Red Handed

Now

The detective who sits across from me looks perplexed, like he isn't quite sure what to make of everything I've told him. Every word has been the truth, though, and all I want to do now is sleep because I'm so fucking exhausted. But there is one thing, one thing that I have to know before I can allow myself the escape of sleep.

"Is he okay, Iggy, I mean, is he alive," I brace myself for the answer because I don't think I can handle bad news, not about this.

"I'm not sure," he says, I think his name is Jackson, last name at least. "I'll go try to find out, can I get you anything? Soda, sandwich, cigarettes?"

I shake my head because words are beyond me.

Once Jackson has left the room I look around, everything seems so surreal and I can see myself everywhere. There is nowhere to hide from me – the one way window spits my own face back at me. At this point I don't even recognize myself, that boy in the mirror is young, innocent, maybe too old for his age but that's life. Me? I'm a murderer. I took another man's life, stole a soul, watched the light go out in his eyes. I am a monster!

Breathe.

Breathe.

I look down to the table but there I am again, reflected in the stainless steel. I close my eyes and bury my face in my arm but just as I start to drift off the interrogation room door opens and closes.

"James Griffiths is still alive," Jackson says and despite myself, despite where I am and how I feel, a laugh jumps out of my throat – he's alive, that's what matters. "He's in serious condition, there was some brain trauma and internal bleeding but he's stable in the ICU. You saved him."

Everything rushes out of me – fear, anger, pain, confusion. Iggy is alive and I can't help but feel relief through every inch of my body. Earlier, when my hands finally loosened around that man's neck, when I finally remembered that there was a reason I was so feral, I saw Iggy laying in blood, so still – too still. Ice water had been injected into my veins, freezing my heart to the shattering point. To know that he is alive is warmth – is life.

"We're going to process you though the system," Jackson says, he sits on the corner of the table to my left and looks down on me with pity, in this moment I know that in my shoes he would've done the same thing, "Do you have any questions?"

"Only one," I say, "What's going to happen to Iggy now?"

The look on Jackson's face can be no better described than surprised, "His aunt. They've contacted his aunt, seems she wanted to take custody of James since her sister passed. He's going to be fine. You should be more worried about yourself."

I honestly don't care what happens to me. The guilt in my chest fills my lungs and discolors my blood and the only thing that can siphon it out is time and punishment. I couldn't stand to be around anyone I care about, not even my drug addicted uncle. I have committed the worst violation against nature and no matter how desperately I want to move on, my conscience won't let me.

xXx

The gavel drops and my life for the next five years has been decided.

I turn to look at Iggy in the gallery. He looks upset even though all the swelling in his face hasn't gone down. There's a wheelchair just outside the doors for him, he's still having some problems balancing and he's been having some issues with dizziness but he refused to be wheeled in because that's who he is. I'm just so glad to see him. I wish he could see me.

The bailiff nods to the police officers who're waiting to take me away and my heart pounds heavily in my chest. For the first time since I killed Iggy's dad I feel scared. Fuck that, I'm terrified. By the time I get out, I'll be almost twenty-four years old. Max, who's sitting beside Iggy, catches my eye and everything I see in her face is surely reflected in mine. Tears actually run down my face, I'm shaking like a leaf, I feel like I could pass out at any moment – this is me, this is my life changing.

Where will my friends be when I get out?

Will Iggy still love me after I've been in prison for five years?

Will I recognize myself?

All of these questions and thousands more are running through my brain but as the officers take me closer and closer to the side door they also take me closer and closer to the one thing in the world that matters to me most.

"Iggy," his name leaves my lips as I pass him, close enough to touch were it not for the cuffs and as they take me through the door I can see him stand, Max's hand on his arm.

The door closes, makes him disappear.

My sentence has begun.

A/N: I realize that it's short! But this is just the beginning of a rather long fic! I'm really, really excited for some of the stuff to come. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and review, it means so much to me!

The sequel to this fic will be posted on my other site along with many more Figgy fics! It's called Sandy Angels!

Till then!