Don't own.

A little angst...just because.

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Unrealized or Unrequited?

Was his love for her unrequited, or just unrealized?

Well, he would never know now, because

she

was

dead.

His longtime partner-the one person he could trust to have his back-was gone. He felt the weight of her in his arms, bleeding out while he sat helpless. She had smiled at him before she did it, before she threw herself in front of the bullets, the bullets meant for him.

She knew. It was no accident. One life for that of another. A Turk's kindness.

The bleeding had slowed, not because she was healing, but because there was nothing left in her veins- it was all over the floor in slick puddles, on his shirt, in his hair.

There wasn't much left of the side of her face, but Tseng leaned down and kissed her forehead, getting blood on his cheek. He was the only living thing in the room, no, the entire building. His job was done, but he didn't want to go back to headquarters. No, he wanted to sit in a half-lit warehouse with the corpse of his best friend until he became a corpse himself, rotting away together in an eternal embrace.

He could make it come true.

There were three bullets left, the number of bullets buried in the girl in his arms, the number of times he had almost told her how he felt. The number of words it would take to tell her.

One. He breathed in the scent of her hair, which even in this decrepit building, still smelled like sunshine.

Two. He whispered the words to the room, to the world, to the still, still body of his beloved.

Three. He raised his gun, bringing it to his temple, knowing full well that whoever found their bodies would know that he died by his own hand. He hoped it was Reno, or Rude. They would understand.

He smiled, and tightened his finger on the trigger, like he had a thousand times before.

Was his love for her unrequited, or just unrealized?

He would find out.

Wow. That was happy. Now review, people!