DISCLAIMER: Don't own them.

Author's Note: This may, or may not be part of a larger story that is so ungracefully squatting in my brain. So who knows? Unless I can summon the urge, I’ll just chuck it here, under Apocrypha, ne? Very short. But what the hell. Almost total dialogue, with little explanation, but I think it shouldn't be confusing. I hope.

Apocrypha: Goodbye

By Katryne

“Well, look who’s here…”

He turns towards the mocking voice.



“We thought you were dead.”

“Not yet.”

Silence. Deep, awkward, comfortable silence.

“How have you been?”

“Persecuted everyday.” The seagulls were swooping down towards their victims in the sea. “Nah. Not really. People forget easily.”

“I remember.”

Clenched fists. “We all do.”

“Is everyone good?”

“I guess. Still alive.”

“I think I’ll be 18 this year.”

A grunt.

“Can you believe it? 18. I feel ancient.”

As if Time Compression crammed the ages into you.

“Don’t you?”


“I could never have imagined you doing this…”

“Yes. Maybe that’s what they mean by irony.”


“Is the catch good?”

“Sometimes. But I can deal.”

There’s no such thing as pride, anymore. And dreams are for fools too stubborn to let go.

Why can we never talk about what truly matters?

I’ve missed you.

“Do you remember the time I held you captive?”

What do I say? “Not really.”



“I’m sorry. For everything.”

Bitter. “A little too late for that, don’t you think.”

“You’re right.” Faraway glance into the eastern sky.

No, wait! I didn’t mean it. It wasn’t you. I forgive you. I think I-

I think I love you. “You should come back to the Garden.”


I will not beg. “You should.”

“And do what? The sight of me with a weapon is enough to send the klaxon alarms of the military ringing. People fear me. Everyone is a little wary. I don’t blame them. I’m afraid too, sometimes, at nights, when all I see is smoke and that bitch lying through her teeth.”

I was never afraid of you. “You’re exaggerating.”

“There is nothing for me there.” I would’ve followed you to the ends of hell.

“Why do you the things you do?”

“Is that a philosophical question?”


“I don’t know. Do you?”

I thought I did. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I guess this is goodbye.”

Why can’t I ever say what I want to say? “Yeah.”

“... Well, see ya ‘round.”

A shrug.

Don’t turn around. Don’t look back.

“... I love you…”

Whispers in the wind carries loud secrets.

“... me too.”


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