One Step Closer To Heaven
"Till kingdom come," Clay Evans whispered as soon as Quinn disappeared, wrenched back to the land of the living. His voice carried across the waves on the eerily deserted beach where he now stood all alone; limbo was somehow a familiar and strange place all at once. At least he could watch over the proceedings down at the hospital from this bizarre, ghostly vantage point. Clay had always liked superheroes, and a common skill was the power of invisibility. Somehow it was much less appealing when the invisibility wasn't optional. Even time seemed to pass strangely in limbo; Clay mused as he stood by pure willpower by Quinn's bedside. It seemed so recently she had been on this side with him, complaining of weakness because her body was healing. Now there she lay, awake and with a single tear rolling down her cheek. Did she remember their conversation before he had made her leave him behind? That in itself was a bizarre thought.
At that moment Haley stormed into the room with a nurse in tow. While the nurse unhooked Quinn's respirator, Clay stared at Haley's face; there was no way that was just a pregnancy glow. The love and relief to see her sister on the mend was so obvious, that Clay couldn't regret forcing Quinn to open her eyes. But as soon as the tube was out of her mouth, Quinn gasped his name hoarsely. Haley obscured his girlfriend from view when she hugged her, but Clay's heart clenched anyway when Quinn started to sob. The truth was he was feeling strong in this strange limbo world, and if his theory was right, that meant his body was further away from regaining consciousness than Quinn had been. Promising to come back to her had been easy in theory but if it was actually going to be physically possible was a much bigger question at this point. "Nathan's with him now," he heard Haley tell Quinn soothingly, as if the fact that his comatose body wasn't alone should be some comfort. Quinn continued to shake in her sister's arms, but Clay took that as his cue to check on, well, himself.
His room wasn't far from Quinn's, but the view was much less optimistic. When he entered, Nathan was lowering the newspaper he had been reading aloud from. Classic doctor's advice, keep coma patients company with normal activities. Clay was staring at the machines breathing for him when Nathan spoke. The article he'd just read had been about the victory one of Clay's clients recently had, and the contents had clearly triggered an emotional response in his friend. "You were right, dude; we really waste our words and moments. You…you have too many more success stories to be a part of." Nathan held on to Clay's motionless hand as if it would make a difference. "I got my dream job because of you man; it won't seem right if you're not here to share it with."
What promised to progress into a very sentimental speech was suddenly interrupted by alarms beeping all around them. Nathan stumbled back from the bed in horror when nurses came hurtling in to investigate the emergency. The last thing Clay saw was Nathan running out towards Quinn's room, then the hospital scene melted away, and he found himself back on the beach where he had let Quinn go.
The transition hadn't been voluntary this time, that much was certain. Clay frowned at the waves lapping around his feet; the beach was a lot more enjoyable when he was frolicking around with Quinn. Now it seemed like he might never even see her again. If Clay had currently been breathing the devastating thought would probably have put a halt to it. What had been heaven in Quinn's company was fast becoming his personal hell, that was pretty much the only certain fact for Clay at this moment. "Hello handsome," a voice chimed suddenly, startling Clay out of his thoughts with the aching familiarity. Great, now he was probably dead and delusional to boot! Because when he looked up, he suddenly wasn't alone on the stretch of warm sand, standing just paces away from was Sara, his dead wife.
"I am so dead," he murmured, the shock of her appearance resulting in his first words since Quinn disappeared, an odd feeling. Every time he had imagined Sara around him since her death she had been in different outfits, a figment of his imagination. Now, while he stared at the prints of her bare feet in the sand she crossed, she was in the same cream sundress she had been wearing the day she died.
"Not yet you're not," she corrected seriously, coming to a halt right in front of him. Hesitantly Clay lifted one hand to her face and trailed it down her smooth cheek, completely solid. "And you're not dreaming either," she smiled, as if she had read his mind.
