The Boy Movie Brahms Heelshire x reader FanFic

Becoming Brahms - Part 44

Artwork by Karina Gontier 

This Chapter is dedicated to  @ShipQueen888

"I've killed her..."

The words sound surreal, as though spoken by someone else; or you're acting in some third rate B movie with a crass ending.   Snow caresses your face like the touch of things from a hell so old they'll never be warm again.   You start to shiver.   Delayed shock and the cold?  The trembling travels from your teeth downwards.  You don't need to take a look out of that window; you can see Melinda's body with your mind - broken and not so beautiful anymore.   Whatever possessed you?   This is isn't you?   Is it?

A whisper of feet on carpet, then warm hands on your shoulders.  Brahms turns you round and gently pulls you to him.   He's toasty warm, tall and solid.  You lean against him and start to cry.   

"I've killed her..."

His lips are in your hair, and he's murmuring something.   You don't hear.  All you can hear is the echo of your own rage and the dull, sickening thump as flesh met stone.   Slowly, Brahms leans down and lifts you up, cradling your body close.   You lay your head on his shoulder as he carries you to bed.   For a long time, he holds you in his arms, a safe cocoon where you don't have to think or dread the morning light.   This night might last forever.  You wish it would.   More tears and then you sleep,   Two hours later you wake.   Brahms is breathing gently behind you.  He stirs as you move.  

"Y/N?"

"Brahms, we can't leave her out there."

"I'll move her."

"Where?"

"The cellar for now."

"I don't know why I pushed her.  How could I do that?  Why?"

He strokes a strand of hair from your face.   Even in the dark you see his eyes gleaming.   "Don't you know?"

"Of course I don't know!   I'm not a murderer..."

Dismay fills you.  Because you are a murderer.   You killed another human being.  Pushed her to her death with your temper.    Rummaging in your mind for some moral excuse doesn't work either.   As though reading your thoughts, Brahms says, "The answer you're looking for is there, Y/N.  Just not in the place you think it is."

You scowl at him, lost for words.   If you delve into that place he speaks of will you come out insane?   Have you lost your sanity already?  Were you ever truly sane?   For an age you both lie there, neither of you feeling anything, not even the cold.    Logic, like a vein of iron running through your doubt, makes itself felt with your next words.

"There's no hiding place, Brahms.   Not this time.   She didn't have a gun and she wasn't using drugs like Joel.  Oh, God...what have I done?"

Brahms looks into your eyes, and beyond into your soul.  "You did it to protect me."

You know he's right.  You know Melinda would have done as she'd threatened, and the truth about Brahms would have come out and you'd both have suffered; lost everything and each other.