The End (Part 1)

I would say sorry, but I know that it really won't cut it. But still I'm sorry.


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The path was familiar but still, the figure trudged along it as if every step took conscious thought. The sky was a startling crystal blue, but it could have been raining meteors for all the notice the man took of it.


His appearance was one that those who knew him would never imagine possible. His black hair was long and unkempt, he had a scruffy beard and his clothes were disheveled as if he had slept in them. He might have, he wouldn't have registered if he had.


When he reached the headstone, he stopped and stared down at the carved name. The lifeless words. Words as dead as the one beneath it.


Donovan stood there, stone like all the reminders of lives around him. He didn't cry. He didn't rage. He didn't plea. He didn't scream. All those phases of grief were behind him. What lay in front of him was a vast void of nothingness.


For the past two months, he made this trip, needing to be reminded that it was true. Even when the empty spot in the bed beside him, the other toothbrush by the sink, the left side of the closet with her clothes, the second pair of boxing gloves all told him it was true.


Still, he needed to see the gravestone, feel the words carve themselves into him each time.


Stare down at the place where his heart was buried.


Fresh flowers lay beside the headstone. Steve and Maggie must have brought Kennedy there. They had wrapped Kennedy into their arms and given her a place in their home after seeing the empty form their son-in-law had become.


Donovan wished he had felt the absence of his daughter. But he no longer felt anything.


The life around him kept turning because of the people around him. The apartment was clean because Clint and Eva appeared once a week to do it. There was food in the fridge because Brock and Ashley stopped by to fill it. He had company every couple of days because James and Ali sat with him. People talked to him, but he was never sure if he talked back. If he did, he didn't know what he said.


There wasn't an empty hole inside Donovan, there was simply nothing there at all.


A cutting wind blow across the cemetery, chilling his face, but he didn't feel it. He remained staring down at Carter's grave, barely breathing.


To the figure hidden in a grove of trees yards away, it looked like Donovan would never move again, planted in the ground like the headstone.


Carter watched Donovan, helpless. She couldn't go to him. Couldn't take away his pain. Couldn't caress his face. Couldn't press his hand to her cheek so he could feel the warmth, the life. Couldn't brush his hair away from his forehead. Couldn't stare into his eyes. Couldn't tell him that the beard didn't look good. Couldn't move from her hiding spot, despite the way her heart bled for him.


"Carter."


The voice in her ear spoke with a gentle tone, seeing what she saw and knowing the way it cut into her.


"We have to go."


"Five more minutes," she whispered.


"If you're spotted..."


She nodded, knowing the repercussions. Knowing why two months ago she'd been forced to leave her family behind, leave them with the lie of her death. For them. For their safety. Swallowing hard against the stone in her throat, she pushed herself away from the tree that shielded her, physically needing to force herself away. With each step towards the car, she felt herself breaking in two.


When she climbed into the car, Mason glanced at her but didn't say a word. Silently, they drove out of the cemetery, a baseball cap pulled low over Carter's face to conceal it from any watching eyes. They left the city limits and drove empty roads until they reached a cabin hidden away. Carter stepped out of the car, the sharp smell of pine flooding the air and her nose. Inside the cabin was mostly bare. It was a safe house that she had lived in since the car accident that supposedly she died in. There was no sign of photos or personal touches to the place. She hadn't changed anything, not wanting this to feel permanent.


She walked to the table in the center of the cabin and stared down at the blueprints, the files, the pages of notes that were all her ticket back to her life. Back to Kennedy. Back to Donovan.


Mason walked to the small kitchen and made coffee. He didn't speak. It was a trait Carter hadn't imagined Mason possessed. But it was something she had discovered over the two months. Along with his talent for making coffee, finding pieces of information some would say it was impossible to find, and winning every poker game they had.


When he set down a mug of steaming coffee before her, she didn't touch it. Mason settled into a chair across from her, eyeing her over the rim of his mug. Carter stared at the papers in front of her but couldn't see them. All she could see was the lifeless way Donovan gazed at her headstone.


The crunch of wheels on the dirt road, made Carter glance up, already reaching for her gun. Mason didn't move, not at all alarmed.


"It's just them," he said.


Carter relaxed, setting her gun down. Three pairs of footsteps crossed the drive and clambered up the creaky wooden stairs to the cabin. The new arrivals didn't knock, simply walked in. Carter returned her attention to the table before she could see them. Right then it was too hard, they all had aspects of Donovan in their faces and she couldn't bear.


