Chapter 52

Jackson was close. Carter was dead. And we were fucked.

Pacing the bare living room, the streaks of sunlight on the carpet consumed my gaze. It was the same carpet Jackson stepped foot on not long ago. Just thinking about him gave me chills, made me cringe. What was worse was knowing he took away Carter, our best shot at finding the headquarters.

My hate for the son of a bitch amplified. Jackson wasn't just in my nightmares anymore. He was back – and he kept his promise. After all, 'a deal is a deal.' That's why there was no question about it. Even though we couldn't find his body, we knew Carter... was murdered. Jackson either killed him then kidnapped him, or the other way around. Bottom line: the guy was dead. Though I couldn't feel remorse for him, it sent a great deal of shock over me. One minute he was here, the next he's dead.

That could be Luke and I at any time. That nearly had been us several times.

Panic quickly dominated the shock. Him dead would cause us big problems. Big problems. This completely fucked things up – bad enough that our entire goal might have just been shat on. I nearly stormed out. It was overwhelming. Unfair. Jesus fucking Christ. How much more did we need to go through? And how many times do I need to ask myself that question?! Bullshit, such bullshit!

My head was pounding. Body restless. Where do we go from here? God, why did this have to happen? He was our one link – the one god damn link – to the headquarters and he was snatched away. I couldn't even bring myself to ponder over ways to fix this new problem. I only wondered how we could make this whole thing stop.

When one a potential option reached me, my mind ran with it. Clenching my jaw, I turned on my heels, walking the length of the room again. For the first time after several silent minutes, I glanced over to Luke. He was sitting in the crappy chair by the ghetto computer setup. Hunched forward, his face was buried in his hands.

"We need to bail," I said. "You can go back to your life in Ohio. Live a great life and stop hiding. They won't bother you; they are after me. I'll start my own life... somewhere far away. These identities have kept us hidden so far; it can be my permanet new life. Jackson stayed hidden and they never found him."

The thought was compelling – and we could absolutely do it. We could part ways and stay alive. Like I said, they still haven't found us and we were only hours away from their headquarters. Going our separate ways would ensure safety. We would live. Plus, Luke could move on with someone he could have a real future with.

However, the reality of my idea was powerful. More powerful than my unprepared mind was ready for. The idea was more than heartbreaking. It was a punch to the gut.

Walking back and forth, I forced my eyes down. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip. Parting from Luke... Jesus. Thinking about it enforced the pain it would give me – more pain than I expected. I always knew that after this whole thing, we would probably go our separate ways. The awareness of that always bothered me. But the difference... was that this idea required immediate action. We needed to bail from this whole thing and part ways right now. Fuck, it did not feel good. If I was being honest, I don't think I ever seriously accepted a future without him.

Hearing my plan, Luke lifted his head and leaned back in the chair. Red and stressed face drained of emotion, his eyes stayed on the floor. "No, we aren't doing that."

Though the prospect of staying together soothed my instant fast heart, I would not allow my feelings to shut down logic. Stopping my pacing feet, I faced him. "We have zero chance of succeeding without that asshole's help! We are fucked. What are we supposed to do? Start walking around in the woods, just looking for this place? No. Carter was our only hope to finding a connection or a sign. We will never find it now! Plus, it's too dangerous."

Disgust shined through his blank face. "I don't need to hear how little of a chance you think we have. Or how hard and dangerous it is. Stop." Taking a deep breath, he dipped his head back down. "I can't leave you when they would still be looking. I would always wonder if you managed to stay safe."

Marching up to the chair, I glared at his dipped head. "Carter is dead! We'll be next if we keep—"

"Albany, just for fucking once, respect what I'm saying! We aren't running," he snapped, fiery eyes shooting up to me.

"Then what are we going to do?" I demanded in a loud voice.

"We are going to be fine!" he shouted.

Holy shit, we would not be fine! We are blind without Carter. They will find us before we find them! We need to be smart. Groaning, I gripped the hair on my head with both fists. Taking a deep breath, I pushed away my impulsiveness. Otherwise, I would start screaming.

"How are we going to be fine?" I asked, arms dropping. "You know it's going to be nearly impossible now. We need to think logically."

Luke was on his feet, staring down at me. His body and face was tight. "Don't preach logic to me. Think. We have a range of land where this place could be. We have a device that can detect things up to a mile away. Still dangerous? Yes. That's why I will happily be the only one searching the land."

I rolled my eyes. "No, if we do this, you aren't searching shit alone. Can you respect that?"

Lips pressing tight together, he took a deep breath through his nose. "Fine."

Attempting to control myself too, I spoke in a calmer tone. "Please explain to me how we will find it without Carter's help."

"Yes, without him, our chances of finding this place decrease. But all we need to do is narrow down the area. If we can search enough land, that narrows where it is. We won't even need to find it. When we've eliminated enough land, we can get the FBI involved.

