"911, what's the emergency?"

A million words run through his head; a while ago, he was so sure of what to do and say, now he finds himself speechless. There were so many ways that this could've happened–

"Hello?" The operator prompts.

"I-" He feels his throat catch and lets out a forceful exhale, willing his shuddering breath to still. He tries again, tightly gripping the phone to anchor him down.

"I found two dead bodies." He looks down at the man below him, whose head is jutting out unnaturally. What was his name again? Sam? Samuel? His eyes are still open, and for a brief moment, his eyelids twitch. That could be the last of his nerves spasming before they die out, or he's only been partially paralyzed. 

That's unfortunate; he was aiming for an instant kill. He crouches down and places a finger under the man's nose. 

"Dead bodies? Where?" 

"Down on Severn Street. I just got here. I was out for a walk." There's no breeze coming in and out. Sammy will have to just die by suffocation then.

"On Severn Street?" He hears a keyboard clacking from her end. 

"Yes. It's quiet here, and the bodies were just lying there."

"Are you sure? Did you check if they're breathing?"

… In a way, he did. 

"They're dead. The one outside has a broken neck and another inside…" He gazes towards the vehicle, feeling his chest clench at the view. Elliot. "He's been shot."

"Inside?" 

"He's in a van... It's been parked off to the side. It's a black Toyota Sienna, plate number CRN 01B6." His eyes linger on the darkened windows; he can't see him from where he's standing. But the knowledge that he's there is enough to keep him in a trance, the shadows pulling in his attention and inviting him for a look.

Reality is hitting him; this would be the last time he would ever see him in person.

Would it have made a difference if he arrived sooner or had known beforehand? There will be nothing to return to when this is all over, and he's done his part. Would it be better if he was the one that died instead? No, that's selfish.

They never had solace, not with death around them, but at least they had each other. Had. 

I'm alone. Again. 

"--on the way. Stay on the line with me. Who is calling?"

"..."

"Hello?"

"..."

He hangs up. 

Feeling his fingertips buzz, he focuses on maintaining consistent breath. He takes a cloth from his pocket and wipes the phone down. Afterward, he bends down to the man lying on the pavement and gently slips the phone back into the dying man's jacket pocket with the cloth still in hand. 

"Thank you, and I'm sorry." He tells him and drags the dying man's eyelids close.

He stands back up and observes him. The street light overhead illuminates him harshly. His uniform, his colored hair, and the paling flush of his skin were all reduced to varying shades of ochre. He recalls this man to be diligent and thorough. A little boisterous but accountable and will alert everyone else if there's suspicious activity. If his silence could be bought, he would be alive right now.

Then again, he also might be too scared to take the pay.

"It will only be a few minutes now." He adds, just in case, although it might've fallen on deaf ears. It's not a great reassurance, only a confirmation of his inevitable passing.

But at least he didn't have to die alone. 

With a heavy heart, he starts walking away. As he nears the back of the car, he fishes out a mini flashlight from his pocket and shines it into the window, giving in to the urge to look at Elliot. Greedily he sears as much as he can into his memory. Skimming past his bloodstained chest and savoring every detail of his face. 

He hates how he looks so peaceful, lying in a fetal position with his eyes closed and mouth slightly open. It's as though he's only napping on the seats. It makes the naive part of him want to reach and check if he's still alive- to lay with him and wait until he opens his eyes. 

But he's been through this already; what's sitting in front of him is just rotting remains. There's no more Elliot.

"I did as you wanted," he whispers still." Goodbye."

He heads for the shadows, mindful of the surveillance.

It takes a few minutes before he hears anything close to sirens. Typically, this would be a cause for panic, but today it fills him with relief.  

–

"If I die before you, will you ensure my parents find me?"

"Don't talk like that."

"Just in case. If I could, I would do it for you."

"..."