At Carter's lack of greeting, all three Keller brothers looked to Mason for an answer.


"We went to the cemetery today," he said.


Carter clenched her fists and closed her eyes, feeling claws dig into her chest. Clint crossed to her and before she could fight it, he pulled her into his arms. Carter went, knowing she needed this.


"You should have told me," she said, her voice choked with tears.


Clint held her tighter, putting all his brotherly love into the action.


"You know why we couldn't," he said.


Carter did know. If she had been aware of how broken Donovan really was she might have jeopardized everything she worked for to contact him. Which could have meant his death.


The only reason Brock, Clint, and James knew was because when the men working for O'Malley had stopped watching them. They had then been clued into Carter's secret. Since then they had been part of her life in a way she hadn't ever expected. They were her support and lifeline to all the ones she loved.


When Clint pulled back, Brock stepped up beside him and laid a hand on Carter's shoulder.


"It ends tonight. Remember that. We are getting you home. We're so close. O'Malley won't be able to do anything to you or Donovan or Kennedy or anyone else after this."


Carter needed the reminder like she needed to get home. She met each gaze of the men in the cabin with her and nodded.


"Alright, let's finish this."


*****


Carter crept across the rooftop, Brock keeping pace with her. Their treads were soundless, nothing but the night wind to be heard. Beneath their feet, they could feel the vibrations of the club a few floors below. Though the walls were too thick to hear the music, they felt the thumping of the bass.


"Let me know when you're in position," Mason said in Carter's ear.


As they reached the edge of the building, Carter peered over. The window below her was dark. She crouched down, pressing her back into the rough stone ledge.


Brock knelt next to her, unslinging the black duffle bag from around his shoulders. He handed Carter a harness and she stepped into it as he pulled out a coil of thick rope and his own harness. When they were in place, Carter ready to scale the wall, she spoke.


"We're in position."


"Affirmative. SWAT is surrounding the building."


Carter waited for the go-ahead, her heart pounding. Not with anticipation but with need. They were so close to it all being over and all she could think about was the end. Brock squeezed her arm.


"Focus, we're not done yet," he said.


Carter let out a slow breath, realigning her thoughts. Nothing could go wrong tonight. That meant everything had to be pushed from her mind, even Donovan. Carter flexed and curled her hands, letting adrenaline surge through her, putting her on alert.


Nothing but this night, this building, this mission mattered. She had nothing but this.


With each inhale and exhale, she guarded herself against intrusive thoughts of what could go wrong, what would it mean if they didn't succeed, what she would do if she couldn't get back to her family. All of it was blocked from her mind.


When Mason's voice filled her ear, she was ready.


"SWAT move. Carter breach."


With a nod from Brock, Carter hoisted herself over the ledge of the roof and dropped down the side of the building. The street below her was dizzily far away, but she didn't think about it. All she focused on was the wall beneath her feet, the zipping sound of the rope running through her harness and the window growing closer with each second.


When she reached it, she locked the rope in place, leaving her hands free, and her body hovering thirty stories above the pavement. Unhooking a picklock set from her belt, she worked on the window until she heard a faint pop. Gently, she pried the window up and slipped inside. She unstrapped the rope, tugged on it once, and watched as it disappeared overhead.


In the blackness of the room, she moved to the opposite side and tucked herself into a corner. She didn't have to wait long before she heard the pounding of footsteps and the door slammed open. A light burst into life and Carter squinted against the sudden brightness.


Driven with panic, Frank O'Malley, crime boss and threat to Carter's family, didn't even glance around the room as he entered. Instead, he headed straight for the safe at the back. Carter waited. This was what she was here for, catch O'Mally too early and they would never get what was in the safe.


When Carter heard a soft click, she raised her gun and stepped out of the hiding spot. With the barrel pointed at O'Malley's back, she eased the office door shut and locked it. No need to have his bodyguards rushing in. Hearing the lock engage, O'Malley swung around, freezing when he saw Carter. His face paled.


"You're supposed to be dead," he said.


"Then I'm the ghost of crimes past."


O'Malley's eyes flickered to his desk.


"Do it," she said. "I would love a reason to stop your heart after all you've put me through. What you've made me put my family through."


Seeing the unwavering resolve in Carter's eyes, O'Malley put his hands up.


"What happens now?" he asked.


Behind her, Carter heard the shout of SWAT charging through the building, clearing out the scum. And for the first time in two months, Carter smiled as she held O'Malley's eyes.