He was basically outlining what already had been the plan. The difference was his appealing idea of eliminating where this place isn't. It didn't sound bad, but I knew better. This would still be extremely hard without having some clue of at least the direction we needed to look.

Worrying didn't matter. Staring up into his eyes made me realize my idea of running was doomed. It would mean us parting and him trusting I could stay hidden. I knew Luke well enough to know he simply could not do that. For him to find peace, he needed to know I was completely safe.

He could see I wouldn't have an easy time running away either. Eyebrows creasing, he swallowed. "I understand you doubt moving forward with our objective. But running away from this would not give you a normal life. Would you be able to live a life always looking behind you?"

I thought it over for a long moment. "Maybe. If it meant you were safe and we were alive," I whispered.

"I know it's scary, but you deserve to put this behind you. I wouldn't be able to live knowing they were still after you. You wouldn't feel any better. We need to finish this."

I hated it... but he was right. There was nothing else we could do that would give total peace. Even during the three years I was living a normal life, it wasn't as normal as it could be. I was constantly wondering if I would be found. That's why we decided to go after Reid in the first place. I was done running and hiding. So even though abandoning this plan now might mean living, what's the point if we won't stop worrying?

"You're right. We'll push on. This was just... a lot of shit we didn't need."

Luke was just putting on a brave face; I bet he was just as unsure. However, he was right. We needed to continue as planned no matter the rift Carter's absence caused. At least we would be sticking together. The relief in that was overwhelming.

Of course, nothing could be perfect. Continuing meant probably dealing with my oh so loving father. You know, the liar and ass bag that broke in, kidnapped and killed Carter. Yeah, hell to the no. Crossing my arms, I glanced back towards the kitchen. "If we push on... I want reassurance."

Returning my eyes, Luke searched my gaze. "What do you mean?"

"Jackson." The note he left implied there was a great deal of importance in the actions we take next. It painted a picture of the future with him in it. "The note said take Carter's things. Leave the set up and watch the news, whatever that means. Jackson is still invested. I think he's going to be showing up. He's already around."

"I know," he whispered with pursed lips. "It sounded like he wanted to help us."

"Well, he's not. I don't care if he shows up, I don't care if he can help. We cannot let him back into our lives. Okay?" I asked, searching his gaze. Validation was needed that Luke was on the same page as me. I wanted to know he understood it is not okay to allow Jackson back. That piece of shit will not get the pleasure. He'll be lucky if I don't shoot him if he dares to reach my sight.

Luke sighed, eyes soaking in mine. The beautiful color in them softened with sympathy. "I understand."

After he said that, I forced my mind away from the thought of Jackson returning. I would just start flipping out even worse. It was hard not freaking out over everything else to begin with. Because though we settled on moving forward, I felt vulnerable and anxious. Especially when we finally decided to act.

Despite agreeing we would have nothing to do with Jackson, Luke convinced me that we should follow the directions on the note. I didn't want to do a damn thing that note said, but Luke made a good point. The instructions were very specific. Whatever it all meant, it didn't sound small. It sounded important and worth pushing aside my hate.

So, we followed the stupid note. In a daze, we gathered Carter's things. He didn't have much, but it was enough to take us a while. We grabbed his scattered clothes, bedsheets and spread, all the toiletries in the bathroom. Nothing was said. The only noise was the rustling of clothes being tossed in trash bags and objects hitting a few of the cardboard boxes we found.

Then, we got to the toppled over and broken dresser. We needed access to everything in the drawers. Thankfully, the broken pieces of wood stuck out in the back and were easily avoidable. Luke grabbed the left corner of the fallen dresser, I grabbed the right. We lifted. I would come to wish we never bothered with the piece of furniture.

The wooden dresser was hard to raise. It was heavy and all the drawers slid as far out as they could thanks to gravity. It pulled against us. However, we did the job after breaking a little sweat. Surprisingly too. I wasn't sure if it would even stand with the back of it smashed.

Glancing to Luke over the open top drawer, I caught his gaze. "You know, it sucked lifting, but if the wood wasn't this strong, it probably wouldn't be standing," I said.

He sighed, pushing loose strands hanging in his face back. "You're probably right."

Straining my arm to the left, I reached around the open drawer and grabbed what I could feel was the handle. That same second, I pushed it in. Carter's socks and underwear displayed in front of us was now covered in the dresser. Doing that also uncovered something.

The handle of the dresser drawer didn't feel right the moment I pushed it closed. With it shut, I could see why now. With it shut, the surface of the wooden drawer and the brass handle was now visible – along with the blood that drenched it.

"What the fuck?!" I exclaimed, removing my bloody hand. I took in the sight with wide eyes. Only the handle and the wood surrounding the handle was covered in blood, but trust me, it was enough. The dresser of drawers standing again, it pushed a few red drops to fall onto the shirts in the open drawer under it.

