#volchek

Mark shakes his head, like if he just resets hard enough this will all make sense again. “Hey—no, this isn’t—this isn’t real, okay? He’s gotten in your head, we can fix—”

“He didn’t, Meachum,” you cut in. Your hand finds Borys’s again. “I chose this. I lived with the man for more than a year. If you think I wouldn't catch feelings for him, or vice versa, that's your mistake. Not mine. I love him.” That lands harder than anything else.

Nathan exhales slowly. Decision made. “Last warning.”

You step closer to Borys. Shielding him. Choosing him again.

It happens fast. Too fast.

Mark reaches out to you. “Wait—”

Nathan fires. The sound cracks through the room like lightning. You don’t even register it at first.

Just the force of Borys’s body jerking behind you. A sharp inhale. Your name—half-formed, barely there. And then, his hand slips from yours.

“No—”You turn just in time to catch him as he drops. The world narrows instantly. Sound dulls. Everything except him disappears. “Borys—Borys, look at me, look at me—”

Borys’s breathing is already uneven. Too shallow. Too fast.

Your hands press against his chest, trying to stop something you can’t even see. “Stay with me,” you whisper, voice breaking. “Stay—please—Baby, please”

He looks at you. Really looks. And there’s no anger there. No betrayal. Only you. “…you stayed,” he murmurs. The words are soft. Almost surprised.

Your vision blurs. “Of course I did—of course I did—just don’t—don’t do this—”

A faint, broken smile touches his mouth. “Didn’t think… you would.”

“Stop,” you choke. “Stop talking like that—” Your hands are shaking now. You can’t stop them. “I’m right here,” you say desperately. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere—”

His hand lifts. Barely. You grab it instantly, pressing it to your face. “Don’t leave me,” you whisper.

And that— That’s what undoes something in him. His thumb brushes weakly against your cheek. “You already chose,” he says quietly.

“I chose you,” you sob.

A breath. Shallow. Fading. “…I know.”

Your chest caves in. “Then stay,” you beg. “Stay with me—”

But his eyes are already slipping. Losing focus. His grip loosens in your hand.

“Borys—” You shake him slightly. Panic rising. “Borys, no—no, no, no—stay—”

Nothing. No response. No breath. No—

“Hey—hey—”

Hands grab your shoulders. You fight them instantly. “No—no, let me go—he’s—he’s fine, he just—he just needs—”

“He’s gone.”

The words hit like a physical blow.

You freeze. Slowly— You look down. And for the first time— You see it clearly. The stillness. The absence. The way Borys isn’t looking at you anymore.

Something inside you breaks. Completely.

You don’t remember leaving. Not really. Just fragments — Mark’s voice in your ear, wrecked and desperate: “I’m sorry—God, I’m so sorry—”

Nathan, quieter now. Controlled, but not untouched: “We had no choice.”

Lucas hovering, unsure, like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch you.

And you—Silent. Unresponsive. Because the only thing playing over and over in your head is— You stayed. And it still wasn’t enough.

Back at headquarters hours later, everything feels wrong. Too bright. Too loud. Too clean.

Mark tries. God, he tries. Sits across from you, voice soft, careful. “You did what you had to do,” he says. “He was dangerous. This was always how it was going to end.”

You don’t answer. Because that’s not true. You saw another ending. You chose another ending. And it died anyway.

Nathan keeps his distance. But sometimes you catch him watching you; Not suspicious. Just… heavy. Like he knows exactly what it cost you.

Lucas leaves coffee by your side without saying anything.

You don’t drink it.

And at night, when everything is quiet—

You still feel it. The ghost of his hand in yours. The sound of his voice, soft and certain: You don’t get to take that back.