In Hell We Dance

Impossible

-Connor-

You see something mortifying. Horrible enough to sap the strength right out of you, a puddle of wax, the candle melted all too fast. When I found Isaac on that rooftop, I froze. I panicked. I was useless.

Only the sheer reality of the situation, an icy wind tearing at my cheeks slapped some goddamn sense into me. I took baby steps, afraid some small noise, a scraping of rocks would startle him and he'd fall.

When he ripped off his necklace and lobbed it over the edge, I knew I had only seconds. When he took that step, I screamed, teetering on wailing.

"Stop!"

Isaac did a half-turn, harrowed eyes taking me in, and there was something in them, something more, a glimmer when he saw me. He took one step back onto the roof, yet still, he wavered. Then he tilted, and everything slowed to a heartbeat. I dived, reaching madly, body scraping across the gravel till my chin hit the edge. I missed.

Or at least, it seemed that way. Then his arm was in mine and I gripped hard, the overbearing momentum threatening to send me right off with him, but I dug my feet into a tunnel of pipe, and my torso caught against the concrete, knocking the wind right out of me. It felt like my arm came right out of its socket—it's no doubt broken, but I can't let go. I can't!

I feel the harsh smack as he collides with the side of the building, and if not for that pipe, there was no way that I wasn't going to my death right with him. But despite the searing strain on my ankles and the throbbing all across my chest, I had him. For now, at least, he was alive.

Teeth gritted, I feel bursting to pop. My joints are out of whack; I'm already breathless, tearing at the seams, letting go a fucking terrifying reality. So easy... I would live. Why should both of us go down?

The hysteria was gone with a blink. Fuck that! Who would I be... What would I be without Isaac? I failed him. He failed me. But none of that mattered. If I let him die here, tonight, I die right with him. No, I won't fall. My damage will be just as permanent, only I have to live with it.

The collision must have done a number on him, but with a scream that chills my teeth, I know he is conscious at least. He carries on, and I just want someone to hear us, but they can't, of course. The music thrums, pulsing despite everything. This nightmare is ours to suffer, a sickening burden no others can share in.

Isaac is fucking heavy. He's over six feet and I'm just seventy-two kilograms of pathetic. Already my feet are coming loose, sliding over the rusty metal, an icy dagger across my ankles. Gravel grates at my stomach, each millisecond dragging us that little bit further. I feel my fingers slipping, soaking with sweat.

Fuck! Out of time. So I heave, screaming with the effort, screaming because this is it, this is what my life amounts to. What was I ever good for? You know, maybe this won't tell me, but for all his faults, Isaac doesn't deserve to die.

Curling my toes back under the pipe, I arch myself backwards, teeth gritted, not fucking caring if I pull every goddamn muscle in my body.

An inch! That's as far as I lift him. He fights for purchase on my jacket, and I almost sob. He's fighting. He's not giving up. So I can't.

I try again, but there's only so much you can do, fiery-eyed or otherwise.

Alone.

But I'm not alone. Some of the weight is taken off, and he slides up a little faster. I can only guess he's got his feet to the wall, pushing himself up. I could write you a book detailing every single thought going through my head at that moment. A lot of senseless nonsense, intermixed with long sections of sobbing, flashes of shirtless celebrities, and every fucking movie where the main character finds that hidden reserve of strength. Why. And when I think of Isaac, I know that this is one of those moments where you have to shatter the odds; do the impossible. I don't have it in me to go superhuman. But he hasn't given up, so what kind of heartless bastard would I be if I didn't defy the impossible for him?