Lost

He loved her. He loved her and she was dying. He found her outside his apartment; a single bullet pierced her skin, right below her heart. It had been meant for him.

"Michael..."

"Its okay, its okay baby" Michael started to panic. There was so much blood, too much. He tried to stop it but it just leaked through his hands, staining them red.

"Shh…it's going to be okay. Max will come and we'll fix this, just hang on. Stay with me" Michael pleaded to her. She meant the world to him and he couldn't, he wouldn't give her up. He loved her so much, more than life itself, literally. He would die so she could live. He never imagined anyone like her in his life, someone who loved him so much, so unconditionally. He felt the tears fall down his cheeks. She was paying too high a price for loving him and he was determined to make it right. She was his light, his reason for living. With each breath he took, every step he walked, every thought in his head, she was there. No, he wouldn't let her die because of him. He couldn't. He needed her to live. His breath hitched in his throat as he thought about what was happening. It wasn't supposed to be this way. They had plans- marriage, a home…children. He saw his unborn in her eyes, he dreamed of her with his baby son and daughter- twins. He had once seen twins in their future. He heard her singing them to sleep; god she had a beautiful voice. She sang to him. During the darkest part of the night when his old insecurities threatened to bury him alive, she sang to him. He followed the sound of her voice, back to her, back into her sweet embrace. She would brush his hair and kiss his forehead, not saying a word, just singing. He couldn't do this; it was too much, too fast. He held her tighter.

"It's okay Michael" Her breathing was labored. She tried to raise her hand to stroke his cheek, but the effort was too much for her failing body. He caught it before it fell to the ground and running his thumb over her knuckles, he tenderly kissed each finger.

"God, no, Maria. Please, hold on, hold on to me…" He prayed then. He was never religious but in that moment, with Maria dying in his arms, he prayed to a God he never believed in. Spare her. Don't do this. I've never asked for anything before. Please, please don't take her from this world. Don't steal her life. He didn't ask for her not to be taken from him, he would give his life for her. He just wanted her to live, to go on. He could be happy knowing that she was living, even if it couldn't be with him. Take me instead, please. Do something.

"michael…" her whisper was almost silent, she was growing weaker.

"Shhh…save your strength baby" Whenever she whispered his name, he felt his heart stop. She always did it after they made love. She would whisper it so silently, so carefully, as if it would shatter into a million pieces if she said it just one breath louder. He never heard anyone say anything like that, as if it were the most precious thing in the world, to be cherished and protected against any possible threat or pain or hurt. And it was for him, his name. It always floored him. She had told him once that that it meant "who is like God." He had just looked at her.

Michael gathered his arms tighter around her. She was his wife, his mate, his lover, his best friend, his everything. He was losing her and he knew it. The pain at that moment threatened to consume him. He was losing the one thing in his life that he had never asked for, never expected, but deep down always wanted and couldn't live with out. If she died, here, in his arms, he knew he would never forgive anyone or anything. He would curse himself, blaming his own inadequacy for not protecting her better, he would curse his creators for not giving him the power to heal, he would curse her for leaving him, he would curse Max and the others for not being there to stop this, he would curse God for taking her from him.

"michael…kiss me" she begged him as her last tears pooled in her eyes.

"No…I can't" Michael looked down at the girl in his arms. He knew what she was doing, what she was asking, and he couldn't go through with it, he couldn't give her the release she wanted. Maybe it was selfish of him; maybe he was just a coward.

"please…I love you. Always and Forever." The sound barely escaped her lips.

He had to, he couldn't refuse her anything, never could. He always gave in, in the end. He put up a hell of a fight sometimes, they both did, but she always won him over. Kyle once joked that he was whipped. He had denied it. Her body went limp in his arms and he jerked his thoughts back to the present, leaning down to whisper in her ear…

"I love you. I've never loved anything but you and you were the only one who ever loved me. I'm alone without you. Dead. I'm sorry, god, I'm sorry. I'm too weak. I can't do this. But don't worry, I promise you that we will be together soon. I'll never leave you just like you won't leave me. I love you. I love you." He tried to speak as sincerely as he could, with as much conviction his voice would allow. Love, that didn't even begin to describe what he felt for her, it was so much more. Love was just a word, random letters strewn together and given a definition. It wasn't possible to define the feelings he felt for her and her for him. It was nothing and it was everything. It was everywhere. It was incomprehensible. He needed to show her instead. He leaned down and took her lips in a passionate kiss and even though she had lost almost all of her strength, she kissed him back with a fiery passion that captured everything they meant to each other. But it wasn't enough. "michael…" Maria Deluca's last dying breath flowed over Michael's lips into his mouth.

