End game (3)

Chapter 48

Elias's pulse hammered in his ears, drowning out all else as he held Collins in his arms, his fingers pressing down on the blood-soaked wound in a desperate attempt to keep him alive. The world around them had become a blur of flashing lights, gunfire, and sirens, but none of it mattered. Collins mattered.

His best friend—the one person who had been by his side through everything—was dying, and Elias couldn't save him.

"Don't you dare," Elias growled, his voice hoarse, his hands shaking as he applied pressure. But despite his best efforts, Collins's breathing became shallow, his pulse weak and erratic.

Elias's throat tightened as his mind flashed through all the memories—the countless cases, the late-night talks, the countless times Collins had pulled him back from the brink of despair. Don't you dare die on me now.

Collins's body went limp, his eyes fluttering shut, and Elias felt a terrible coldness wash over him.

No.

"COLLINS!" Elias screamed, shaking him, but there was no response. His mind raced, and for the first time in years, he didn't know what to do. His best friend—his brother in arms—was gone. The weight of it crushed him. He had failed. And the guilt threatened to swallow him whole.

Elias's chest heaved, his breaths ragged as the tears welled up. He never cried. He had always prided himself on being the cold, calculating detective. But as he looked at Collins—lifeless in his arms—he couldn't hold it back anymore.

"God, no..." he whispered, his voice breaking. Tears slipped down his face, unchecked and raw, and for the first time in years, he allowed himself to grieve.

This is it. This is the price of this life, Elias.

The city seemed to go quiet around him. Time itself stretched out, heavy and suffocating. But in the midst of his sorrow, Elias felt something stir in Collins's chest—a soft flutter of life.

It was faint, barely there, but it was enough.

Elias's heart skipped a beat, and he pressed his ear to Collins's chest, listening for a heartbeat, praying for a sign.

And then—

"Couldn't… let you have all the fun, could I?"

Collins's voice was weak, raspy, but unmistakable. Elias jerked back in disbelief, his eyes wide with shock. Collins was alive. But not only that—he was still as sarcastic as ever.

Elias blinked, his breath catching in his throat. "You're alive? I thought—" His voice faltered as he ran a shaky hand through his hair, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions crashing over him.

Collins grinned weakly, his face pale but defiant. "What, you thought you could get rid of me that easily? I'm tougher than I look. And let's be real, if I die, who else is gonna make fun of your brooding face?"

Elias couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him, though it was filled with relief and the lingering edge of anxiety. He wiped the tears from his eyes and shook his head. "You're unbelievable."

Collins's grin faltered for a moment, but the glint of mischief in his eyes never wavered. "Yeah, well, that's why you keep me around. Now, can we please get out of here before I bleed out and ruin all your fun?"

Elias didn't hesitate. He pulled Collins up, his hands trembling but steady, and carefully supported him as they moved toward the exit. The gunfire had died down, but the threat wasn't over. And neither was Collins.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Elias," Collins muttered, his voice hoarse but filled with that snarky charm Elias had always loved and hated in equal measure. "You'll need me to get through this mess. And besides, you can't solve everything with just your pretty face and brooding looks."

Elias glanced at him, his lips curving into a brief but genuine smile. "Guess you're right, Monroe. You've got more use than just as comic relief."

As they stumbled toward safety, Elias couldn't stop himself from glancing over at Collins, who was still battered and bruised but very much alive. He had nearly lost him, and the weight of that near-loss still clung to him like a shroud, but in this moment, Elias was just… grateful. Grateful that his friend was still with him, still fighting by his side.

No more tears. No more time for that.

It wasn't over yet. Not by a long shot.

And as they made their way through the chaos, Elias knew that the war was far from won. But one thing was certain—Collins would be there with him, no matter how many times they both had to risk it all.