Days had passed, the world was ending, a million thoughts tore through his mind.
Gun pointed to his head, the world is ending, and all he could think about was her.
All he wanted was her: to hold her as everything faded to black, as the life drained from him. To tell her he was sorry. Sorry for all the wasted time, the missed opportunities, all the times he wanted to tell her how he felt, but didn't.
"You're never going to get away with this." Kate's voice didn't waver.
He wondered how she hid her fear so well. Or, maybe, she was just braver than he was.
Maybe, she was ready to die.
Because there was no way out of this. If there was, he would see it by now. Even with the shock of Sophia's betrayal hazing his judgement, throwing everything he had ever thought he had known into question, he was an optimist. If there was a way to avoid imminent death, he would see it.
But they were lured, trapped, guns pointed and ready for execution.
And he should probably be thinking of something other than how he will never hold her again, never be able to apologise for all the wasted time, the missed opportunities and all those times he wanted to remind her that he loved her, but didn't.
"Don't worry, I'll make it sound heroic," Sophia taunted Beckett.
She was having too much fun with this, basking in the knowledge that she had pulled one over the Kate Beckett. He knew otherwise, though. Because Kate had been uneasy in Sophia's presence since the start, and he had been too conceited to consider it anything more than jealousy.
Sophia turned her attention back to him, it was his turn to be the victim of her provocative games, he could tell by the way her face twisted into a villainous smirk.
He turned his head to face forward again, avoiding the face he had once associated with heroism, valour and patriotism.
The face of Clara Strike.
Oh, how wrong he had been.
"Your father would be proud."
That wasn't what he had expected. Not at all. His focus shot back to her.
Not his father. He didn't have a father. Sophia knew that.
"Well, you didn't think you gained special access to the CIA back then because of your charm," she laughed.
He reminded himself of the game. That's what she was doing, she was messing with his head. She was psychotic: to her, this was fun.
"You really don't know, do you?"
All humour dropped from her voice and he fought hard not to believe her words.
He didn't have a father. Doesn't have a father.
And, she wasn't exactly a trustworthy source.
"I guess you never will."
She pointed the gun at his head, painstakingly slow.
He turned away from her again, taking solace in one thing: he wouldn't have to watch Kate die.
He couldn't think of anything else at that moment. He didn't want to.
Not Alexis, not his mother, not the end of the world.
And certainly not his father.
He clenched his jaw, bracing himself. With a little luck, he wouldn't feel a thing.
The gunshot echoed through the parking structure, and he heard Kate's pained scream.
Sophia dropped. Her lifeless eyes locked to the wall as her body settled into place, slumped on the cold, hard ground beneath them.
He didn't understand, why wasn't he dead?
But the world was still ending.