We knew he was killed. The big line of blood on the kitchen rug was as real of a sign as you get. Seeing this though, the question started running over and over in my head: what exactly happened?

Whatever happened, it was worse than we thought. Both of us staring at the sight, I stepped around and moved in front of the remaining open drawers. And... yep. All bloody. The front of the next drawer down was the bloodiest, running down and ruining the surface of all the other drawers under it.

With my clean hand, I avoided the blood and slowly slid the rest of the drawers closed. It finished the brutal puzzle. The top drawers were the worst, as if blood spilled from the source and onto the wood. The massive patch of blood ran down the rest of the drawers, covering the bottom drawers in red lines that reached the floor.

It was disturbing to know all this blood belonged to a man who's been involved with us for a long time. Longer than we even knew him. He spied on Luke, chased me, and for years that was his job. Then, when we kidnapped him, he became somewhat of an ally. It was strange knowing he was dead. Disturbing and unfortunate, but at the same time, I didn't feel any sympathy. There was only one other time I experienced this weird sensation. And that's when I killed Clare.

Glancing up to Luke, my concern fully refocused onto him. Though I was ready to fucking lose it with all this added stress, Luke was on a different level. I couldn't look away from his pale sick face and the distance in his expression. Locked onto the blood, he allowed it to swallow him. He stared at it numbly.

"Do you think he deserved this?" he asked in a low voice.

I didn't hesitate to answer. It was simple for me. Hopefully, it would help sooth this guy who had a bigger heart than me. "He absolutely did." But man... I just wish I knew what exactly happened. Clearly, he put up a fight, and a good one that lasted throughout the whole apartment. There were just so many questions.... How? Why did Jackson take his body? How could he without being seen? What happened to cause so much blood? Unfortunately, we had no access to the answers. While we had a camera set up, it was strictly live feed. Nothing was saved.

He nodded, numb face giving away nothing. He said nothing and continued standing there. In a daze, just staring at the bloody wood. It did not help him one bit. I wanted to usher him out of the room.

"Why don't you start hauling stuff out," I said softly, nodding to where he set one trash bag full of clothes next to him. "I can snag the shit in these drawers and we can get out of here."

"Don't worry about it. Go wash your hand," he said, stepping back to the dresser. Grabbing a few handfuls of the socks, he tossed them into a bag. I could only watch.

His nonchalant manner was not good. Wasn't healthy. Especially when it was more than clear how overwhelmed he was. It was a depressing sight. What was worse... was the question that struck me when my eyes found the blood on my hand. A question that stood above all the others. How long until something deadly happened to us?

***

It was no surprise I had a nightmare that night. Figures it would be worse than usual.

My head flew up from my pillow and I sat up. Eyes shooting open, I was awake and aware. Gasping and sweat-covered, I took in my surroundings. My dark room, the bed under me. Just a nightmare. Just another fucking nightmare. But damn, this one was intense.

Jackson hunted us through a foreign house. He cornered Luke and I, and funny enough, we were trapped against a dresser. The sounds of the gunshot still rung in my head. And even more vivid was the sight... of a bullet penetrating a horrified Luke. It broke through his chest and shattered out Luke's back, dousing the front of the dresser with blood. Luke fell to the floor dead, body propped against it. A very real sorrow filled my entire body. Before I could scream out in agony, Jackson shot me too. My blood hit the wood and my body slumped down next to Luke. So vivid... My legs gave out, life leaving me, and the last movement was of my head falling onto Luke's dead shoulder. Our bodies slumped against each other and the dresser. Dead. Lifeless.

"Fuck me," I groaned, crossing my legs under me. I closed my eyes tight. Not real, not real... It was only a dream. It was not real.

But it could be real.

My eyes shot open and ahead of me, staring at my own dresser of drawers against the wall. After what happened with Carter, and after that nightmare, it wasn't hard to imagine my dresser covered in mine and Luke's blood.

Nope, I wasn't going through this. Not torturing myself over a damn dream. I was sick of this – every damn night! It was so hard to fall asleep every night. There was so much I couldn't stop thinking about. I was constantly going back and forth in my head over Luke. It was a miracle I fell asleep earlier with Carter's death and Jackson on my mind.

It took hours to fall asleep now... and when I did, I was invaded by horrible nightmares. Then to be woken up by one tonight, I mean good lord, how much more could I handle?

Knowing there was no point trying to fall back asleep, I shoved my covers away and got to my feet. However, when I opened my door, I froze at the sight across from me. Though the dim hallway, the bedroom door across from mine was open, indicating Luke was awake and out of bed.

I stood there, not sure what to do. If I go back to bed, I will lay there and my brain will torture me. If I go downstairs and watch TV, I would probably face Luke. And while I would always want to be there to help him, I didn't know if I could handle it tonight. Thinking about him and his struggles was hard enough. Based on what happened last time I tried helping, Luke probably wanted me to leave him alone anyway.

