Alt Reaction

This had never happened before. He had never frozen so thoroughly in place, cigarette hanging loose from his fingers and gaze fixed on empty space as his mind worked through molasses to process what he'd heard. And when he gets up, when he dashes around the desk and down the hall, the elevator has already closed and begun to sink with a weight he could feel in his chest.

He cursed, banging a fist against the doors in frustration. But he couldn't allow himself to freeze again, not here, not right now. There were stairs in the back, a simple compliance with prewar safety standards, and his only chance. That ugly table he hated so much was shoved aside as he dashed across the dining hall, slamming through the door and taking the stairs two at a time.

Anything. Let it be anything else.

Footsteps echoed through the stairwell, a metallic creak as his momentum would tug at the railing on his sharp turns back and forth.

Let it be Russell.

He stumbled, missing a step and barely catching himself at the end of the railing. Still, he pulled something.

Let it be anything but me. My fault.

The end approached and he leaped the last set of stairs, cursing loudly as his injury protested. Cursing again when he found the door chained from the inside; A preventative measure against potential intruders that now became a barrier of his own making. He was full of them.

Let her love anyone else.

He knew it was futile. Knew the elevator had reached the ground floor long before he could get the chains off the door. Knew he wouldn't run into her in the lobby of the Grille. He wouldn't even see her outside rounding the lake. But it was only when he'd manage to trot out to the fountain, gasping for breath and nothing but raiders in sight that he finally stopped. Doubled over with his hands on his knees, he couldn't even conjure up his logic; A plan of attack, where to look for her, how to intercept her before she was beyond reach, or even what to say should he ever see her again.

Anyone but me.