Claimers: I own them, just
me, because I'm just a girl.
Disclaimers: No Doubt own
a partial amount of the above line, not me.
Comments: Villains only seem truly
bad because they are one dimensional.
Title: Godsmack own the line.
It's from 'Going Down'.
Jude's POV
LaOC XXV - Making Sure I'm Alright?
Yeah, I'm Fine
'You have any special plans for the fight,
Jude?'
You have no idea.
'Yes, I have one or two. I'll be keeping them
in here for now.'
I tap my head.
Alegra's not the brightest pin in the pack.
Sweet, just not very clever.
'Shit, I'm late. I have to get going for that
course thing that Elle has us on. I'll see you later.'
I watch her running off.
Alegra; such a good Angel.
Never a disappointment.
Perhaps it's best if she finds some new friends,
especially coming up to the Challenge.
Don't want her getting tainted with the same
brush.
I get up and make my way to my office.
I used to love the halls.
So white and pure, seemed to optimise our life
here.
Until...
I push the thoughts out of my mind.
Less than two weeks 'til the big fight.
Less than two weeks 'til the anniversary of...
It's strange how no-one has remembered.
Only me.
As if I was the only one who cared.
I wasn't the only one who cared about you,
but it feels that way.
I open my door and enter my office; my sanctuary.
I leave the main light off and turn the desk
lamp on.
Sitting down in at my desk, I open my drawer
and take your picture out.
I hold it carefully, smoothing the ragged edges
out.
Almost three years.
And in that time so much has changed.
I've changed.
You'd hate me now, I know you would.
You'd detest what I have become.
I rest my head down, and prop your picture
up so I can look at you.
It seems so long ago that I could look at the
real you.
Or touch you.
I can't even remember what your hair felt like
between my fingers now.
My one physical piece of you is becoming tattered
and faded.
Soon I won't even have this.
A copy, perhaps, but it won't be the same.
You won't have touched it, held it.
A knock at my door snaps me out of my dance
with the past.
'Come in.'
Elle.
Time to become Jude again.
I put your photograph face down.
I don't want you to have to see me this way.
'Jude, I want an explanation of your behaviour
in my reception with Dizzy.'
She sits down in a chair and she looks decidedly
pissed.
She's only protecting what she loves.
Something that I should have done more diligently.
'I have none, your eminence.'
'Not the answer I want. Try another.'
You want a reason, fine, I'll pluck one out
of the air.
'We were sparring, things got a little out
of hand. Your eminence.'
What a ridiculous reason.
And she thinks so as well.
She gets up and I see her irritation level
building.
'I will not have you behaving like that, Jude.
You are still one of my Angels. For the moment.'
'And Dizzy is still one of your Angels...
for the moment.'
I regret my words even as they leave my mouth.
But with every good plan comes sacrifices.
And her love is mine.
She turns round, raising a hand, and fires
a small bolt out.
I manage to dive to the floor just in time,
as it hits the desk where I was.
Smoke and the smell of burning covers us both.
Perhaps my plan needs to be reconsidered and...
NO!
I get up as quickly as I can, trying to put
the flames out on my desk.
No, please, it's all I have left.
But I see it, the small charred remains of
the picture.
And you're not there anymore.
You're gone, just like you were before.
All I can see is the background where you stood.
You're gone.
I can't even see your face now.
The stab of pain hits me again, as with the
first time I was told you were gone.
'Did I burn your office calendar, Jude? I'll
get you a new one.'
I feel tears falling from my eyes, and
I simply hold the tiny piece of your picture in my hands.
It seems I am to lie in the bed I have made.
'No smart retorts?'
I turn round quickly, and I can feel her hatred
towards me.
But I only have these words.
For they are all that matters.
'It's all I had left.'
My hand holds out the small piece of picture.
So small now.
She looks at me, confused, then I feel her
in my mind.
It's like a caress; gentle and soft.
Her eyes go wide as she remembers about you.
You had to go again for someone else to think
of you.
Ironic.
'Jude, I didn't... '
'Can you leave, your eminence? I need to clear
up in here.'
There's a lot to clear up now.
So much.
You've inspired tears from God again.
You would have hated it, to have made her this
upset.
Her hands remove the small remnant that I'm
still holding.
'Take it, your eminence. You burned it, you
earned it. Now if you don't mind, I have to...'
'Jude, I have no excuse. I'm so sorry. I should
have remembered.'
'Sorry doesn't help me. Please leave.'
You would have hated me now, crying for you
so much.
Almost three years and I still do it.
I begin to clean my desk up, sweeping your
ashes into a little pile.
'I'm sorry, about the...'
'Leave!'
After an age, she puts what's left of you down
on my desk and does as I ask.
And I am finally alone, with all that I have
left of you.
Dust to dust, ashes to ashes.
I push most of what's left into the bin, and
say goodbye to you.
Then I pick the small piece of photograph up.
I slowly feel myself sink to the floor
as I cry over losing you again.