Landfill

"It was your job?"

Ryan hummed, "Yeah."

I sat quietly, thinking; "You're a police officer or something?"

He shook his head, "No. I was caught up in a case...major drug trafficking case and the DEA Agents and even the damn FBI found out I was just a small piece to a major drug ring."

"And, what, the cops just let you sell drugs?"

"I sold the drugs to undercover police officers, fake addicts. The people that came and robbed me when we lived together, they were a rival drug dealers, and the agents decided that they needed to keep a tight reign on it all. They knew that this had to end soon."

"Why was faking your death apart of it?"

"Shane's "bosses" would've been onto me; they were already onto me."

"How?"

"I wore a wire a lot and I didn't move the supply in other parts of the city. They had a feeling and that's when the agents came up with a plan, but you killing Shane wasn't a part of it."

I frowned deeply, "Was I suppose to be a part of it at all?"

"No," Ryan shook his head, "I didn't--we didn't know that he would make that whole thing up to get you and Brendon there--"

I cut him off, "Is Brendon really dead?"

Ryan froze for a moment, then he turned his head to face forward, "We didn't know it would happen the way it did, Nikki."

I blinked and faced forward like he had; "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I couldn't," He said shortly, "They could've been watching us, taping, recording us. I had to be so fucking careful. The record store was a whole illusion, a front; that's where the DEA Agents set up everything. I'd go there to get information and to give them all the recordings."

I wouldn't look at him, "Why wait 5 years?"

"They finally caught the bosses. They're being--"

I cut him off, and glared at him, "I don't care about that! Why couldn't you just give me a small, subtle hint, huh? Why--why couldn't you just call me once? Why not tell Ilene to give me a message? Why torture me like this?!"

"I couldn't take any chances!" He snapped at me. "Do you think I enjoyed watching you move on with Shane? Do you think I liked watching you in magazines and on TV talking about your great life and your amazing boyfriend?"

Tears were swelling up in my eyes, "You were watching me, why not just send me a letter or slip me a note?"

"I wasn't watching you in the ways you probably think, Nikki." He stared at me with those large, chocolate brown eyes. "I got to see you every other month, some times once a year. I got to see you one time in LA when you went to the Oscars...you looked back."

I blinked, "Yeah, I remember that."

"I...came a few times to my grave," he paused, "On my birthday or the day I "died" to see if you would be there. I would watch you from far away, watching your lips move...I was never able to hear you."

"I was talking to you--to whatever is in that grave!"

"I'm sorry, Nick--"

I stopped him, "You don't call me that, ever."

He furrowed his brow, "Okay, fine, sorry." His features smoothed over; "I never thought it'd take this long to come back...I never imagined you with anyone else."

I narrowed my eyes, "Did you just expect me to be hung up over your "death" forever?"

"No. I didn't mean it that way; I meant that, even if I hadn't of done this, I couldn't imagine you being with anyone else but me."

"Yeah, well, believe it." I muttered humorlessly.

We were set in a uncomfortable silence.

"Are you happy?" He asked after a moment.

"Yes...I just got to a good place with Shane..." I didn't know what else to say.

"I'm glad you're happy, Nikki."

I inhaled, "Thank you. What...do you do?"

"Nothing. I really wanted to come see you and let you know that I didn't do this on purpose. I had no choice, especially if I wanted you to live."

I shook my head slightly, "This is like a warped dream."

"I'm sorry," he muttered, "I wish that I could take this back."

I sighed deeply, "Goddammit, I just got over feeling guilty and now I feel like I'm dreaming."

"After all this, you won't have to see me again, alright? I don't want to be anymore of a burden...I'm sorry I did this to you."

"I kind of just wish I knew...knew that you were okay."

"I wasn't all that okay, he stabbed me pretty good, I was almost dead." He paused for a moment; "I thought you were dead, when you passed out, I made the medics and the cops take care of you first."

"Thank you for that, Ry." I smiled softly at him. "If it wasn't for you -even though I really hate what you did- I wouldn't be with Shane. He's one of the greatest people I've ever met, he's very sweet and he gets me...we fit perfectly."

"More than me and you?"

I nodded, "I'm afraid so. Shane just..." I trailed, "He's not like you, and that's why I really, really adore him. He doesn't like the same music, he hates to read and he hates romantic movies...he's this big teddy bear that loves horror movies and doing work in his pajamas."

We both laughed quietly.

"You love him?"

"Very, very much." I answered honestly. "So, uh, ya'know, thank you...I hope it isn't too forthcoming."

"No, no," he shook his head, "I'm happy for you, Nikki...I'm really happy you didn't mourn over me this long."

"I didn't want to disrespect you." I muttered, "I thought moving on so quickly would hurt me, and maybe I was right, because we aren't engaged, we're happy the way we are."

He smiled, "I'm glad."

My hand reached out and felt his arm, "I can't believe you're alive."

He chuckled, "I kinda wondered when you would say that."

My hand reached up to comb his hair back, "I'm really happy that you're here."

"Me, too."