Stolen From Superman-The Sequel To Waiting for Superman

Chapter 43- A Bullet

"Ok, everyone take a gun and a vest." Ian's friend Peter says, passing out weapons like a piece of homework. Like it's just another day. Calm and relaxed. But, for him, this is just another day. Just another mission. Not for me. This could be my last day breathing. Or it could be the best day of my life. Either is fine, and both are equally exceptional. Eventful. Ian's other military friend leans on the back of the pickup, dog tags flashing in the early morning sunlight. I think his name is Brandon. The sun has just barely risen over the horizon. I strap the vest on without thinking. My heart is already picking up pace, and I can feel the adrenaline seeping through my veins. The stakes now are a whole lot higher than in a video game. Mitch and Jerome stands off to one side, whispering things to each other, their fingers wrapped together. They press their foreheads together and I have to look away. The memories of Ali are too strong for me to handle for longer than a few moments. We used to do that. That's all it is, anywhere I go. Ali did that. She said that to me once. We used to be like them. It's painful. More painful than anything else. The memories. Ryan can't stop bouncing his leg, sitting in the bed of the truck. Ian seems calmest of all of us, excluding his friends. I tap my finger on the cold metal of the gun I hold, my mind fastened on what is to come. I could be dead in an hour. If that's the case, so be it. I'm better off dead than living without her.

"Alright, listen up. Our officers think that there are three people carrying out this mission, not seven. So keep it on the down low, please." Peter says. Ryan smirks a bit, but everyone stays silent. "This should be fairly simple, if we catch them off guard. It's a two story house, with a basement. That's most likely where Ali is. Brandon and I are going through the top floor windows to clear that level. Ian, you will take Ryan through the back door to make sure the main floor is empty. Jordan, Mitch, and Jerome will take the front door down into the basement, and get Ali. Good?" he continues, his voice so calm and commanding that's it's difficult to disagree with anything he says. "You have full permission to wound or kill any of the terrorists in that house, especially Steven." He lowers his voice slightly. "Perhaps it might be better if he didn't make it out of there." He says, suggesting something that probably isn't allowed to be said directly. I'm grateful, at least, for the opportunity. I'm sure he'll be guarding Ali. So I'll have my chance. It's just a matter of how prepared he is. I nod, as do the others, and morning sun growing hot on our backs. "Great. Then we're off." Ian says. And that's that.

Everything from that point forward passes in a blur. The drive to the house, the final rally, the positioning. All of a sudden we're here, and we're ready, and everything that I've been waiting for is happening. All at once it's time, and I find less fear in my core than I would have thought humanly possible. I have nothing to lose now. She is all that matters. I share a glance with Mitch, who has finally let go of Jerome, albeit out of necessity to hold the gun. "Before we go in...I'm sorry." I say, apologizing yet again for my behavior in the past. I have to make sure that isn't on my conscious if I die in there. At first, he seems a little surprised. But, then his face sinks back into somber acceptance. "You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, Jordan." He then says, and honestly, it's the best apology he could have given me. He admitted his guilt. He said it wasn't my fault. And that takes far more pride than a simple sorry. A whole new level of respect grows in my chest, and, suddenly, it's no longer need that holds us together, but kinship. It's like a ton of weight has been lifted off of my back, and I smile slightly. No longer am I at war with myself and Mitch. We may not be friends just yet, but we're on the way there. And it's an opportunity that I never thought I'd be so pleased to have. To think that's its over, just like that, is almost unbelievable. "Together?" I say, looking at the door to the house, where Ryan and Ian have already entered the first floor. Mitch nods, and without really planning it, he and Jerome answer in unison. "Together." That one word gives me what I need to run forward into the house, hurdling down the basement stairs like nothing stands in my way.

When I reach the bottom, Jerome grabs my arm, stopping me from rushing blindly into what would probably be my death. He gestures to all of us, and I know what he means. My breath comes heavy in my chest, and I'm sure Steven knows we are here by now. It's silent, strangely silent, and I can hear the blood rushing through my ears. But I can't wait any longer, and I run forward, the pounding of my feet matching the pounding of my heart. Thoughts of her fill my head, and love burns in my chest. I whisper her name as I lock eyes with Steven. And then, the gun fires.

It's like time has slow down to hardly a crawl. I can see Steven, and the gun in his hand. I'm fully aware that that bullet is heading right towards my chest, and I'm helpless. I can't move in time. But that's alright. That's all ok. Because she's here. She's right here, just to my side, alive and breathing. I may be milliseconds away from death, but I'm calm. I know she's ok. I know that, even when I'm gone, Mitch and Jerome will get her out of here safely. She'll live, even if it's without me. I'm happy, with her name still rolling off my lips and her beautiful face in my sight. I'm with her, and she's with me, for these last moments. I can die now. I can stop living in the perpetual suspension of pain and life. This awful brightness and fakeness, in which the only reprise is her. I can let go. I can be free.

But death never comes. I'm aware of the body that leaps in front of mine only moments before the bullet would have hit me. I can feel my heart start to pound in a whole new type of fear. I'm not dead. No, not me. Mitch. Mitch, who I've always hated, and only so recently learned to accept. Mitch, who I always thought hated me as well. It's Mitch who takes that bullet for me.

A/N: AHHHHH HOW COULD I?!?!?!? HOW AM I THIS CRUEL!????? Dont; give up hope yet, my epic people. There is more to come, and you might not be a crushed as you think. Slap dat vote button and rant it out in the commetns section!

-Argo