Unfortunately, I guess I like to suffer. If I could help him, I wanted to. Maybe if I'm lucky, he's just up for a snack. Or maybe he was in the bathroom. However, once I stepped out into the hall, I could see he wasn't in the bathroom. Peeking in his room verified he wasn't in there like I expected.

What I didn't expect was not finding him when I walked downstairs.

Not in the kitchen, not in the living room, not even in the garage. Wandering around the house, I looked all over. Thankfully, the sight of both trucks in the driveway told me he was around here somewhere. He didn't go for a joyride or take off, so where was he? Whatever was going on, he better be okay.

I looked all over the house with no success. Started calling his name and received no response. I didn't know where else to look. Maybe he went on a jog...? I doubted it. When I looked out to the front yard, it was lightly raining. For the fact that I didn't know where else he could be, I had to assume jogging was a likely option. Or maybe he was just outside somewhere. I checked the front, but not the back.

Moving past the living room furniture, avoiding the pile of bags and boxes with Carter's things, I stopped at the sliding door. Flicking on the back light, it flooded the dark backyard with light. Through the wall of rain, the light extended down towards the water, fading with distance. It just barely reached the dock, but it was enough to illuminate the back of his head and his grey shirt.

Good. He didn't just fly away. Of course, sitting out on the dock, in the rain... not a good sign either. It was more than not a good sign; it scared me. Gripping the sliding door handle, I whipped it open. Stepped out onto the cold damp cement with my bare feet, and shut the door. Squinting through the soft rain, I walked down the yard and towards the dock.

The droplets absorbed into my hair, my camisole, and shorts. It felt wonderful after that nightmare. It erased the hot and sweaty sensation. The cool night air caressed my cheeks. However, it wasn't worth the disturbing sight that grew with each step. Reaching the dock, I stopped in place. Yeah, Luke was not up for some midnight snack.

The man was sitting at the end of the dock, on the edge. He propped his slumped form with a hand on the wet wood behind him. Several scattered beer cans were sitting to his left. Over the clapping rain against the river, a hallow ting would hit the air every few seconds. It was from droplets hitting the cans, revealing they were empty. If the number of empty cans wasn't enough to show he's been here for a while, the man himself was completely soaked. Every inch of his grey shirt absorbed the rain. Water coated and ran down his arm in sight. His hair was dripping wet too.

Watching him raise his free hand and take a swig from the beer, I cringed. I hated seeing him like this. I hated even more that I didn't know what would happen if I make my presence known. The guy was drunk and in a bad state of mind. The dude would probably just tell me to get lost again. Honestly, there was a temptation to turn around and go back inside. Yet, I could not do that. Regardless of how much my heart worked to death over him, I couldn't. I was too worried and scared. Plus, the dude is drunk! What if he falls in the river, drowns... yeah, not a good ending to the story. I needed to be here for him, help him if he lets me.

Cautiously moving forward, I neared the drunk man. I could see more; his rain soaked legs hanging off the side, hand holding a beer in his lap. Pausing when the beer cans were at my feet, I leaned forward and craned my head to take in his face.

It was coated in water, his hair completely pushed back. It reminded me of how he looks coming back from a jog. Obviously, my concern dominated any thoughts about attractiveness, but his beauty was still evident.

Especially in his closed eyes. The smoothness of his eyelids offered a peacefulness, a calmness. There was a beauty alone in knowing he wasn't aware of me. His chest moved up and down, easily seen with his shirt clinging to him. The only other movement was his thumb, circling the rim along the top of the can. It was amazing to catch a glimpse, and yet tormenting to see the truth in how much he was hurting.

Damp eyelashes, smooth lips... If I lean down and kiss them, would it make our chaotic troubles go away? What a dream that would be. I wanted to kill my stress, wanted him. The signs of distress in his scrunched eyebrows made it even more tempting.

That would probably only screw things up more. This man was drunk and we were both emotionally disturbed. I needed to be careful. I will need to measure what I say and do.

For any progress to happen though, it meant making myself known. I bent down to the empty cans beside him, pushing them all close together. The clanging of the cans gave me away, but the man didn't open his eyes. The only change in him was his circling thumb froze.

After pulling the cans back towards me, and they slid along the wood, it opened a space for me to sit beside him. Eyeing him carefully, I licked my lips and sat down. The water on the dock immediately soaked my shorts and my thighs before. It stopped where my legs and feet dangled above the water.

I didn't know what to say... what would help. The best option might be to say nothing. Maybe him knowing I was here, sitting beside him in the rain, would be enough. It sure felt like enough to me, guys. Jesus Christ, I was getting chilly and more and more wet.

Sitting in silence did nothing for the man though. Long moments passed before he spoke. His eyes remaining closed. "Even in the middle of the night... raining, sitting on a damn dock, here you are."

