Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Author's note: I came up with this idea right after I saw ROTSS, but I never got round to posting. Well now I have, I don't know if it all sees a bit rushed. If it does, tell me (but in a nice way) and if you like it, TELL ME!

Sue was almost grateful for her sudden insomnia. She sat cross-legged on the bed with Reed snoring softly beside her and a half empty photo album in her lap. There were many things she never had time to do and organising photos was one of them. Sue glanced at the blinking LCD clock on the bedside table; it read 02:43. She had been up for at least an hour and a half and had already spent her time filling up another photo album.

Sue grabbed another photo from the slowly shrinking pile and stared at it for a few moments. It was a picture of Reed and Sue standing outside Basilica Di San Marco in Venice, right after saving it from the rising waters. They were dressed in their wedding outfits. Sue's kimono had a large tear and Reed's once white shirt was a murky pale grey, but Sue had already decided it was her favourite wedding picture. A small smile crossed her face; even though she had spent her wedding day saving people and had the shortest wedding ceremony known to man, it had been one of the best days of her life. Still smiling, Sue slipped the photograph into the album and picked up another photo.

Others probably considered the work monotonous; Johnny had always weaselled his way out of making family photo albums, even when he was small. But Sue enjoyed it: she liked reminiscing as she took each photo and slipped into its own transparent holder.

It had been only eight days since the Fantastic Four had narrowly avoided the end of the world and a mere week since Susan Storm had become Susan Richards. It felt like a lifetime and Sue was certain it was a good thing. She felt as though she had been married to Reed forever, it all felt so natural. The word fate came to mind whenever she pondered her relationship with Mr Fantastic.

Susan suddenly felt dizzy as she began to wonder if she was meant to be sitting on the bed at that very moment, organizing wedding photos. As Reed constantly reminded her, it had also been nine days since she had died.

I died.

Susan often tried to pretend it didn't bother her but there was something incredibly unsettling about realising she had ceased to exist for thirty seconds. She had absolutely no memory of any sort of afterlife or anything. It felt a lot like she had just fallen asleep. The Surfer's intervention was unnatural, the kind of thing that wasn't meant to happen. By all rights she should be dead, shouldn't she? She had quite literally been resurrected and as Reed had constantly told her, the both of them were incredibly lucky to get another chance.

Sue closed the photo album and got off the bed. She walked quickly and quietly towards the window. Slowly she propped it open, glad that Reed had finally got round to stopping the irritating squeak that seemed to pop up every time the window moved. It was mid-August so she didn't feel cold standing by an open window in a flimsy slip. The sky was cloudy, hiding the twinkling stars beneath a blanket of cotton wool. Sue stared out over the New York skyline; even with the missing stars it was still a beautiful sight. She leaned over the edge of the window and stared down at the street below. Not surprisingly, it wasn't very busy. A few paparazzi were hanging around outside the building, hoping to get a shot of a drunken Johnny going home or the mysterious woman he had been seen with over the last couple of days. Sue smiled. She knew Johnny wouldn't be coming home tonight: something about trying to win back Frankie. Johnny's new girlfriend hadn't been impressed with the stunt he had been pulled at the wedding or the pictures that had surfaced of him partying in Venice a few days ago.

A sudden wave of vertigo hit Sue and she quickly stepped away from the window and into the safety of the room. She sat back on the bed to stabilize herself.

Beside her Reed stirred in his sleep.

Sue closed her eyes and gripped the edge of the bed. Much to her surprise the light-headed feeling did not disappear. She began to take a few deep breaths, but after a few seconds her breathing began to struggle.

Raspy, laboured breaths echoed through the room.

Sue stood up to make her way to the bathroom. The uncomfortable feeling of nausea began to fill her. She stumbled into the en suite, heading straight for the toilet. She fumbled blindly for the light switch, eventually finding it, before she entered the room.

A fleeting, absent-minded look in the mirror made Sue freeze. Something didn't look right.

"Reed," she tried to shout, but her voice came out as a raspy whisper.

Reed shifted around slightly.

Sue stared, frozen, at her reflection. She looked...dead. Panic began to fill her as pain shot through her chest. There was no way she was simply 'coming down with something' and she didn't even try and consider morning sickness. One hand automatically reached out to clutch the painful spot. She looked down and was horrified at the sight that greeted her.

The fabric beneath and around her hand was slowly turning crimson. It spread out like a drop of ink, growing bigger and bigger. Shocked, Sue pulled her hand away only to found her palm had a thin coating of the sticky substance. The pain was overwhelming. Sue made a few more futile attempts to scream for her husband, unable to tear her eyes off her reflection.

The stifling pain built up until it was, quite simply, no more.

Her body fell to the ground with a dull thud. She lay on her back; her arms lay limply by her side. Blank eyes stared up at the lampshade she had brought only a few weeks before.

Reed didn't even move.