One (A SPM AU BASED ON LN2)

The Afterwards

I wished he was there with me to make me smile again. I wished he could give me one of those speeches at the moment. I began to cry often, beating myself up over what I had done. 

Sometimes I would even whisper for him, crying for help. Begging him to come back.

Six, you don't have to ever worry about me not coming back, I remembered him saying. I promise, I'll always come back.

I remember him promising that he'd always come back, so why... why wasn't he here with me anymore?

It was simple, really. This time there was no coming back for him. My hero was dead. I left him. I let him go. So why was I crying? 

It was because... I missed him. I really missed him. I missed his kindness. I missed his voice, his eyes, everything. Heck, I even missed his terrible jokes. 

What I would have given to hear another ONE-liner from him. 

Heh... I can't pull those off, can I?

He always made his jokes sound so real and natural. Everything about him was so... good. So amazing. It was like he didn't even have to try. He just had that kind of bright personality. He made me smile a way no one else could for years.

And I hated myself so much for ridding the world of that smile. I was the reason the sun wasn't back. I was the reason we were still trapped in darkness. I was the one who let go of the one person who promised to make the world better.

The guilt weighed me down. I ate away at me from the inside. There was one night when it became too much. I could almost never find sleep. And when I finally did that one fateful night, he appeared in my nightmares, which was odd, because I always had associated him with dreams. 

I always had thought that if I saw him again, it would be in a happy place. Not a broken one.

That night... I saw myself just standing in an empty white room, alone with him. It was just me and him. There was nothing else for miles.

We stood about twenty feet apart, just staring at one another. He hadn't aged. He hadn't changed in the slightest. Except... he didn't wear his paper bag. 

His face was sort of fuzzy. Almost as if I was starting to forget it. I couldn't remember any specific features.

That might have been the worst part of the dream. Seeing his face look slightly fuzzy. I didn't want to forget it, but I was starting to, and it was killing me. 

I didn't want him to become a forgotten memory. I didn't want that!

In that dream... in that nightmare... he just stood there, silently staring at me with an empty expression. It killed me that he hadn't aged with me. He never got the chance to age with me. He never got the opportunity to become an adult. 

He was shorter than me now.

I remember breaking down in tears, dropping to my knees so he could be taller again. I couldn't stand seeing myself grown-up when he never got the opportunity to. I didn't care how I appeared. I allowed him to see me at my worse. 

I wasn't sure if I should have even begged him for forgiveness. After all, forgiveness wasn't even what I wanted. I just wanted him back. Not even that! I just wanted to remember him. I just wanted to keep at least a small part of him alive in my heart.

But as I cried... he didn't seem mad. Just... empty. 

After what felt like lifetimes of silence, where there only noises for miles were my sobs, he finally moved.