~What a bummer~ ((Closed))

The soothing sound of running water soothed the residents of the walkway. It cuddled the ears of all and kept them company, especially the ones who had none. Terry was certainly one of these individuals, more by choice than failure though. He walked, aimlessly down the walkway, his hood hanging over his head in case rain decided to surprise attack. His x'ed fingerless gloves were stuffed in his pockets as he stumbled up the path. The paleness in his eyes grew ever more evident the closer he got to that damned holiday.

Valentines day.

He'd spent three with Amy, his late fiance.

The first he'd remembered that it was a rainy day. His slob of a father had denied him access to the car, but that didnt stop him. He walked seven miles in the rain just to deliver the flowers he had bought her. It was pathetic in a way. When he reached her door, the downpour had made him sopping wet and flowers hung heavy and wilted. The gesture of devotion drove Amy's heart wild though, and she easily forgave him.

The second, he'd remembered that it was soon after her mother had been murdered. She was drenched in tears, never leaving her bed. Terry couldn't bring himself to even fake a smile those few weeks that Amy was consumed with dread. So, in the middle of the night, he surprised her by arriving at her window at 3 am, dropping off chocolates. He smiled at the remark ," Hey, *sniff* these ones are dry,"

The third was the best. That was the night he lost his virginity to her. His father was out on a heist job to which Terry had skipped out on just to see Amy. Terry gave Amy a ring that day, promising a marriage in the future. Elated was an understatement to her reaction. It was as if her life became complete on that promise, to which they acutely celebrated.

But now, Terry walks alone. His promise, never fulfilled. The promise of a life time had been stopped in its tracks by only a single piece of lead. He sighed, walking faster to try and wear down the building pains. It seemed like every second he saw the image of him, holding his fiance in his arms. It flashed over and over in the back of his mind in graphic detail.

She started bleeding so fast. It gushed from her like a water main break. He tried to hold it down; his tears mixing with the blood. Amy gargled like some tortured animal, blood flooding out of her mouth. Her eyes looked to him, begging him to do something with a single scared look. But deep down, they both knew that it was over. Their dreams, their promises, their lives were over.

"Dammit..!" Terry growled beneath his breath. He needed to rest. The college student stumbled over to the stone railing, resting himself on it so he could use all his energy to battle the gutting memories. Using his hands, Graves swatted away his long hair and rubbed his face. With a heavy sigh, the flashback momentarily stopped.

His pale cerulean eyes scanned his surroundings. Terry spotted a gorgeous red headed woman, the same color Amy had had, sitting quaintly on a bench. She had a far off look in her eye, as if she was stripping the ocean of all of its titles. He knew that look all too well. He had felt it many times before. That look when he closes out the world, deep in thought. That look he has when he's battling himself over his feelings.

"Love? You can't love. Your love was Amy Brock and always will be." he remembered one argument his mind fought him with.

"Look at you, you're miserable. You cannot go on safely without love in your love." Terry recalls the retort to that argument.

Terry stared at her, feeling great pity for the woman. His feelings couldn't have been as near as severe as his were, but he certainly knew that that feeling was horrid to experience. Always wanting something that you can never have. Always striving to be happy but held back by your conflicting feelings. It was a tough life to live.

The young man wish he could just walk up and hug the poor woman, lie and say everything was going to be alright. He'd lost anyone who would say it to him, but he was sure it'd help if someone did. But alas, the flawless woman was a stranger and he couldn't simply embrace a random person, even if he did see struggle within their eyes.

That was the worst part of being a hero: Being able to save so many, reveals how many you cannot.


(Hope it was okay to post here, it said open so I did but if you dont want me on here I could always skedaddle )

Terry suddenly gasped, not realizing his gaze had lingered on the woman. His mind was such a mess that he couldnt even discern reality from memory from time to time. He barely noticed she had moved until she was right up in his face talking with him.

His pale eyes widened. The slight scruff on the edge of his jaw line got goosebumps as he zoned back into the reality around him. The woman was standing before him; her cherry red hair blowing slightly in the wind. That same hair Terry had always had a fondness for. But now, it only brought back grim memories.

Graves stammered quickly for a response; a slight flush burning his cheeks from embarrassment. He tucked his hand behind his head, pretending he had an itch to divert her attention from his face( in hopes that she wouldn't notice his flustered state).

"Oh... uh ... sorry mam, I didn't mean to stare .. I'm no perv I promise! I just zoned that's all," Terry stammered, clumsily throwing together a plea.

