Chapter 1: How it begins and how it ends. The first time he says "I love you".

The concept is foreign, a word with no real meaning for the man he's become. Stray thoughts and hazy memories of a life before - before pain and hate and the never ending chase - no longer provide any comfort in days and nights empty of all but revenge.

He doesn't recognize it when it happens; how it slipped past his defenses, digging deep to take root.

A soft chuckle. A curve of red lips. A warm smile. A familiar touch on his arm.

They topple into narrow motel beds, dizzy with possibilities, and take one another apart. It's rough and fast and it's like any other warm body, on any other night.

Except that he lingers. He stays.

The first time he thinks the words, they are sitting on the steps, a game of chess in progress and he is listening to dreams and promises for the future. He knows it must be true, this feeling, because he wants to believe.

The first time he almost says the words, there are tears and he has found something precious again, a treasure long lost. A gift freely given with joy and an open heart. He knows it must be true, this feeling, because he almost believes.

The first time he says the words, it's the night before the end. He knows it must be true, this feeling, because he does believe.

Skin, pale in the moonlight. Eyes bright. Bodies moving, flushed. A hitch of breath.

"Charles...Charles...I love you."

He's found something he can't afford to lose.

The first time he can't say the words, they're on a warm, sunny beach.

Sun. Sand. Gunshots. Eyes bluer than the sky, the sea. A tear. Agony.

He's found something he can't afford to keep.