SKYFALL, Johnny Kavanagh

Hard goodbyes

Maeve's Point of View

I walked.
For hours.

The cold had settled deep in my bones by the time I turned onto my street, my fingers stiff where they clutched Johnny's coat, my legs aching from the journey.

I should've taken the bus.
Should've let myself sit and breathe and process everything.
But I didn't, because that would have meant stopping.
That would have meant thinking.

And I couldn't afford that right now.

Because if I thought too much, I'd have to face the fact that I'd kissed Johnny.
That I'd told him.
That I had said it out loud, like some desperate, reckless idiot who didn't know how to keep her mouth shut.
That I had let myself feel something, and now it was too fucking late to take it back.

My chest ached.
Not from the bruises.
Not from the cold.

I exhaled sharply and forced my steps to keep moving, even as the sight of the house made my stomach curl with dread.

And there was Joey.
Sitting on the steps, hunched over, hands clasped loosely between his knees.
Waiting.

I swallowed hard, my pulse stumbling.
He heard me before I reached him.

His head lifted slightly, but he didn't speak right away. Just let his gaze sweep over me, taking me in.
The flushed skin from the cold, the tension still locked in my shoulders.

The coat.

His brows twitched, but he didn't say anything about it.
Instead, he let out a slow breath and asked, "You walked?"

I nodded.

"Why?"

I shrugged, shifting my weight. "Wanted to."

"Right. Because you love torturing yourself."

I didn't respond.
Because maybe he wasn't wrong.
Maybe I did deserve to suffer a little.

We fell into silence, the air thick with things neither of us wanted to say.

It wasn't the first time we'd been like this – standing on the edge of something too big to name, too dangerous to touch.

But tonight felt different.
Like the beginning of the end.

Like he had already made up his mind about something, and I was just catching up.

"You're not coming inside." I said finally.

"No." He admitted. "I'm not."

The words hit harder than I expected.

Joey had always come back inside.
Always.

Even when he was furious, even when he couldn't stand the sight of Teddy, even when he hated every single brick in that fucking house – he had always walked back through that door.

But now?
He wouldn't.

I forced myself to speak. "Joey."

"If I go back inside, I'll kill them both."

I flinched.
Because he meant it.

There wasn't a single ounce of exaggeration in his voice.
Just cold, hard truth.

"Where are you going to go?"

He shrugged. "Aoife's for now. I'll figure something out."

Because of course he was going to Aoife's.
She was his escape route.
His exit plan.

And I hated that I felt even the smallest sting of resentment over it.

Not because I didn't like her.
Not because I wanted him to suffer.
But because it meant that this was real.

That this was it.

That he was leaving, and he wasn't coming back.

Not really.
Not fully.

And that?
That was something I wasn't ready for.

We sat in silence for a long time.
Not looking at each other.
Not moving.

Just breathing in the same poisoned air, both knowing that this was the last time things would ever feel the same.

And then, finally Joey spoke.

His voice was quiet.
Even.
But the words landed like a gunshot.

"The next time he puts his hands on you." He said. "I want you to grab the sharpest knife you can find and shove it in his heart."

My breath caught. "What?"

Joey didn't blink.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't waver.

"You heard me." His voice was like steel. "If he touches you again, you don't run. You don't cry. You don't hide. You end it."

I stared at him.
Waiting for him to crack.
Waiting for him to say he was joking.

But he didn't.
Because he wasn't.
He meant it.

Every single word.

And that scared me more than anything.
Because Joey had always been the one holding things together.
Even when he was losing his mind, even when things got bad, even when we both knew we were drowning – he had still held on.

But now?
Now he was telling me to give up.
Now he was telling me to end it.

And that meant that something in him had finally snapped.
That he wasn't going to keep playing the role of protector.
That he wasn't going to be here to soften the blows anymore.

That this was it.

I wrapped my arms around myself, gripping Johnny's coat like a lifeline.

"What if I can't?" I whispered.

Joey's jaw clenched.
His hands curled into fists.
His gaze burned into mine.

"Then I will."

A shiver ran down my spine.
Because Joey wasn't lying.

I Didn't know how to fix this.
Didn't know how to stop the only person who had ever fought for me from walking away for good.

The lump in my throat swelled.
I didn't let it break.
Didn't let myself cry.

Not now.
Not in front of him.

Instead, I exhaled sharply and nodded.

Joey's face softened – just a little.

"I'm not leaving you, Maeve."

But he was.
Not tonight.
Not all at once.

But this?

This was the first step.
And we both knew it.

I forced my chin up, forced my voice to stay steady.

"You're going to be gone a lot now."

Joey exhaled through his nose. "Yeah."

I looked down at my feet. "I get it."

"I know."

We stood there a second longer, neither of us moving.
And then he sighed and pulled me into a hug, pressing his chin to the top of my head.

"I love you, Maeve."

"I love you too, Joey."

And then he let go.
And I turned toward the door.
And when I looked back.

He was already walking away.