"Smooth one Graves...," His mind mocked him.

He had been so lost in his bewildering mind he had barely heard anything the beauty had said. Great, now he was perverted and rude? Awesome, yet another thing Terry had failed. A heavy sigh released from his throat, turning to a slight fog in the chilly winter air.

"Look, I'm sorry I swear I wasn't."

(I've always seen Terry as a dirty blonde/light brown haired guy but I didnt specify, sorry!)

Terry pulled away, almost instinctively. He shook slightly, the guilt of being touched by another woman shaking him. His heart felt frozen as he backed up against the railing. He tried to seem as normal and polite as possible, but he knew he'd failed terribly at that.

Graves just couldn't be touched by another woman. He already had one, or so it felt still. Even the slightest abrasion by a girl made him insane with merciless guilt. He was being sucked into a darkness that seemed to grip him by the soul and tug as hard as it could.

But even now, it was a terrible struggle. This woman, she reminded him so much of his fallen Amy. Her flaming red hair, her cheeks, upon endless other similarities. It was driving him insane because it felt as if he was looking upon a more curvy, more built version of his lost love. The swelling of his heart and soul grew by the second.

Terry wanted to run. Run like a bat out of hell. He felt as if death would claim him at that second if he did not do so. His wreck of an apartment and its torn old fold out couch sounded so perfect right now. He needed a place to just curl up and rest from his mental onslaught. That's what he needed most now.

But Terry couldn't leave.

He had actually been listening to the woman this time. He heard every word of what she said. Terry was looking right at her too, despite how chaotic the storm in his heart was raging. She stammered ever so slightly when she hit that last sentence. The young man understood it as a gust of sarcasm, but the wind whispered to him a hidden pain that this woman held. The way the almost unnoticeable quake in her voice echoed volumes to his keen hearing. Terry noticed it in her eyes though.

Terry had looked upon the mirror many mornings. One characteristic about him he had always noticed the difference in since his angel's death was his eyes. His eyes went from a vibrant, ocean blue to almost a pale gray. When the beauty spoke, her eyes shifted, so slight that no normal person could ever notice. But Terrance had watched his eyes do it so many times that he almost looked for it in other people. And in one fourth of a second, he spotted a slight discoloration in her stunning eyes. The glistening glaze they held lost their sparkle for just one moment.

She was hurt. And Terry couldn't run away from someone who was hurt.

It was impossible.

"No no...! That's not it at all mam! I just... I'm just a little stressed right now so my mind drifted. It was nothing you did at all. I promise..," He stammered, trying to uplift her spirit even though she had cleverly tucked back beneath her facade.

Terry looked at the woman as she walked away.

"Really? That's it? That's all?" He questioned in his head. She had filled him with inspiration, just a passing stranger had made him think. Graves turned to her. He looked befuddled at this woman. Why would she try to inspire him and just walk away like that? Wasn't there a point to it? Wasn't she going to elaborate?

Terry sped up to her, flipping down his hood in respect to the beauty. He stepped in front of her, eying her cultivating orbs that looked back at him.

"Hey! Is that it? You didn't even let me thank y-." That was all he could say. Hoshi found herself with a red spray suddenly jumping towards her. Terry's eyes widened as he almost instantly collapsed to the pavement. Blood was gushing everywhere. Graves grunted without a single scream. The pain was so sharp and sudden that he had no chance to. He gasped on the sidewalk, looking up to Hoshi in horror.

Terry had been shot.

Shock.

Only shock laid in his bleeding chest.

His eyes glazed over and became practically soulless.

He clung to her as the ran, not because he wanted to, but because the pain was wrenching him so badly that he needed a source of distraction. It wasn't working. It felt like someone had made a hole in his heart and tried jamming knife after knife within it. He'd ran into some really bad injuries while he was Dusk, but this was Terry. Terry didn't have the stamina and durability that he did while he was suited up. Dawning upon the suit now wouldn't be of any help, it simply prevented injury, not healed it.

His ears were ringing. He remembered slightly hearing the echo of the bullet. Graves thought nothing of it. And it cost him. His body was gasping for air, shock tensing his body tight. He would apologize for the tight grip on the beauty later, if there was a later that is...

Part of him told him not to think that way. The other knew that if he passed, he'd finally be able to see his beloved angel once again. Was it wrong that he felt so impartial to death? Yes, because Terrance knew deep down that he was a hero and the people of Earth needed his help. He couldn't die now. Not until his hero days were over.

