Full circle.
A few days after this.
If someone would have shot Michael in the chest and would have left him out to bleed to death, he would have considered that less painful than what he was living through.
Tess was dead. She had to be, after that fall and, if for some reason she hadn't died, Jack surely hadn't bothered to take her somewhere where she'd get the medical attention she needed. So that only left the option that she was dead. It was a reality so raw and so painful that he couldn't bare it.
His grandfather.
Aidan.
Lauren (because she had more or less died to him the day that she had left him).
Eddie.
DJ.
Tess.
The names echoed in his mind relentlessly. Memories haunted him. He could hear his grandfather's voice. He could hear his son's cooing. He could feel Lauren's touch. He could hear Eddie's laugh after a joke. He could see DJ's smile.
And with Tess he'd always hear her scream.
Every. Single. Time.
She had been killed because of him; because she was his girlfriend. Because he loved her. Because he had given himself to her in a way that he never thought he would ever do again to another woman. Because he had been ready to marry her. If he would have kept away she would have been safe; he was a danger to all who he was close to. Even if he did make it he would always be a danger. That risk to someone else.
Was this why Jack hadn't killed him yet? So that he could realize that, once he did put a bullet in his head, it would be a mercy killing?
Maybe it was the grief taking a hold of him. Maybe it was the unbearable pain he was in, both physical and emotional. Maybe it was the lack of food, water and rest that was making him hallucinate. Maybe it was just resignation, but a plan started to form in his head once his mind wasn't so numb. There was a pressure against his chest, a pain so strong and vivid all along his body, but it would all be over soon. That was his only consolation.
He would end it soon, and that was the last thing he would do.
______________________________
It happened when they least expected it.
The good thing about Michael not having anything else to latch on was that he no longer cared what could happen. Before he hadn't tried to make a break for it because, if he would have then they would have surely hurt Tess in whatever way they could so that they could get back at him for it. Now there was no chance for it, and if they were to catch him they could kill him for all he cared.
Actually, he wished and hoped that's what would happen.
With a cold and calculated precision from a mind that no longer felt like his own, Michael waited until the guard that had come to take off the handcuffs so he could eat would lower his guard. They were all starting to get used to him just sitting there numbly - partly an act, partly because that was exactly how he felt - so the guard didn't expect it when Michael disarmed him and shoved the head of the pistol into his mouth as a way to shut him up. It was shift change, that much he knew because he had been paying attention to patterns that could be helpful, and there were very few guards he would have to face.
"Is Jack here?"
His voice was barely above a whisper but it no longer sounded like his own. It sounded as detached from everything as he felt. It sounded far edgier than how he felt, too.
But that didn't matter. Nothing did.
The guard gave a small nod, and Michael recognized that fear in his eyes. He noticed how young the man looked and how, now that he had been stripped from the gun, the arrogance was no longer in his eyes.
A rookie.
Maybe he was supposed to feel remorse. Maybe he was supposed to feel something as he looked into those eyes. Maybe he was supposed to spare him.
He wasn't even surprised anymore when he didn't feel anything once he pulled the trigger.
______________________________
Despite the shift change there were more guards around the place than Michael could have predicted. The commotion the loud gunshot caused was immediate, and at once Michael disarmed the dead guard before making his way out of the room.
He didn't have to get very far, though, to realize that the commotion wasn't because of something he had done. There were yells and gunshots downstairs, and then a voice above all the rest made him stop.
Damian. Damian was finally there.
Except now there was no relief. There was anger; an anger so very strong that he could have sworn that he saw red for a second. He was responsible for Tess being dead, too. He hadn't shown up earlier, he hadn't saved her--
Trying to transfer your guilt onto someone else?
Before he could contemplate that possibility someone was rushing upstairs and before the guard could reach for the gun on his waist Michael aimed and shot the man, who fell back and hit the wall before rolling downstairs.
Right. These two might be warm-up but he needed to get to Jack before Damian could and the voice that suddenly said his name from behind him made him become fully aware of it; for the first time he felt relief.
It would all soon be over.
"So you managed to get out," Jack said with a smirk as he kept his eyes on Michael, gun aimed right at him. He knew he should be out and heading to safety in case Damian made his way upstairs, but this was personal. This was supposed to be between the two of them, and he'd be damned if he was going to run when he had Michael in front of him.
Before either could pull on the trigger, Damian's voice broke through, "Michael, drop the gun. We're here now. Don't ruin your life for this fucker again; we'll take him in."
"Don't you get it?" Jack asked with a wider smirk when he noticed that Michael didn't shoot but seemed to be pulled back from that trance he seemed to be in. "This is between us. He doesn't need you. He--"
But before the next word could formulate on his lips, Michael pulled the trigger and, without even blinking once, he emptied the clip despite what Damian kept saying to get him to stop.
Everything else was a blur. He couldn't hear or understand Damian. He didn't hear the constant gunfire downstairs. Michael just stared at Jack's body on the floor, the pool of blood growing around him, and for the second time in his life envied him. The first time it had been when Michael had been a teenager; when he had wanted everything Jack had. The power, the wealth, the cars, the women. That was what had gotten him into this whole mess in the first place, hadn't it?
And now here he was, envying him again. Because, as he stared at Jack staring blankly up at the ceiling, Michael wished fervently that it was him that was dead.
This battle had been done for a second chance. A new beginning.
