Context: the day of the robbery; an expansion of Jamie's internal struggle.

Also an excuse to use my DVD. :p

The Way We Were

They were going through with it.

He couldn't see any other way to go about this. It would certainly put an end to Stuart's never-ending string of sob stories, and it also meant not hearing Amy's shrill voice over the phone. And, most importantly, he wouldn't have to worry about becoming a human torch.

No one knew why he'd really suggested this; no one could know. It was too dangerous; he was already risking enough as it was to get the boss this last bit of money. It was too much effort, and he promised himself that he'd never do this again. Cocaine wasn't worth any of this.

But now that he'd dug himself into the hole, he'd have to dig himself out. No matter what it took, he'd get out.

He walked by the bathroom; Bob was sick in there again, he reckoned. Stuart ought to know and get his ass back from his break.

Sure enough, he was outside, hunched over something. Whatever it was, it couldn't be that important.

"Bob's puking in the toilet aga-"

He was drinking. That bastard was drinking.

"What are you drinking for?! Gotta keep a clear head, you tosser!"

"I don't want to do this," Stuart answered weakly.

Yeah, well, I don't, either, but…

"It's too late."

Bob was going home early tonight, and he'd leave before everyone else. He'd be taking Cathy with him.

At least he had that in his favor.

Of course, he hadn't been anticipating seeing her on the sidewalk.

"Thought you were going home."

"Can't walk if my shoe's untied." She hastily redid the knot and stood up. "So where are you off to?"

Consistency. That's what he'd learned when lying. Consistency.

"Home. Some of my mates and I are going to The Black Swan. I've got a promise."

Hurt flashed across her eyes, but was quickly replaced by indifference. "Well, have fun. Suppose we should call off next Friday, then?"

No. I waited too long to do something to give you up now.

"Relax. My mates set me up, alright? It's a pity date."

She nodded. "Whatever you say."

"Cathy…"

"No, it's fine." She smiled. "I'm not worried in the least."

"Don't be." He bent down to her level. "She's nowhere near as pretty or interesting as you."

He kissed her. It was quick, because Bob's car rounded the corner just then. But he wouldn't soon forget the way her eyes shined as she waved to him and got in the car.

And he knew it would take a while before the tingling in his spine subsided.

He saw her.

He saw her eyes.

There was no mistaking them as he ran by the car.

They were wide at the sight of him, and just that look alone was almost enough for him to drop the bag and run back in, to call the police. To turn himself in.

No. He wouldn't.

"It's too late."

He couldn't know that she knew it was him.

Couldn't know she'd recognized those eyes.

Couldn't know she'd talk herself out of the truth.

Couldn't know she'd hate him for what he'd done.

He'd needed it.

That's what he'd told himself at the time.

And besides, it calmed him down…

Calmed…him…

Stuart was suddenly there. Yelling at him.

"You bastard! I hate you! His wife's in pieces and you're snorting Charlie, you dick!"

"I just had a little bit, I just needed…I just needed something."

Get his mind off of what he'd done.

How horrible he was…

"He could die, Jamie. And then we'll be done for murder!"

"No, we won't! We're not gonna get done for anything. They're not gonna find out as long as you keep your gob shut. There was over seven grand in that safe."

"Do you know what you've done?!"

That question was already ringing in his head.

He already had an answer.

Yes.

He knew exactly what he'd done.

Seeing Bob in the hospital put things in perspective.

He'd done all this for a pack of white powder that made him feel woozy.

What was wrong with him?

He left as soon as he could, taking out his phone.

He had to tell her.

She had to know the truth.

I need to see you. Meet me on the bench. ~Jamie

I'll be there soon. Is everything alright? ~Cathy

He hadn't had the heart to answer back. He couldn't lie to her. He'd done too much of that.

Another rock left his hand, skimming the surface of the pond. He watched the ripples until they disappeared; he kicked at the ground, scuffing the toe of his shoe.

"Jamie?"

There she was, getting off of her bike. Her face was red and slightly puffy; she'd been crying, but she was trying her best to conceal that.

"Got your text." She walked toward him. "If this is about Uncle Bob, he's doing a bit better, but -"

He's in the hospital because of me.

He couldn't let her say anything else. What he needed right then was to feel her holding him.

He needed to know someone cared. Someone still loved him.

She seemed startled, but said nothing. She drew him into her arms as he began to cry. His sobs sounded strangled in his ears, his eyes painful with the weight of tears.

What had he done?

They spent the afternoon on the bench. They held hands for a while, her thumb stroking his palm; he eventually found himself laying down, his head in her lap, her fingers smoothing his hair. His mum used to do this when he was younger, up in the night from a bad dream.

This whole thing felt like a terrible nightmare. Here he was, in the arms of the niece of the man he'd nearly killed. He'd robbed the store he owned, making a stupid split-second decision that made everything worse. He'd done it all for an hour or two of fine white powder.

If he could do it over again, he would. He'd never do any of that. He'd face the drug boss with his strongest mates, scrounge up some money somewhere. He'd figure it out…maybe…

It'd be better than feeling so…empty.

But things could change. He had money now. He could do anything he wanted. He was invincible.

And he knew exactly what he wanted to do first.

If there was one thing that came out of this, it was that he was going to listen to Bob. He owed his boss that much.

He felt his heart break in two as he sat up. He heaved a sigh, turning to her, making sure he remembered how it felt to be here with her, in this moment.

He'd never have this again.

"Jamie?"

He gently took her face in his hands, bringing her face nearer so he could press his lips to hers. There went the shiver down his spine, and there went his heart, galloping like mad.

I'm sorry, he thought with every brush of their lips. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

He wanted to hold on. He didn't want to leave her. He sighed into her mouth, breaking away and resting his forehead against hers.

"Thank you, Cathy," he murmured. He softly kissed her forehead, bringing her to his chest one more time.

And with that, Jamie Bradley walked away from Cathy Davies and toward his new life as a millionaire.