The snide tone in his voice was painful to hear. Almost painful enough to cause me to apologize and head back inside. Getting drunk on this dock in the middle of the night, he made it sound as if it was to get away from me. At the same time, his aggravation rubbed off on me. Sorry I want to make sure you were okay, Luke.

Luckily, before I could snap at him, he spoke again. This time, in an exhausted and sad voice. "You weren't supposed to see this," he said, slurring slightly on the last word.

"I figured as much," I whispered, looking over him again.

Luke was a man going through a lot, but if he could avoid it affecting me, he would. He put on a brave face, was supportive of me, and always reassured me. Lately, it was harder for him to do that – and I didn't mind one bit that he was slacking. I didn't need assistance when he was going through enough.

But he still tried if he could help it. Even earlier before we went to sleep, I started questioning everything again. Started freaking out over what happened when we entered Carter's apartment. While he was reserved and quiet, he continued reassuring me all would be fine. He put effort in hiding any pain or worry if he could. Seeing this now, Luke was just trying to be brave for me. Tried hiding getting drunk from me.

"Do you want to go inside?" I asked, seeing as his plan to avoid me failed.

"No, it's a nice night. You are more than welcome to go inside."

He wasn't yelling, he wasn't being too pushy. Don't get snippy back I had to tell myself. "No, I'm good."

Finally opening his eyes, his lids were heavy and his gaze slow. The green in them was full of sadness when they found mine. "Do you think it bothers me, what happened to Carter?"

Rubbing my wet palms together, I took a deep breath. Well, he wasn't flipping his shit yet. Then again, he wasn't in great mental shape; his eyes started falling away to the distance. "You did seem bothered earlier. Which I understand. He was killed."

"I'm bothered because I'm not bothered," he said, eyes sharply finding mine again.

Rain, middle of night... No fucking riddles for me. "What do you mean?"

Taking another sip of his beer, he rolled his eyes. "All the stress him gone causes, it feels almost worth it. Man I... I couldn't be more relieved to know he's dead," he said, slurring much worse.

I raised an eyebrow. Luke was a man with a big heart, a love of life and fairness. Not to mention, he seemed disturbed earlier over it. "Really?" I asked, licking my rainy lips.

He nodded. "Honestly. I-I... If we lived through everything and I helped him flee the country, I don't know if I would have been able to live with myself. He killed so many. I let him kill that cop. And I've been a part of enough."

Let him? This man was suffering over stuff that made no sense now. He didn't let anyone die, didn't do anything out of being a bad person. Biting my tongue though, I understood how much his guilt affected him. How much he hurt over all the things he's seen and done. Carter dying was a weight lifted off Luke.

"He was an awful person," I said. Giving him my view of it, I figure maybe it will help. Maybe I was a bad person, but I didn't feel bad for being glad he's gone. "It's okay to feel happy that he's dead. He's killed so many people, and you know there are worse things he didn't tell us...."

"Yes. Exactly. He was shit. I'm glad he is dead. But..." he chuckled humorlessly. "He was a person. I shouldn't be so happy he's dead."

"You shouldn't feel guilty for not feeling guilty," I scoffed.

"Yes, I should! I should feel guilty," he hissed. Downing the rest of his beer, he set it behind him. His wandering eyes filled with more pain. "Unlike you, I haven't run out of guilt."

Nobody needed to tell me he was drunk. You say things you usually wouldn't when you drink. However, knowing him, I was sure he subconsciously believed it. That I didn't hold any guilt. I had to hold back from shouting my next words. Because my god... was he beyond – fucking beyond – wrong.

"I feel more guilty than you can imagine," I mumbled, looking out to the river. Those powerful yet drunk eyes were too much. Especially when the guilt I was speaking of was all for him. "You don't know how guilty I feel. You might not see it, but it's... it's there."

It was the first time I noticed the rain picked up. The fast droplets enticed the river to dance and play. I was soaking wet and cold, but paid no mind. All I could think was that I needed to keep my mouth shut. Keep it shut on anything that had to do with Luke and my feelings revolving around him. It was hard living with all the guilt, the pain, the fight in me over him. I speak any more of it, I may break.

Whether it was my words or his drunkenness causing it, Luke grabbed my arm. The contact his wet even colder hand made against my skin made my head jerk back to him. The arm he wasn't propping against was strained through the space between us, hand not letting go. Turning towards me, he sat up straighter, eyes lazily resting on mine.

The laziness in his gaze didn't dim a damn thing. The pain only grew. The sadness and the fire. Grip tightening, he towed me closer, eliminated the few feet between us. Before our soaked sides could press together, he stopped and let go. Our heads craning to meet each other's eyes, it didn't make me feel better. Rain droplets continuously slid down his face, pain radiating more vividly through it all.

"Would you have said yes?" he asked, voice breaking, brows raising.

Immediately, I was scrambling to understand. Would I have said yes to what? Did he forget to say something? Because a little context would be nice. Was I just being stupid? I didn't understand.