Right now all he wanted was the end.
If someone would have shot Michael in the chest and would have left him out to bleed to death, he would have considered that less painful than what he was living through.
Tess was dead. She had to be, after that fall and, if for some reason she hadn't died, Jack surely hadn't bothered to take her somewhere where she'd get the medical attention she needed. So that only left the option that she was dead. It was a reality so raw and so painful that he couldn't bare it.
His grandfather.
Aidan.
Lauren (because she had more or less died to him the day that she had left him).
Eddie.
DJ.
Tess.
The names echoed in his mind relentlessly. Memories haunted him. He could hear his grandfather's voice. He could hear his son's cooing. He could feel Lauren's touch. He could hear Eddie's laugh after a joke. He could see DJ's smile.
And with Tess he'd always hear her scream.
Every. Single. Time.
She had been killed because of him; because she was his girlfriend. Because he loved her. Because he had given himself to her in a way that he never thought he would ever do again to another woman. Because he had been ready to marry her. If he would have kept away she would have been safe; he was a danger to all who he was close to. Even if he did make it he would always be a danger. That risk to someone else.
Was this why Jack hadn't killed him yet? So that he could realize that, once he did put a bullet in his head, it would be a mercy killing?
Maybe it was the grief taking a hold of him. Maybe it was the unbearable pain he was in, both physical and emotional. Maybe it was the lack of food, water and rest that was making him hallucinate. Maybe it was just resignation, but a plan started to form in his head once his mind wasn't so numb. There was a pressure against his chest, a pain so strong and vivid all along his body, but it would all be over soon. That was his only consolation.
He would end it soon, and that was the last thing he would do.
______________________________
It happened when they least expected it.
The good thing about Michael not having anything else to latch on was that he no longer cared what could happen. Before he hadn't tried to make a break for it because, if he would have then they would have surely hurt Tess in whatever way they could so that they could get back at him for it. Now there was no chance for it, and if they were to catch him they could kill him for all he cared.
Actually, he wished and hoped that's what would happen.
With a cold and calculated precision from a mind that no longer felt like his own, Michael waited until the guard that had come to take off the handcuffs so he could eat would lower his guard. They were all starting to get used to him just sitting there numbly - partly an act, partly because that was exactly how he felt - so the guard didn't expect it when Michael disarmed him and shoved the head of the pistol into his mouth as a way to shut him up. It was shift change, that much he knew because he had been paying attention to patterns that could be helpful, and there were very few guards he would have to face.
"Is Jack here?"
His voice was barely above a whisper but it no longer sounded like his own. It sounded as detached from everything as he felt. It sounded far edgier than how he felt, too.
But that didn't matter. Nothing did.
The guard gave a small nod, and Michael recognized that fear in his eyes. He noticed how young the man looked and how, now that he had been stripped from the gun, the arrogance was no longer in his eyes.
A rookie.
Maybe he was supposed to feel remorse. Maybe he was supposed to feel something as he looked into those eyes. Maybe he was supposed to spare him.
He wasn't even surprised anymore when he didn't feel anything once he pulled the trigger.
______________________________
Despite the shift change there were more guards around the place than Michael could have predicted. The commotion the loud gunshot caused was immediate, and at once Michael disarmed the dead guard before making his way out of the room.
He didn't have to get very far, though, to realize that the commotion wasn't because of something he had done. There were yells and gunshots downstairs, and then a voice above all the rest made him stop.
Damian. Damian was finally there.
Except now there was no relief. There was anger; an anger so very strong that he could have sworn that he saw red for a second. He was responsible for Tess being dead, too. He hadn't shown up earlier, he hadn't saved her--
Trying to transfer your guilt onto someone else?
Before he could contemplate that possibility someone was rushing upstairs and before the guard could reach for the gun on his waist Michael aimed and shot the man, who fell back and hit the wall before rolling downstairs.
Right. These two might be warm-up but he needed to get to Jack before Damian could and the voice that suddenly said his name from behind him made him become fully aware of it; for the first time he felt relief.
It would all soon be over.
"So you managed to get out," Jack said with a smirk as he kept his eyes on Michael, gun aimed right at him. He knew he should be out and heading to safety in case Damian made his way upstairs, but this was personal. This was supposed to be between the two of them, and he'd be damned if he was going to run when he had Michael in front of him.
Before either could pull on the trigger, Damian's voice broke through, "Michael, drop the gun. We're here now. Don't ruin your life for this fucker again; we'll take him in."
"Don't you get it?" Jack asked with a wider smirk when he noticed that Michael didn't shoot but seemed to be pulled back from that trance he seemed to be in. "This is between us. He doesn't need you. He--"
But before the next word could formulate on his lips, Michael pulled the trigger and, without even blinking once, he emptied the clip despite what Damian kept saying to get him to stop.
Everything else was a blur. He couldn't hear or understand Damian. He didn't hear the constant gunfire downstairs. Michael just stared at Jack's body on the floor, the pool of blood growing around him, and for the second time in his life envied him. The first time it had been when Michael had been a teenager; when he had wanted everything Jack had. The power, the wealth, the cars, the women. That was what had gotten him into this whole mess in the first place, hadn't it?
And now here he was, envying him again. Because, as he stared at Jack staring blankly up at the ceiling, Michael wished fervently that it was him that was dead.
This battle had been done for a second chance. A new beginning.
Right now all he wanted was the end.