Danza awoke from the nightmares slowly, eyes slitting open as if the light was unwelcome. He instantly regretted that he was still breathing, but was too apathetic to concentrate on the thought for very long.
Few things these days were enough to make him care; his grades had dropped like the fist of an angry god, and his homework—not that he bothered to remember it—collected unnoticed off in the corner of his mind. His roommate, Aaron, didn’t bother to ask why he rarely went to class, and Danza was just fine with that arrangement. It wasn’t like it mattered anymore.
He sat up without a word, and with a practiced yet careless twist he swung out and away from his bed to land on his feet with a dull thud on the cold floor. He stood with exaggerated slowness, and walked to his open closet.
After picking out something at random, he flung it to the table and undressed. This was how he’d dressed for over a month now, not caring enough to maintain a good appearance. Seriously, who was going to notice anymore?
His phone lit up when he opened it; he’d received a text during his slumber. He opened the text absently, noting that it was from Ayr with a slight twinge of guilt.
How r u, it read. He deleted it, and noted that noon had come and passed about fifteen minutes ago—great, he’d missed class.
He pulled on the arbitrarily chosen jeans, shrugging into the shirt as if his body was on autopilot. Most forms of thought avoided him these days, but he didn’t mind. Nothing really touched him anymore.

Something about him, something intrinsic to his being, had changed. Once his eyes had been sharp and vibrant, their brilliant cyan depths betraying a sense of eternity; now they had become dull and listless, hollowed from the inside. The only emotions that bothered to cross his countenance of late were hate and numbness, and his face was lined with exhaustion and resignation. Yes, something had changed, and in the depths of his subconscious the fading memories of better days fought to persevere against oblivion.
“Dance-a? What kind of name is that?”
Joe grinned at the girl before him and shook his head. “Danza, honey. I think it’s European, of some persuasion.”
The girl laughed. “Still sounds funny… but I guess I understand why you’d use that instead of Joe.”
 He nodded. “It’s so overused… it’s like everyone and their brother knows a Joe. But Danza… I’ve yet to see anyone else with it. But that’s enough about me- what’s your name?”
“I’m May. May Rangel.” She offered her hand, and Danza shook it with yet another smile. The girl was too cute for his own good, he decided quickly as he contemplated her name.
“Rain-jel?”
“My parents combined their last names when they married,” she explained.
“Raynor and Angle.”
“Ah, I see. Hey, you want to take a walk?”
She blinked, and then nodded excitedly. “Sure! I still need to figure out where everything is- do you know your way around this place?”
“No, but it shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Fair enough. You ready to go?"
"Yup.”
Danza stood, picking up his finished lunch on its tray, and waited for her to join him. They disposed of their dishes, and then left the cafeteria side-by-side.
Summer Orientation had started to look promising already, he thought with a smile.
Danza slung his beaten and worn messenger bag over his shoulder, briefly remembering the role it had once played. The bag had caught Ayr’s attention so long ago, leading to a conversation that started it all. It had served dutifully for a long time, one of the few things he still relied on always being there.
Perhaps this may shed light on his character, but for now he merely opened it and withdrew his mp3 player. He put in his headphones and opened the door, tucking away the device so that it wouldn’t get lost. It too was one of his only treasured possessions, and the battered set’s ability to drown out the rest of the world was more valuable than any of its other qualities.
He set it to shuffle from its hidden catch in his sleeve, and closed the door behind him. Several button presses and another doorway later, he’d left his dorm and skipped through his library in search of something to suppress his thoughts. This tactic failed, however, as most songs reminded him-
-of Ayr, of Diane, of his past, of his parents, of the case of the pain of-
- reminded him of things he’d rather not remember, he thought viciously as he attempted to force those memories out of his mind.
He pulled his bike free of its rack, and swung his leg over the frame. The ‘cycle had served as his primary mode of transportation for years, and had the battle scars to prove it; he treated it with the kind of respect that old sailors have for ships they’ve served on for decades. It was beaten, scratched, and weathered, but so was he.
As he started to move down the sidewalk, the unwelcome memories pushed to the surface again.
The night had long fallen, but naught slumbered in those shadowy depths.
In a normal situation, Danza’s poetic side would’ve pounced on a line like that; however, at the moment he was fully preoccupied with moving as fast as he could and to hell with what poor souls got in his way. Ayr was in trouble.
He blazed across the Law Quad like an avenging angel through hell, his jacket flaring in protest of the speed. A group of drunken sots had miraculously avoided being run down only a second ago, and even as he amped up the speed to his limits he heard a sickening crack that sounded an awful lot like a bone being broken.
More sickening was that, in this state, he did not and would never care.
He barreled out along the path, flying over the curb and landing in the middle of the street. Without an instant’s hesitation, he ripped upwards on the handlebars, launching just high enough into the air that he cleared the next curb. He slammed the brakes in the air, twisting violently to the side, and landed sideways at an acute angle with the ground. He pedaled as hard as he could and punched the sidewalk viciously; the unlikely combination succeeded in stabilizing his motion long enough to bring the bike careening around the next corner and back into an upright position.
He ripped forward again, clearing the alley and whipping around the final two corners in an adrenaline-fueled rush.
As he rocketed over yet another curb, he saw her walking down the sidewalk before him, about ten meters to the left. He realized at the same instant that there was no way to stop his bike with him still on it.