A million questions were buzzing in his head, but Clay couldn't speak. He could touch her, which was all that mattered right now. Sara was tiny compared to Quinn. She had always made him feel so strong and capable of protecting her from the day they met and jumped off that bridge in college, hand in hand. All thoughts of Quinn wiped from his mind; Clay crushed the short blonde against him firmly. "God I missed you, angel," he choked out, trying his hardest not even to blink. This whole thing was so surreal; it would be only too easy for her to vanish again. "Why don't you stay around me anymore?"
"You don't need me anymore," she said simply, and Clay gaped at her, that wasn't the answer he'd been expecting. He opened his mouth to protest the preposterous idea, but Sara cut across him again, more urgently. "Honey, will you just let me finish, please? I don't know how long we have," she sighed. "You do know you have to go back, right? How are you feeling right now?"
Clay thought about it for a moment; this spirit strength thing was quite bizarre. "A little weaker than before," he admitted finally.
Sara grasped his hand with a grim smile; "Good," she said quietly. "I need to show you something, come on."
Once again the surrounding beach view dissolved and Clay found himself back in Quinn's hospital room. This time Nathan was perched on the bed, hugging her gingerly; "He'll pull through Quinn, just you wait!"
"What if he doesn't, Nate?" she said desperately, raw emotion in her voice like Clay hadn't heard since her mother's death the previous year.
He glanced at Sara, shaken up by the sight. "What's going on here?"
"You're in surgery now," she explained. "A kidney became available, that's probably why you feel weaker than before. It's almost time to go back," she trailed off at his look of horror. Shaking her head helplessly Sara dragged him out of the room, straight into the operating theatre where Clay could see himself knocked out. "There you are, look!"
"I can't let you go again," Clay said loudly, no one could hear him anyway. "Sara, I can't! You have no idea what it was like after you left me, pure hell."
"Are you really willing to put Quinn through that hell?" she challenged smartly, damn it. Clay stared into her warm brown eyes; the familiar teasing glint was so unbelievably painful. "You're not letting me go this time," she continued gently. "I'm letting you go." Her arms looped around his neck, pulling his head down for a kiss. Her lips were as soft and forceful as ever; the fact let Clay drown out her words. How could she be the one letting him go?
Too soon Sara pulled back, and this time there were tears in her eyes. "I'm really proud of you Clay, never forget that," she told him waveringly.
"I love you," he moaned into her hair, hugging her close while she rubbed her eyes. It took Clay a moment to realize they weren't in the hospital anymore, or even in Tree Hill from the looks of it. Confused once more, he stared at the oddly familiar green picket fence they were standing in front of. "Hold up, where are we now?"
"There's one more thing I need you to see before we run out of time," Sara explained quickly. She took his hand and again by will power the pair ended up inside the house, more specifically in a bedroom.
At the sight of the elderly woman reading a small boy a bedtime story, a distant memory lurched forcefully to the fore-front of Clay's mind, more pain. "Your Mom?" he asked, not really needing the answer to know that it was.
"And Logan," Sara murmured sadly. "My parents adore him, but I just needed you to see this. It may be bizarre to ask you for something since you'll be going back to a fantastic life, but he's our baby," Sara stressed. She pulled him closer to the bed; Logan already had his eyes closed. "He's almost five years old already," she said fondly. "Look after him Clay, please!"
She leaned into him, trembling with deprived sobs and Clay held on to her with his eyes closed, this was too much to watch. "I'm sorry baby, so sorry!"
The next thing he knew, they were back on the Tree Hill beach, and Clay plopped down onto the damp sand, suddenly dizzy. "You're ready," Sara said gently, kneeling down beside him.
"No," Clay protested, suddenly he understood how Quinn must have felt. "No, I'm not ready to let go!"
"You promised Quinn a lifetime of happiness," Sara reminded him. "The man I love wouldn't break a vow like that." She held his face between her soft hands and tilted her head to graze against his. "Stop acting like you don't deserve this happy ending," she pleaded. "Besides, our son needs his father!"
