𝗙ranki swore under her breath as the rumbling of the floor beneath her feet and above her head continued to happen in an almost chain reaction like nature. She and the rest of her team were still stuck on the lowest floor of the building, having run into more enemies than the four of them could take down in a fast amount of time.
Maverick had somehow gotten their communications back online a few minutes ago, but nothing he was saying now was computing her head. All she heard when he spoke to her was that there were numerous bombs lining the edges of the building and that they had less than thirty seconds to escape before they were buried under piles of stone.
"Fuck!" she said louder this time, reloading her pistol.
"They're surrounding us," Jase declared next to her.
As they were currently, the two of them were tucked behind a wall off to the side like they had been for the majority of the fight. Separated from Blaine and Eden, they had to make haste with what they had on them, so their four-person teams split into two-person teams.
From the reflection in the silver on her gun, she could see her brother and his girlfriend across the room toward the door that led to the main room in which they first entered through before the gas attacks brought them all down, but there was no hope that the two of them would make it that far without being taken out by the barrage of men attacking them.
Even their trump card, Eden, was still a seventeen-year-old girl—and she was quickly running out of stamina, despite the fact that she was turning her fumes into bursts of energy. She could tell that her movements were slower and her fights were getting sloppier with each new opponent.
"What are we supposed to do?" she rhetorically asked her partner.
"Fight back," he suggested.
Franki turned her head and glared at him without an ounce of humor. She knew that Jase's answer had no ill-intention behind it and that he wasn't messing around to get a kick out of her, but as soon as he noticed that unamused look in her eye, his frown transformed into a smile and that laugh hidden under a scoff that he liked of her shone brightly.
"In all seriousness—it's our only option now."
"I don't know how we're going to get across the room."
"Are the guards aware that the bombs will be going off shortly?"
"Either they are and they're part of a suicide-bomber task force," she shrugged, bemused, "Or they were left in the dark of the true plans and are unintentionally aiding the enemies who don't care or value the lives they have."
Jase let out a strangled noise but shut up otherwise and looped around the wall, firing more bullets from his newly stolen AK-47. As she continued to use the reflection of her gun to guide her without adding insult to injury, she let out a brief sigh and thought about all the things she wanted to know that her life was her life and she was back behind the steering wheel.
After letting Ezra's death control her for so long, it felt like a whirlwind of fresh air entered and filled her lungs and that a new part of her life was on the track to being completed. But now, as the three people on her team stood trapped in a room with bomb threats, she couldn't help but acknowledge that her dream would forever stay something of imagery in her mind.
As she pressed her warm fingers to the cold wall behind her and let the wet surface seep up what her body wanted to cling to, she inhaled one more time and understood what she needed to do to take charge of the situation.
"Jase—that thing I wanted to tell you?"
"What about it?"
"Well, I'm going to tell you now—"
Before she could finish her sentence, he was back behind the safety of the wall, pressing a firm palm to the softness of her lips, silencing her. His light brown eyes beamed under the false lighting and her heart skyrocketed as she took a look at the one person who made her feel whole—the one person who loved her before she could even think about loving herself.
His breathing tickled her nose as he slowly dropped his hand and stepped closer, pressing her back to the wall and the front of his chest to the front of hers. Dopy strands of his hair skimmed the surface of her forehead as his sunshine-filled smile caressed his dotting features.
"We're not out of this, Francesca," he tucked her hair back, "Don't spoil the ending just yet."
"We might not have a happy ending, Jase."
"Sure, but not because of you," he announced, "The knight saves the princess—isn't that how all of the stories go?"
"I'm not some pathetic princess waiting for you in a tower."
"—and I'm not some insecure knight who can't stand the idea of a woman saving me."
"Then maybe we have to Romeo and Juliet this shit," she grinned.
Throughout the midst of gunfire behind them, penetrating the protective layer of wall behind her back, and the ceiling to make them come out, she focused her mind on the man before her and pretended like they were anywhere else—preferably, as he stated—back in Spain sipping on Mimosas. Sharing a bed and clubbing like they were too young to do so and too old to enjoy it.
