The Time

Chapter twenty nine

"You don't think I know you're planning on pushing me over the edge and leaving me down there?" Velvet spat, gun still in my face. "I pickpocketted this off you on the way over here. You were pretty distracted, so don't blame yourself."
"That gun isn't loaded." I scoffed, hoping to God saying it made it true.

There were two he could have taken; the one used to kill Eliot which was now empty and the other one which he was holding.

"That's good then! Nothing will happen when I do this..."
He fired once into Destiny's stomach and, after a moment, another into his head.
"Empty, huh?" Velvet pondered sarcastically. "I don't know why you people don't like me. I could have let him suffer!"
"You've already let him suffer!" Milo growled furiously. "You've let too many people suffer."
"Hey now, calm down. Let's just have a civilised conversation, or the next bullet may be for you. I know your dates coming up soon..."
"Fine." Quin gave in, still filled with boiling ritious rage for everything Velvet had taken from him, seemingly ignoring the last comment. "If it's a civilised conversation you want, I'll say this: You hurt someone I love-"
"Loved." Velvet corrected. "Remember, I killed him!"
"Yes, you hurt someone I loved, you killed someone I loved. And now you can't accept your punishment. I will accept mine for Eliot Marsh. Now it's your turn."
"I think you're forgetting, I'm the one with the gun." Velvet practically chuckled.
"Beryl, fill it." Milo Quin told me. "I deserve no more."

He then turned on Velvet, who looked utterly confused (as did I), and charged, throwing them both over the edge as I screamed for my friend. It was James Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes falling into the darkness of Reichenbach Falls. My regrets were for the many hate filled moments I'd had for Quin for what he'd done to Eliot, the fact that I'd lost him, another friend, or, most selfishly, that it hadn't been me to kill Velvet and heroically sacrifice my life - but then again, unlike Quin, I still had something to live for.

I called Wesson over, still in a state of shock. He was in a giant cement truck and I dropped down beside it, nodding slightly, giving the cue for the cement to be dumped into the hole. And I don't cry at much, but knowing I was burying someone once so close to me was pretty damn hard and I felt the salty beads slip from my eyes as I heard the cement crunch in.

By the time Destiny respawned, I still hadn't moved from my spot.
"What happened? Did it work?" He questioned, fiddling with his jumper.
I nodded.
"And Quin?" He asked hopefully.
I shook my head.
A pause and then he sat beside me and we stayed there for a while in silence, Wesson leaving once the job was done to return to his spot at the gate. Eternally the Watcher on the Wall. He said something before he left though. Something a great philosopher named Richie had told me a long time ago:
"There are two things that define a man; the loss of a great love, and the love of a great loss."
I had never heard a more fitting summary of the last moments of Milo Quin's life.

It was night when we got back on the road. The silence was unbearable but neither of us knew what to say.
"Where are we going?" Destiny piped up suddenly, sat in the passenger seat of a warm little car I'd found in the Alton Towers car park.
"Home." I sighed peacefully.
"I don't have a home." Destiny whispered, as if he had only just realised and didn't want to tell himself.
"Of course you do! It's with me and Lion in a crappy little apartment in Brighton where there's lots of pot noodles and mini cheddars and alcohol - not that you'll probably want anymore of that - and of course with Stitch and Wayne and everyone." I told him. "We can live our days watching Supernatural and travelling and I can teach you all I know and you can tell me all your stories!"

There was a pause and more silence then while he processed all that I'd said, ready to politely decline my offer. But then:
"So you own a castle, huh?"
"We own a castle. We could live there if you want?"
"That would be pretty cool."
"''Pretty cool''?" I repeated. "It would be awesome! But with everything that's happened..."
"The crappy little apartment would be fine." Destiny smiled, huddling harder into the pillow Milo had brought down that morning, the rest of the possessions in either the castle or the boot.
"It would be nice to be back..." I agreed. "And you know what else would be nice?"
"What?"
"A full English. Huge juicy sausages. (You know the ones I mean. No. Not that kind). Bacon - without the fat. A whole bunch of beans still sloshing in their sauce. Thick buttery white toast. And crispy hash browns. Maybe a coffee to boot - with a fuck-ton of sugar and milk of course."
"You'll have to make me one. And we can sit around watching awful low budget horror movies and just sleep for a very very long time after all this."
"I can get behind that. We'll have to find a bed for you though. Unless you're okay with sleeping on the sofa-"

The car hadn't had headlights on. I hadn't seen or heard it over our own engine until it was beside my window and crashing into us.
An all consuming sound of scraping metal and smashing glass exploded round me and I felt everything spin and go dark in my final moments. And then nothing.