He jumped up and off, landing gracefully on his feet and then spoiling the ten-point-landing by taking a knee for a second while his lungs screamed for oxygen. The bike rushed onwards, connecting with the curb and flipping over it wildly. He stood, still gasping for air, and looked up at Ayr where she stood with a shocked expression. He could practically smell the alcohol as he moved to stand before her.
“Oh… you’re here,” she said with difficulty. “I… I thought that was your bike.” Her gaze washed over him, mostly unfocused, and then with faint alarm she announced “You’re bleeding, did you know?”
Danza shoved the images from his head yet again, and rode onwards.
He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he felt that he needed to move.
The memories were more vicious than usual today, and he seemed slightly more awake than before.
Perhaps things might be getting better, he thought with a slight tremor of hope. Perhaps this is just resolution.
He’d always believed in romantic and wishful things like that, before he’d sunk into apathy. It was a comforting thought amongst the desolation that filled the rest of the void.
Spurred forward, he continued down the road. How long had it been since he’d ridden through town just for the sake of riding through town?
How long, indeed, since he’d done anything for the sake of doing it?

So he rode aimlessly with the purpose of just riding aimlessly, and as he coasted down a hill he almost seemed to smile. The day was slowly making its way from the bleak, forgettable autumn day that he’d first perceived it as and turning into a warm, breezy affair with just enough clouds to bring others outside for their own strolls.
He stopped eventually at a traffic light, and lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow.
He paused as it passed his eye level, and inspected the old slash.
He’d scarred his right hand that night.
Danza looked down at his hands and cursed, seeing that his right hand was badly scraped from his unorthodox stabilization method.
“It’s nothing,” he said as steadily as he could despite his roaring heartbeat. There, his breathing was returning to normal.
“You’re drunk, aren’t you?”
She shook her head violently, and almost fell over as a result.
“I think I may be a bit… tipsy,” she announced somewhat loudly. “Yes. Tipsy, that’s it.” She inhaled deeply, and then continued. “Your bike, is it going to be okay? You look cute.”
Danza looked to the bike, his mind racing with things he wanted- and couldn’t allow himself- to say. “Why are you here, May?”
She blinked unsteadily. “Well, aren’t we friends? I mished you,” she said, the alcohol slurring her words slightly.
“You broke up with me last week, saying that I embarrassed you and you thought it was best that we not see each other.” He struggled to say this as matter-of-factually as possible, though his heart screamed betrayal.
“Oh, did I say that? How… I don’t know why I would… gosh, you’re cute… I missed you.” She looked satisfied by this, as if she’d given a grand and well-received speech.
“May…”
“I’m not May to you, remember? You said I was Ayr, and that I would always be your Ayr-” she hiccupped, and continued louder, “your beautiful Ayr-angel, you promised-”
Danza shook his head. “You said that you wanted me to let you go, May.”
She shook her head violently enough that she lost her balance; purely by reflex, he leapt forward and caught her just before her head would’ve hit the ground.
“See,” she said, trying to hug him. “You still protect me. You still love me.”
Bitterly, Danza pushed that memory away. It still hurt to remember that night, and no amount of self-imposed numbness could relieve that.
“Ayr…” he whispered, surprising himself.
The girl had nailed it on the head that night, for he’d still been in love then. She’d gone out with friends, explicitly telling him to stay at his dorm; it seemed natural, then, to be out all night on his bike. She no longer controlled him, or so he lied to himself. No, he insisted, she had no control over him at all. Even as he raced across town for fear of her being hurt, he still pretended that it was his decision and not hers.
Since he’d finally let go, he’d been aimless. He’d devoted too much time, too much energy, too much of his everything to her. He’d not known what to do, and therefore had retreated into his shell while life rushed past. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, and now it seemed he didn’t have the motivation to break free.
Yet, even as he let go of her, he could not bring himself to part with the memories of what they’d been, of the way he’d felt with her.
“Are you nervous?” she asked with a coy smile.
“Who, me? Never,” he whispered.
“Then why’re you still wearing that shirt?”
Danza blushed suddenly. “You’re merciless, you know that?”
“Take it off, lover boy.”
Danza complied with a shy smile, and she laid her head on his chest.
“Much better,” she proclaimed.
“Ayr, what are we?”
She looked up at him, her pupils heavily dilated in the gloom.
“What do you mean?”
“This, here, now. What are we?”
She smiled. “We’re two little freshmen in Ann Arbor, specifically in my bed, specifically half-naked, who happen to be attracted like magnets.” She crept upwards, and looked down into his eyes.
“And?”
She leaned down and brushed her lips against his.
“And I can’t keep my hands off of you.”
They kissed, and while Ayr was satisfied, Danza was not.
She’d insisted on him caring about her above all else, but never once had she given her heart in return.
Danza pedaled on past the intersection, pulling his bike slowly through the curve and swooping downhill. The light was still in his favor, so he began crossing.
He absently checked his phone- it was now about two o’clock. He decided silently to make one more pass around the campus before heading north to his final class.
It was odd, now that he thought of it, that Ayr should so preoccupy his thoughts today. He rarely thought of her more than once a day, and often squelched the process harshly. That he should suddenly be so contemplative today was surely a sign of something.
As he drew past the Union, it was his mp3 player that triggered a memory.
