One More

She sat up, her shoulder still sore. She could still see it all in her mind's eye; her father standing in the doorway and the needle hovering in the air. She didn't know that he had an ability. It all started to get a little fuzzy when the needle went flying at her. She remembered the piercing pain as the bullets from Agent Baldwin's gun tore through her. Isabelle knew she didn't have her abilities anymore and that scared her. It scared her more than what Collier was trying to do. Footsteps made her look up as Richard walked in.

"Hi Isabelle," he said softly, sitting down next to her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I came to see how you were," her father replied. He couldn't quite meet her gaze.

"Why? You're working with Collier," she spat angrily.

"That doesn't change the fact that you are my daughter, Isabelle," he sighed.

"The doctors say you'll make a full recovery," he commented after a few moments of awkward silence.

"Not entirely. I don't have my abilities anymore," she growled.

"I'm truly sorry about that, Isabelle. But I had no choice," he tried to explain and apologize at the same time.

"I begged Agent Baldwin not to shoot," he whispered, reaching over and taking her free hand in his.

"Just leave…please," she murmured almost inaudibly. She couldn't look at her father as she said it. A part of her was glad that he was here with her. But there was a larger part reminding her that he was on the other side. Richard bit his lip as he gave her hand a squeeze as he stood up. Just as he was about to cross the threshold, she turned her head.

"Daddy," she called softly.

"I'm sorry too," she murmured, fighting back tears.

Richard disappeared, leaving Isabelle alone. She sighed as she lay there by herself. She realized in that moment that she had no one left. She had caused her own mother's death. She had pushed her father away and she had hurt her fiancé. She had really loved Shawn. A thought occurred to her and she slowly climbed out of bed. She knew she wasn't supposed to leave her room but she wasn't one for following rules. She walked out of her room and turned the sharp corner. Isabelle peered into the window in the door and saw him, lying there, not moving at all. As quickly and quietly as she could, she pushed the door open, slipping inside. She pulled a chair up to the side of his bed. He was so still it almost frightened her. At least he was alive. Deep down she was pretty sure she couldn't forgive herself if she had killed him. Isabelle just sat there, gazing at his face.

"I know you probably can't hear me. But I did it because I had to. What Collier took was mine and I want it back. You understand, don't you?" she whispered softly.

"I am sorry it had to end up like this, baby," she sighed, taking his hand in her free one.

"But I guess what goes around comes around. I don't have my abilities anymore," she said, laughing a little in spite of herself. It wasn't funny but she couldn't help but laugh. Maybe it kept the tears from falling.

She grew quiet as the machines beeped in the background, keeping Shawn alive. She couldn't help but feel guilty for doing this to him. She couldn't be all evil. Shawn had told she had a choice when all of this started. Sure she'd chosen this but that didn't mean she couldn't go back, right? She heard voices approaching and her body tensed.

"Yeah…we're not sure if he's going to wake up. Poor kid," a nurse said.

"It's got to be hard. Didn't he have a cousin in a coma for years?" another voice asked.

"Yeah…Shawn saved brought him out of it. Some nasty luck," the first nurse answered as their voices and footsteps retreated. Isabelle sunk back in the chair. Shawn might not wake up. That's never what she'd wanted. She was just so damn desperate to get that information that she'd used as much force as she had to. And now because of her, Shawn was basically dead. Isabelle felt her chest start to constrict as the tears she'd been fighting finally started to fall. How could she have done this to the person she loved?

"What have I done?" she gasped, standing and staggering to the doorway. She couldn't live knowing she'd cost Shawn his life. She'd only meant to teach him a lesson. She wandered down the empty hallway. For a hospital there weren't a lot of people around. She ended up near the head nurse's station. She knew she'd get caught if she stayed there too long so she kept moving.

"I have no idea where I'm going," she groaned just as she spotted an orderly walk out of a small room to her left carrying a tray of surgical instruments. She tried to press herself against the wall to keep out of sight. That gave her an idea. She crept into the room and grabbed a packet of surgical instruments. She tucked it into the sling so no one would see it. After a good fifteen minutes of searching she'd found her room again. She slowly sat down and pulled out the packet. She tore it open with her teeth, tossing the rest of the instruments aside. She held the surgical knife in her good hand, staring at the blade.

"This has to work," she breathed.

Her hand quivered as she lowered it to her chest. No…that wouldn't work she reminded herself. Her hand slid lower until it was perpendicular with her stomach. It was going to hurt. She knew what pain was now. She let the blade pierce her skin and tried not to cry out in pain. She couldn't let the nurses find her and stop her. It hurt like hell as she pulled the blade out and let it enter her skin and muscle a second time.

"Ahh," she cried softly as she tried to stand. She wasn't sure where she was going but she knew she wasn't going to let it in end in here, alone.

She stumbled once more out of her room, the knife hanging in her hand, leaving a small trail of blood from her bed and into the hallway. She dragged herself along the wall and into Shawn's room. For some reason it felt right to be there with him. She collapsed on the floor.

"Ow," she rasped, feeling the blood starting to gurgle its way up her airway. This wasn't enough. She had caused Shawn more pain than what she was feeling now. She had to show him that she felt the same pain as her life slipped through her fingers. She looked at her slender wrist and she drew the blade across it. It stung but not as much as the punctures to her abdomen had.

"I'm so sorry Shawn," she gurgled, reaching up and grabbing one of his hands, dragging it over the bed sheets and down to her level. It didn't matter that he wasn't awake and couldn't feel her wrapping her hand as tightly as she could in his. As the room grew dim, she could swear she felt his hand squeeze hers a little bit.

"I love you," she breathed as her body slumped against the cold linoleum floor.

One more for the night

One more for the pain

One more long goodbye

One more takes the knife