His heart felt like it was going to burst from the pain, stress, and emptiness.

But he just had to endure this a little longer.

No. That wasn't true. Saying goodbye wasn't going to make things easier, quite the contrary.

Because despite what Christina said, despite what she wanted to believe, just like everyone else, this goodbye would be a permanent one. If he left, there would be no turning back. Even aware of that, he wouldn't change his mind.

Even if it could be so easily avoided. Even though everyone, Abigail included, was telling him not to. So he had no right to express his feelings of sadness and act like a victim, when in fact he was the one attacking everyone. But... how could he help it? How was he going to be able to bury his feelings, even if they were like hypocrisy?

It was something that was beyond his capabilities and he didn't want to do it in the first place.

Desmond wasn't crying.

He wasn't holding back, but he wasn't crying.

He felt a great emptiness in his chest. He felt as if his heart was slowly being crushed. That was it. All of it? He supposed it was a sign of the worst pain of all. When you couldn't even cry or make the slightest sound.

Finally they broke apart, the embrace broke, oh, if only it was the embrace.

It was all over.

He knew it was.

And all the good ended, but the bad remained like a scar that never healed. Sometimes it would sink into the heart and it might seem like it was gone, but sooner or later it would resurface.

The bad never goes away. He was never, ever going to be able to forget this.

Forget them.

Or forgive himself.

Never.

Desmond swallowed.

"You say that like you've changed your mind."

It was true.

A sudden change of heart, for no reason. It would be strange if she had really changed that much.

But maybe, no, surely that hadn't been the best thing he could have said.

Desmond recognized it when he saw the change in Christina's expression.

If that hadn't made it clear enough to him, her words left him no room for doubt.

"What else do you want me to do? Kneel down and beg you not to leave? And I'd even do it, except that I'm sure even that wouldn't be enough to change your mind, sadly."

Desmond was speechless.

There were no words for that, no, of course not.

"I have no choice other than accepting the inevitable, no matter how much it weighs on me. And hope for the best. As much as I'm not built that way. As much as optimism goes against my natural instincts."

"I'm sorry."

"You're not."

"Christina... "Amy protested, quietly.

"I know. I don't want to make what could possibly be our last moment together any more bitter than it already is. I wasn't criticizing you, Desmond. You're not sorry. Not really. And that's... fine." She sighed. "I guess if I were you, I wouldn't be able to back down either."

"That doesn't make it any better."

"You're right. It doesn't," she denied simply.

Christina looked away.

He could see the tears in her eyes, not yet shed.

He could see the tears that had been shed, glistening on her cheeks.

And he could see the pain.

He could see the light in her eyes fogged up. And it hurts.

All of it hurt like he had never thought anything would hurt.

"Actually, there is one thing," Amy said. "Stay. Not forever, not if you don't want to, but stay for tonight. Get some sleep. And if in the morning you feel the same way.... I won't object. You can at least do that, can't you?"

Desmond opened his mouth to say something like he couldn't wait.

Like a single wasted second was absolutely unforgivable.

However, he didn't say anything. He didn't see himself able to say anything.

Just look into her eyes.

He stopped thinking.

"If it's okay with Christina...." His answer caught even himself by surprise, but in reality it shouldn't have been a surprise at all.

"Of course it's okay with me, you idiot," Christina said.

She was still looking away from him and blushing.

She doubted either of them would be able to sleep a wink tonight. He, especially.

Doubtful that a few hours of sleep, even if he got it, could change his mind, and he didn't want to give them false hope.

Still...

It wouldn't hurt. A few hours wouldn't do any harm either.

So he made his decision.

"All right, then," said Desmond.

Predictably, he was unable to fall asleep.

He assumed the same went for Amy and Christina. However, they weren't saying anything, at least they were trying to. He wasn't going to disturb their attempts by being the first to open his mouth.

Besides, there was nothing to say.

Not really. Everything he could say had already been said before.

Now all that was left was... What?

Memories. Regrets. He hadn't left yet, but already he had the feeling that he was living in a memory.

That this, all of this, wasn't real.

Or further still, that it never had been.

That from the beginning he had been dreaming and now it was time to wake up, that was all. No more and no less than that.

It was an unpleasant thought. Accompanied by even more unpleasant sensations.

Desmond continued to float in the darkness, silently, trapped in a cage of his own thoughts.

Until that cycle, that endless spiral, was broken.

Amy had climbed out of her bed.

Just like him not so long ago. But unlike him, she didn't walk out the door, going who knows where.

Instead, she walked over to his bed.

She knelt down beside the bed.

"Desmond, are you awake?" It was a question, but it didn't sound much like a question, really.

His eyes were closed, but something, probably his breathing, had given him away. He opened his eyes.

"I can't sleep. What's wrong?" he asked quietly, so as not to wake Christina. Well, even if she was awake like them, better not to disturb her too much and whisper.

"You'll see, this is going to sound weird." She laughed almost inaudibly "Very weird. But... Can I sleep with you?"