Staring up into his desperate eyes, I pushed myself harder to think. Yes to what? Seeing the pain on his face didn't help. Whatever his question was about, it seemed of great importance to him. Sighing, completely on edge, I had to force the words through my lips. "Would I have said yes to what?"

His face went blank. In surprise, in anger, I didn't know yet. As it turns out, both.

A slow scowl slowly reached his lips and he closed his eyes tightly. His sadness and disgust increased. He looked away, out towards the water. Great. I pissed him off. And in response, dread filled me. The last, the absolute last, thing I wanted was to make anything worse. I wanted to help and look what happened.

Watching him tensely, Luke opened his eyes and chuckled under his breath. "Will you please go inside?"

Though I prepared myself for this reaction, I didn't prepare myself to make it worse. Should have known. I'm not the best talker or people person. However, hearing that cold chuckle and those words, I couldn't handle leaving him. He was drunk, I cared, and was getting very upset and worried.

"Look, I know you want me out of your hair, and I will be. But... will you come inside too? I can't leave you out here," I said softly.

"No," he scoffed. "Go inside. I'm fine. Please. Leave me the fuck alone, that's all I need."

"Luke—"

"Why are you doing this to me?!" he shouted. Getting to his feet, he wobbled before his bare legs steadied himself. Glancing up and behind me, he narrowed his eyes down on me. "Why can't you just walk your ass up to the house? T-That's it, all I want. I am asking you to leave me alone. I'm not asking you to climb a fucking mountain!"

Scowling myself, I shook my head. Drunk or not drunk, I wasn't going to take it, apologize, then walk my sorry ass back to the house. Rising to my feet, turning to him, I hissed right back through the rain. "I find you sitting here at three in the morning in the fucking rain. You're drinking and you are hurt. You expect me to ignore it?"

Shaking his head, he looked down to the damp dock. "Nope. And that's why I came out here in the middle of the night. Because the last thing I want is you finding me and worrying."

"So you're just pissed that I came out here and found you?"

"I'm pissed that I can't be anywhere – anywhere or do anything – without you!"

All I could do was purse my lips and hold in the pain. The haze of rain pouring down faster on us, I could still clearly see his pale wet face. His bright eyes filled to the brim in agony, making my chest tighten.

Sucking up the stupid pain, I groaned. The massive headache I was familiar with returned. I was done – as done as he was. I didn't realize the extent of his pain was this bad. I did not want to make it worse. He didn't want to be around me, I understood. It hurt, but I understood.

"Okay," I hissed, throwing my arms up. Insides shuttering, I bit my bottom lip and sucked it up. "Night." Unable to handle the intensity in his face, I looked down and walked by him and back towards the house.

This was the best I could do. I might as well have just stayed inside. All this did was rile up all the commotion in my mind, stirring the pins and needles in my chest. When I slid the door open and was back in the house, I felt heavy. And it wasn't just because of my soaked state.

Rushing up the stairs, I stripped my wet clothes off. In a hurry, I threw on some sweatpants and a shirt. Not even bothering to dry my hair, I closed my door and felt the lump in my throat rise. Nope. No fucking crying, but I was close. Laying on the floor, I hid my face in my arm.

What do I do? What? What?! What?! What can I do?! He didn't think I was guilty! Fuck, I suffocated myself in guilt every day. Every single day that I see that man suffer. And now, worse. Worse. My insides were tearing more, and yet, he must think I am heartless. He didn't even want to be around me. He was sick of putting on a brave face, he was sick of seeing me because it was a reminder. He didn't have to say it, but that's what it was. He didn't want his desires dangled in front of his face. He was sitting in the rain drunk because of me! Because of me and the number of other things I wanted to help him with. And I couldn't!

What was wrong with me? Why did he have to hurt so much?! Why was I so stubborn?! Breathing heavily, I couldn't stop the rush of abuse I threw at myself. I completely became consumed in it. How in the world could I help him? The only answer, the only one I would love, would end in turmoil.

It would only end in turmoil... if we even live that long.

Lifting my head, I took in the bottom draw of my dresser I was eye level with. Looking over the whole piece of furniture, I easily imagined my dream again. The picture of Luke and I, dead, slumped against it. For what we would face in the future, that was a likely outcome. Us dead.

Carter was gone; we were alone. I didn't care how brave Luke acted, he was scared too. We could very possibly die. Hell, if discovering Carter's blood meant anything, it was that we could die just as fast and unexpectedly. Because for all we knew, Reid and his men would ambush us. Kill us both before we even know what happened. Kill us before Luke and I would ever get the chance to have children.... It was a new ingredient added to this stupid debate in my head.

Before my head exploded, I groaned and got to my feet. I dug out Luke's coat. The sweet coat I stole before leaving home three years ago. It offered me peace, while at the same time, it could tear me a part. As I wrapped myself in it, laying down on my bed, it gave me both.