Ayr’s face glowed as he finished singing.
“And please, don’t mind what I’m trying to say ‘cause I, I’m being honest…” he sang softly, and then opened his eyes to look at her.
“Oh my god,” she gushed, “I had no idea you sang so well!”
He blushed, causing her and her friends to giggle uncontrollably.
“Well, I told you… I’ve had a lot of practice, too.”
“Oh, really? What else can you sing us?”
That was one of Ayr’s friends, Beth. The girl, while at first somewhat reserved around him, had opened up and they’d become casual friends. While they only hung out in the context of Ayr, he considered her to be a trustworthy friend.
“Yeah, Danny, sing something else.”
And that would be Sharon, who had misheard his name when they were introduced. No one had seen fit to correct her, as it was mildly humorous to hear her consistently call him “Danny,” or “Dan,” even as others emphasized the second syllable in his name.
“Well…”
Ayr grinned mischievously at him, kissing his cheek. “Well, come on. Show off some more for us, Danny-boy.”
“Alright, I guess I can do one more…”
“‘Alright, I guess I can do one more.’ Look at me, guys, I’m Danza, I’m a badass,” Ayr teased. “I’m a badass who can sing,”
“You cut that out,” he said with a grin. “Alright, I’ve got something.”
Danza smiled absently at that one. Yes, those had been better days. Back when there was- well, no, there’d been no innocence, but there had been hope and joy. There’d been happiness, more happiness than he’d known in a very long time. He’d almost convinced himself, back then, that his sudden maturity was not only a good thing, but an advantage. He’d convinced himself that life was finally on the rise, and that good things were finally starting to happen.
He’d never be able to forget the court case, no. He’d never close that chapter of his life, and he had learned that it would stay with him forever.
But when he’d been with her, it hadn’t seemed so bad anymore.

Danza arced around the corner, finally ready to head north.
He felt… lighter, somehow. As if he’d come to a point of resolution in his mind.
When he thought of her now, the hurt was still there. He knew that it would always be there, and that it was unavoidable.
But when he thought of her, the pain was no longer the first thing he remembered. No, he thought of the good times, the moments he’d treasure forever. The rare few occasions where it had been just the two of them, and that had been just fine.
He remembered their long walks at night, the lazy hours that had drifted past unnoticed while they simply lay together.

He remembered the happiness, not the sorrow.

His strides became more purposeful now, as life began to resonate back through his figure. The old energy he’d had began to course back through his veins, and indeed his pallor seemed to slip away into the wind. He began to look like the young man he’d been before apathy had chained him, though its ravages had left him weathered and faded.
He looked as if things were finally getting better, and perhaps they were.

But, as he turned downhill, he remembered the events that had led him to this junction. And while he was shaken, he faced them just as he had faced the rest of his memories.
“Mr. Danza, you know what this means, correct?”
The man with the hammer peered down at Danza curiously, as if attempting to look into his thoughts- and perhaps he was trying. He certainly had reason to do so.
“Yes, your Honor.”
“And that you are, effectively, surrendering.”
“Yes, your Honor.”
“Then of course you know the consequences?”
“I do, your Honor.”
The man was openly concerned.
“To the charges, what do you plead?” he asked softly.
“Your honor, my client has agreed to this offer by the prosecution,” said David, his lawyer. The judge motioned for it, and scanned through quickly.
“Then I must, regrettably, accept it.” The judge seemed disappointed.
“Mr. Danza, you are hereby charged with Assault and Battery, a ninety-day misdemeanor. In lieu of jail time, the court will accept the prosecution’s offer of community service and two years of probation.” The judge glared at his attorney disapprovingly, and continued. “However, the terms of said probation are hereby reduced to non-reporting- I expect you’ll need all the time you have for studying, and I can’t see why the prosecution would object,” he said with another glare, this time at the prosecuting attorney. The woman had stood furiously in protest of his alterations, but quailed under his gaze and sat back down.
“That’s better, Ms. Walker. Now, Mr. Danza, have you any last words before I make this permanent?”
Danza stood quietly, resignation heavy on his shoulders.
“Yes, your Honor.”
He looked up at the judge at last, and his eyes blazed with determination.
“I’d do it again to protect her, no matter the consequences. It was worth it.”

It had been a long and harrowing trial, and the consequences were heavy. He’d lost contact with everything he’d known and loved for two months, and had almost gone insane from the loneliness. Further, the terms of his probation had been stiff and severe even despite the judge’s intervention.
First, he was on high alert. Any report of law-breaking, anything at all, would be construed as a violation of his probation and result with his arrest and imprisonment.
Second, “law-breaking” translated to even the smallest civil infraction- after the trial, the judge had contacted him to elaborate further on the terms. Outside of the courtroom, the man had been extremely concerned for his welfare- even going so far as to vehemently protest his decision to stop fighting the charges.
“You could have won the trial,” he’d said repeatedly. “If you’d taken it before a jury, there’s no court in the nation that would’ve convicted. Why didn’t you fight?”
But Danza could never answer the question.
As Danza was heading to college, the prosecution had been particularly vengeful. They went out of their way to tie his education into his sentence- for the duration of his probation, he was legally required to attend college. Failure to do so would constitute a violation of his probation- and, incidentally, meant that he was effectively being fined several thousands of dollars every few months for a misdemeanor charge that resulted from self-defense.