"Huh?"

He had never imagined that a girl would ask him a question like that. Let alone Amy, and all of a sudden.

He'd heard wrong, hadn't he? He must have heard wrong.

"I just... I can't sleep, thinking about... so many things. Tomorrow you're going away and... I'd like to do it at least once. You know, like a sleepover. Friend stuff."

Sleepover wasn't the best way to put it, he thought.

Because in the strictest sense of the term, he believed, they already had sleepovers every night.

But in any case that was the least of it.

Put like that, her request didn't seem as outrageous as it had at first. However...

"It's not that I think it's bad exactly. But it's just that we're, you know, boy and girl. Wouldn't it be... weird?"

He felt incredibly stupid.

No, he was incredibly stupid, that was for sure.

But he shouldn't have to explain something like that to her. He didn't know how she had suggested sleeping in the same bed like it was nothing.

As if they were small children, not yet aware of the opposite sex.

Of that sort of thing, in general.

"I'm not normal," Amy said, in an even quieter, almost inaudible voice.

Desmond blinked in confusion. And almost offended, but he couldn't be angry since she had said it herself and not someone else.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I like girls. Not boys," she said reluctantly.

Oh.

So that's what it was all about.

He wasn't aware of the opposite sex, but of his own sex.

"Still, I understand if you don't want to do it because you do...you know. But I would like to."

"It's okay."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. I don't look at you that way. I mean, don't get me wrong, you're very pretty. But you're like my family. It would be weird."

Not like.

Desmond didn't have any family, but Christina, Amy and Abigail were the closest thing he had to family.

No...

Abigail was his mother, Christina and Amy his sisters.

What did it matter that they didn't share the same blood?

It didn't make any difference. It hadn't stopped him from referring to Abigail as mom on many occasions.

The bond he shared with his teammates had no better name.

He made room for Amy, pulling back the sheets. Amy took that space.

It's going to be kind of weird, anyway, he thought.

And even more so in the morning, when Christina wakes up.

But honestly, he'd rather put that aside until he had no choice but to deal with it. Desmond had more than enough worries on his mind as it was. Amy lay down on the bed beside him, without hesitation pressed herself against him and used his arms as a pillow.

She was a lesbian, but she was still acting too nonchalantly...

And was that so bad? Weren't there times to act carefree? Was it always bad? He couldn't say that. It might as well be the last night they spent together. He understood that it would help her to feel him close and that she wanted to. Him too. By having her close, he instantly relaxed more.

Not completely, miracles didn't exist, but a lot.

Maybe I'll be able to sleep after all, Desmond thought.

"You don't mind?" Amy asked. "What I am."

"Why do you say that? Some people are straight, some aren't. Why does it matter?"

"You're right. It doesn't matter. But not everyone shares the same opinion."

"You..."

"Me?"

"No, I was going to say something. The first thing that popped into my head. Something insensitive. Better I shut up."

"Say it. Don't feel the need to keep quiet. After all..."

However, she fell silent.

She didn't know how to continue, she swallowed hard. Her expression twisted because of the shadow of sadness, which had resurfaced.

"That man. You mean that man?"

It took Amy a while to realize who she meant.

"No. He never knew. If he had known, I'm sure he wouldn't have liked it. But he died without knowing."

"I see. So..."

Amy shrugged.

"I spoke in general, Desmond. Some people don't listen to reason. Don't care about reasons, just their emotions, their prejudices. Haven't you seen it before?"

"Well, I... I haven't really mixed with people much until recently. I don't know what's normal and what's not. I'm sorry about that."

"Why are you apologizing? That's what makes you one of the best people I know. That you're... just you, and fuck everything else. Get it?"

"More or less," Desmond confessed.

To be honest, it was less than more. But at least he thought he knew where she was going.

"Well, that's good enough for me."

Amy closed her eyes. She pressed herself tighter against him, settling in.

She had no qualms, it was true.

Desmond shouldn't have them either.

There was nothing wrong with this. In fact, at the same time it was relaxing...it was making him want to cry.

I want to stay, Desmond thought.

But, from the moment Abigail had been captured, that ceased to be possible.

Desmond closed his eyes as well.

Sinking into a deep, deep sleep from which he prayed he wouldn't wake up.

But, like every day, morning came.

Morning came all too quickly. Mercilessly.

The time had come. Desmond looked at both of them in the rational sunlight. Nothing had changed inside his heart. Not one iota.

Maybe they knew that just by looking at him, but Christina asked the question anyway.

It hurt him to say no, once again.

It hurt him to see that spark of hope disappear from her face, the way her face seemed to change irrevocably. But it had to be done.

It was bad enough that he had stayed through the night, giving them false hope that he would come to his senses.

It had been good and bad, at the same time. Not all bad.

Desmond could admit that much at least.

Christina passed him a plastic bag. It was quite heavy, and no wonder, since it was filled to the brim. Anyone would think it would explode at any moment.

Desmond wasn't exaggerating, but being honest.

