(Untitled)
Beat oughta known somethin' was goin' to happen. He'd gotten too comfortable where he was, too content to let things jus' happen instead of worryin'. The reminder hit him like someone had thrown a brick at him, leavin' him to jus' stare numbly at the thing he found at the foot of his bed.
The pin was exactly how he remembered it. Hanekoma had done ( Read more... )
The pin was exactly how he remembered it. Hanekoma had done ( Read more... )
Out on the beach, where she wound up sooner or later most days, she was wandering aimlessly, barefoot through the sand. She'd successfully set aside all worries and cares, determinedly cheerful, until she spotted him, sitting not much further up the beach. Walking quickly toward him at first, she soon slowed and then stopped, hanging a few feet back, uncertainty bringing her relief to a crashing halt. "Beat?"
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"Yo," he finally managed out, though he didn't look over at her. He'd tried to sound put together, but even he knew he'd failed at that real quick.
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Closing the last few feet, she dropped down beside him, laying a hand on his arm and a kiss on his cheek without stopping to think about it. With her chin on his shoulder, she bit her lip, falling quiet for a few moments. "What's wrong?" she asked finally. The silence shouldn't have felt so heavy, not with the sound of waves still evident nearby.
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"Island's messin' with me real good," he said, voice soundin' hoarse as he looked down at the pin again. It occurred to him only then that she didn't know any of what happened at all, or why he be upset 'bout what he was carryin'. At the time, keepin' her in the dark 'bout the things he'd done had been a good idea. Now he had no choice, not really, an' all he could think was that he'd have to deal with her lookin' down on him, too. Takin' a deep breath, he kept his eyes on the pin in his hand an' not at her. "There's...there's a lot I ain't been tellin' you, Serena. Ain't good stuff, neither."
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"I shoulda told you earlier," he said, feelin' guilty 'bout that now, too. He'd kept everythin' bottled up so log that it all seemed overwhelmin' now, an' he knew that was his own doin'. "Back home, me an' Rhyme...we was dead, Serena, an' that was my fault. That jus' wasn't the end of it."
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"What?" she asked, finding her words again, as dull as they came out. "I don't - you're not -" She stopped herself, shook her head like that could make her thoughts come together clearly. She took in a gasp of a breath. "I don't understand."
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"Got in a fight with the folks that day," he said, quietly, bitin' his lip an' pausin' before he continued. "Ran out, like normal, an' Rhyme followed me, jus' like she always did. She always - always knew how to calm me down. Only this time -"
He trailed off, almost not wantin' to continue. It was replayin' in his mind, then, over an' over, like a loop he couldn't get out of.
"She hadn't seen the car, but I did. An' I tried to push her outta the way, but it was too late," he finished, voice gettin' to be only jus' above a whisper. "Think it got us on impact. We didn't go up to...I dunno, wherever you'd think you go when that kinda shit happened. That's where all the real bad stuff started, man."
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She gripped his hand all the more tightly, unable to stop shaking her head, like she could make it untrue just by insisting. It had worked for her before, time and time again. She needed it to work now. When her voice finally made its way past the lump in her throat, it was too weak, too high. "No," she said, "no, you - how - how is that not the real bad stuff?" She was on the verge of panic now, the truth of it setting in, unshakable.
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"It wasn't the end," he said, sighin'. This - this was the hard part to explain, 'cause even he didn't really know that much 'bout it. "Woke up a while later, an'...I guess I was a ghost? I dunno, man. Apparently me an' Rhyme were put in some kinda crazy game, where if we survived it, we could live again. Only that meant we were bein' hunted like animals, an' all the while, Rhyme ain't got no memory of me, neither. I didn't have it in me to tell her 'bout what she forgot."
That was, mostly, a lie. He hadn't told her 'cause he hadn't wanted to deal with it, didn't wanna see her look all clueless as he told her 'bout the life she was forgettin'. It was easier for him to act like they was friends an' that was it. He regretted the decision since then.
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He was dead. Rhyme was dead. She didn't know what she'd do, how she'd keep going, if Eric ever forgot, if Eric ever died. She'd never survive being hunted - like Ilse, maybe - but Beat was tougher than she was, so much more so, and he could have made it out. What did that mean if he disappeared? What did he go back to? She couldn't think about the car. She couldn't not think about it. He had diedHer hands fell to her lap, then moved to him, arms wrapping around him as she leaned her head forward. There was, already, the prickling of tears, but she closed her eyes to fight them off. He'd dealt with ( ... )
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"I dunno," he admitted, quietly, as he slid away enough to look at her. "It...it was rough. There were people - Reapers - they were doin' the huntin'. You get killed, you get erased. Me and Rhyme hadda do a buncha tasks so that didn't happen, so the game'd keep goin'. It was goin' aight for a while, an' Rhyme an' I even met up with another team an' kinda worked with them, but..."
He hadda trail off there, gain his bearin's. It was still replayin' in his head, over an' over, an' he almost felt sick to his stomach. It hadn't supposed to end that way.
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She kept her head turned down, not ready to meet his eyes yet. The last thing they both needed was for her to allow her panic to overtake her completely, and she didn't know if she could hold it together for long if she looked up now. "But something happened," she said, nearly a whisper.
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He knew he was makin' no sense. It was hard to say it outloud - probably was why he'd never talked about it before on the island. "I didn't see it but she did. All of a sudden, she jus' pushed me, an' I heard the roar, an' - it happened so fast, man. One minute she was there, next she was gone. Erased right in front of me, man, took the hit even when I woulda deserved it happenin' to me."
He couldn't even do nothin' afterwards, powerless both 'cause of the loss of a partner as well as his own emotions stunnin' him where he stood. Hanekoma hadda near drag him off for him to get movin', or her death woulda been in vain on top of everythin' else.
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Just the idea of it made her hurt for him. It was too easy to put herself in his place, at least in spirit. She'd always felt the same way about Eric, knowing that he was smarter and more sensible, guilty for letting him always protect her, for always letting him down. The memory of that phone call a year and a half before, the one that had brought her back from Connecticut with the news that Eric had tried to kill himself, was still painfully vivid. She didn't think she would have been able to go on if he'd succeeded. Reaching out, she took Beat's hand again, holding tight. "I'm so sorry," she murmured. "That's terrible."
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