The judge was even more displeased by this, and again the question of why he hadn’t fought was broached.
One of the final points that the judge had stressed was alcohol.
“I know that it’s probably a non-issue, but it needs to be said. Stay away from drinking- even being around it. The new laws state that the human body is a container concerning alcohol, and if you’re caught around someone who’s drunk it constitutes a violation just the same as drinking it yourself. Even if you don’t know them,” the man had stated several times, “it can and will ruin everything.”
Most of his conduct limitations never came up in average life, so he’d not worried about it—after all, he was a good kid who stayed out of trouble as much as possible.
It was therefore a horrible shock when Ayr decided that she liked to drink more than she liked him, because when he confronted her about how she was violating the terms of his probation she broke up with him.
Danza was almost to North Campus by this point, and the memory of that argument was slowly coming back. He’d tried so hard to forget that night with her, but to no avail. It overrode every positive and happy memory that he had of their admittedly short-lived relationship.
As he crossed the road, it seemed like he might never get past that one little—

The world slowed to a crawl, and he was vaguely aware of a car to his right that was suddenly moving rather than being stopped at the traffic light like it should have.
He yanked to the side brutally, and attempted to accelerate—
A car horn blared, and he almost cleared—
The impact spun the bike wildly, the rear wheel warping as the car plowed into it. Danza was almost thrown, and then realized that the large red object suddenly before him was an SUV.
It was not stopping fast enough.
Danza jumped with all of his might, throwing his arms to the side in an attempt to turn—
He slammed back-first into the wind shield, which shattered even as he rolled over the cab and off the back of the vehicle. He landed painfully, suddenly aware through the rush of adrenaline and pain that another car was coming, and threw himself violently to the side. It screeched to a halt just past where his head had been, and he dragged himself over the curb and out of the road.
The whole world had dimmed in his left eye, and he wasn’t sure he could hear over the shrill ringing in his ears. Beyond that, though, it was just simple pain, and so with some difficulty he rolled over and tried to inspect the damage with his good eye.
His arms were scraped and slashed from the windshield exploding, and at least one of his ribs was unquestionably broken. His back was lacerated severely enough that even through the advancing numbness overtaking his body it hurt to lie on it.
He passed out on the sidewalk, the world seemingly on fire all around him.
Ayr stood over the hospital bed, tightly holding Danza’s hand. The idiot had darted out into traffic and been hit by two cars; now, they weren’t sure he’d ever wake up. He’d lost a lot of blood before the ambulance had arrived, and had suffered heavy injuries- several broken ribs and severe spine trauma. He was breathing mostly under his own power, but they suspected this might not remain the case for long.
She bitterly choked back tears. The headstrong fool had pushed her away after she’d come to his dorm tipsy, and so she’d broken up with him after a heated argument. She wanted to try new things, she’d said. But he just wouldn’t listen.
During the argument, she’d told him to let her go so that she could make her own decisions, and as her temper heated she went on to complain that he embarrassed her when they were together, and that they were better off not seeing each other ever again. She regretted it the next morning, but he would barely give her the time of day every time she saw him afterwards.
Upset, she’d eventually lashed out in the only way she could think of- she got wasted and called him to beg for help.
He’d come for her, but… he changed after that night. He stopped even the most basic pretense of replies, and for all she knew he’d dropped off the face of the earth.
It wasn’t fair, it really wasn’t. He’d never fully explained just how deep the conditions of his probation ran- he’d taken care of her that night without objections, but once he’d gotten her back to her dorm and sobered up he’d told her that she’d just violated his probation severely enough to send him to prison. After that, he’d left- her room, her dorm, and her life.
Until today.
She bit back tears again. Why had things gone so wrong?
Somewhere, in the new oblivion consuming his mind, Danza dreamed and remembered.
“So how’s it going to be? Me, or the bottle?”
“Danza, please! I only had a few, why does this matter so much? I’m here safe with you now, aren’t I?” Ayr’s voice was pleading, but he couldn’t let it change things.
“Ayr, you know that I’m on probation. If you get caught under the influence around me, I’ll get taken in for violating it. Whether I was involved or not, the law doesn’t care!”
“There you go again! It’s always you and your problems!”
“Because you never open up and tell me about yours! You keep everything bottled up inside and you won’t let me help you, so what am I supposed to do?”
“I don’t want to talk about-”
“You never want to talk, Ayr. It’s always physical- when are you going to settle down?”
“I shouldn’t have to-”
“No, of course not. Silly me, thinking that you might be reasonable about reciprocating the ‘all-or-nothing’ rule that you made me promise to follow.”
“That has nothing to do with this! That was about your ex-girlfriend!”
“Ayr, you told me that your ex was calling you, too.”
“Quit turning it around on me!”
“This was about you from the start! Everything has been about you, Ayr. From day one, it’s been nothing but what you want, what you like. You never open up about anything, it’s always me talking!”
“Why is it so important to you?!”
“Because I fucking love you, Ayr! And I can’t figure out why, when I barely know anything about you!”
Ayr fell silent, and looked to the side. “I…”
She shook her head violently. “No! That’s not a good enough reason! Danza, you always act up around people, you’re never happy with things just being between you and me- there’s always got to be someone watching, someone for you to impress. And I can’t take it anymore! If this is what you call love, if this is the way you think it should work, well, I don’t want it!”