Never in her life did she find such solace in structure in another human being until she landed her eyes upon Jase Ramiréz nine months ago when their team was created. Even back then, an undying urge to belong to him rooted in her chest and blossomed into a flower she wasn't ready to pick. Even back then, when she treated him like shit and acted as if his existence was a bane on her own, he never once used fighting words to make her submit to him.
He let her be Francesca, just as she let him be Jase.
Now, standing face to face with the love of her life and death alike, she couldn't be happier. Somewhere in the depths of her heart, she understood that he was never a plant that was meant to be picked but rather one that was shaped out of plastic—one that had love until it died.
"Maybe we should," he concluded for her.
Franki, enamored by him and aware of her surroundings, lifted up to her tippy-toes to at least kiss him one more time before the inevitable escape plan of theirs ended in their permanent departure from one another, felt remorse as the loud sound of a floor caving to the ground stole it away.
Many times in her past she had the opportunity to flee into his arms, to give into her love to him, and now that the moment was presenting itself—now that she had the courage and ability to accept that someone loved her the way she loved him—time was not in their favor.
Franki let out a loud yelp as chunks of rock impaled the ceiling as if they were some stupid and fake display of a meteor shower. Pieces of concrete smashed against one another as the gunfire came to a sudden pause. Her hands wrapped around the sides of her cheeks, protecting her face from the flying debris that was cutting and tearing her skin apart.
"Franki! You have to get up! We have to go!!"
"I can't! I'm scared!"
More and more large structures continued to surround the area in which she was cowered in. Some were just balls of concrete, while others were filled to the brim with thick pieces of metal pipes, perfect for creating strong walls and terrible for running away from.
Each time a new one splattered next to her and created carvings in the floor, tossing out miniature pieces to create carvings in her skin, all she could picture was the sound of Ezra's body falling below the ice with a thrash and a crash. Every time the chunks tore her blood from her body, the more the freezing water penetrated her mind and encapsulated her in this spot.
"Run, Jase!" she cried out, fully panicking now, "You have to run!"
"I won't leave you behind!"
"Please!"
Her beg finished as a second wave of bombs fired, destroying the three floors above her. More screams of desperation found their way out of her throat, but they were no match for the terror that rang across the broken corridor when the feeling of a metal pipe, free from the concrete, ricocheted off the ground and stabbed her clean through her upper thigh.
Franki's eyes warmed with sad and pained tears as the building collapsed around her and she was forced into this utterly useless and debilitating position. Flashing of her baby brother crossed her eyes as blood covered the fingers that were blindly tending to her wound.
Seconds upon seconds spiraled out of control, pushing her out of touch with reality the longer she hovered above her own body, not finding any strength in her legs to be saved. With her head now facing upward, and her fingers scratching her cheeks, dragging down them in the same direction as her tears, she saw the rock that would send her shooting off into several different pieces come ambling toward her at a speed she couldn't hope to match.
And just as it reached a few meters just shy of her nose, the hand of an angel pulled her out.
"Francesca!—snap out of it!"
Her body slammed into Jase's; the collision pulled him to the ground with the rules of gravity and had her falling on top of him in response. Her frantic eyes and hands searched his body to make sure that he was okay and that he hadn't received any injuries on her behalf.
He hadn't.
"Are you crazy!?" he yelled at her, "Why did you just sit there!?"
"Are you?!—why did you come back for me!?"
"Because I fucking love you, idiot!" he argued.
Franki snapped her head back and bit her lower lip to keep it from shaking. His eyes were showing gratitude for her safety, but his bent eyebrows proved that he was upset he had to do that for her. It was just like something out of her past—a look of disappointment to completely shatter everything she thought she deserved.
She believed he picked up on this when he looped his arms under her legs and hoisted her up, carrying her after noticing the metal jarring out of her leg. His facial expression softened for her, but hardened as he dodged another incoming piece of foundation.
"I'm sorry for yelling, but I need to make sure you're safe."
"It's okay—I was thinking about Ezra."
"Who?" he questioned, picking up the pace and running.
"Just another part of me you'll soon get to know."
Clinging to him by wrapping her arms around his neck, she didn't miss the small smile that briefly crossed his cheeks. Whether or not they worked out together after the fighting was done with, she knew that in her heart, she would love this boy for as long as he would be allowed to.
