Doug: We have a dance...

Cigarette smoke surrounds his head; in better light it would look like a halo, here it just looks like a the cloud that hangs over a battlefield after the fact, stinking of death and decay. The man with the earth brown eyes smashes out the expended cig, fishing in his pocket for another one at the same time. After bringing it to his lips I extend my lighter, obliging him.

He takes a long drag and exhales, sounding relieved. "The best pull is the first." He tells me, brown eyes begging to convey the importance of this seemingly insignificant fact. "This..." he indicates the cigarette in his hand,"Is like life. the beginning is sweet, delicious. the end is bitter, and comes too soon."

What was left of my optimism tried to disagree, but the evidence to the contrary was so strong that I just told it to shut up. It's arguements were a sieve, and I was tired of shoveling sand into it.

"Why are you here?" he asks, indicating our surroundings. Red satin sheets decorated the windows ragged in the age, and decrepit couches adorned the walls, leaving a big open area in the middle. The room stank of old cigarette smoke and cheap purfume. The lighting is dim, and does nothing to cheer the place.

Not that I was in the mood for cheering.

"I... Have to know something." I spoke for the first time. He seemed startled by my voice. I will admit, it didn't sound like it usually did. Ragged, torn up with a combination of self hatred and longing.

He recovred quickly. His thick Russian accent making itself known. "How very complicated. I am here to get laid." he chortled. Then with the seeming bipolarity that all Russians I knew posessed he shouted at the girl fluffing pillows across the room. "Get us some vodka bitch! Can't you see this man needs a drink?" As she passed he slapped her ass viciously. To her credit, she didn't say a word. He then turned to me. "Let me tell you something, cigarette?" I shook my head, eyes straight ahead at the door I knew my doom would come through soon. "What you can't solve with a cigarette, you can solve with Vodka."

That got through my veneer. My mouth twisted in a parody of a half smile, grim even to my imagining.

"Ah, a smile! Excellent." The vodka arrived. "Thank you, bitch." he patted her fanny more gently this time, and she smiled indulgently, like a dog given a treat. "Drink. Drink to your health, mine has certainly deteriorated past repair."

Again I couldn't disagree with him. I didn't drink, except to the Corps, and then only rarely, so I turned down the drink. He had other ideas though.

"No. Drink." He shoved the shot glass into my hand, filling his. "To your health."

He kicked it back with no signs of effort. I dumped my in a plant. So much for the plant's health.

"Mr. Koralev?" A soprano voice from the door I had been watching. I knew that voice. "Mrs. Dimitrov is ready for you now."

"Excellent." He hauled his corpulent form to its feet. "I am in need of some cheering up, this man's mood has affected me." He indicated me. I didn't bother to respond, just stared at the girl, stared, now knowing what I came here to know.

***

He was here. He had followed me. I didn't think he would. I had hoped against hope that he wouldn't find me in this gods forsaken hellhole, that he'd just give up, and leave me forsaken, like I knew I was.

Like he now knew I was.

I could watch his eyes change from horror to anger, anger to something else, something I couldn't identify at first. I suddenly realized it was the look he had after he came back, shutting himself down to keep away from the pain. I had to stop that, I had to... Then his eyes died, and I felt something inside me shatter.

He stood up just as my legs gave out. I was lucky the Russian had already disappeared, from what Mary said, torture was better than attracting his brutal attention. Not that I cared, all that mattered was the dead eyes burning holes in my soul from across the room.

"Daniel-" I tired to speak but choked off as he turned away.

"Don't talk to me." His voice was the same, but cold in a way it had never been to me before. He paused though, at the door. "I had hoped it wasn't true." voice as dead as the eyes.

A sob escaped my throat. My body was betraying me. I could lie to customers, why not him? "I love you." I managed to whisper.

***

Hot red anger coursed through me. I'd thought my soul was dead but this new betrayal created agony I had previously thought impossible. Before I knew it I was across the room, pinning her against the wall by her throat.

"Don't. Don't you dare say that. Whore." I spat the words in her face.

"Please." She whispered. I was choking the life out of her.

I dropped her, realizing what my traitorous hands had done. What my traitorous mouth had said. What line I had crossed. Reflexes had kicked in. I had wanted to kill, my body reacted.

The horrors of being a human weapon.

She was coughing horribly. I knew if I hadn't gotten in control faster she would have expired. I knelt down. "Are you okay?" Why did I care?

***

He cared. That's all I could think. Then the black around the edges of my sight swallowed me.

***

"She's in a coma. What the fuck did you do to her?" The doctor was talking.

"I don't know. Something trained into me in basic."

"Marines?"

"Yeah."

"Rough ticket." The doc lit up. Is everyone in this miserable city addicted?

"Will she..?" I trailed off.

"Can't say. There's some brain activity. That's good news, but... I don't know."

"You're a shitty doctor."

"You're a shitty boyfriend. I should get the domestic abuse counsler down here."

"She's not my girlfriend, she's a whore."

"The police then."

I sighed, and rested my head against the wall. Closing my eyes, wanting to die. "Call 'em both. She's my whore girlfriend."

"How's that work?"

"I didn't know she was a whore. Found out. Got angry."

Long silence. "I'll leave you alone kid."

I didn't bother to answer him. I was busy answering myself.

Why did I save her? 'Because you didn't want her to die.' the voice in my head said.

True. Why?

'Because you still care. Even after she did this to you.'

She killed me inside. I'm just a shell now.

'So is she.'

I slammed my fist against the wall in frustration. She betrayed me. Me, lied to me. Left me to find her in that hole. Why did she leave me?