Shocked, Danza just stared at her.
“It’s always just another act! I know that you’re a good person on the inside, but when anyone else is around you try to act all arrogant and self-righteous! It’s like you’re not satisfied with anything you’ve got- not even me!”
“Ayr, it’s not like that-”
“Danza, shut up! I’m sick of this, I’m done!”
She grabbed her purse and whirled, opening the door.
“Just like that? You’re just going to run away?”
She didn’t answer as she slammed the door behind her.
“…run away..?”
Ayr jerked, looking around in confusion and then gasped when Danza’s hand twitched in hers. She stared down disbelievingly into his now opening eyes, their gorgeous blue-green depths sending the same thrill of attraction down her spine that she’d felt since the day they’d met.
“Ayr,” he said, his eyes locking with hers. Something like hate, sadness, and joy intermixed rushed across his face, and she winced, but he smiled weakly.
“Why am I not surprised to see you?”
“You always said we couldn’t stay away from each other,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. “How could I resist?”
“How long has it been?” As the first tears slid from her eyes, Danza felt every barrier he’d fought so hard to surround himself with simply fade away.
“Since we’ve seen each other? Forty-four days, and forty-three nights. Forty-four if you count tonight.”
“Ayr, I…”
She cut him off with a hug, gentle yet desperate. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I was just so upset, I didn’t know what to do to get your attention anymore…”
He patted her on the back tenderly, the motion a struggle. “It’s my fault too…” he protested softly. “I’m the one who shut you out.”
She shook her head, but loosened her hold.
“They said.. they said you might never wake up,” she sniffed. “It’s been three days since the accident… I’ve been here since that day, and so have your parents...”
Carefully, painfully, he moved his hand enough to brush at the tears on her cheek.
“Oh, hon… please tell me you’ve slept?”
She gestured to a guest bed to his other side, and finally he glanced around the room. It was an average sterile hell, with a demoralizingly large bank of machines monitoring his vital signs, and he couldn’t imagine how she’d stayed sane.
He set that aside for later, and instead asked “How bad does it look?”
“You’re lucky to be alive,” she said quietly. “As it is… you’re in for a long road. At least four of your ribs are broken, and they think your spine was damaged. You might never run or jump again,” she said as calmly as she could. “As for your bike, it’s demolished. The police brought it here, but the doctors had it moved to a storage room.”
With that said, she lost her composure again. “I’m just glad you’re awake…”
“Ayr, I…”
He struggled for the words, and continued.
“I owe you an apology.”
She looked at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”
He pressed lightly on her shoulder, and she leaned back.
“I never… I never explained everything.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. It wasn’t that important anyways.”
“No, Ayr. Please, just… just hear me out.”
She nodded, and fell silent.
Danza started talking, each word a battle.
Danza blitzed across the field, every part of his being focused on what was about to happen. Only his instincts controlled him now—conscious thought had been overwhelmed by a pure, unfiltered, intrinsic need to annihilate all that stood in his path.
He heard her scream, and a loud slap cut it off. He dropped into a charge that would’ve terrified his Tae Kwon Do teacher as his anathema came into view.
He jumped, twisting with a feral roar that betrayed all his attempts to merge with society, and attacked.
A vicious kick swept out from his airborne frame and connected with the back of his foe’s skull, launching it forward to land with a crash against a tree. He landed, whirling, and rocketed at it again.
This time the strike connected with its jaw, brutally shattering it even as he whirled even more wildly and drove his fist deep into its stomach.
He roared again, feral rage consuming his vision as he continued the assault for thirteen more seconds and then dropped to a knee.
He gasped for air, vision clearing, and punched the man one last time before struggling back to his feet and turned to Diane.
“Are you alright?” he asked raggedly.
“Y…yeah…”
She looked at him like she didn’t recognize him, like he was some kind of monster. Still, she nodded weakly.
Danza noticed with dying rage that her shirt had been ripped open, her panties torn and discarded a dozen feet away. He gathered her up in his arms protectively, and located her phone on the ground a few feet away.
Then he carried her away, out of the forest surrounding the park and to her car. He drove her home, and not once did he stop to think of the repercussions of what he’d just done.
“Danza…” Ayr’s voice was hesitant.
“I know,” he replied bitterly. “It was unfair. I didn’t deserve the sentence they gave me, and yes, I could’ve won the trial. I’ve heard it before.”
Ayr looked at him with tears in her eyes again.
“Why didn’t you fight? He raped the person you loved, why didn’t she sue back?”
“‘Why didn’t I fight?’” he repeated softly.
“I had no witnesses.”
Ayr stared blankly. “But- Diane-”
“Diane refused to admit that it happened. She lied and said that she’d never been near the park that day.” He stared off at the wall, his eyes going cold.
“You can’t be serious!”
“The bastard gave my description to the police in the hospital, and said that I attacked him out of the blue. They came and picked me up, and I told them that he’d been about to rape my girlfriend and that I’d lost control. They went to the scene, and sure enough they found her panties still there. But when they went to interview her, she lied and said nothing had happened. They didn’t bother to tell her why they were asking, though- they just asked if she’d been there that day. Without that testimony, it was my word against his- and his attorney claimed that I’d planted the evidence after the fact. When Diane found out what was happening, she…” he trailed off.