Her thoughts solidified as the trust in herself and her teammates slid back into her being. Across the way, unbeknownst to Jase, Blaine and Eden were inches away from reaching the backdoor. From where she was, she could see that the ceiling on that half of the room had not caved in just yet, and that the hope for them to cross was something tangible.
"Jase, that way!" she pointed.
Nodding in response, he held onto her tightly, holding her to his chest as if she was a child's safety blanket, and protected her as much as he could from the trajectory of torn pieces of concrete. Despite her weight holding them back, he was light on his feet—as if carrying her across a battlefield of imminent death was as easy as falling asleep after taking melatonin.
But even as imaginable and sweet as her idea had become, she knew that nothing in this life was ever going to be that easy, and that she should have seen this coming from a mile away. As Jase's foot raced to the other side of the room, as it went to cross the threshold, a loud slam struck the wall above them and reverberated so loudly, he actually halted in his steps.
"Watch out!" she screamed.
Turning around with a quick pivot, Jase shielded her body with his as he started to run away from the piles and piles of falling rocks. Franki looked over his shoulder at the same time those same structures landed from the sky and slapped Blaine and Eden on the backs, slamming them to the ground before the rest of the building caved in and buried them below.
"Blaine!" she cried out, "Eden!"
More and more, the ceiling collapsed on them.
Again and again, the remaining building shook with loud explosions.
Fires began to appear to her from higher floors and pieces of once-wet chunks were now falling with flames attached to them. As each thought and recognition flooded her brain, the more she understood that her lapse in judgment and stupid panic attack was the reason the whole team would die.
She couldn't help the younger two members—barely had time to warn them that they were in danger before the danger hit them hard and took them down. Tears scattered from her eyes like their own type of wound as the verbatim of Jase's shoes slapping the floor hit each one of her nerves.
"There's a staircase!" he shouted, "We can hide under there!"
But she wasn't listening to him.
All she saw was the dried dust particles of her younger brother floating in the wind from the day she snuck into his ashes ceremony. All she pictured was the blood of her second younger brother whipped across layers of rocks as if his body had been put into a microwave.
And then, as she looked up and stared at the persevering face of the man she loved, she knew what she had to do. She knew that there was no life without Blaine for her, but that there could still be life for Jase. She couldn't say goodbye to the one person that had been by her side since the day he was born and survive it, but Jase was always the one on the team to heal and move on without a doubt.
"Ezra was my kid brother back when I lived in France with Blaine," she started; her tears were coming out like a waterfall, but she kept her voice steady, "He passed away in an accident; we were skating on ice and he fell in and drowned. I tried to save him, but I couldn't—my parents disowned me after that and Blaine soon after because he took my side."
"Why are you telling me this now?!" Jase asked, confused.
"When we first met nine months ago, I hated you," she pushed on, ignoring him, "I wanted to bury you six feet under because I couldn't stand those who thought humor and jokes belonged in situations where people had a high chance of dying. I hate you because you were who I used to be and I used that fuel to hide what I truly felt for you this entire time."
"What?!"
Franki somberly looked up.
The ceiling was completely caved in now, she could see the sun setting in the distance. A sad smile crossed her cheeks as she took in what was probably her last time seeing it. People love to tell others that dying is scary—that dying is something that should never be a desire because the unknown was more terrifying than staying and living a life that the government chose for you.
But they're wrong.
Dying is easy.
Especially when it's for the one you love.
She looked down, then back up, measuring the distance between them and the staircase and the piles of rocks that were heading down in their direction. With no level of protection to stop the speed of the rocks, even just a little bit, anymore—and with the slow, human pace that they were going, the deduction was one of the simplest ones she's ever made.
Flailing her arms and legs, Jase let out a surprised grunt as she popped out of his arms and landed on the ground swiftly. She let the pain of her leg wound guide her to finish this off as she grabbed him by the wrist and spun them; placing him off-balance, she let go and watched him tumble and roll the last five feet necessary to get under cover of the stairs.
It won't be long now.
"Francesca!" Jase screamed, sitting in a shaken spot now, "What are you doing?! Why are you just standing there!? Why did you stop me??—I had us!"
She shook her head softly.
"I love you, Jase," she declared.
Before endless piles of rocks hit her from every direction, striking her down.