Desmond reached the tracks.
Behind him, an accumulation of shadows, gathered in the shape of a fist, came down hard. Shattering and twisting the tracks.
He heard her stop running after him to keep him in her field of vision.
Despite himself, he turned his head to check why.
Christina was ripping out the beams. Two beams, one on each tentacle. She threw the beams towards him with great speed.
He dodged the first one with no trouble, but the second one, which came soon after, caught him in the legs, causing him to fall to the ground head first.
He should have slashed it out of the air with his sword.
I'll keep that in mind for next time, he thought as he stood up.
Fuck.
It seemed that Christina was taking this fight too seriously.
That she was too angry, or emotional in general. Well, Desmond wasn't going to die just from hard blows with some beams, but....
Fuck.
"I'm not going to let you destroy your life!" Christina shouted, her voice on the verge of cracking.
"I don't want the last time we see each other... to be this bleak."
"Then give it up already. So it won't be the last time."
But that wouldn't happen.
She wouldn't back down and neither would Desmond . That had been more than clear to both of them for a long time.
That's why there was no warmth in Christina's words.
She didn't really expect that things could still work out that way.
She attacked him.
One shadow after another. A wave of shadows.
Desmond's attempts to defend himself were as pitiful as it would be to try to stem the tide with his hands. But Desmond gave everything he had to fend off that merciless onslaught.
Slashing, swerving, twisting to dodge the shadows coming for him.
All the while he headed for the woods.
In the forest he would lose her, the forest was his only chance. That was what he thought, at least.
But he didn't get that far.
He was knocked down and enveloped in shadows to such an extent, with such force, that he was left unable to move his arms and legs. Now he could only move his head.
The experience made him think of someone's body stuffed into a body bag.
Or inside a coffin, directly.
He felt a shiver.
The moonlight seems colder, more distant and merciless than ever.
The shadows of the night, darker.
Christina brought him in front of her, released him.
"This... doesn't solve anything," Desmond gasped.
He didn't even know how things had ended up this way. It had happened too fast, and he found it hard to believe that they had ended up fighting, for whatever reason.
Finished.
The fight was over.
He had nothing to do, at least for the moment.
Or did he?
Was it okay to give up here just because it looked like she had him pinned down?
He still had his sword.
He could, he could do something, surely, still?
The same as when he fought that shadow.
Break an arm, gaining enough freedom of movement to cut his restraints. He would have to be very fast to escape after that without getting caught again.
But it was, at least, theoretically possible?
He had to bet on that.
"Desmond, that's enough." Christina had barely moved, but she was breathing hard. "That's enough. Please. That's crazy."
Desmond did it.
Like last time, he broke free. Christina tried to catch him again in the same way and he hadn't gotten very far.
He was still close enough to hit her in the face with his elbow.
It wasn't with great force, but it was enough to knock her to the ground.
The shadows passed them by, and he was able to put some distance between them, buy some time to, he hoped, escape at once.
He felt like screaming and crying at the same time.
He didn't want this to be their last meeting. He had never imagined that this sweet dream would end this way, but....
But he couldn't go against reality.
He couldn't change what had already happened, which bound him to this path of destruction.
Christina prepared to attack again.
He, to stop the attack. Without stopping for a second, of course.
Ice.
Quickly, spikes of ice blocked the space between them, forcing them apart.
Seeing who had intervened, Desmond lost strength in his legs.
He dropped to one knee on the ground in front of the ice barrier.
"Enough! Why are you fighting?"
Amy.
Amy, of course, had also followed them.
Now the three of them were united.
Desmond ran a hand over his face, wiping the sweat from his face.
Only it wasn't just sweat anymore.
It was getting more bitter by the minute.
"This is the last thing we need right now!"
Desmond lowered his head.
Why did this have to happen, what had he done to deserve so much shit?
Maybe...
Maybe he should be grateful for it, though. To see it as an opportunity.
To apologize. To say goodbye and make things right. Because leaving in the middle of the night, without saying a word, without even leaving a note... there was nothing right about it.
Pure cowardice.
They meant more than that to him.
They deserved more than that.
So it was the least he owed them. The courage to look them in the eye and say goodbye.
Desmond stood up, holding his broken arm, his breathing ragged.
"Listen. I..."
Desmond.
His heart almost stopped.
At last, after so long, Abigail's voice.