I didn’t quite understand why the Police wouldn’t let me go with Vic. I didn’t know where they took him, but I wanted to see him. Jaime stood rigid by my side, holding my hand tightly. Tony lingered by himself in the distance, kicking stones or something, and Mike was sitting on the gravel in the distance smoking a cigarette.

The paramedics had taken me aside, letting me change into clean clothes and wrapping a blanket around my shoulders. They thought I was in shock or something, I didn’t really know. They told me not to stare, but I couldn’t help but watch them cover Jake’s body.

He lay there cold, stiff, and unmoving, the blood drying around him, his arms and legs sprawled out in unnatural positions, his body twisted and slumped…

They took a black tarp and covered him carefully, making him disappear into the dark cement and black night. He wouldn’t hurt me anymore. He wouldn’t bother us anymore. He didn’t exist anymore.

“Where is Vic?” I asked Jaime, breaking the seemingly indefinite silence.

He rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb. “They had to ask him questions,” he said.

“But he’ll be okay, right?” I asked, biting my lip. He didn’t answer for a while.

“Does it really matter?” he asked rhetorically. I shuddered at his words. What did he mean by them?

“Excuse me, miss, but can you come with us?” Two men in police uniforms approached Jaime and me. I squeezed his hand; I didn’t want to leave him.

“For?” I asked, probably too defensively…

They smiled. For some reason, their smiles sent warm relief through me, but a part of me also hinted that they were trained to smile with that effect. “We just want to ask you a few questions, don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,” the one on the left—the taller one—clarified.

“Um, okay,” I said, reluctantly releasing Jaime’s hand.

“What about Vic? Er, I mean, Victor Fuentes? He’s not in trouble, right?” I nervously asked.

“That’s what we are trying to figure out,” he said, shooting me another warm smile. I was beginning to grow uncomfortable.

The spot where Jake had been shot down was secured with Police tape, reading: do not cross. They barricaded the area, as well, almost as if there was a mass murderer on the loose…

They lead me to the side away from the mass of police officers and venue owners and other bands so we could talk privately.

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” I blurted out.

“Will you tell us what happened, from start to finish?” one of them asked. I felt like I was being interrogated and bombarded and ganged up on with the two of them standing there.

I think they could sense it. “You know what, I’m going to go get coffee and let you two talk alone,” the other said, heading back to the crowd of people.

Once he was gone, I began talking. “Okay, after the show and meet and greet we decided to leave and go back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep before driving to the city tomorrow. But I stuck around for a moment and let the guys go ahead while I looked at the venue, because I was amazed to play there and happy and in awe because I used to come here to watch concerts, not play them…” I realized I was beginning to ramble. “Sorry,” I said. And then I continued: “All of a sudden I felt someone grab me, and Ithoughtit was Vic, at first, but when I turned it was my ex-boyfriend, Jake, the one’s who dead now. He was abusive and hurt me a lot, and, maybe it was a year ago, I don’t know, I guess a year ago he attacked us in San Diego, shooting my band mate, Tony, and me,” I took a breath, beginning to get overwhelmed. “And then he got released from jail a little while later, and I didn’t think he would bother me again. But he obviously did. Because he stalked me here, and he grabbed me, and when I turned around he got all in my face and wouldn’t let me go,” I showed him the redness on my hips from where Jake had grasped me. “And then, well, see this?” I pointed to my scar, which was now bruised, thanks to Jake. “He did that, too, like two years ago, he stabbed me with a knife, but anyway, he started squeezing my head with one hand, and I felt a gun being jammed into my stomach from his other hand—although I didn’t notice it at first because my head hurt a lot more, but, nonetheless, he was threatening me with a gun,” I felt like mentioning that Jake had a gun on me was important to note. “And then all of a sudden he fell to the ground, and I had blood all over my lower body and there was Vic with a gun, shaking and scared, and when I told him to drop the gun, he dropped it. And then we just stood there for a while until his brother and my band mate, Mike, came sprinting over all like ‘what the hell just happened,’ and the gun actually belongs to Mike, and we decided to call the police because Vic was just defending me, and Jake was going to shoot me because he’s almost killed me twice, so Vic did the right thing and he shouldn’t go to jail,” I finished the story of what happened all in one breath. I could feel my anxiety building up for Vic, though, and my chest was beginning to hurt.

The police officer took a moment to let my rambled words sink in. The wait was excruciating; I just wanted him to say okay, and I wanted to see Vic.

“Thank you,” the officer said. “So, going back to the beginning—”

“The beginning? I just told you everything that happened exactly how it happened! Can I—”

“I just have a few clarification questions, that’s all,” he said calmly.

I waited.

“So, you said the victim, Jake, abused you on several occasions?”

“He’s not a victim,” I muttered. “But yes. A lot. He was terrible,” I said.

“So, Victor, you’re current boyfriend…?”

“Vic. My fiancée. What about him?” I corrected, subconsciously twisting the ring on my left hand.

“Did he have previous knowledge about the abuse?”

“Yes. But what does that have to do with—”

“Has he ever shown signs of violence?”

“Who? Vic? No! Why—”

“Did you know he owned a gun?”

“No, it wasn’t his, I told you. It was his brothers,” I growled, beginning to get frustrated. “These questions are irrelevant,” I frowned.

“No, we just want to get a feel for the situation,” he sighed.

“The feel for the situation? The feel for the situation? I told you already that he wasprotecting me. There is no situation!” I raised my voice.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” the officer reached out to touch my arm or something, but I recoiled away.

“I am perfectly calm,” I said. But, was I? The officer’s questions were beginning to upset me, and I could feel my heart accelerating. My breathing was becoming uneven and constrained.

“He was just protecting me,” I repeated. How selfish, I was, needing protection. Vic shouldn’t have to protect me. I should be able to protect myself.

