Title: Shattered Dream
Summary: A single moment can change your life.
Code: Short
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't claim ownership of these characters, they are not mine. No infringement intended.
Notes: The scene from the movie that really did it for me was when Jason burned all Marie's pictures and IDs. I was saying, "Don't burn the picture!" when he almost tossed that significant one. I was so glad he didn't.
10 January 2007 - after reading The Bourne Supremacy and The Bourne Ultimatum, I've decided to do a polish up. It's not a huge. Just a thought, here and there.

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If I could rewind the last ten years my life and start over - I'd do it in a heartbeat. I should have never joined Treadstone, become Jason Bourne, or dragged Marie into my web of lies, fear, death and the black hole that is my past. I should have been behind the wheel instead of her. I should have been more cautious. I should have never gotten into her car, in Zurich, three years ago. But you know, crazy and self-centered as it sounds - that moment - I wouldn't take back or trade for anything. Because for time I did share with Marie, nothing this world can offer even comes close.

"Yes, you do have a choice."

I searched her eyes. Those unwavering, honest and deep brown eyes. She could always see right through me. She could make me squirm, like no seasoned interrogator could. Try as I might, I can never avoid her stare. It was because it was love, not judgment in her eyes.

My past didn't matter to her. She accepted the present as a consequence, without caring about my past sins. She's patient beyond belief. I get aggravated and pissed off that I can't remember. I hate myself for what I used to be. For the way we have to live now; off-the-grid, always looking over our shoulder, always restless.

I would have ditched me long ago, if I were her. I'm so grateful she's not like me. Just seeing her smile... I thank God everyday that she crossed my path.

Maybe, we can run. If we find a place remote enough, with no U.S. presence...

There's a sound of glass breaking and not even a split second passes and we crash through the bridge barrier, and hurtle toward the water.

For that one moment, when she made me think about the choice I did have - I forgot the reason we were on the run. I forgot that she was driving, and I let the guy pursuing us slip my mind. For that one moment, I made a mistake. I wasn't looking at our surroundings, I was looking at her.

I didn't see the blood on her skin. I didn't want to. I stared into her eyes. They weren't focused on me anymore. They were closed. As water pooled around us, I struggled with her door. With every passing second, I saw our life ebbing away. After Paris, there was no going back for me. With every year that passed - it just compounded it. Not seeing her in bed beside me, never crossed my mind.

Her body feels weightless, as I pull her free from the car. She's not responding. I mould her jaw and clutch her close. 'Come on, Marie. Breathe.'

My head told me it was over, long before I felt for a pulse. Jason Bourne, the assasin, the man who can function like a leathal machine, is saying get out. "Swim away, hold your breath and keep below the surface, she's already gone." But there's anothre voice. He's the man she brought out of the depths of my screwed up psyche. He needs her. He loves her. He still has faith. "She's still with you. Get her out. You can find help."

I breathe into her mouth again, and search her face once more. 'Come on Marie, you're stronger than this. We can make it.' I refuse to believe it. She's not dead. My chest aches. From the lack of oxygen or the pain of losing her, take your pick.

It doesn't matter what happens now. It's over. He forces me to let go. My fingers release her body from my white-knuckled grasp. Jason Bourne is a survivor and he's itching to move. My heart pounds in my chest as I watch the river's current pull her away from me. Drifting slowly, her hair forms a shadowy cloud about her head. She was my saving grace. And they took her from me.

For what seems like forever, I watch her. The expanse between us grows, as does the stabbing sensations in my heart.

I want to ignore the taunting words, that echo in my head. "You killed her." Part of me knows it's true. I was selfish enough to keep her close. I knew the risks, whether she'd admit it or not, she didn't.

Gritting my teeth, I turn my back on her and begin to swim.

'Forgive me, Marie.'