“She what?”
“She ran away,” he said simply, his voice hollow.
Ayr stared blankly, and then grew furious.
“She abandoned you, even after you saved her?!”
Danza shrugged helplessly. “She couldn’t accept what I’d done. He’s crippled for life- I severed his spine when I laid him out over the rocks. No matter what he had been about to do to her, she couldn’t get past what I’d done to stop it. She couldn’t accept that there wasn’t some other solution.”
“But…”
“It’s over and done with,” he said simply, his voice still hollow and distant. “There’s nothing that can be done.”
Ayr hugged him again. “And- and then I ran out, too- oh, Danza, I’m so sorry!”
He shook his head as forcefully as he could, and she leaned back again.
“No, Ayr. Don’t think like that. You couldn’t have known- and that should never stop you from making your own decisions.”
She wiped tears from her eyes again, and nodded slightly. “I guess you’re right,” she sniffed. “Thank you.”
Danza noted the dark circles under her eyes, the way that her face seemed thinner than before. “What’s happened to you?” he asked softly. “What’ve you been doing since that night?”
She shrugged weakly. “Nothing, really… I got completely trashed for the first two weekends, but… after that, I stopped going out. I haven’t heard from anyone other than Beth since then… Cameron’s stopped by every day, though.”
Danza shook his head. “What about you, hon?”
She smiled weakly. “I… well, I guess I just stopped doing anything other than homework. What about you?”
He looked away. “I… stopped caring, I guess. I haven’t really been to class since then, and my grades are terrible. The only thing I really did was try to forget.”
Seeing her pained expression, he continued quickly.
“But, the day of the accident, well, I...” He paused, unsure of himself.
“I couldn’t get you out of my head,” he finished lamely. “I just kept thinking about everything- the good and the bad- that we had, that we did. And I think I was starting to be okay,” he said, still aware that she looked hurt.
“Danza…”
“Are my parents here?” he asked suddenly.
“They should be- shit, I should’ve let them know you’re awake- I’ll be right back, alright?” Ayr darted out of the room, tears still on her cheeks.
Danza looked at his parents with slight regret for the animosity he felt towards them. He nodded to Ayr, still standing in the doorway, and she returned to his side. He smiled at her gratefully, and looked back to the adults.
“So. I expect a lecture.”
His father shook his head.
“You’re out of luck, there.”
The big man moved swiftly, and before Danza could react he was being hugged.
“Son… it’s been a hard week. We’ve done a lot of talking, and…”
Ayr finished for him, further surprising Danza.
“Danza, they want to work things out. Can’t you give them a chance?”
He pushed the man away, a strange expression on his face. “Why should I?”
“Didn’t you give me one?”
He blinked, and then softened.
His stepmother wrung her hands. “We thought… we realized that we’ve made mistakes, Joe.” Tears had appeared in her eyes as well. “We thought we might never get a chance to make things right with you.”
“No father wants to bury his son,” the man said. “Especially if it could’ve been avoided.”
Danza felt the animosity breaking apart. No matter how he hated them, no matter how much they’d unknowingly caused him to suffer, they were still people.
“Is Mom here?”
“She’s on her way.”
“She went to get something for me to eat,” Ayr explained sheepishly. “Your parents have been very kind to me.”
“At first, we were a bit suspicious, but… your father walked in one night and saw her crying on your shoulder,” his stepmother said. “We were all worried about you.”
Danza felt something wet on his face, and realized he was crying himself.
“I… I thought I was all alone,” he whispered brokenly.
Ayr hugged him, his fath- his dad reached out and gripped his shoulder, and his stepmom shook her head.
“We’ve always been here. We may have had our differences, but… deep down, we’ve been by your side.”
His mom burst into the room, dropping a bag on the counter; Ayr dived out of the way as the woman rushed to his side and slightly lifted him by the force of her embrace.
“You complete and utter idiot!” she roared, already crying. “You absolute moron!”
“Love you too, Mom- my ribs-” Danza choked as she released him.
“Don’t you ever ride without a helmet! And didn’t I tell you to always look both ways?!”
He smiled sheepishly, and she relented. “I’m glad that you’re going to be okay, kid. Everyone back home was talking about flying up to see you- and on one plane.”
“God forbid,” he replied with a laugh that hurt like hell due to his ribs.
Ayr touched his shoulder again, and he turned to her.
“See?” she said simply.
And he did.
After being reunited with everyone, the doctors shooed everyone away to talk to Danza.
“You’re in pretty bad condition, son,” the head doctor told him. “Really, you shouldn’t be alive after that. Count yourself lucky.”
“How long am I going to be in here?”
The man shrugged. “Honestly… I don’t know. That you’re awake says something, but at the same time…” He took a deep breath, and continued. “The monitors read quite clearly that you were dead for ten minutes before you woke up. Even more alarming, we had no idea. None of the warning information ever left the room- it’s like the entire room was cut off from the rest of the world. Strangest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He fixed Danza with a serious look. “I think it’s safe to say, though, that you might be on borrowed time. I’d make the most of it, if I were you.”
Shaken, he thanked the doctors. They left quickly, and he saw one genuflect.
Ayr came in a few moments later. Danza looked at her quizzically.
“What’s up?”
