It should've never gone like this.

Is this real?

It never should've gone this way, any other result would have been better.

Brett watched as the ambulance took Reagan away, it didn't feel real at all, like he was watching from a whole different perspective.

A dream even,

he looked at his hands, the menacing green glow that once was there, gone. Replaced by a murky red, it made him nauseous. Clenching his fist then shutting his eyes tight, wincing at the *squelch* noise made by the blood in his palms. He repeated the meant-to-be-soothing words in a whisper, "It's fake, It's fake, it's all fake. Just a nightmare Brett!" He laughed at an attempt to reassure himself mostly. "Wake up go to work and Reagan will be sipping away angrily at her coffee!" He continued voice cracking at the end. With a painful smile he opened his eyes, his hands still painted red with Reagan's blood.

20 minutes earlier

"Brett, What's with your whole Firestarter, Slimer Vibe?" Reagan quirked a brow at her friend, "It's a little derivative." Stowing her blaster onto her shoulder she smirked confidently.

"How much time did you spend at the blockbuster?" Asked Glenn from atop the van.

"Enough to make this!" She pulled a lever from her right side powering up the thing on her back resembling a ghostbusters proton pack , pink electric streaks engulfed her and the blaster. She aimed and stood her ground.

Having watched ghostbusters, she was ready for the rush. Brett laughed all in good manner, he materialized a green powerful flow energy dashing at Reagan, she shot back with her pink-orange lightning. Brett almost began to frown but actually grinned, a cabbage patch kid tore apart Reagan's proton pack apart sending a large pinky blast that made her go flying into the concrete of the road.

Myc, Andre, and Glenn rushed to her side, "I didn't know violence could end badly." Remarked Glenn. "Tragic, dead at 40." Added Myc, Reagan whipped her head around completely forgetting the fact she had just been blasted into the ground, "Hey, fuck you!" Before she could add on anymore the green glow immersed itself around her picking her off the ground, they all gasped once Reagan met Bretts white glowing eyes not a glimmer of recognition in them, Brett grunted slamming her against the clock.

*CRACK*

Nothing followed except Reagan's body slumping from her starfish form, her coworkers watch in disturbed silence. Brett didn't even notice until everyone had gone silent, even Gigi's far off reporting had stopped, the world ran in slow motion before it even caught up to him. He smiled "Reagan?" The distorted voice asked, the container nostalgia max aimed at her was set down and he floated in her direction. "Reagan?" It was less distorted this time, but maybe it was a trap. So he kept his good 5 foot distance,

Awkwardly after an excruciatingly long minute he decided to get closer, he asked once more.

"Reagan?"

No response again, he slowly reached a cupped hand for her face, he set another scrupulously behind her head for support, "Hey Reagan get up! The 80's aren't over yet!" He slapped his hand softly against her face a few times. Brett decided to switch hands, switching he rubbed his thumb against her check, only to see the stain he left.

Inspecting his hand he saw the blood coming from his left hand, cocking his head to the right he then saw the damage he had done.

The back of her head was gushing unforgivingly, the clock painted with a splatter from the impact, her green scrunchie ruined into a stale red, his smile faded. "Reagan?" This time pulled from his trance eyes regaining their pupils a softer essence surrounding them, no distortion to be found, "Reagan come on this isn't funny." He huffed, no one answered him. The color in Reagan's face had begun to fade, her shut eyes didn't even flutter at the sound at Bretts voice, "Hahaha..