Always (Sequel to 'Maybe', a Thomas Brodie-Sangster fanfiction)

Chapter 26

It's been a few days ever since I was rescued. Again. And as you can imagine, Thomas has been protective over me more than ever.

I quit my job at Walmart. It reminds me too much of Evan, who still lays unresponsive in the hospital. Every day that he is unconscious, my hopes that he will be okay crumbles and crumbles.

"Hey," Thomas says to me, interrupting my train of thought.

"Hey," I reply.

He takes a seat beside me on the couch. "I have good news," he says.

"I could use some right now."

"Well, I've saved up enough money so that we can buy our own house."

"Really?" I ask, my voice filled with enthusiasm. "Babe that's great."

"What's great?" I hear Rachel ask.

I turn around and face her. "Thomas has enough money so that we can buy our own house."

She smiles. "That's great. I'm happy for you two!"

"Or just happy you don't have to wash more dishes any longer?" I ask, a playful grin making its way on my face.

"That too," she replies.

I face Thomas and grin. "So, where do we start?"

"Let's start looking," he smiles, and pulls out his laptop.

We scroll through houses and houses, until we find the perfect one. Complete with furniture. And it's right in our budget zone. Rachel overlooks the laptop screen from above us, as she downs a bag of chips. "That's nice," she mumbles.

"Yeah," I agree, then look up at Thomas. "What do you think?"

"If it's what you want, then it's the same for me love," he smiles.

We eventually end up buying the house, and the real estate agent gives us info on where to sign papers and get the house key.

After all of that is taken care of, and we've settled down in the new house, I begin to feel sort of homesick. Which is weird, because we didn't stay at Rachel's that long. But still, a feeling of independence washes over me. This is the start of a new life. Forget Haley, forget everything.

Except I can't. My happily ever after is still a mile away. Feelings of guilt and regret continually make a visit. Even though I have everything I ever wanted- a loving husband, a new house, great family and friends- it still wouldn't work. Not now, anyway.

I had to find Ky. I had to thank him. He could've killed me. But he didn't. That means something.

I get up off the couch and grab my car keys. Thomas glances over at me. I answer him before he asks.

"Going to the prison to see Ky," I answer. If I hadn't told him exactly what I was doing, he would've been worried sick about me.

I start my car and pull out of the driveway. If Ky was being kept anywhere, it would be the local prison.

I park in the front of the facility and step inside. A cop at the front desk glances up. And I'm shocked to see who it is. After all of these years, he still looked the same. It was Logan, the popular jerk boy from high school that I briefly shared a friendship with.

"Logan?" I ask, my mouth hanging wide open.

He arches an eyebrow, no recognition in his eyes what so ever. "Yes? What can I help you with m'am?" he asks.

I clear my throat. Now was not the time for a reunion. If he doesn't recognize me, oh well.

"I came to see a prisoner," I reply. "His name is Ky."

"Last name?" he asks, following protocol I suppose. But what other guy in this prison has the name Ky?

I give him a 'really' look. He's definitely the Logan from school. If this was a different officer, I would answer him in a heart beat. But considering this is Logan.. I just can't take him seriously.

"Touché," he smirks, then looks him up on the computer.

"Cell 318, down the left hallway," he says, then squints his eyes. "You seem familiar. Have we met?"

"No," I reply, strangely enjoying the fact that he didn't know who I was. "Thanks," I say, then walk down the left hallway.

As I walk down the hallway, it fills with catcalls and whistles. I scrunch my face up in disgust. I read the numbers on the cell doors. 316... 317... 318!

I stop and look into the cell. A guy with scruffy black hair is sitting in the corner, his head down. He looks up and blue eyes meet mine. His cheeks look rough with black bristles. He presumably hasn't gotten the opportunity to shave, or maybe he just doesn't want to. He looks like he hasn't gotten sleep in ages, either. So this is what a week in jail does to a guy.

I shudder and feel like I'm facing a stranger. But his blue eyes tell me that it's Ky. "Brooke?" he asks, surprised himself. "Why did you come here?"

"To thank you," I say, hesitant. "For sparing my life and all."

"Oh," he says, and scratches the back of his neck.

"So... thank you," I say, unsure of what else to talk about.

He stares at the ground.

I begin to walk away, feeling like an idiot. He doesn't care about my apology. He probably wanted me to break him out or something. But at least I got it off my chest. He knows that I'm thankful, although he probably could've seen it in my eyes the minute he decided to shoot Haley and not me.

I quickly exit the facility and get back into my car. I start it and begin backing out, when Logan runs out the front door.

"I know who you are!" he yells. "You're Brooke!"

I give him a thumbs up and drive away. I just want to be home.

I stop in our driveway and luckily, I'm over the whole Ky thing. I head inside and am greeted by Thomas. "How'd it go?" he asks.

"Good," I lie. "I'm gonna go take a quick nap, okay?" I say, then get up and kiss him on the cheek.

I settle in bed, and am soon visited by a wistful dream. I let myself be immersed in a deep sleep...