She blinked, surprised. “Oh- well, I’ve been here so long, it just seemed right- I’ll go, I’m sorry-”
“Please stay.”
She stopped her word-fumbling, turning to face him again.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
Ayr dragged the cot to the side of his bed, and swung the safety rail out of the way. She climbed up, and looked at him with the unspoken question clear in her eyes.
“Go ahead,” he said.
Carefully, she arranged herself and laid down next to him.
“I missed you,” he said softly.
“I know,” she replied. “I missed you too.”
“Ayr, the doctor said-”
“I heard him. Danza…”
“Yes?”
“I…I love you.”
He looked at her, shocked.
“And when you get better, we’re going to go back to court. And we’re going to win the case, and get you off probation. And then we’ll get them for damages! Then we’ll runaway for a while, just the two of us,” she said, her words growing stronger and faster. “And then we’ll come back, and finish college, and then we’ll settle down somewhere nice, with a big house, and and and a swing chair in front of it, and we’ll live every day to the fullest and then sit and swing together once the day’s over, and it’ll be great and we’ll be happy-” her voice broke, and she started crying on his shoulder.
“Hey, hey, calm down. It’s okay, Ayr, I promise.”
She kept crying.
“Danza, I’m just so scared of losing you again. This week has been hell- finally seeing you again, but you’re not even there. I didn’t know what I’d do if you died.”
“It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll never leave again, I swear. I’m right here, darlin’.”
“Promise me,” she said softly.
“I promise.”
Danza stood unsteadily, and took a step forward.
“There you go!” Ayr said encouragingly. “C’mon, keep going!”
He managed three more steps before stumbling, but she caught him.
“Oh, how things change,” she commented with a smile. He opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a kiss.

His parents watched them from across the room, smiling. The girl was like magic for him—whenever she was around, he was happy. She didn’t visit as often as she used to—schoolwork got in the way—but she still spent as much time as she possibly could around him.
Unfortunately, his improvement was questionable. He certainly did his best, but… the doctors were still unconvinced that he was getting better. He’d lost even more weight from his already thin frame, and while he was more animated than before it was obvious that he was suffering.
Still, he was happy. And that was what mattered, right?

“Mr. Danza, I’ll be frank. Given the test results, your son is going to succumb to his injuries by the end of the school year,” the head doctor had told his father. “We’re doing everything in our power, but nothing helps. Well, nothing beyond that girl.”
“Ayr,” his dad corrected. “Her name is Ayr.”

By early January, roughly eight weeks after he’d woken up, Danza was walking- albeit slowly- under his own power. He’d lost all vision in his left eye- it had been slowly weakening since the accident- and he’d lost the ‘freshman fifteen’ that he’d gained during college, but he was happy. Ayr spent the nights during the weekends and week when she could, and it seemed like they were finally connecting- she’d opened up to him at last, letting him see her for who she really was.
Most importantly, he’d gone back to court- but this time, he went to the media first. The press had latched onto the story of a man being victimized by the system for protecting a loved one against a violent criminal, and the sentence was rescinded triumphantly by the judge who’d reluctantly imposed it.
But Danza’s health continued to deteriorate, and the doctors maintained that he was on borrowed time.
By March, Danza had recovered most of his physical facilities. He could run, though he was limited to a fraction of his old abilities. He could climb, so long as he was careful. In fact, he had recovered enough that the doctors allowed him to leave the hospital for the evening to spend time with friends in the city, though it was highly irregular.
He’d never return.
“So, wait. You’re letting me leave?”
The head doctor nodded, his peculiar eyes never leaving Danza’s. Over the past few months, the doctor had displayed several odd traits that stuck out in his mind; also, the man occasionally made odd comments or remarked on things that really he had know business even knowing existed.
Finally, he’d seen the man once in the dark, and his eyes seemed, for a few fleeting seconds, to glow.
Danza decided to test something as he responded.
“We’ve decided that you need some fresh air- and speaking of which, Ayr has been pressuring us to let you spend a night out with her. She’s quite dedicated to you, you know- she’d walk to the gates of hell for you.”
Danza shot out his hand and grasped the doctor’s while lifting the patch over his left eye with his free hand.
Sure enough, he could see the man.
And in his left eye, he saw something that wasn’t.
“Excellent, my dear boy,” the doctor said brightly. “I had the feeling you might catch on.”
Given the situation, Danza reacted as few men could.
“Azrael,” he replied. “You do exist.”
The doctor nodded; in his left eye, Danza saw Azrael spread his many wings ever-so-slightly in affirmation.
“So I do, child. And under many thousands of other names as well.”
“Why are you here?”
The angel gazed coolly at him. “For you.”
Danza considered this briefly, noticing that all motion around them had stopped.
“I… I see. Has all this been an illusion?”
The angel shook its head.
“No, child. What you see is real; nevertheless, it has almost come to an end. Before I have said to you that you tread upon borrowed time; it is time freely but unknowingly given by your parents and, indeed, by Ayr. I suggest that you make the most of it tonight.”
Danza nodded somberly. “One more question?”
The angel shook its head. “I do not know what fate holds in that regard.”
Danza shrugged. “It was worth trying.”
“Danza? Who’re you talking to?”
Danza whirled to see Ayr, who looked completely radiant today.
Azrael, the Angel of Death, had gone.
“You look beautiful,” he said honestly, the past few moments slipping away.