Things were beginning to get cold and blurry. He got the chills from head to toe. He couldn't see a thing, just slurring colored outlines. It was certain that his consciousness was slowly slipping away from him. Terry could barely hear anymore, only catching certain snippets of what people were saying. A curse word here, a shout there. Reality was out of his reach by now.

He didn't understand. Terry knew millions of reasons that men would shoot Dusk. But him? His normal self? Who the hell would want him dead? He barely knew or talked to anyone. Outcast was a light term for how he lived his life. Yet, someone has deliberately sought to put an end to Terrance Christopher Graves's life. Not Dusk's. Something was very wrong here.

He barely felt the table he was slammed on. At least he thought it was a table. His sense of touch was slowly fading from him. His eyes, more pale than they had ever been, gazed aimlessly up into... what was that? The sky?

Great... He was seeing "the light".

"No no no... Not now! GOD NOT NOW!" His mind pleaded with the Lord to spare him so he could continue keeping his children safe. His skin was going pale as he shook like he was experiencing a seizure. He coughed up blood, forcing it to stream down the sides of his chin.

Terry felt a gentle warmth on his left hand. It soothed him, but only slightly. There was nothing soothing about dying. Wasn't the general idea that gun shots delivered quick painless deaths? Who ever made up that idea was wrong. It was horrifyingly painful.

The lights were getting brighter. He could only see smearing colors were objects should be. His breathing was fading.

He looked to his left, seeing a maiden with long red hair, glowing eyes. She must be the one who is holding his hand. The blurriness had somehow made it obvious to him who this woman was. A smile escaped his gargling mouth.

"A-a-amy...?"

The light was getting brighter over him. He could barely discern what reality was anymore. It was all just bright colors that swirled about.

Suddenly, the lips of heaven pressed down upon him. He felt their feather soft grace and their perfect grasp. It was a natural instinct to surrender himself to the lips of this angel. Terry looked to see what must of been his love here to comfort him as he passed to her world.

"I-i-its.... o-k-k-k..ay... I'll.. I'll be w-with you... soon...," the young man weakly spoke, almost pleased with death being at his door step. With what was left of his strength, his shaking, bloody arms reached out and clasped his fiance that he had missed every second of his existence since the moment she passed. A warmth washed over him, drowning the pain that was quickly killing him. For the first time in months, he was happy. Really truly happy.

He almost couldn't believe it. Terry had waited for this day for eons it seemed. The day his guardian angel would hover down from Heaven and claim him to the land where the Son and the Father presided over. He had always dreamed of what heaven would look like. Graves also wondered whether the light up there would blind him to Amy's flawless features. From where he laid, it looked as if it was. It made him chuckle slightly, which resulted in a husky gargle.

The room was growing dark around him, like those old cartoons that used to close their episodes that way. Except this was more dark and slithered. This must of been the part where his spirit escaped his body and rose to Heaven. He smiled, almost idiotically, knowing that his angel would make his voyage safely. He clung to her like there was no end. His eyes closed gently, feeling what true joy was overcome his entire body.

Everything went black.

His maiden angel suddenly blackened out into a blackened violet blur. He gasped, blood disappearing from his mouth. His eyes seemed to whiten over right before Hoshi's eyes. It looked as if clouds had claimed his eye sight. He suddenly stopped breathing, his heart going flat as he heard a single sentence.

”Terry... You are not going... I am sorry but you must move on from Amy... There are better things..”

His cheek began to twitch ever so slightly. But it grew, more chaotic by the second. His breathing suddenly picked up like hyperventilation. His heart rate went from flat to running a marathon on speed. His fists clenched hard, catching Hoshi off guard with the obvious superhuman strength this young man packed. Terry began shaking, almost vibrating.

Out of no where, his neck bent at a swift ninety degree angle to glare at the beautiful mutant. His eyes were a misty weight, piercing with the pain and agony of the suffering of millions of men. They appeared to glow as the lights in the room began to go haywire. The chandelier began to sway back in forth like it was in a hurricane. All the machines in the room shut off and rolled away. Spontaneous movements filled the room. Chairs flipped. Silverware floated. Candles caught fire, then went lifeless. One thing in common was that all the items seemed to point towards Terry, who was by now nearly hovering off the table vertically. A mysterious fog had somehow rolled into the room. Only Lord knows how that got into the room. It blanketed the whole dining room. The doctors fainted randomly, collapsing to the floor.

