The view from the top of the building was spectacular, especially at night. The green, sparkling silhouette of the Silver Legacy Casino, as well as the red ambience of the two Harrah's towers, highlighted a sea of twinkling lights, glitter, and flickering star-like facades. In the distance, the mountains loomed, though they were almost impossible to make out without using night vision. Nevertheless, they were there, standing watch, their menacing beauty a cautionary reminder that looks can be deceiving.
Aaron had been sitting there for quite some time, attempting to enjoy the silence. It had been decades since he had quieted the outside voices in his head for this long. Now, the silence seemed deafening, and he couldn't help but reflect on what he should have done differently, what he could have done to protect his teammates, to save his best friend's life.
For the first time in a long time, he resolved to let someone else worry about taking care of the masses. He knew Cale would patch up his colleagues, and Hannah was fully capable of directing everything else. He was extremely worried about Cadence, but he had no idea what to expect from her since they were clearly on Cale's turf. He was certain she would find him eventually, but if it took too much longer, he would pull himself away from his catharsis and seek her out.
When the door squeaked open behind him, he didn't need to turn to see that it was her. Her light footsteps were hardly detectible as she made her way across the narrow distance to his perch. "Holy hell," she said, leaning over the narrow ledge he was sitting on. "Now, that's what you call a drop."
He tipped his head to the side and shrugged in agreement. "Falling would hurt," he admitted. "But it wouldn't kill me. Not much can do that."
She didn't comment, just listened, leaning against the wall next to him, her arms crossed.
"You know, there are thousands of Guardians in the world who would love to be put out of their misery?" He glanced at her to see if she was disgusted by what appeared to be insensitivity. She looked concerned, but not revolted, so he continued, unleashing many of the thoughts that had been bouncing around in his head as he sat atop Reno. "It's not something most of us know about, or are willing to discuss, but the Leader before your grandpa tried something called 'mercy killings.' He let Guardians who had, had enough, most of them hundreds--even thousands--of years old, volunteer for euthanasia." She gasped, and he glanced at her again. "I know it sounds awful, but really, for many of them, it was their only way out. They just lined up, and any Hunter that was willing stood across from them and kept shooting until there was no more movement."
"Oh, my God," she exclaimed just above a whisper. "That sounds horrible."
He nodded in agreement. "It does, and that's why he eventually stopped. But so many Guardians kept volunteering, he did several."
"Why?" she asked, a tone of disgust now evident in her voice.
It took him a moment to answer. He was pondering the opposite of that question--why not? "After so many years, I guess, they just... wanted a way out. What other choice did they--do we--have, with no way to re-Transform and no way to die a natural death?"
Cadence seemed to be considering his words. "I've heard of colonies, or something, like retirement villages. Have they always had those?"
He smiled at her, visions of Boca Raton coming to mind. "That works for some people. Others stay active. I don't know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. I was just thinking... there are probably thousands of Guardians who would have gladly taken his place, you know? But Elliott, he was planning on living forever. And now.... I'm sorry, Cadence. I know I don't have to tell you."
She met his eyes for a second, before pulling hers away, staring at the street below them, and after a long moment of hesitation she said, "Hey, how about you get down off of that ledge before you pull an Evelyn McHale, huh?"
"I'm not going to jump," he assured her. "I'm probably not even going to fall," he added sarcastically.
"Probably not, but I really don't want to carry you around in a mason jar for the next six months while your body decides how to solve the Rubik's Cube formerly known as the Guardian Leader. Come on," she insisted, patting him on the arm, and literally grabbing his thigh to spin him around.
"Well, now I might fall," he muttered complying before she did something even more drastic. He turned around and placed his feet on the roof, though technically he was still sitting on the ledge. It seemed like enough for her. He couldn't help but notice how very close she was standing to him. She smelled like lavender body wash and even in a simple T-shirt and jeans she was gorgeous.
"I know you wouldn't have come up here if you wanted to be bothered, but I just wanted to run a few things by you and make sure you were okay," she said quietly.
He nodded, curious as to what exactly she had been up to. "How's Jamie?" he asked, knowing he was in the worst shape of anyone.
"He's doing all right," she assured him. "Cale's closing now, so he should be out of surgery in the next few minutes. Looks like he'll be able to heal himself now that the bullets are out."
"Good," he nodded, happy to hear it. He noticed her hand was just a fraction of an inch away from his on the ledge now, and he couldn't help but slip his over to cover hers. It had taken him quite some time in the shower to remove the visible bloodstains; he knew not all of the stains had been washed away. Somehow, placing his hand on top of hers, without an objection, seemed to make the blemish lessen.
