As You Were

14. Aftermath

All that was left was the darkness. Untrue. There was something at the end of it, though it had seemed like it was infinite before. It wasn't a light, like in the movies, but it was a shape—something that had form. It moved closer. Slowly coming forward as if it could not be rushed, but approaching all the same because it was something that was infinite. As it materialized it became more and more solid, holding an image that was missed, but would never be forgotten. Gone, regardless. It did not shine, wore no white robes and carried no harp. But despite those things, there was no denying that it was an angel. She was an angel.

Evie looked just the way she had before. Beautiful, flawless, unscarred. Her mouth moved, but no words came from it. Her lips parted, but she no longer had need for a voice. She was in his head, Jax could hear her there, feel her there. He was thoughtless as she came to him, finally close enough that he could swear he was smelling the scent of her favorite perfume. They looked at each other now, quiet, suspended. He found that his voice had left him too, that he too could say no words. Because he was just like her now. He was with her again.

She extended her hand, gradually, until it was palm up and right in front of him. Evie held her eyes on him, such want, such longing. It was then that he had the will to move, finding his own arm and watching it float up at his side, his fingers reaching, so fully towards her. Jax stopped as their flesh hovered only inches apart. Something strange happened. He couldn't quite place it, it wasn't quite right. Still, he could hear something, and if he tried very hard he could make out some words. These words came from neither of them, though, from somewhere completely different, unseen.

"Come back to me, damn it!" The voice was fast, afraid. That didn't make sense to Jax now—he wasn't afraid—why would anyone be afraid? When he returned his eyes to his sister she was still there, waiting. Their hands still were unmet, still lingering where they had been. The voice was out of place, he knew that, and yet there was something about it that gave him reason to pause. What was it? Jax wanted so badly to grab hold of Evie, to feel his sister once more, to stay with her forever. Within him a feeling was stirring and he remembered that there was something he could not let go of.

"Jax? Come back to me!" The voice was persistent. It was familiar, not what he was holding onto, but familiar all the same. He tried to recall that now—what it was that he could not let go of. A face. Jax could picture a face now and it made him feel all sorts of things. Love, pain, sadness, desire. Then it went beyond just the face, to the body, the soul, the memories, the belonging. Yes, the belonging. The man belonged to him, and he belonged to the man. He looked back at his sister now, torn between them. He could only have one. Only one. How was he supposed to choose?

"He's gone, there's nothing else I could do." The voice was sad now.

"Keep trying!" Now another voice had pierced the veil, this was deeper, rougher. When Jax looked back at Evie this time, she had withdrawn her hand. She was still there, still close, but she no longer offered to bring him with her. They both knew that he had made his choice, and she did not begrudge him for it. She closed the distance, and he could feel her hands on his face, her lips as they pressed against his forehead. Then she let him go. She drifted back the way she had come, farther and farther, until she was only a shape. Before she had gone she had given him one last message. One that he had read on her lips. Not yet.

Jax gasped for breath as he opened his eyes.

"I've got him," Raz yelled, kneeling back and ceasing his attempts at resuscitation. Still breathing deeply Jax had to rely on him, taking his help to sit up and retaining it to remain there. Across the room he could see Roman, on the floor, legs apart, as he looked down at his bloody hands. Just behind him was Conley, motionless, laying in a pool of red.