“I believe you,” the officer said.

I sighed in relief.

“I believe he was protecting you. However, murder is murder,” he continued.

I gasped.

“This was not murder! This was defense!” I cried. “That is perfectly legal!”

“But was it? How do you know he wasn’t planning this?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Because we didn’t even know Jake was going to show up,” I said gravely. My insides were boiling at his accusations, and my lungs were tightening up. My vision began to blur.

“This is ridiculous, I need to see him,” I choked out.

“Miss, are you okay?”

I shook my head vigorously. “No, no, I need to see him,” I shook my head again, feeling the panic rising in my chest.

“I can’t take you to him right now, but I’m sure everything will be okay,” the officer’s tone went from accusing to caring, but my anxiousness did not subside.

My vision began to fog up more and more until I could barely see at all. The Police officer in front of me turned into two officers…

The officer, or officers, how many there were, all reached out simultaneously to touch my arm as a form of comfort. But it only overwhelmed me more.

“I need him,” I choked out, clutching my chest. I couldn’t breathe, I could barely gasp for air… everything was closing.

“He did nothing wrong… I need him, now,” I felt faint. I felt sick. I felt like I was going to die.

It was excruciating, it was unbearable, it was absolutely, terrifyingly, agonizing… how bad I needed him, how much I depended on him, how horrible it would be if he left me… what would I do… how would I function… I just needed him… he was the only one who could control my panic… the panic that I was suffering from now. Oh, God, I needed him right now, it hurt… my chest was completely unyielding… my lungs were not functioning…

I could barely hear the officer in front of me call for help… many hands were on me, trying to comfort me, but as I felt myself slip into unconsciousness from the panic, I knew that none of those hands belonged to Vic… but he was what I needed. He was the only one…
And then I succumbed into the darkness, the darkness of the cement, the darkness of the night, the darkness of my soul tainted by the deadly ink of my past.
~~

I woke up foggily. “Hi, bear,” Jaime hugged me gently. I buried my face into his shirt.

“What happened to me, Hime?” I asked quietly.

“You had a really bad panic attack,” he said, smoothing out my hair. I specifically needed Vic, but any of the other guys—Jaime, Tony, Mike—were a close second. “You passed out, and they had to give you anxiety medication, in case you were wondering why you feel a little loopy,” he added. He was right; I did feel loopy.

I carefully sat up, Jaime still holding me, and I studied my surroundings. But I lost focus after a few moments of looking around aimlessly. I found it to be easier just to ask where I was.

“Police station,” he said.

“Why?”

“They are almost done with Vic. They just need his statement, our statements, and then we can go.” I straightened out abruptly.

“So he’s okay? He’s free to go?”

“Yes, he’s free to go. But I wouldn’t say he is okay…”

Jaime squeezed me gently while I tried not to panic again. “I’m so selfish, Jaime, I’m so selfish that I panicked. I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve him because I am a desperate, damaged, deranged girl, who panics when he’s gone…” I mumbled into his shoulder. “It’s not fair to him…” I cried, my chest tightening up again.

“Hey, hey, it’s all right, bear,” Jaime said, rubbing my back carefully. “You are not selfish, and you are not deranged or desperate. Damaged, maybe, but that does not mean you are undeserving. Vic is lucky to have you, bear. He’s lucky to have you because you care so much for him,” he continued to comfort me. “You make him so happy, and he gets stressed when you aren’t with him, also,” he added.

“It shouldn’t be like that,” I cried. “It-it’s n-not h-healthy,” I moaned.

“Maybe, but it’s more intense. The most intense thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life—in a good way. So please don’t cry, please don’t panic, because every thing’s going to be okay, okay?” Jaime continued. “See?” he added, nudging me to look up.

“Vic,” I sighed breathlessly. I couldn’t find the energy to race over him, as much as I wanted to. Instead, he slowly walked over to us, his eyes tired and cold, and when he sat down I reached over towards him, wrapping my arms carefully around his neck.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked me, referring to my panic. I shook my head.

“But I am, now,” I said, nuzzling my head into his neck. “Are you?”

“Not really,” he said quietly… robotically.

“Jake was a despicable human being, Vic. And you saved me from him again,” I reassured.

“I’m only okay when I’m with you,” he said quietly. I hugged him tighter.

“I know, me too, me too,” I said lowly. I couldn’t decide if it was a bad thing or a good thing—the way we so desperately clang to each other, like our lives depended on each other.

Vic sighed, sadness in his eyes.

“Something needs to change,” he said almost silently. Something broke inside of me, like a tiny piece of my heart was being chiseled away. Especially because I knew he was right. We couldn’t go on like this. We needed help.

“I know,” I said, barely audible.

He murmured in my ear. “I love you so fucking much, it hurts,” he said. Our faces were touching, our lips at each other’s ear. I felt something warm hit my cheek: a tear, a tear from Vic.

Neither of us wanted to say it out loud, but we were both thinking the same thing.

Professional help. We needed it. Only a trained professional could help cure our separation anxiety with each other. Did that mean forcing ourselves to take a break from each other? Yes. Did that mean postponing the marriage? Maybe.

But did that mean we were going to be done, or that we were “breaking-up”? Did that mean we needed to train ourselves to love each other less?

No. Hell fucking no.

If anything, time apart may make our bond even stronger than it was before, but in a more healthy way. If anything, learning how to deal with separation may make us love each other even more, if that was even possible.

It would be a painfully long road, but it would make everything easier in the end, right?

Notes

hello

I genuinely had no clue how i was going to end this chapter, so i couldn't tell you how i decided upon THIS.
i don't even know if this is happy or sad or i don't know... my emotions right now are like... mixed up and i don't even know

but anyway, stay tuned for some more fan fic fun ;)

love you all <3