magnetic ◊ criminal minds

lvii.

lvii. the stranger
( season six, episode twenty-one )

LYRA sat on the edge of a bridge in the silence of the night. The water was so far below it could not be heard from her vantage point. She was staring down at the river, face blank. Clouds partly blocked the moon, but Lyra did not need the light the sky could have provided. She would rather be in the dark anyway, but her powers did not allow that.

She found herself unable to feel. Her limbs felt heavy, a consequence of her mental state. She caught herself wondering most days now if life was worth living. She knew, on one hand, that she had people who cared on her. People who relied on her, who loved her. And yet, she could not save her friend. Emily Prentiss was dead, and she did not do anything about it.

Lyra was no stranger to self hatred. She blamed herself for many events in her life: her mother's death or the deaths of the other mutants from Trask's lab, to name a few. And now, yet again, she had failed someone. All this power she had, and it was not enough to save one of her closest friends. A nearly daily presence, gone. She had beaten even Mephisto, but could not save Emily? It was pathetic, and her fault. She should have been there.

Green eyes glazed over. What would happen, she wondered, if she jumped? Forced her powers away, let herself drown - or die from impact, whichever came first. Would it hurt, or would all her pain dissipate once and for all? Was that too selfish? She would hurt people with that, she knew, but yet, it was so tempting. Her body wanted to lean forward, to let go. It was like gravity was calling her name from an invisible void.

Should she write a note first, she wondered? What could she possibly say that would make her life seem like it had been worth it. She would write to her father, first, she decided. He would be the most hurt about it. He had sacrificed so much for her, dedicated so much of his life to her. Selfishly, she wanted to think she was his favourite child. She would have to blame only herself. Otherwise, Erik would certainly seek revenge.

She would write to Lorna next. The sister she was closest to. Wanda and Pietro would follow. She would apologize for not spending more time with them like she wished she had. She wanted to think life got in the way, but a part of her blamed herself.

Ororo would be written to next. Lyra would have much to apologize for. For putting her through this. For not confessing her feelings sooner. For not letting her help, like she knew she would want to. Lyra would even consider writing her a love poem. She almost laughed at the thought. She was no poet. She was never good with words. She supposed that was part of the reason giving up her voice was so easy.

Scott, Logan and Jean would be next. The people she considered her closest friends, outside her coworkers. She would have to apologize to them, too. She felt she did not pay them enough attention. Not for it to matter. It did not feel like they were close like they once were. She would have to assure them it was her fault, not theirs. They tried. She did not try hard enough.

And her team... they deserved more than an apology. She had caused them so much torment, kept so much from them. She would tell them to think of it as a blessing. No more secrets. She may even end the letter with a confession, of who her father was. Write all her secrets down for them to find, once and for all.

The letter would get too long, now. Could she write a piece for everyone who mattered to her? For Emma, for Kurt? The children? All her mutant friends? It would get pages long. No one wanted that big a suicide note. Perhaps no more was better. She did not know.

From her pocket, her phone vibrated. She blinked, refocusing on reality. A text, from Hotch. They had a case. Yet, she did not want to move, even with the sun rising above her. She refused to cry again, no matter how much she wanted to. Slowly, she got to her feet. With a heavy sigh, she got onto her motorcycle. It was time to get back to work.