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" He inched forwards and touched his temple to her; yearning for closeness, when a few seconds ago he had wanted her as far away as possible. It was as if a blanket of despair had covered the scene the moment he realized what he almost done. "Princess…"

For a moment there, he had thought of a world without her, and that prospect was enough to bring any other sense to a stop.

"I'm sorry… please- forgive me… I love you. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…"

And he insisted because she remained unresponsive. That scared him to death, for reasons entirely different than before.

Courtney's hands–he had just noticed- rested on his shoulders, and 'rested' was the only word for it; he had had his arms around her for awhile, and they had not once flexed to attempt to push him away. Here he was, hugging her after what he had done and she was not fighting him.

She was just letting herself be hugged, and that scared him in new and unthinkable ways. She was just... there.

And suddenly in the midst of chaos, Duncan had a moment of clarity. As much as he loved this girl, he also wanted to break her. Everything he did, from the first day he had called her an uptight princess, was out to break her, to strip her of what made her her, and turn her into something else.

She had always fought him. She repelled him and she berated him and when he came into her space, she shoved him back. Now, she wasn't fighting. Because now, he had finally broken her.

And it killed him.

The tears filled his eyes again. "So sorry. I'm so sorry. Please…. I love you."

Her own fall would bring him down.

"I love you… I…-"

"Duncan."

Her voice sounded raspy. God, her voice sounded raspy.

The motion seemed to have returned to her, as she pushed on his chest weakly. He didn't want to pull away; he couldn't pull away. But, nevertheless, he obliged.

Her eyes set on him, and he immediately flushed with shame. He didn't make an effort to hide the fact that he was crying. Her own eyes were dry; he had probably scared her into silence.

"…love you," he finished.

Courtney stared deep into his eyes, as if she was seeing the very ruins of their relationship. Her lips parted open, and for a second, Duncan thought she was going to say it back.

"How…" she said. "how did we come to this?"

*pokes her head out from hiding place* I am so, SO hesitant about posting this. That was my first almost-tragedy. Please don't judge me (do speak your mind). But, I mean, the song that gave name to the story deals with domestic violence (has a strong connotation), so maybe you guys saw this coming… or, you know, not. Err…

…

~The Lighthouse