He wasn't in the kind of mood that would make him exaggerate a bit for some cheap comedy.

He wasn't in any mood, really.

Empty.

No sadness, no happiness.

No despair, no elation. Desmond was just... empty.

As if he had run dry the night before.

"Some food for the road," Christina told him, by way of explanation, perhaps as she saw him look vacantly at that bag as if he didn't understand what he was holding in his hands. "It won't last you as long as you'll need, that's for sure. But it's something."

Her voice was monotone. As if he was trying hard to keep any trace of emotion out of his voice.

"Thank you," Desmond said.

Sure it sounded just as monotone from her, though, not because he' d done it on purpose.

"How are you doing financially?" Christina asked.

"Well, I've got some saved up." It was true.

Not enough to replace his sword, if it had been lost and broken on the day of the attack, as he had feared. Swords of that quality weren't cheap, exactly.

But it should be enough money to help him get as far as he had to go.

And if he had to skip a few meals, well, it wouldn't be the first time he'd gone hungry.

Desmond could handle it.

"You don't sound very confident," Amy said.

You had to point that out, huh?

"Well..."

"I'll see to it that you're allowed to take money out of my account whenever you want."

"You don't have to do that," Desmond replied, startled.

"I don't need to do that? You're my teammate. What good is my fortune if I don't use it to help the people I care about?""

At her sheer honesty, Desmond could do nothing but nod his head.

And say thank you.

Desmond had too much to be thankful for. Both of them.

He would probably become speechless before he could thank them for everything.

Desmond bit his lower lip, lowering his head.

He lifted his head, his gaze sliding between the two of them. He felt the need to say something. What could he say that hadn't already been said last night? Words left much to be desired.

They were but shadows from the unfathomable depths of the heart.

Yet something had to be said.

However insignificant it might be, even if it did not convey even half of what it was meant to convey. So Desmond, in the end, resorted to simplicity.

"Sorry."

And a sweet lie.

"See you again."

"Good luck on your journey," said Amy.

Christina, on the other hand, remained silent. Looking at the ground and not at him, even.

He stared at her sadly, waiting for her to raise her head, to look at him, to say something. It didn't happen.

Yes. I guess everything that needs to be said has already been said.

Desmond put the bag inside the backpack (that, at least, he had seen to himself). He slung it on his back, turned and headed for the door.

As he put his hand on the knob, Christina's voice rose.

Desmond stopped, didn't turn around.

"Okay, you win."

What did she mean? He looked at her questioningly.

Her head was up, her eyes boring into him like a pair of knives. Her violet eyes reminded him of the evening sky.

A storm is coming, he thought.

Christina got down on her knees in front of him.

"What?"

"I beg you, don't go. Don't do this to us. Not to you, not to us."

Desmond was overcome by the emotion in her voice. He swallowed, feeling as if something was stuck in his throat.

"I'm sorry. But I have to..."

Christina lunged forward.

She put one hand on his waist, squeezing tightly, with the other she grabbed his shirt, rolling it into a ball.

"Please. What else do you want me to do?"

"It's not about that." His voice trembled.

"I'll do anything! Why don't you understand what you're doing?"

Desmond jerked back, breaking free of her grip. The impact of his back against the door echoed loudly in his ears.

It was almost like a gun being fired, the impact of that sound.

And how it was left hanging in the air.

"I'm sorry, I can't. I can't do anything else. I'm sorry."

Christina fell silent. She hung her head.

Just when he thought her energy was spent, that shewouldn't say anything anymore....

"All right!

She exploded like a bomb. Christina's hair fluttered around her head. Her chest rose and fell to the rhythm of irregular, violent breathing.

"But don't go back through that door, do you understand?"

Never had he heard her so full of rage.

So full of... of nothing, really. An emotion this intense, without hiding anything, that was 'written' all over her body.

He had never thought he would see her like this.

He wished he hadn't.

It hurt.

It hurt too much.

"I don't even want to see your face!"

That was like a punch.

Not even in a metaphorical sense. If it weren't for the fact that his back was touching the door, that punch would have made him collapse.

"I... I..."

"Get out of here! "Christina was waving her hands wildly. "If you want to leave so badly, get out! Get the fuck out!"

"I'm sorry," he said, barely whispering.

Desmond closed the door.

That sound echoed inside the dark room where, from now on, there would always be one less person.

As she watched him leave, the crazy energy that had filled her entire body left her as suddenly as it had come, leaving no trace behind.

Christina hid her face in her hands, trembling.

Silence.

The silence and the darkness were getting very heavy.

"Amy... He'll know I didn't mean it, won't he, that I didn't want...?"

Amy knelt down in front of her.

Her friend wrapped her in a tight embrace.

"I'm sure he will," she said, stroking her back.

Christina finally burst into uncontrollable tears.

Far away from the academy now, but not far enough to not see it on the horizon if he turned around, Desmond had to stop.

He put a hand to his face, covering it.

And he wept bitterly, trembling, alone, silent.

The long road ahead was dark and lonely like never before.