Legacy // H.S

46.

'I could be your perfect disaster'

*

When there's no battle that needs to be fought, no riches left to be stollen, what else does a person have? When this has become their lives, constantly thinking of their next steps, constantly wondering if their best is enough, then what do they do after it?

In the silence of this car, it seems all our minds are considering the same thing. What our lives will look like once we've done everything we'd planned for. We don't need to use words to make that known. The steady of shake of our legs and the constant movement of our eyes over the world outside the windows makes it obvious how lost we're already feeling, and we haven't even finished this phase of our heist yet.

Perhaps there will always be more to crave, more to steal. The world is full of riches that people are ready to fight over. We'll set our sights on another object or piece of history until we tire and find more. An endless cycle of taking and wanting more.

It's like a drug. Addicted after just one taste. But these people, a team that have worked on these kind of things for years, are they passed the point of saving? Will they always find themselves stuck in it?

I wonder if the other members are thinking the same as they make their journeys back to safety. Are Babz and Zayn considering ways in which they can leave this business? Do they wish to settle down like normal people with their big house and children to fill it? Is there even a way in which that is possible?

Claude knows his days are limited, but he has created enough distance between himself and others that he doesn't feel the need to settle before his time comes. Harry still doesn't know about his diagnosis. It's only me, maybe Liam at this point. There's no telling how he'll react when the day comes that Claude is no longer with us. But this is how he wants it to be. Remembered for everything he did, kept in the image of the Queen's Champion. A myth, a legend, someone that will be learned about through stories, passed down through our generations.

What of those he leaves behind? Those that have been changed by his presence?

Maybe there is some solace in knowing that it is natural, not at the hands of another. Something we cannot control, no matter how much we wish we could. I notice how weak he becomes with each passing day, how hard it is for him to carry on, but I know he'll never stop. Only when he takes his last breath will his desire to do more be fulfilled.

As the sun rises, it seems none of us can find the right words to describe how we're feeling.

It's clear that no police cars are following us, even though we passed many on our way out of London. Over the radio stations the chaos of the early hours of the morning has started making its rounds, newsreaders unsure what to focus on first. But the one thing that hasn't been spoken about, as we suspected, are the Crown Jewels.

They will have searched the room when they knew someone was in there, at first only checking to see if anything had been taken. It would take a few more hours for experts to arrive to inspect the diamonds, though. Maybe they wouldn't even arrive at all considering how good the fakes looked. They would hardly expect people to replace them, only take them. That's what made our heist so different from others in the past.

Even with this, they would not wish to alert the public or the media of it. Doing so would make a joke of the monarchy and the police, and place a spotlight on the diamonds for every other thief and criminal in the world to try and find for themselves. It's a tricky business, stealing. Everyone is acting against each other, though I suppose it's more of a friendly competition that an outright battle like we've known this past year.