"He needed his mother too," Clay returned bitterly, instantly regretting it when her eyes brimmed with tears again. "This isn't fair!"
"I live in him, Clay," Sara said quietly; "in him and in here," she pressed her hand to his heart. "You don't belong here, not yet!" She tried without much success to smile; "I'll be right here waiting in fifty years or so, right now you belong with Quinn, understand? Don't you dare tell me you don't love her, knucklehead!"
There was nothing more Clay could say to argue that, he did love Quinn very much. She was the light in his formerly suicidal darkness and probably didn't even know it yet, Sara was right. Apparently, she could see the cogs turning in his mind, processing all the feelings, because she smiled sadly and pulled him to his feet. "Promise you'll get back into Logan's life," she begged, pressing a final deep kiss to his lips.
Clay held her tightly against him, feeling distinctly faint now. "I promise angel," he breathed; "I love you so much."
"And I love you, that's why you deserve the life waiting for you now," she replied. Her eyes seemed to be penetrating his soul as Clay stared at her for what he knew would be the last time; this was the goodbye he never got the day she died. "Now open your eyes," she demanded still so gently, "On the count of two."
"One…," Sara murmured, drawing out the word in spite of her big speech, her big hazel eyes fixed on Clay's face for the final time. He squeezed her delicate fingers desperately, even before she reached the second count another voice reached Clay's ears, Quinn's. It was saying something about football star Troy Jamison's latest success, fading in and out as though through a badly tuned radio. "Two," Sara whispered, and in a flash of white light, she and the beach vanished once and for all. The brightness seemed to remain though, and then there was awareness of the roughness in his throat and extreme pain, definitely alive then.
At the end of the paragraph she was reading out from the day's newspaper, Quinn looked up with the usual undying hope of improvement. The paper slid off her lap as the unexpected sight of Clay's bright blue eyes propelled her to her feet. "Oh my God," she gasped, tears immediately threatening to fall. She quickly buzzed the nurse and squeezed his finally mobile fingers impatiently while his respirator was removed.
"You look pretty," he slurred, focusing on her wide, teary smile to avoid thinking about the grogginess and shooting pain in his shoulder, which didn't make much sense.
"God I missed you," she sighed, holding his hand up against her cheek and closing her eyes, as if cherishing the moment.
Clay's head still felt stuck far away, was it normal to remember out of body experiences so vividly? In the final flash of light before the beach disappeared, he could have sworn the encouraging smile slipped off Sara's face. The thought made his chest ache even more than it should considering the gunshot wound. "Is this heaven?" he heard himself ask without planning the words.
"Just my version of it," Quinn said, with such a wide grin that Clay almost felt better. Then Quinn pressed a kiss to his forehead and lingered on the contact, it was the final pull to earth he needed, this was real.
The realization triggered less pleasant memories in turn, the sight of Katie with a gun, pain before losing consciousness, all his fault. "We're alive," he said out loud. "I'm sorry Q, this is all my fault!"
"Focus on the being alive part," she said sternly, frowning in concern when he grimaced. "What is it? Does something hurt?"
"Not as long as I have you," he replied, forcing a smile. Who knew if what happened with Sara was even real? Quinn hadn't mentioned her experience even though they'd been together at first; it was time to move on. "I love you, Quinn James," he said simply. "Till kingdom come."
Quinn kicked off her shoes at that and curled up beside him on the bed; there would be time to call Nathan and Haley later. There would always be crazy people in the world, but this was not the end of their story. "I'm not going anywhere," she said firmly. Eventually, Clay's medication knocked him out again, but with Quinn's warm body pressed against his, it was pretty close to heaven on earth.
A / N I multi-ship for Clay, Clinn and Clara are both epic! This story made me feel really sorry for Sara, and there may be a sequel about the Evans family after Logan coming one day. Enjoy! xx