"I get to go home."


********


Carter walked into a dark apartment. The moon hung low in the sky, sending pale blue light in through the windows. For a moment, she stood in front of the door, taking in the feeling of coming home. Nothing had changed, but somehow all of it had. She could feel the air of sorrow. Able to dispel it finally, she stepped out of her shoes and padded her away to Donovan's and her bedroom.


When she pushed the door open, Donovan didn't stir. Even as she rounded the bed, he didn't move. Carter's heart twisted, knowing that two months before he would have been awake at the sound of the front door opening. But now he slept with no sense of alertness. As if he stopped caring whether someone attacked him or not.


A piece of moonlight fell across his face. In sleep, he should have looked peaceful, but his brow wrinkled in grief and pain. Carter settled onto the edge of the mattress and whispered his name. Slowly, he opened his eyes.


A million reactions to Donovan seeing her had played out in Carter's mind over the previous two months. Except for the one she got.


Donovan did nothing.


"Hi," she said, softly.


"You came back."


Carter wanted to laugh and cry at the emotionless tone in which Donovan said this.


"Of course I came back."


Donovan blinked but still, he didn't seem surprised or excited to see her.


"I always fear that one night you won't show up," he said.


Carter didn't say anything, not sure what he meant. Before she could find words, Donovan went on.


"I don't know what I'll do when one night you won't visit me. I wonder if I'll simply stop being because you will be gone forever."


It hit Carter then what he meant. This wasn't the first time Donovan had seen her. His grief had conjured her for him over and over again. He thought she wasn't real.


Almost choking on her words, she reached out and touched his face.


"I'm real."


Donovan closed his eyes at the caress, losing himself in it.


"You always are," he whispered.


"Donovan, I'm here. It's really me."


Donovan opened his eyes, the blue deepened with grief. "Don't go just yet. Please stay with me."


Tears rolled down Carter's cheeks as the quiet desperation in his voice. She brushed back the hair on his forehead.


"I'm not going anywhere. I'm really here. I'm alive. None of the car accident was real. It was fake."


He watched as Donovan swallowed hard, fighting down his own pain. "Don't. Don't play with me. I can't..."


Now Carter felt her own desperation, fearing that somehow she really lost Donovan, that grief took him from her. She moved closer and held his face.


"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. Your life. Kennedy's life was in danger. I had to disappear. But I'm here. I'm back. I'm not leaving you."


Donovan shook his head. "You died. I know you died."


Carter could see him struggling, trying to grasp what she said as it battled with what he'd forced himself to remember every day for two months.


"I'm alive."


Carter kissed his face, feeling the beard scratching against her skin.


"It's me."


Donovan accepted her kisses but didn't return them. "I can't do this. I can't live seeing and feeling you only in my mind."


Staring into his eyes, Carter felt her heart shattering. "You won't. I'm here. I'm not in your mind."


"How do I know anymore?"


The question was a plea, a want to escape the hell in his mind but still keep her with him. Carter stroked his face, running her hand over his scruffy jaw. A weak smile came to her lips.


"Because I will tell you something no imaginary me would know to say." She kissed him gently. "You have to get rid of the beard."


Donovan froze, his gaze locked on her. Slowly, like the rising of the sun, Donovan sat up, never once tearing his eyes from her. With shaking hands, he reached out and touched her cheek, felt the dampness of her skin from her tears. He blinked, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. Carter laid a hand on his chest, his heart thundering under her palm. Donovan covered her hand with one of his.


"Carter?"


"Hi, handsome."


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*hides behind Captain America's shield* Stop throwing stuff at me, someone asked for this, so blame them.


*peeks over shield* You done yet? *gets a tomato to the face*


Now that you have thrown all that you want to throw, why don't you throw me your thoughts on the chapter. 💭🗯💬😭


I have to say when I wrote that first scene all I could think about was that moment in Sherlock. If you watch the show with Benedict Cumberbatch you know what I am talking about.


I didn't add Kennedy into this because I really wasn't sure how old I wanted her to be, so that's why I kept it vague.


Another random note, the whole last scene with Donovan completely surprised me. I thought he would instantly be excited to see Carter. Funny how things turn out... Or maybe depressing.


I hope you don't hate me forever for this chapter. Sorry about the tears.


It's ok, you don't have to vote, comment or follow. Knowing that I've emotionally scarred you is enough to keep me going.

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