It is the call that holds nothing but deadly promises. One that I do not wish to answer, but one I must.

It is the rush to the end of the tunnel, the darkness that just keeps going. No matter how fast I run, I cannot make any progress. I move forward two steps, he jumps forward four. The people I pass do not understand, and never will. I do not think I understand; blind to the symbolic meaning of that darkness, of the death waiting for me.

It is the look on their faces when I get there, the ones I did not want to see. If I were to close my eyes, I would feel them against my skin. They remind me that they are not leaving, and will stay until their messages have been delivered. They apologize, as though it were their fault. I find that I blame them. The hatred that is so alien to me burns inside me like no fire I know of. It is as though everything I knew is not as it was.

It is that… damned piece of glass, the border between our worlds. A barrier I cannot break through, because it would be… illogical to do so. The glass is so cold when I touch it. I can feel its weight and thickness, but also the hatred it holds for me. It keeps me from… from what I want- no, need.

It is the look he gives me when he finally notices that I am there. He is slouched against the wall, so weak. The radiation burns his skin and makes it difficult for his eyes to focus. I knew that even if he were totally blind, somehow he would know that I had come to see him, that I had come to try and save him, and all in vain.

It is logic. Logic has driven him to do this stupid act, this selfless deed that was so… like him. Hatred rips through me, caused by that trait. But I know deep inside, past all those emotions that are running through me like crazed animals, I know that I would have done the same thing. It was logical. The needs of the many out way the needs of the few, or… the one.

It is his attempts at smiling, reassuring me that he is fine, but we both know that he is not, and he will never be. He talks about bravery and sacrifice… that dying in the line of battle is honorable, but I do not wish to hear about his honor now. Honor is nothing but filth on the floor to me.

It is watching the life flicker from his eyes, then the uproar of fight that is still left in him. He gasps as he starts to lose himself. I can see the fear in his eyes as he whispers to me that he is scared. I feel the ach inside me; I want to banish that fear. I want to take it and rip it into a trillion pieces, then hold him until he feels safe once more.

It is when he asks how I do not feel that I realize how much I do. It is a part of me that has always been there, but I have ignored. I want to give him some words of encouragement. I need him to stay alive for just a little longer; a little longer and I can save him.

It is the surprise in his eyes that tells me that I have lost the battle with my emotions. I feel the dampness against my cheeks. Upon inspection, I find that they are tears; tears of sadness. I am feeling… agony, anger, fear, and… sadness. I confess to him that I am not as strong as he thinks I am. I am weak. I cannot fight my emotions or save the man that completes me. I am a failure.

It is when he touches the glass, the last desperate attempt at breaking free of his prison. He reaches out for me, needing the comfort a touch can give. I study the burns on his palm, then cover it with mine. I curse the glass between us, the clearness that forbids us our last goodbye.

It is when he opens his mouth, takes in one last breath to tell me something, but never gets the chance to. He slips away, taking those words I wanted desperately to taste, with him. He leaves me in a fog of mystery and uncertainty, but more than anything else, he leaves me cold.

This moment on the floor, by the glass that peers into the darkness that is death, I find that I am alone. There is no other in the universe now. There will not be any smiles or odd human gestures. There will not be any tasteless jests or glances that hold a silent meaning that no one else understands. Those have been taken from me.

From this moment on, I am dead inside. He has taken everything I am with him on his journey to his final destination. I only wish that I could be there to see it with him.