Title taken from 'A Whisper & A Clamor' by Anberlin
Set sometime between just before the beginning of season four and episode three of season four.
"Nathan." Audrey's breath whispered across his ear. The scent of her was delicious to him like apples and pancakes. Nathan smiled and refused to open his eyes. "Na-than." She dragged out the first syllable like a song, nudging him to look at her. He pursed his lips together. She let out a small giggle and pressed her lips to his eyes and then to his mouth. Her body moved smoothly against his. Her fingers pushed through his hair and wound themselves together over the top of his head. She pulled back and he could feel her looking at him. He knew the face she'd be making when he opened his eyes.
"Nathan." She commanded. "Open your eyes." He obeyed one at a time and laughed at the furrow between her eyebrows. He raised a hand to smooth it out and stopped, resting the back of his fingers next to her temple. A breeze from the window was framing her hair about her face. He caught some of it and wrapped it around his practiced fingers.
Audrey's happiness spilled out of her eyes and forced her lips to smile and then laugh as she ducked her head to hide herself. Nathan laughed at her coaxed her to lift her chin. She did and met him halfway in a smiling kiss. Audrey played along his lips with hers and pressed firmly.
She sat up and her eyes darted about. He noticed what she saw. Cracks filled with light were pulling at the walls. Horror filled, Nathan sat up and wrapped his arms about her unresponsive body. She moved further away till she stood at the end of the bed. Nathan crawled after her.
"Audrey." His voice croaked. His hands grasped uselessly in the air before her, inches from her stomach. She held her palm up to stop him.
"I know." Her voice choked on tears. She stepped back. The light grew about her. 'Nathan.' He saw her mouth his name but could hear nothing. Everything was silent blackness. Deep and inky. No sound, no feeling. He could smell nothing. Even the taste of her lips was gone.
Nathan found himself bolt upright on his bed, choking on air.
He rubbed at his face, whiskers scrubbing his unfeeling hands. A gasping sob pushed up from within him and he gave in to the tide. He rocked back and forth as the streams poured from his eyes, gasping for air as he drowned.
Then as the waves abated he lay back exhausted against twisted sheets and breathed. Slower and slower, thin whips of air passed his lips. In and out. In. Out. Maybe he could stop altogether. In. Just sleep. Out. This misery, this loss, was too much. In. How long must he live with it? Out. Another thirty years? In. His wearied mind refused to let the breath out again until his body forced him to. Out. Again he refused to let the air pass his lips. Again his body rebelled and forced a scant amount of life into his lungs.
He lay staring through the thin early morning light at the smooth white ceiling. The only thing keeping him alive, his body that refused to die. After an hour or possibly a few minutes he turned his head at the chirp of a bird and saw her sitting on a tree branch outside. He pushed his hand back through his hair in habit and rose. Shower then breakfast then down to the police station to report to Dwight. He wouldn't bother shaving. Dwight didn't like it but wouldn't call him on it for another few days. And really, what was the point.