Jesus, how much I would love to go outside and get him. Show him this coat and tell him I never stopped loving him. Holding his coat around me, staring at the dresser, it sounded perfect. The possibility that it could happen, truly happen, helped me hold back my tears. Why did I never think of that before? That we might die... and should take advantage of living our lives right now. Revive our relationship.

I was stupid... to not consider that we might not be alive to even have children. I hated to think that, but it was true. And what a shame it would be if we get killed and not at least be together. We didn't know the danger we would face. So maybe it would be best to make life as beautiful as we can. Yes, that meant giving Luke all my love. I almost smiled in hope.

Call me crazy, I get it. Getting back together, the reason shouldn't be because we don't know how much longer we will be alive. That's just fucking depressing. But at the same time, it was tempting. For all we are to each other, more than any other time before, we should show it now. And... if we don't die, if we live and can have kids, we just deal with that problem when it happens. Maybe it would be okay to deal with it later. Was it okay to think this way? Where I just say screw it? Because if we live through it all, are happily together... then maybe we can just face the issue when it happens.

What would be the big loss there? Yes, the torment of not giving Luke children. Or the fear of hurting them if we do have kids. Regardless, whatever pain it might cause, at least we would be together. Right? Fuck man, how much worse could it be than this? Could it be any worse than what we were dealing with right now? I was wrapped in the man's coat and close to break down while he is getting drunk in the rain at 3:00am.

The thought made me want laugh. It was quite pathetic. Taking a step back from our lives, this whole situation, it was absolutely pathetic and somewhat amusing. All this trouble, this guilt and grief... and why? All because I refused to get back together with Luke... How fucking stupid. Nothing was worth this, was it?

Realizing all these wonderful things, running these positives through my head, I got to my feet. Holy bitch, was I really doing this? It sure felt like it. Realizing the big picture, of how silly this was, the solution almost seemed obvious. Obviously, I should just give in and allow ourselves to be happy.

Filled with anxiousness, I put away Luke's coat. Should I do this? Should I really do this? God, I should! We both want this. Wow. How stupid of me to not realize this earlier. Walking towards the door, I swung it open... and stopped.

Not today. Not now. He's drunk; this is too spur of the moment. Do not be irrational. Think it over before you get your man....

Yes, it was the wise words of Albany Higgins that stopped me from running down to him and confessing my love. There were a lot of hopes running through me. A lot of positive thoughts. But if I go down there, who knows, I might make things worse. I might regret it. Because though we were in pain... it probably could be worse when it came to the life changing decision of parenthood. I needed to think about it.

I took a step back. "Fuck me in the ass," I sighed, swinging my door shut.

It was too bad that I cared for the guy. Otherwise, I would snag him right now. Nope, I loved him. Thinking about it was the best rational option. But, at the very least, I had hope. For the first time in a long time, I felt hope that I could justify my desires and pursue them.

***

Scanning myself over in the mirror, I let out a sigh. All done and sexy. Well, not sexy, but I was dressed up. I put more effort into looking nice. Don't blame me though. With everything on my mind, I was looking forward to this. For once, there was a reason to look nice. More than anything, I loved acting out my life as Peggy. Today's block barbeque at Grace's house was the best opportunity to be someone that wasn't me. And trust me, after these past few days, I wanted to be anyone but me.

Please don't get all pissy, folks... but I didn't cave yet. Shut up, don't even start!

After my revelations, after going over it all in my head, I felt like I could confess my love to him and everything would be fine. I wanted to, I should, but I kept talking myself out of it. There were a few factors, but when parenthood crossed my mind, it bit me in the ass. It made me see how big of a deal it will be if I deny him fatherhood. Hell, who knows, Luke might not even want me at this point.

Since that night, we kept our distance from each other. The tension was too high for either of us to deal with. Luke made it very clear how much he didn't want me around. When I showed that message was well received, Luke did apologize. He explained he didn't mean to get out of hand, but we both knew how I affected him. So, we avoided each other the past few days. Though it hurt and the awkwardness was intense, I didn't mind too much. Being around him at this point drove my emotions through the roof.

We avoided each other enough that I didn't know he was going to the barbeque until just a few hours ago. Considering the guy voiced not wanting to go, I assumed he wasn't. Hopefully, he will have a good time. He was more of a people person than me. Maybe socializing would get him out of this rut. I sure couldn't. Not yet anyway.

For the days of stress, you can bet I still wasn't sleeping great. Thankfully, adding a little bit of make-up made the difference. My brown eyes popped, the mascara and eyeliner blocking any bags under my eyes. My red hair bounced with my wavy curls, framing my face and running down my back. It contrasted nicely with my green short-sleeved blouse. It dipped and hugged around my breasts before flowing gracefully out down to my black shorts.