Michael held his breath. He couldn't let go. He wouldn't. The world was spinning, he felt sick and he leaned over as his body betrayed him, his stomach lurched and he threw up in the grass over and over again until there was nothing left. "No" his voice was harsh and strangled. She was gone, he let her go. He watched as his breath and what had been her last, which he so desperately tried to hold on to, escaped, showing up stark white against the dark cold night, disappearing as the wind carried it away. He was cold, too cold. He felt the pit of despair deep in his belly, his head ached, and there was a pounding in his ears. His entire body trembled as all his muscles spasmed out of control. All he felt was the cold and the pain. It washed over his body in waves. So this was what it was to be alone; desperately and utterly alone. It was nothing like what he had experienced before she had even come into his life. This was a thousand times worse. To have had something so beautiful, so…he wouldn't say perfect, they weren't perfect, they were flawed and he loved it. But to have had that, felt it, and to lose it so abruptly and violently…it was like a jagged dagger cutting into him, the pain reaching deep down to the depths of his very soul, every molecule in his body feeling it, responding to it agonizingly. It was slowly and torturously ripping him apart from the inside out. He couldn't breath, he clutched at his chest, his heart ached and each beat was a painful stab. He fell to the ground, twisting in agony, clutching her body to his. She was too cold. He had to warm her up but he couldn't. Michael looked at her face, her beautiful face. She looked so…peaceful that he could almost believe she was sleeping. But the smell of blood told a different story. It covered her chest and his hands. Not knowing what to do, Michael Guerin looked up to the stars and screamed.

Maria Deluca woke with a start. Michael was screaming and shaking in the bed next to her.

"Michael, Michael, wake up. Wake up baby, you're having a nightmare" She gathered him in her arms and stroked his hair as she desperately tried to calm him. Suddenly Michael flew up in the bed, looking around with wild and desperate eyes. When his gaze finally found her, she was shocked to see silent tears running down his cheeks. She had only seen him cry twice before.

"Michael, Michael, what's wrong. Its okay, it's okay. I'm here, you're safe with me." She pulled him into her arms and he buried his head into her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. They sat like that for a long time before Michael finally stirred. Sitting back and taking her hands in his he explained,

"I had a dream, a nightmare that you died. You left me and I couldn't do anything about it. You died with my name on your lips…" Michael's voice cracked "It was all so real, too real."

"It's okay now, Michael. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. It's okay" Maria smiled at him, desperate to reassure him and soothe his worries. Michael smiled back.

"I love you." He reached up a hand to stroke her face. It was then that he noticed the blood. "No, no, no…" He started to shake, beads of sweat formed on his forehead. "This is real, that was a dream, she's here, she's safe here with me" he argued.

"Michael?" Maria was worried. Michael had started talking to himself, rocking back and forth. He suddenly looked at her and gathered her in his arms, crushing her to him.

"I love you and you're here" He whispered in her hair.

"Of course I'm here Michael. I love you. Always and Forever." Maria kissed his chest, right over his heart while Michael continued to hold her, ignoring the blood on his hands

"Max, I hate to see him like this, can't you heal him?" Isabel pleaded with her brother.

"No, Izzy, I'm sorry. I can't" Max's eyes were filled with pain as he looked at what used to be his friend, his brother.

"Why, why can't you heal him Max? I can't take this. First we lost Maria and now Michael…" she trailed off as a tear escaped down her face.

"I can't heal him because he doesn't want to be healed" Max answered solemnly. He came to Michael every day and it was always the same. Michael lived in his own world now, and he didn't want to leave it.

"At least he seems happy, most of the time." Max tried to reassure Isabel. "Today was just a bad day." Michael did that sometimes. He had his good days and his bad. During the good days, Michael seemed almost…giddy as his life with Maria played out in his head. From watching him Max knew that they lived happily in a home with a dog and two children- twins, a boy and girl. It was painful for Max to watch, knowing it could never really be. The bad, however, were even worse, almost unbearable. He relived it, over and over again in his head. Sometimes he begged to die, sometimes he screamed, and other times he just said nothing.

"Visiting hours are over" the nurse interrupted his thoughts. It was time to go. Max wrapped his arms around his sister and silently led her away from the mental hospital.

"We'll be back tomorrow, Michael." Max reassured his friend.

But Michael didn't heard him. He never did. He just sat, hugging himself and whispering "I love you" over and over, the words dying in the silent room.