1Author's Note: When I blackmailed Trivial Queen into turning the three Snippets 'Fall', 'Sound', and 'Distance' into a fic, she asked me to write a fic as well, using the same snippets to a different... feeling to it, I guess. I decided to take her up on that. Anything that belongs to Trivial Queen is in bold. For those of you who know the song, my inspiration comes from 'What Hurts the Most' by Rascal Flatts. If that means anything to you, you'll have insight into this fic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Sophie~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sophie?" He says my name in that voice. The one that makes me weak in the knees, that makes me want to turn around and run to him. But I don't. I'm standing here, my back to my team... my family, and I'm thinking about staying.

I want to stay. I want so badly to stay.

But that's exactly why I should go. Because it hurts, literally hurts to stand here and hold myself back. I can't breathe, and I'm not in control of the tears in my eyes. I don't know what to do anymore. My head is screaming at me to leave, to run away and never come back. My heart is telling me that if I leave now, that's it. I'll never hear his voice again, never get to tease him on a job again, never get to see him lose his train of thought when I do something particularly shameless again. I'll never see him again, never see those eyes again. I don't know if I can handle that.

I don't know how to explain how I feel about him. I hate him. I hate him for destroying himself, and for taking our team down with him. I hate him for making me love him. For making me unable to do more some nights than sit up and dream about the old days when he was unavailable. I hated Maggie back then. I would have hated Sam too if the child wasn't so bloody loveable. Just like his father, the boy had me around his pinky finger as soon as he turned those icy blue eyes on me. Nate thinks that I've got him in the palm of my hand, but he's wrong.

I say jump, and he asks me why.

He says jump, and I bust out the trampoline so I can get extra height to my jump.

I love him. I hate him, but I love him, and I don't know which of the extremes is stronger.

"Sophie? Are you coming?" Nate asks. I don't answer. I don't know. I'm a thief. When we get too attached, we walk away. But the rest of them want to stick around. We're the exceptions. The thieves who really started to care for each other, and I do. I love them all, in a different way than I love him though. It's not fair.

Of all the theaters in all the world he walked into mine that autumn night. Walked in and offered to play my game. And I began to fall.

But he's a drunk, a closed off drunk. He truly cares for me; I can see it in the moments before the Scotch dulls his eyes and senses.

He's shutting us out, self destructing before our eyes. I can try to love him, help him – save him, but I can't. I'm still just a criminal.

Fuck it.

Fuck you Emotionally Unavailable Guy.

I love you, but I've got to love myself more.

I turn around, and he smiles at me, and my resolve almost gives out then and there. "You're coming." It's not a question.

I answer it anyway. "No. I'm not. I can't do this anymore Nate. I've sat by and watched you destroy yourself for long enough. I'm not doing it anymore. I'm not going to help you pick up all the pieces." My voice breaks, and there are tears in my eyes. God, please don't make me go. I don't want to go. I love him, and I want to help him, to protect him, even if it's from himself. Please let me stay. I can love him from far away if I have to. Just don't make me go. Please. "I'm not coming back."