lie to me → s.d.

.31 | heads or tails

The trip down to the beach was one of the worst nature hikes Theodora had ever been on, if she said so herself. And she had been on quite a few hikes in her life that didn't pan out at all in the way she had hoped them to.

She thought that at one point, while they were stumbling their way through the forgotten neighborhood, that she might have lost consciousness, because there was one moment in which as was walking over a crumbled blacksmith, and the next she wasn't. Instead, she found herself lost in a memory that had happened years ago, one resurfacing from the back of her mind, because there were so many as wonderful as it they all stitched together in a blanket of comfort that had always been wrapped tight over her shoulders.

Rather than trekking through Libertalia, unable walk straight and leaving behind her lifelong dream, she was sitting on the back of a motorcycle feeling the air of Colorado deep into midnight caress her body like a harsh kiss. She glanced through the visor on her helmet at Sam in front of her, who tipped his head up against the canvas of stars surrounding them. The ground zipped past them, teasing them with weeds on the side of the path that reached for their ankles as they sped past, winding through backroads that led to nowhere and everywhere.

This was where they both belonged, in tune with the rumble of the motor's thrum, lost in the middle of nowhere, king and queen of this kingdom of nothing. Feeling like they were both gods and specks of dust. There were no problems out here where they were riding, only each other and the grip she had around his middle.

And then Theodora was yanked back to the present and it wasn't her holding onto him, but the other way around, because she wasn't walking anymore. Her eyes opened and she found herself staring up at the sky, and the four birds tattooed on the side of Sam's neck that looked like they belonged up there in the clouds. A bead of sweat was stuck to his temple and he huffed as he hefted her in his arms, the blood from her shirt staining his own. She turned her head and caught a glimpse of Sully's plane growing bigger and bigger, and she heard the sound of his footsteps sinking against sand beneath her.

She took a breath and reached up and pat a hand against his chest, and he hefted her again. "Almost there, honey," he painted, the ring of sweat around his collar spreading.

Theodora cleared her throat and swallowed the small pool of blood sitting at the back of her mouth. "Sam," she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. "Stop. Stop." Since they were in the back of the group, the others up ahead took no notice when he slowed his pace. "I need to see it, Sam. And I know you do, too." His expression melted into one of hard, hard thought as he looked between her and the plane. "You said it yourself; this - this is what we've been chasing our entire lives. If we don't... if we don't at least see it, what have we done?"

He couldn't answer, because what they really had done with their lives simply wasn't enough for either of them. Wasted away in jail. Spent years stuck running in place with some half-hearted replacement. It wasn't enough. They needed more. They needed more than what they had done, because if either of them died today, would they have wasted their lives?

Sam helped her stand when she wiggled to be free, and they stood at the mouth of the jungle that opened out to the beach. In front of them were their friends and family, the plane that promised them a chance to keep on going, keep living. And to their right was a path leading back into the lush greenery, weaving up the mountain and to their lifelong dream. Sam took a step back, away from the shore, and Theodora followed.

Nathan glanced over his shoulder when they were nearing the plane, and halted in his tracks when he realized what was happening. Elena and Sully followed his gaze, and all three of them watched as Sam and Theodora considered the path leading away from the water, away from salvation.