I left my body down on her knees,
over the bedside,
watching you breathe.
And I saw the fire, I felt the flames...
I heard the banshees calling your name.
You knew from the first moment that you saw him cut off someone’s life so easily, like scissors through a string, that it wasn’t something you could stop. You know that kind of corruption, you know how it seeps into one’s soul and darkens their heart, how it infects their whole body from the inside out. Cruelty is a cancer, and if you’ve given it a single drop of blood to feed on, it’s already far too late.
So you shouldn’t be so surprised as you stand here, staring at the room of dead bodies with only a handful of civilians left cowering in the corner, but it doesn’t seem that you can help it.
You thought that knowing his demons was enough. You thought if you called them by their names and banished them back to the hell from which they came, that would be enough. But your words rang empty, and the phantoms of trauma’s past were not to be deterred by one singular resilient woman. You did everything you could to protect him, to shield him from this future, but it wasn’t enough. It has never been enough.
“. . . Dave?”
I have these new fears I carry with me,
so you can feel stronger,
you can know peace.
You turn around as you scan the room for his presence, only to find him right behind you, gun raised. You take an instinctive step back, resisting the urge to reach for your wands. He’s just... staring at you. His eyes still covered by his glasses, his face hardened and expressionless.
It’s as if he doesn’t even recognize you.
Just hold on tight,
I'll be coming,
I'm coming for you.
“Dave, put the gun down,” you say slowly, keeping your hands where he can see them -- and the fact that they’re empty. “It’s me. I’m not going to hurt you.”
"Step aside, Rosalie.”
He’s not aiming at you.
I will back you up, I will show you love,
I will give you all I got 'til I cannot.
Hold on tight . . .
“What?” You probably should have said something slightly more articulate there, but his words catch you too off guard. He steps forward, gun still raised, and you step back towards the innocent people behind you. They’re what he’s aiming at.
“He was my brother. My brother did this to me, Rosa, and every time I let myself believe the world might allow me to get out of this, betrayal creeps out from the cracks in the walls around me and finds its way back into my life. I’m done showing this world mercy it doesn’t deserve. And if you don’t move, that includes you.”
His voice wavers.
When you come undone, I'll carry your chains,
so you can feel freedom
and a little less pain.
“They haven’t done anything, Dave, and neither have I,” you murmur. You can feel your eyes glossing over with tears. You never truly believed it would get this bad, that after all the enemies he’d made, you’d fall victim to the same fate. You were so naive. “My love, please, give me the gun.”
And if the poison burns in your blood,
I'll drink the venom out of the cut.
He doesn’t do that. He steps forward again, and again you step back.
'Cause I have these new fears that carry me through
every bullet I'm taking for you.
“What, are you afraid of me?”
“Put it down, Dave.”
You can’t back up any further without hitting the survivors of his rampage. “Please, you don’t have to do any of this. Give me the gun, and we can put this all behind us. We can leave, we can start over--”
“That’s what you said LAST TIME. No more BULLSHIT, Rosa! It’s not going to go away!”
I'll take two times the misery,
A tear slips down your cheek as your heart twists in your chest. “I’m trying my best,” you whisper. “Lover, please...”
and half the glory,
“The world is an evil place with evil people in it, Rosa. If you loved me, you wouldn’t be standing in my way.”
if it means you’ll be the champion of the story.
The gun cocks. Your wands are out, in both hands, and you’ve lunged forward, driving both of them into his chest. The gun goes off, but he’s been knocked back, and all its bullet hits is the ceiling. The people behind you scream and scatter in a frenzy, inhumanly, like rats skittering out of the sewers.
And you?
You’re staring down at one more dead body.
Hold on tight!
“I’m sorry,” you gasp out, the tears in your eyes taking your breath away each time you try to find it. “I’m so sorry, Dave, I tried, I tried so, hard...”
I’ll be coming, coming for you.
You dip your head down, resting your forehead on his as your shoulders shake with your sobs. The panic around you doesn’t even move you. How could it? You’ve just murdered the man you love, how could anything possibly matter more than that right now?
Every night I’ll be burning, burning for you.
And then you’re being pried away from him. Unidentified law enforcement agents are holding your arms tight and dragging you away from him. “It was me,” you choke, tears nearly blinding you. “This is all my fault, I did this, not him,” and then they’re pulling his body into a bag, and you jerk forward harshly in an attempt to break free of their hold that leaves your shoulders burning, “don’t TOUCH him--”
I will back you up.
You jump awake.
You’re sitting up, gasping for air, tears rolling down your cheeks as soon as you’ve regained consciousness as the intense emotion of the dream falls with you into your lucid state. Your arms come forward to hold yourself, to reassure yourself no strangers are touching you and you aren’t being restrained, as you try desperately to catch your breath.
You’re okay. You’re okay. He’s okay.
I will show you love.
But you’re a Seer, and you have no way of knowing if what you just experienced was pure irrational psychological fear, or a premonition of what’s to come.
No matter how hard you try for him, it really might not be enough.
I will give you all I got ‘til I cannot.
If you were anywhere close to slowing the tears a moment ago, you no longer are once that thought makes its way through your mind.