After a spray of perfume and pulling out a deadly wedgie, I left the bathroom and headed downstairs. Luke was ready, sitting on the couch and waiting for me. He already got together the dishes we had to prepare. We worked real hard on them. Nobody else was dedicated enough to go to the store, buy potato salad, pour it in a big bowl and call it your own. At least our Jell-O was genuine.

It was a good day, and we would have a good time. Let's leave the drama here. Licking my lips, I rounded the couch and came into his sight. I didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't Luke looking sexy as all hell. I should have known though. While he wasn't enthusiastic about going, he was very polite, social, and wanted to look presentable.

He turned the tables and now I was the one being teased. Eyes trained ahead on the TV, I managed to soak him in. He trimmed his facial hair, highlighting his cheeks and jaw. Wavy hair brushing against his ears and neck, I admired the few loose locks that hung around his face and forehead. It fit perfectly with his light blue button up, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. It showed off his strong and lean body. With black slacks, dress shoes.... Kill me.

"Ready to go?" I asked, hoping my cheeks weren't flaming.

Turning to me, he nodded and turned back to shut the TV off. Just as he grabbed the remote, he did a double take. Eyes returning, he looked me up and down. Refusing to meet my eyes, he looked away. "You look nice," he said, clearing his voice. Turning the TV off, he rose and came to stand before me. Blinking a few times, he met my eyes and offered a tight smile.

"Thank you," I smiled. "You look... really amazing." Did I really say that?

For the first time in what was probably days, I received a genuine reaction. Brows raising, a wide smile reached his lips. That smile... so beautiful, my heart jumped. "Well thank you," he chuckled softly. Searching my eyes for a moment, he swallowed. His smile slowly faded, but at least he seemed in a better mood. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah, let's go," I smiled.

Slipping on my flats, I grabbed my sweatshirt in case it gets chilly. Taking a dish while Luke held the other, we left the house. Let me tell you: perfect day for a barbeque. It was sunny, warm but not hot. Which was nice since Luke and I had to walk a few houses down to get to Grace's.

"You know what sounds amazing?" I asked once we reached the empty small road. Turning left, coming into step beside him, I peeked up to the man.

"What's that?" he asked, pursing his lips as he looked ahead to our destination.

"Food. Dude, I am so fucking hungry," I said. Following his worried eyes, I managed to see a few people houses down. They were in front of Grace's house, standing and chatting.

As we moved closer, the people headed inside. Luke still did not happy. I didn't understand why he decided to come along. He did mention he hated lying, and was afraid of getting caught, but I believed there was more to it.

Reaching the driveway, we could hear muffled voices coming from the backyard. This really was a big neighborhood block party. Time to make a good first impression. Sharing a small smile with the man, we turned and headed up the driveway. Cars were parked along with a few on the lawn.

Continuing forward, we moved up the wide cement porch. Pausing in front of the big white door, we heard voices coming from behind it. Sharing a smile with Luke, I couldn't help but whisper. "Ready, Kyle?" I asked, throwing the reminder out to both of us.

He nodded, giving away nothing. Unlike him, I could tell I was beaming. It was time to start socializing... as Peggy and Kyle. Jesus, I might shit myself, I was excited. I loved leaving Albany behind and focusing on my fictional life. It was relieving and the reason I was looking forward to this.

But... life is a bitch, folks. It's one big fucking bitch.

Just as Luke knocked, the sweatshirt along with my purse slipped from my arm. Both landed between us, the contents of my purse including my phone and wallet on the cement too. Great way to start.

"Wonderful," I scoffed, turning with Luke and staring down at it. More like fucking embarrassing.

It was almost worth it when I heard him chuckle. Plus, Luke helped me pick up my things. We set the dishes down on the cement and crouched down. He scoped up my phone and gum. Left in sight was my wallet, the truck keys, a pen. I snatched them up, tossed them into my bag, then my eyes returned to the ground. There was one thing left: a comb. It landed right next to Luke's shoe. He was apparently too good to pick up anything else though. Leaning forward even more, I grabbed it, put it back in my bag.

Just as I was about to get back to my feet, I glanced up to Luke and stopped. A few feet in front of my face was his frozen one. Still crouched down and facing me, his eyes were fixated and wide, pinned to my neck.

Not moving an inch, his face slowly drained of color. He continued staring at something below my face. What the hell was wrong? Did he just see a ghost? Oh shit. I was on my knees and leaning forward. Did my damn boobs fall out...?

Looking down, not understanding what he was staring at, horror struck. What he was staring at was something I kept hidden for a long time. It was the last thing I wanted Luke to see.

The small and smooth piece of wire I used to hold back my necklace, making it look like a choker, must have broke. Because the one movement, of leaning forward to grab my things, did me in. The loose chain and charm fell forward.

The necklace Luke gave me all those years ago was dangling in sight and right before his eyes.

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It took me a while to upload, but hopefully how long this chapter is made up for it. Please let me know what you think!