With a painful squeeze of her knuckles, Hoshi's attention returned to the disturbing, infiltrating eyes of Terry. They glowed wildly in the darkness. There were no pupils to be found, just solid white orbs that dug into the red head's very being.

"NO."

Terry seemed to explode. His went wild, floating and whipping the new found swirling vortex of cold energy around him. The room became frigid, forcing all breaths to become fog. The energy aura enveloped him and turned him horizontal. The young man floated two feet above the dining table. He was clearly gritting his teeth as the dining table flipped. The floating items in the room began to rotate around his aura of energy. The energy itself seemed to be filled with faces of people screaming and suffering. Some cried, some begged.

Terry's loose jacked whipped and the swift winds created by the vortex of supernatural energy. Forks began to jab into the walls. Tables were smashed into the ceiling, creating wood shavings for rain. These shavings were quickly sucked into the spiral. His eyes were practically exploding with the white glow now.

His mouth extended to speak, almost creating the sound of a thousand men speaking at once.

"I LOVE HER! YOU CANNOT CHANGE THAT!"

The voice seemed to vibrate off Hoshi's very soul. Glass in the vicinity began to shatter and eradicate altogether. What supernatural power had she unleashed?

The hole in his chest virtually never existed. He was completely healed. If anything, he was more healthy than before he was shot. This man had become something else. It was downright terrifying.

I thought the same way when I lost my first... I am merely t-trying to help...

The swirl suddenly evaporated. The screams of millions of dead souls were suddenly silenced as the energy was completely gone. Terry's eyes faded to a pale blue gray. His eyelids descended on his sight and the room ceases to move for a few seconds. The chairs, the tables, the forks, floated for half a second. Then Terry along with all the items, abruptly crashed to the floor, motionless.

Terry gasped aloud, coming to consciousness. He got up quicker than a lightning strike. His hair was wet and hung like a mop over his face. The young man spit some water out from his mouth and looked wide eyed at the man before him. He couldnt keep a focus on the nicely dressed man; the room was spinning too fast.

The young man stumbled to the floor, breaking a glass bowl. He groaned in pain. His body was searing with burning fire. It felt like all his veins were turned inside out. The room was on a permanent tilt to the left, forcing Terry to the ground on every attempt he made to stand.

His whole body had icy chills and he couldnt help but shake as if he'd been in negative degree weather. Terry finally looked up to man looking down at him.

"W-w-what... I-Is Hos-shi s-s-safe? W-Where is s-s-she ?"

Terry stumbled to his feet, clutching his throbbing head. It seemed to have its own bleeding heartbeat. It was so blinding that he completely ignored the fact that he had captured Hoshi's name without once her telling him.

His faded ceruleans gazed across the disaster zone. It looked like World War Three had gone down right here in this dining room. Wait, since when was he in a dining room? He remembered getting shot... then a lot of blurs... then darkness. Nothing much made sense here. He wished he could step back for a moment and take it all in, but the way of the hero has shown him there's never time for that.

"It's fine." is all Terry said, though his mind was racing with things he wanted to say. He wanted to know where he was. What happened to where he was. Why he was healed. Had he been to the hospital? How did he know Hoshi's name? Why was his whole body in pain as opposed to just his chest?

So many questions, yet no answers.

But he knew who would have them. And who he had to thank for his hole disappearing.

Terry gladly took the man's permission.... who ever he was, to go see Hoshi in her bedroom. He walked, almost familiarly towards the woman's room. It was like he'd seen her run there before, but he hadn't right? How did he know all this stuff? Did nearly dying give him some incredible insight or something? He hoped so; it'd certainly make his job so much easier.

The young man stumbled, shivering at the bits. It felt like he'd been left out in the rain for years. The dark hero revealed as a mere boy, teetered and rocked down the hall to her room. He was dripping, but the burning ache in every centimeter of his inner body distracted him from the subtleties.

Terry felt scared and alone. He had been in the comfort of an enticing beauty who reminded him of home one minute and the next he was waking up with some stranger over him while he reeked of pain. Graves had always hated the idea of company since Amy passed, but he never ceased to love how it felt. He was not incapable of love and compassion; he just strayed away from it.

