2:32am, 20 April 2009
Washington, District of Columbia

The gentle pink of the cherry blossoms swirled as a gentle breeze shook them loose. Pale in the dark night, they were still luminescent, even under the thin sliver of the moon. They softly brushed his hands, his face, making a sound just on the edge of hearing.

I only want to say
If there is a way
Take this cup away from me
For I don't want to taste its poison

The time has come. It's time to go look for him again.

I'm scared. I'm terrified of what's happened to him. He's been hurt beyond what I can imagine, and the Bond is gone--or at least very different from what it was like before.

But I must go find him. I still must.

Feel it burn me
I have changed
I'm not as sure
As when I started

The slight chill of late night air penetrated the leather jacket. His hands brushed lightly across the striated trunks of the trees as he walked in thought, a shadow among shadows, the pale blossoms peppering his hair, his clothes. His eyes looked inward as much as outward.

I even tried to forget him. I tried hard. But I failed.

I know very well that he is probably my death. He has been turned into a weapon against me by Teo.

It's very clear to me that I should just let him go, get on with my life, and move off in a different direction.

Then, I was inspired
Now, I'm sad and tired
Listen, surely I've exceeded expectations
Tried for three years
Seems like thirty
Could you ask as much from any other man?

His hand tightened around the trunk of a sturdy tree, and he swung his body around it once, leaning against it with one arm wrapped around it. The languid motions seemed frustrated, punctuated by a blunt smack with the heel of his hand against the trunk of the tree.

The tree just shook some, showering more petals down upon him.

I should, but I can't. I tried, and I failed. The deck is stacked. Haven't I done enough already?

Apparently not.

But if I die
See the saga through and do the things you ask of me
Let them hate me hit me hurt me nail me to their tree
I'd want to know, I'd want to know, my God
I'd want to see, I'd want to see, my God
Why should I die?

9:19pm, 21 April 2009
Glen Burnie, Maryland

The small car pulled onto I-695, beginning a drive northward. Loud German heavy metal was blasting from the speakers, and the driver tapped his hands on the steering wheel.

Why am I doing this? Every ounce of common sense left in me rebels, but still I'm being pulled along. The Watcher has been quiet for a long time. Everything could get back to normal.

Teo. I have a score to settle with him. I should turn this coffin-on-wheels westward and start heading down there.

Shit, if I'm gonna die, I should at least make it worth something. And watching his face when his head falls off his shoulders would be worth everything.

Can you show me now that I would not be killed in vain?
Show me just a little of your omnipresent brain
Show me there's a reason for your wanting me to die:
You're far too keen on where and how,
But not so hot on why.

5:12am, 22 April 2009
Swarthmore, Pennsylvania

He walked through the tall grass in the meadow, back toward the parking lot. A rusty streak on his wrist was the only testimony to the life of the stray cat, which was now buried in the center of the circle of stones in the meadow.

Flowering bushes reached across his path, seemingly too exuberant to restrain their blooms any longer. He pushed them aside, the branches brushing against his arms, his shoulders.

The branches covered the path right up to the edge of the asphalt. He had parked his car right at the mouth of the path: one quick look around, and he popped open the trunk and climbed in.

I'm already on this path. I could still turn around, if I decided to. This place is nice. Maybe I could just stay here. Philadelphia is nearby, there don't seem to be many other bloodsuckers around here to give me crap.

Argh! (Ow. Memo to self: do not bang fist on trunk lid.) No, that won't work.

There's just this hole, right there inside me. *I have to know.*

All, right, I'll die!
Just watch me die!
See how I die!
See how I die!

10:02pm 22 April 2009
Swarthmore, Pennsylvania

He pushed the seat forward as soon as the voices retreated. The folded piece of paper he had used to keep the latch from catching fell. The shadows of the bushes fell across the car, cast by the bright streetlight overhead. He quickly slid out, and shut the seat, getting out of the car.

The breeze here was warmer, almost unexpectedly so. The college was set in an arboretum, so the buildings hid among trees and broad swaths of grass. He still looked young, so the passing students did not think twice about his presence.

He walked aimlessly, gravitating toward the tall belltower that loomed over most of the campus. The slate tower was attached to a square church--now, apparently, a student union--and cloister.

Then, I was inspired.
Now, I'm sad and tired.
After all, I've tried for three years
Seems like ninety.

This just sucks. I really could set up here. These kids don't know me from Adam. I look just like most of them. The fact that I'm going on 41.... None of them would know.

But would I be able to forget him?

Why then am I scared to finish what I started?
What -you- started:
I didn't start it.

The light cast a sliver across the portico when the door opened, then disappeared, leaving it dark. The cloister was barely lit by ambient light, and empty. A lush lawn in the center almost glowed in the half-light, and some flowering pyrrhicanthus dotted the corners. Honeysuckle vines twined around some of the columns, giving off an unearthly scent.

He lay down in the middle of the grass, the peaked roof of the former church on one side, the belltower rising into view on the other. The navy blue of the sky gave way to pinpoints of light, far off in the distance. He spread his arms and legs slightly, splayed out on the lawn, looking up at the night sky.

God, thy will is hard
But you hold every card
I will drink your cup of poison
Nail me to your cross and break me
Bleed me beat me kill me take me now
Before I change my mind.

Sometimes, there is no choice.

Sometimes, your heart leaves you no choice.

*Now*. Before I change my mind!

3:33am, 26 April 2009
Manchester New Hampshire

The German heavy metal cut off as the car pulled into the Super 8 on the south end of town.

No turning back now.

[Lyrics: "Gethsemane," from Jesus Christ Superstar.]