A Time To Hold On, A Time To Let Go

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"But all the miles that separate
Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face
I'm here without you, baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you, baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you, baby."

- Here Without You, 3 DOORS DOWN

"Nate." Kyle choked on a sob. "Please don't leave it like this...please."

Nate hesitated, gripping the door handle. "I didn't leave it this way, Kyle." He forced his words up past the lump swelling his throat. "You did. You got what you came for." Nate jerked open the door. "I don't have anything left to give." Emotion twisted his voice. "You took it all."

The scene played over and over in Nate's mind as he sat in the truck outside his house, staring at the front door. The door I slammed in his face. He gripped the steering wheel so tight it caused his wounds to throb. His face was wet but he made no move to wipe away the tears.

Why the fuck did you come back here?

He was supposed to be able to rest here? In this house? The last place he'd spoken to Kyle? Behind the door where Kyle had stood and begged him to listen, to not walk away like that? Where he had practically assaulted the guy before abandoning him?

Yeah, rest awaited him in there.

Nate leaned back against the seat and rested his head against the rear window. His eyes closed and images of Kyle instantly swarmed him; Kyle laying on the bunk at the cabin, that heart-stopping smirk on his lips as he challenged Nate to play the game with him...then using a fucking live spider to mess with him.

"I'm not scared of spiders, but it doesn't mean I want the fuckers crawling all over my face."

"Yeah, sure you're not scared." Kyle grinned. "You should've seen how fast you moved." He did a quick Karate move. "You were like Bruce Lee."

Nate choked on a sob as he flattened his hand on his brow, tears running down his face. "Dammit, Kyle." he cried. "You can't fucking do this to me? You can't just leave me like this. What am I supposed to do?" His hand slid up over his head and he gripped his hair in his fist, sobs tearing through him. "What am I fucking supposed to do?!"

* * *

He didn't know how long he sat out in the truck before he finally shoved open the driver door and approached the house. Some light shown behind the windows. He hadn't stopped to turn off lights, or even lock the door behind him, when he'd left in a rush to catch the flight to California. Shit, for all he knew, his house might be stripped clean. Not that he gave a fuck. Hell, his whole fucking house could be gone and – except needing it for cash – he wouldn't care less.

Nothing mattered anymore.

Except Kyle.

Nate stood on the porch and stared at the door. He reached out, gripped the handle but couldn't bring himself to open it. He could feel the torturous memories waiting for him on the other side, ready to assault, tear at him, rip him apart.

Just open the fucking door. You deserve what you get.

The door handle was a cube of ice in his hand as he slowly twisted and shoved inward. Chilled air hit him as surely as if Kyle's ghost were standing there to greet him, his words haunting him, thrusting him through like daggers.

"No, Nate! It can't end like this. Not like this!"

"I know I did everything wrong...I'm sorry. I fucked up, big time."

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