Ian and Amy - Meant To Be

Extra - Jonah

Before You Read: This is not an Ian-and-Amy moment. That'll come later, as I'm trying to make it just right. In the meantime, this is Jonah's POV, set after the Unstoppable series. Enjoy!

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Jonah was in the gauntlet again. He forged ahead, determined to be the first one to the prize.

Then rocks began to fall.

The ground shook violently beneath his feet, rolling and pitching about. Jagged pieces of rock plummeted down. Dust rose into the air, clogging his lungs. A giant boulder knocked him to the ground, pinning his legs. Two more followed, this time shattering bones. Something heavy landed on his chest, crushing the breath out of him. He tried to scream, but darkness claimed him first.

Jonah awoke with a strangled gasp, sitting bolt upright. His hands automatically went to his legs. Of course, they were perfectly fine. Fully healed and all. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Jonah knew it was silly to be having nightmares about something that was a thing of the past now. There were no more gauntlets to be explored in search of great treasure. No more cave-ins caused by venomous relatives. No more Cora Wizard. No more Isabel Kabra. It would probably be more appropriate if he were to dream about other horrific events from not so long ago.

But he couldn't deny that that moment was significant to him because it was the first time he'd genuinely thought he would die. It had never felt real to him somehow, the whole clue hunt. He was Jonah Wizard. Nothing would be able to harm him. He had never thought of death.

Until the rocks started falling.

He remembered the pain, mind-numbing and terrible. It had devoured him, overwhelmed him. It was unforgettable. He had thought it would kill him. And as much as he tried to avoid it, his dreams kept bringing him back to that moment, intent on making him relive it over and over again.

Either that or the one where he'd become a murderer.

He remembered the look that had been on the woman's face as she'd died, bleeding from the gunshot wounds he had made. It had been shock, accusation, disbelief, and finally, blankness. He had watched as life left her body, and he had known it was he who had caused it.

Jonah Wizard, murderer.

He thrust out a hand and snatched his phone up from the bedside table. He suddenly felt like he couldn't bear to be alone with his thoughts. His father was asleep a few doors down, but Jonah didn't want to bother him. Besides, Broderick would not be able to comprehend what was going through his mind. He wanted the people who understood.

The screen flickered on. He went straight to the secure chat page they had created among themselves. Normally they all lived far away from each other, cut off, but they had decided that they needed a safe way of communications so they could check up on each other even when there wasn't some emergency raging on. Hence the chat page.

There appeared to be several of them online right now. Jonah lost no time in joining in.

Yo.

An immediate response from Hamilton. Hey. I thought it was nighttime on your side of the globe.

Couldn't sleep. Wide awake.

Glad you could join us, Jonah. Dan. I needed one more on my side.

What for?

For the last time, no, I haven't even touched your stupid cat! Ian. You should be concerned about me instead. That beast is out to kill me!

Jonah smirked. He couldn't help it. Chill out, dude. I've met Saladin before, and he's an angel.

Don't call me dude, came his reply. And I can't believe you're on the side of the *shudder* cat.

You're just jealous of his supreme awesomeness, Cobra. Embrace it. Typical Dan.

Don't call me Cobra!!!

And so on. Jonah watched the little speech bubbles pop up on the screen, content to just read what was being said. Part of him was following the conversation, which was rapidly turning into an 'insult-the-Kabra' game, with Dan on the offensive, Ian on defense, and Hamilton refereeing the match, football-style. Part of him was thinking.

They had all known loss. They all knew pain. They all knew the meaning of death, of betrayal, of struggle, of fear. Jonah knew that he wasn't the only one who woke up terrified from nightmares, who was haunted by memories. After all, not many people had gone through the hell they'd been through and lived to tell the tale.

Yet they had survived, and they refused to be weighed down by the past. They still laughed, still joked, still managed to muster up vain indignation, still felt excitement. They had managed to stand back up and walk on.

Jonah drew from that, taking a deep breath.

Sometimes the reassurance that one wasn't alone was enough.