'Maybe she didn't have a choice.'

The figure on the bed moaned.

"Doc!" I yelled, racing for the bed.

***

I opened my eyes to his face. "Daniel." The word sounded mushy, jumbled up.

"Shhh, it's okay, don't try to talk." he reached out, then snatched his hand back as though he'd been burned. I could feel a single tear escape my eye.

He saw it and reached out again, not heasitating this time, scooping it up with his finger.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. "They said they'd kill you."

"They tried anyway." He growled.

She looked more horrified, if possible. "They said..."

"They lied. Guess they knew I'd come after you. Even after you betrayed me."

I turned away at that. He couldn't have held her eyes anyway. I could tell he had been hoping it wasn't me, but I was done lying to him.

"I couldn't stand the thought of you being out of this world, even if I couldn't have you." she said to the wall. "They used that to it's fullest extent."

Neither of us said anything for a while. Then I heard something I'd never heard before. It sounded like he was choking on something, I turned quickly and saw him wiping moisture from his eyes. That set me off too. Damn my worthless eyes.

"I'm sorry." I whispered and heard him echo it. "Why are you sorry?" We both said at the same time. A tearful laugh.

He looked into my eyes, dead blue eyes pleading. "Forgive me."

I shook my head. "Forgive me."


***
Some hours later.

"She'll be fine." The doctor was smoking again. I'd been in the city too long, I was starting to enjoy the stench. "I'm discharging her tomorrow, but watch her carefully, weird shit sometimes happens with injuries like hers. First sign of something odd and you haul ass back here."

Relief. It didn't surprise me. I had curled up with her and slept, the first time in days. It was good to be home. Other men had been in my house, but she loved me. and that's all that mattered. "Thanks doc."


"You're welcome." He left.

"Come back to bed." A half asleep moan.

"Something I have to take care of."

She threw the baby blew hospital covers off herself in panic. "Don't."

"I have to." I smiled at her wanly. "I'll be back in a bit."

"Please don't go. Please, they'll kill you."

"No. I'll kill them."

"Please." But I was gone.

***

I couldn't sleep. Please God, I know I say I don't belive in you but I do, bring him back to me. Please, I gave him up so he'd be safe, now I get him again and he goes and tries to get himself killed. Please, please bring him home safe.

I got worse. The doctor wouldn't release me the next morning. Said something was wrong with my head.

He had it backwards, something was wrong with my heart.

I hadn't slept in a week when the blackness returned.

***

"Did you tell her you loved her?" The man in the cheap buisiness suit held a gun to my head.

"No."

"Why not? You've told my agents plenty of times, right before you blew their brains all over whatever wall they were standing in front of."

"Actions speak louder than words."

"You're proving your love by killing the men who used her to get to you. How sickly romantic."

"Call it ensuring continued safety. I knew you weren't exactly planning to leave us alone."

"And now I'll kill you anyway, and come to collect her debt after." I hung my head, out of options. All but one.

"Die." he whispered, and I moved. I felt a searing pain along my cheek but kept moving, knowing if I stopped I'd never see her face again. His cheap suit smelled like cheap cologne. Then the acrid copper smell of blood assaulted my nostrils. I didn't even remember drawing the knife at the small of my back.

Benifits of being a human weapon.

His last breath stank too.

***

I awoke again, kind of. I couldn't see. Or move.

"What happened?"

"My Gods man! Your face! let me take a look at that!"

"No, it's fine, just a scratch."

"It most certainly is not! Nurse!" I wanted to open my eyes, I wanted to get up and rush to Daniel and see what stupid injury he'd gotten. I was so relieved he was still alive that I didn't evne care though. My body refused to move, my eyes refused to open. I raged silently.

"It's fine Doc, tell me what's wrong with her!"

"You left, she stopped sleeping. That and whatever the fuck you did to her was a poor combination for her health."

"What can you do?"

"Nothing. This is the kind of thing that she either comes out of or doesn't."

"There must be something."

"Talk to her, I don't know if she can hear you. Maybe. Do you love her?"

"Yes."

"Tell her that."

"I can't."

I heard the doctor's exhasparated sigh.

"I don't have to tell her Doc, she knows."

"It might help."

A long pause.

"Let me look at your face." The doctor again.

"It's been a while since I got it. too Long for you to fix."

"Let me see."

"It'll be fine."

The doctor sighed again. It was getting to be a habit. "Fine." Big, clomping steps carried him away.

Then His voice, right next to my ear. I knew he'd try. Because I knew he loved me. But I was afraid. Everyone he'd told he loved had died. I wanted it, and feared it.

"Noble born gift of the Gods..." It was a plea, and a prayer. "Return to me. I..." he stopped, and when he spoke again his voice was filled with tears. "I love you. I... Can you hear me? I love you... This is nonsense." He was talking to the air, bad habit of his. "You know it. No need to say it, I shouldn't have to say it to anyone. Isn't it enough that I feel it? I feel it with everything I am. Monster that I am I can still somehow feel it, and I know you know I feel it. I shouldn't need to spout the words. I feel it less with the words. I'd fill the whole Gods damned room with it if you cut me. I feel it. Isn't that enough?"

It was in that moment that I decided to live.

Hours? (Days) later, I opened my eyes.

He was still there. I knew he would be.

"Is it done?" I asked, before he could get a word out.

He nodded, unable to speak. I noticed an angry red scar across his cheek. I wanted to ask, but didn't.

I reached out with my feeble hand and he took it. "Don't ever leave me again."

"I think I can manage that."

Fin.

"My gift is my song, and this one's for you..."
-Christian, Moulin Rouge.