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Maybe I really am just so fucked in the head that I can't compute what happened and process it like a normal person would, but then I'm so grateful that I care for him the way that I do because despite what he's done and said and who he's been, I know that he deserves this. We deserve this. This moment - probably one of the only moments in his life aside from the time he's spent with Crow and I when someone has truly, with no ulterior motive, comforted and cared for him.
Liam lifts his head, his hands so gently holding my face as he searches my eyes.
"What was the third thing?" he asks, his voice that of a broken man, which serves to tear me apart even further. All he needed was the right childhood, the right people to love and care for him and this could have been so different. This moment would never have come to be.
I watch him as I speak, taking in every emotion and facial movement he makes. "I forgive you. That's what you need, isn't it? That's what you need to stop this and try for me? I've seen you torture yourself for what you've done. I always thought me being with you was enough but it's not and that's OK because I forgive you. I thank you. I want you. I'm glad that you did what you did," I tell him lightly, the words barely above a whisper. I know he's heard though; I hear his breathing stop and sigh as he places his forehead against mine.
He moves his hands so that he has one behind me, keeping me steady and the other on my hand, my wrist, the one that I forgot was still holding the knife and the moment I look back into his eyes, I know what's coming.
"No, no, not yet. I can't do it, not yet. We can get out, Liam. We can get out," I rush out, my chest filling and feeling heavy as more tears shed from my eyes and I try to escape his grip on me. I move and shift my body, trying to fight his hold on me as he does what he sees as the inevitable.
"It's time now, baby, it's time to say goodbye," he tells me as he guides my hand and in turn the knife towards his chest with enough pressure that I feel his body’s weak attempt to fight it before he gives in as he slowly presses the knife further into himself. I fight it, using my body and my hand in an attempt to stop it but even as I manage to pull myself away, I realise that it's too late. He's stabbed himself in the chest. His hand is on the knife. In my struggle to get away and stop him, he took the knife from me and did the job I'd been sent here to do himself - so that I didn't have to.
The blood is covering both of our hands as I reach for him and cry in his arms, his arms never leaving me.
"The next time our souls meet, I'll be a better man, I'll be what you need but right now I'm going to go and tell our baby how much we love them," he tells me in between his gasps for breath.
His face is becoming so pale as I try to pull the knife out from his grasp and chest and yet even with the pain he must be in, he still manages to stop me, to continue the murder of himself.
"I don't want you to go. I want you to stay," I tell him, my head shaking from one side to the other as I pull my hand away from the knife and the contact his calloused hand has with it as my eyes fill over and over again with tears that I don't even attempt to hide or keep inside.
"Will you stay until I go?" he rasps out, his eyes filled with a vulnerable hope I wish I could memorise and keep.
"Always." I nod, letting him put his arms around me one last time as I put my head against his chest and hold onto him with every bit of strength I have in the naive hope that some miracle will come and save him. Save me. Save us.
"I, I, ugh." I lift my head to look into his dimming eyes as he attempts to speak, his breathing becoming haphazard and uneven as the space around us becomes wet with his blood.
"I love you. Forever mine," he tells me as I watch his eyes dim and flutter closed for longer than I'd like.
"I know. I love you too." I have no idea if this was the moment I was waiting for, if fate knew that the words were needed now. I only know that it feels right at this moment to tell him. I know that he needs to hear it, and I need to be the one who says it.
I hold his face in my hands, bringing my tear covered wet lips to his in what I wish was a greeting but is instead a goodbye. I take in his last breath as I pull my lips away, watching his eyes take me in one last time before they close and his breathing halts completely, his eyes closing as my chest feels like it's being ripped apart, pressed down on and squeezed simultaneously.
I don't move from his lap, holding his hand and clinging to his shirt as I pull his arms back around me, taking in the comfort he offers for what I know will be the last time as I sob into his still chest, missing the heartbeat that kept mine beating in sync from only moments ago.
He's not gone though. He's not gone. Not yet. No. He's not gone. Not yet.
I move his arms from around me and stand, adrenaline kicking in when I finally realise that in order to save him, I need to move. I check his breathing, thankful that although low and irregular that he is still breathing.
He's still here. He's not dead. Yet
I go to the door and bang, over and over again, shouting and screaming and willing my body to make as much noise as I can while pushing the weight of my body against the metal door frame with hopes that something may budge. Or if nothing else, that someone will get fed up and see what's going on.
What I didn't expect was to have the door open and find Crow standing there.
"Crow." My mind seems to blank at the reality of what's happening finally sinking in.
Liam is in a literal puddle of his own blood and Crow - somehow, by some miracle is here.
"I need help. He's got a knife wound. We need a doctor," I tell him as I rush back over to Liam, taking my hoodie off as I do and covering him with it.
"Get the doctor!" Crow yells out the door as he joins me and lifts Liam off the ground, cradling him like a baby.
They might have an unconventional relationship, but I know that Crow isn't wanting to save Liam just for my sake anymore. They've connected on more levels than I could have ever hoped for.
Twenty-Nine
Charlie
