A/N: Oh looky! A drabble! And one for marialisia, nonetheless, but only cause she asked very nicely…
It's 2 a.m.
It's 2 a.m. and I'm still awake. It's been maybe 26 hours since I last slept, but I'm not going back to sleep until she wakes up, until I know for sure my latest mistake can be unraveled.
Until she tells me what the hell was she thinking, taking a bullet with my name on it, on my behalf. It shoulda be me in that hospital bed. Me, not her. I'm the one who's supposed to go down in a blaze of glory, that's supposed to be my destiny. It skips a generation, you see. My great great-grandfather died in the line of duty, my grandpa was gunned down mid street, I'm the one to go next.
I remember I told her once my theory. It was one of those days that seemed to drag on forever; a day when, at the end of the shift the only logical thing to do is get wasted; when after your third drink you look down at the glass in your hand and a small part of you wishes you hadn't been sober since maybe October… or September… of the previous year.
I remember she laughed at me when I told her. I remember she asked me if I was serious or if I was pulling her leg. I remember thinking she always looks so beautiful when she smiles that it makes me want to hold her, but I didn't tell her that.
She told me that people aren't like cable cars, that we don't have a "fixed" track set in our lives, and that we aren't incapable of setting our own set of rules. She told me she didn't believe in that kind of crap and that neither should I. Then she added that, if it were true, I was going to be around for a while still, because I didn't have a son to pass the legacy unto yet.
I had to admit she had a point. I told her my sisters had already made me an uncle and she told me it didn't count because neither one of my nephews was a Flack… not legally, at least. So either the theory of one Flack going down at gun point in the line of duty was wrong, and my non-Flack nephews will have to pass it on without me, or it was simply an urban legend spun on behalf of my family. I have to admit to not knowing what to say to that.
It's 2 am and I'm still sitting here. There's a whole parade walking up and down the corridors and you wouldn't believe how late (or how early, depending which side of the hourglass you chose to sit in) it was just by looking at them. Doctors, nurses, relatives, significant others… never ending loop of good news and prayers and bad news and grief.
But for her, I'm the only one here, cradling my head in desperation and impatience and sorrow mixed with guilt and everything inside of me is threatening my life and at the moment it feels more real that the bullet that was meant for me and ended up in her, and I'm choking on it, drowning on it and I have to actually force myself to breathe, cause I've forgotten how to do it, and the people around me are staring at me with accusing eyes and I don't understand how it can be since they're all here for the very same reasons I am and they ought to be more understanding and I ought to be more in control and….
And then I realize there's a nurse standing right in front of me, telling me she's woken up and I can't remember if I thanked her or not in my haste to get in that room and see for myself that she's okay and that life is back on track and that now I could kill her for having done something so stupid and I can pretend to be righteously angry at her and she won't buy it for a second and everything will be normal again.
I walk into the room and I see her laying in that hospital bed and my heart once more threatens to flip out of my mouth and my guilt crushes my insides cause she's looking so small and fragile and it's all my fault. But then she looks at me and I feel like I'm standing here naked in front of her and she can see right through me and she's going to be mad at me for letting something like this happen to her and she'll never ever want to work with me again, be near me again, not ever again… and I'm searching like a madman for a rewind button somewhere, anywhere, so that everything gets magically erased and I don't get to loose her…
And then she smiles at me and everything is forgotten in a flash, and I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel and I feel that the past is erased and now we can truly, truly look forward to moving ahead, certain we won't be making the same mistakes again.
She greets me in a weak, yet cheerful voice and I can't stop the smile from spreading wide in my face and lighting up my eyes and I'll know she'll never believe I'm angry at her so I won't even attempt to go in there, cause it's not even worth it anymore.
I answer back and her smile grows stronger and the beat of my heart does as well, cause now I know she knows for sure I'm not mad at her and I can see the relief written all over her face.
"Okay, Monroe, tell me again why it is you think that you can beat me at Monopoly?"
A/N: I've been obsessing over this song for a couple of months now. It finally gave up and gave in to temptation. Extra chocolate chip cookie for those of you who can tell me what song it is…