Even now he hated it, the thought of surrendering his softer, weaker side to someone was pathetic. But there he was, mindlessly pattering his bare wet feet down the hall to her room. He couldn't understand why or how. It was as if a mindless force had taken a hold of him and forced him that direction. His body was too torn, too burnt out to resist this unknown feeling. He gave in without protest, allowing himself to meander up to her door.

The knocking came frantic and hurried. Terry didn't ever mean to do so. His body had simply become so weak and sparatic that the knock came out in sort of a panicked tone. He felt embarrassed, but the pain drowned it out quickly. Without even realizing, Graves found his head leaning on the door out of exhaustion.

He heard a gentle sobbing emulating from the other side of the door. The burning pain simmered down as his inner heart came through. He spoke clearly this time, shouting in concern,

"Hoshi, are you alright?!"

”... I didn't mean to do anything, I know you love her, Terry.... enough to die for her... I w-was only trying to save you... from dying... Forgive me... I am not worthy enough to be spoken to by someone who devoted his life to die for someone you love... I would not know the pleasure on doing so...”

The words struck him like a smack upside the head. The hand that delivered the blow came from confusion, not guilt. He looked left and right to make sure he was the intended target. What is he talking about? He had to be, she said his name. But his mind drew a blank. The young man was quivering and cold, so he hesitated to put forth the effort to take a stab at whatever the kind beauty was whimpering about.

She had to have known what she was talking about. She sounded so certain with those passionate tears. Yet, Terry had not the slightest idea to what she was referencing to. His mind was already breaking down with a searing ache; now bewilderment was added to the plethora of afflictions he was battling.

He, himself, didn't really know exactly why he was there at her door. He had seen the catastrophic mess that was in that random dining hall and came to check if the maiden that had been carrying him was safe. Chivalry wasn't dead yet, not as long as he drew breath. Why was he here anyway? What was this place? A hotel or something? Why would that girl bring him here instead of a hospital?

That's when he patted his chest with a painful gasp. He looked to see that where he had been shot was completely smooth. Matter of fact, his skin over the wound was smoother than the rest. Maybe she had healed him then had no idea where he lived so she brought him to a hotel? That made sense.

But what still didnt make sense was the fair maiden's whimpers and cries that pounded his heart. Was she referring to Amy? How did she know about her? All of this was swirling around him like a storm. The only shelter he had now was the answers that this mysterious beauty that resembled one he'd lost carried.

"Whoa whoa whoa...," Terry began, talking softly, "By the looks of my chest that I need to THANK you, not forgive you!"

A weak smile struggled to his face through the burning nerves. Why was he so damn sore? It felt as if someone had set him on fire. He didn't care much for all the questions now; what was important was this woman's health.

"Now what's all this nonsense about loving someone enough to die and crap?" he chuckled lightly(to avoid setting his lungs on fire with a wicked ache like the rest of his body), hoping his composure would lighten hers.

Terry sighed, accepting her offer. He stumbled, shivering and aching, into her luxurious room. He tread very carefully. Graves didn't know why his body was burning, but he knew it was probably better not to push himself too hard. The woman's couch cuddled the injured Terry. The young man could not help but groan with the pain.

He looked up to the beauty. Between the wet, mangled locks of hair in his face, he studied her beautiful sapphires. They were enticing, begging him to look back and hold him there. They were full of a life that had lived, but cleverly hid the part that suffered. He wished his could be like that. Terry looked in the mirror some days and only saw an icy fog as opposed to the oceans that they used to be.

Her luscious locks of hair hung far past her shoulders. The lovely, fruitful red of her bangs dashed her shoulders; seeming to want to reach for her stomach. It was fair and righteous. From what he could tell, her looks betrayed her defensive personality.
Certainly, Hoshi had a very seductive figure. Her breasts and behind were much to large to fit her petite frame. It implied an attraction that was for lust.

But now that Terry really had a chance to stare at her, he couldn't help but be attracted to her for the right reasons. Terry saw the cute curls in her sides before her hips. The young man eyed the way her face seemed to have a natural blush. Terrance saw the innocence beneath the busty, loud woman.

Part of him wanted to reach out and hold her. Tell her that she can drop the act. Tell her she will be safe; he could promise that.

Suddenly, Terry shook his head like a wet dog. What the hell was he thinking? No no, those were bad thoughts. He sat back, trying to ease the pain in his skin and his confused heart.

"Well, It looks like you did a good job of healing me, I don't even see a mark!" he lightly laughed to avoid hurting himself.