I Love You; Goodbye

from Once Out of Time, Chapter the Third

You asked me that night, if I would haunt you 'til you gave me your forgiveness.  I think you know the answer to that by now.  But I kept to my end of the bargain, didn't I?  I never followed you, never came to you; for so very long I let you have your way.  And could you blame me?  You didn't need to make me swear an oath on it; after the things you said in Maggiore, I truly didn't want to see you again.  Ever.  I certainly didn't expect you to be on that jet when it landed in Houston.

In Rome, I told you all that mattered was keeping things in perspective: a place for everything, and everything in its place.  That's all that this is: a tidying up of loose ends.  Or did you honestly believe I'd spend my life waiting for you to admit you were wrong, and play your punching bag in the meanwhile?  I know your pride will never allow it.  And I learned early on it was easier by far to simply let go and move on.

So I have, and there's no turning back.  Not now.

Maybe right now you're thinking you've changed your mind: that you're ready to listen, to forgive.  But it's too late.  Perhaps if you'd had it in your heart—do you even have a heart?—to say those words sixteen years ago when I needed to hear them, when they might have meant something… but not now.  I don't think I can, anymore; I don't think I'd survive it, if you just decided to shred my soul again…

Still…

When you met me at the door that night I came back, demanding to know what you'd done to be dealt such treachery… You blindsided me, you know.  Of all the things I'd expected you might say that was never one of them.  I thought you trusted me more than that.  What was the point to all the deception, all the lies, you asked me.  Was it something you'd done to offend me, or had I simply grown bored and wanted an out…

Had I been looking for an out, damn it, I never would have come back to Italy in the first place.  There was never anyone else, and regardless of what you believe, I never betrayed you. The reason I left—the only reason—was because it had become too dangerous to stay.

I don't know what—if anything—Jason told you about my past, how we met, the work that I did.  Still do, when I must, but has there ever been another choice?  You were right when you supposed that I was keeping secrets from you; but not the secrets you thought.  It was… I couldn't find the words to explain it to you, to make you understand something so completely beyond your black-and-white worldview.  Truly.  You had enough trouble dealing with your own Syndicati heritage; you didn't need my problems as well…

But I suppose you have a right to know, after all.

It started, as many things did in those days, with Jarret Haliday.  He had worked once for an international organization rather similar in purpose and origins to your Syndicati; but Haliday was loyal to no one but himself.  Against orders from his superiors, he engaged in a series of genetics experiments—on human subjects—with the intent to breed an army of super-soldiers, subservient to his will.  Hire them out as professional killers.

He chose us for the Gifts passed down in our families through the ages: our strengths, and the Power we wielded.  But he made a single, fatal mistake.  He forgot that like calls to like, and that we Gifted defend our own.  We were only children, but we fought back, and left his project in shambles.  Then we let ourselves grow complacent, believing that since he'd left us alone for so long, the war was over and we were free.  How wrong we were!

That last summer we spent at the lake, word came that Haliday was alive and well.  And hunting.  Hunting for Jason's family and for Leo's; for mine; and for you.  Not that you held any value for him, but because without you, he knew he'd never be able to get to me.  You were just collateral.  Expendable.  He'd have killed you to get to me, Ricardo, and I couldn't allow that to happen.

So I did the only thing I could think of, to draw his attention away from you.  I ran.  I ran, and prayed to a God I'd stopped believing in years ago that he would follow.  And he did.  And I killed him.  I killed him to protect you.  It was for that which you betrayed me, betrayed us.

But it doesn't matter.

Everything's over but for the last of the shouting; and I'm so tired of all the shouting.  I just want… I don't know what I want, anymore.  I don't think I've got the time left to figure it out, either.

Before you start in on me with your recriminations—I know you will, even if I'm not there to hear them—yes: Jason and Leo knew.  I begged them not to tell you, for both our sakes.  And I suppose maybe I thought I'd find the strength to tell you, in the end.

I've asked the others to take care of you for me—don't protest; you know you'll need it—when the time comes.  One thing only I ask of you in return: live.  Live so that you have no regrets.  Hold on to what you have, and don't let go…

I love you; goodbye.