She blushed. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
For the first time in a long while, Danza betrayed the pun in his name and really danced. They’d gone to the Union first, where he was greeted by all of their old friends. Everyone seemed to have forgotten the harsh words that had been said so long ago; everything seemed as perfect as it had been for those precious few first weeks. They’d gone dancing, they’d played Frisbee, they’d run all around town and just had the time of his life. Everyone else went back to their dorms around midnight, promising to visit him in the hospital.
And then it was only Ayr and himself, walking hand-in-hand through the Diag.
It was Ayr who noticed the swing.
“Hey, look!” she’d gasped, breaking free and running over to it.
Danza followed quickly, and joined her on the swinging bench.
“I’ve never seen this before. I wonder who put it here?” she wondered aloud.
“I’ve no idea,” Danza said half-truthfully even as a certain mythological figure came to mind. “But whoever they are, it was pretty cool of them.”
They rocked sedately for a while, cuddling gently.
Danza noticed a flare of light to his left, where his right eye couldn’t possibly see, and furthermore where his eye patch should’ve blocked.
It’s almost time, echoed a voice in his head.
So be it, he thought in response.
“Ayr, will you run away with me?”
She pulled away and looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
There was another flash.
“You told me that night that we’d run away someday. Why not now?”
“You’re not joking, are you?”
“Dead serious,” he replied, even as the echo groaned at the pun.
“Well, you’re not fully recovered yet-”
“I danced earlier, didn’t I? But come on, would you?”
She met his eyes—yes, both of them, for the eye patch had somehow vanished.
“I would,” she replied. Surprised, she blinked. “I really would.”
“Then let’s go,” he said. The flashes coalesced into a figure holding a sword, with a thousand wings.
“Let’s leave this town.”
“‘And run forever’?” she asked, well-aware of the song he was quoting.
“‘Let your waves crash down on me, and take me away,’” he said, though now he was not addressing Ayr. “But can she come, too?”
Ayr, perplexed, turned.
And then gasped.
Azrael stood before them, wings flaring triumphantly, with a mighty sword in hand. He was no longer the doctor; instead, he towered over them in his true form.
“Would that it be so, Child of God, if only she consented. But she still has years yet, and other loves to cherish. Would you ask her to sacrifice that?”
“No, he wouldn’t. But I would anyways.”
Ayr went to stand by Danza, holding him protectively. “Where he goes, I go. I won’t let you take him away again.”
Azrael nodded gravely.
“So shall it be then. Step forward.”
Hesitantly, she did.
Azrael vanished with a gunshot, and Ayr fell forward. She did not move.
Danza whirled, old instincts returning. Blood pooled quickly around Ayr, and he saw a bullet hole in her back. He yelled, turning, and faced her murderer.
It was Him. The man who’d raped Diane. The man he’d paralyzed.
“Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?” the man crowed. “Thought you’d gotten away, did you? Not a chance! You ruined my first ritual- your little girlfriend was going to be a wonderful sacrifice. Now I’ll just have to settle for this!”
Danza felt his old fury, his old hatred, flowing back into his veins. He could kill this man for real this time. And he would do it, and he’d avenge Ayr—
As her name raced through his mind, a chill flew down his spine. He felt again the calm she’d always brought since the accident, and it comforted him.
And it gave him power. True power, to not only avenge but vindicate.
He gave no battle cry, no warning. He simply moved.
The man, still laughing, became aware of the attack far too late.
A simple kick propelled him into the air; a light cross and a swift jab slammed him back into the ground. Danza landed gracefully, with a fluid motion that quickly evolved into a sweeping barrage that knocked the man back down. He lashed out violently, clipping Danza in the jaw, but simply could not keep up with the motions.
With one final kick, Danza knocked the man against a wall and held him there.
“I don’t know who you are,” he said softly. “And I don’t really care anymore. But you will never harm another creature on this earth.”
With that, he struck the man full in the chest with such speed that the man’s spine disconnected again. His heart ruptured under the blow, but he was already dead.
Danza left him in the new crater and ran back to Ayr.
“Ayr! Are you still-”
“Alive..?” she gasped, looking up to him. “I don’t know, but it stopped hurting...”
“Ayr… please, just hold on.”
“It is done,” Azrael said behind him. “She is waiting for you.”
Danza stood, and faced the angel.
“Then let’s go,” he said. “There’s no time to lose- we’re running away together.”
The angel, nodding, swept up his blade.
Danza opened his eyes, and Ayr stood before him again.
“You came,” she said simply.
“Of course,” he replied. “I could never stay away from you.”
She smiled and embraced him.
“So where are we going?”
He gestured around.
They stood in a cavernous hall, filled with radiant light and bursting with energy. Not a soul was in sight, but... the place felt like a home.
He spied a swinging bench nearby, and gestured towards it.
"I don't think I'm done swinging, yet," he announced. "Let's fix that, shall we?"
Ayr just smiled and took his hand as he led the way.
"And after that... who knows? We're running away- let's plan as we go."
"Sounds good to me," she replied as they sat down.

Ayr rested her head on his shoulder, and he put a protective arm around her.
"I love you," he said quietly. "Thank you for everything."
She laughed. "Oh, stop that. There's still so much left for us."
"That there is," he whispered softly into her hair, holding her closer. "That there is."