Warning: A little language.
Spoiler Warning: Season Two up through Oversight.

Crossing Over (1/1)

"I was afraid it was going to go bad." A voice said with a heavy sigh.

"What?" She asked. She felt so disoriented and surreal. She thought her pulse should be pounding and her breathing fast due to what she had been just been doing, except all was quiet now. Eerily quiet. What had just happened? She felt like she had just been torn apart. But a great nothingness now filled her, an absence of all feeling.

"I'm sorry, my girl. There was nothing I could do." The voice was male, a little gruff, but filled with sorrow. "I wish I could have."

She didn't even know if the voice was familiar or not. She hadn't heard voices in years. "Wait, I can hear you!"

For the first time in many years, she was able to hear clearly. Her world had been silenced many years ago, that fateful night when her parents car had careened off the road killing them both and leaving her nearly dead. The sounds of screeching, tires, breaking metal and glass and her mother screaming were the last sounds she ever remembered hearing. Since then, it was all about feeling... the beat of a pounding stereo, the feel of footsteps approaching her, Stanley's heavy slamming of the door or shaking her to wake her up, the brush of air from someone passing by her, the light of the sun coming up to wake her each morning, the feel of fresh peaches as she picked them from a tree. She used to think she could hear things if she focused enough, but it never worked. Her world had become a world of touch, taste, and sight, and endless silence.

But she had heard this voice clearly. Her sight wasn't working so well, as all was dark and hazy, as if walking through fog. And she felt dizzy, as if she had just been spinning in circles like she had when playing as a little girl.

"Yeah. My back stopped hurting, even my bum knee. It took me a while, too, to figure out what happened. They said it's always rough when its violent. They said that the disorientation is normal and will wear off."

She heard her voice asking. "Disorientation? From what?"

"I know you don't want to see this, but you have to. Look."

She tried to focus on the dim lights moving around her. There were figures in the fog, murmurs that sounded like voices, but she couldn't quite make either out. But the longer she focused, the more clear things began to be and the dizziness started to fade away. She recognized the familiar settings of her living room in the farmhouse. The old furniture had been her parents and her grandparents. Her grandmother's antique sewing machine still sat by the wall and familiar knick-knacks and photographs covered the walls and tables. But things were out of place and broken and it was dark now. Hadn't it been daytime? There was a cot with someone laying on it and a figure standing over it. There were several figures standing around as several others burst through the front door, panicked expressions on their faces that quickly changed to horror. There were sounds, but they were faint and distant.

And there was Stanley. He was back from wherever he had gone with the Jericho Rangers. But he was holding something... or someone, on the floor and crying. She moved closer to get a better look.

Horror lanced through her as she saw her own face, eyes closed, being gently cradled in her brother's arms. She was still wearing her favorite jeans and pink top. But her chest was bleeding and she wasn't moving. Stanley was crying. She had never seen her brother cry before.

"Oh God, oh God!" She cried and signed at the same time, her own language from the past ten years coming back to her naturally. She thought she was crying, but could feel no tears. She couldn't feel a thing, though she felt sure her own body was there. She touched her hand to her forearm and barely felt her own touch. She could see it, but it no longer felt the same. Not cold, not warm... just there. She was wearing the same clothes as the body Stanley held in his arms, but there was no blood on her clothes or body. Even the scar from the back of her hand was gone.

"I know, I know, my dear." The voice said, breaking slightly.

She focused her eyes a bit more. Near the doorway leading into the kitchen was a man, looking sad and solemn. He was balding and his beard was peppered with gray, his eyes were a calm gray-blue. She knew him well. She had known him all her life. He was wearing a blue shirt, jeans and a brown vest.

"I'm sorry, Bonnie." Johnston Green told her. "No one deserves to die like that, especially one so young."

"Die?" she asked. It still wasn't sinking in what she was seeing. "Mayor Green? But you're dead!"

"Yeah. For a while now. Still getting used to the way things works." He nodded. Now that she saw him, Johnston Green seemed to look different, alive and well. She had seen his sheet covered body being carried out of her house. But he wasn't covered in blood and looked to be alive with a faint glow, but maybe that was because her vision wasn't working right. "You'll find it's not so bad, but its hard to let go, harder than I imagined. And somehow I keep coming back here, to the place I died. I guess we'll both be hanging out here for a while from now on."

"I'm dead?" She asked, incredulous. She looked back down at Stanley holding the body. It was her body. She felt a pull to it, but more and more, she felt the tendrils of her connection to it fading.

"I'm sorry. They told me you will get used to, letting the old world go. But I just can't, not yet. Not when my boys are still here. And Gail. Not when the fate of Jericho and our country hangs in the balance." Johnston spoke with seriousness and fortitude. His expression reminded her of the many times she saw him make speeches. It had always been rough to read his lips, but she could always tell by his expression and gestures how strongly he felt for what he was saying and how he felt about Jericho and its people. He had inspired Jericho for years and kept them all working together in the days following the bombs.

Bonnie saw Jake stepping forward from the door. The look of loss on his face was almost as bad as Stanley's. Shock, horror, sadness. But what had happened? Images flashed through her mind, and memories of the feel of guns firing throbbing in the wood floor beneath her feet, the feel of the rifle going off in her hands as she shot the Ravenwood men breaking into her house.

"They came in here." It was still weird to hear the sound of her own voice and not just the odd sensation of it echoing in her head. She never knew what her voice sounded like, especially once she grew older. "They were going to hurt Mimi."

"I saw. You were a helluva shot. Who taught you to shoot like that?" He took a few steps closer to her. He seemed to be strong and vibrant.

"Stanley did." She looked around but didn't see anyone that looked like the Ravenwood men. They had been coming for Mimi. ""Mimi?"

Bonnie started looking around the living room but it was dark, as if looking through fog. She could see Stanley, Jake Green and a few others but the rest faded as she moved about. She took a few steps around but didn't see Mimi. But then she saw her. A paramedic was leaning over Mimi on a gurney as he prepared to move her out of the house. Mimi had been shot.

"She's alive... for now. I think they're taking her to the med center." Johnston informed her. "You saved her. And you may have just saved us all. Maybe now they will wake the hell up and do something. I'm just sorry it took something like this to do it."

"But they're all crying." Bonnie said, looking at all the faces around them. Jake she knew, and Ms. Sullivan, and the deputies. The shock and grief was evident on all their faces. But Stanley.. the pain and anguish was something she had never seen before and it struck her hard in her chest. She even felt it in this new surreal body of hers. If she had still been breathing, she would have sobbed aloud. She wanted to cry, but no tears came.

"I know, that's the hardest part. Watching and not being able to do a damn thing." Johnston laid a comforting arm around her shoulders. She could barely feel his touch, but she knew it was there. "But at least we're here together. I'll try and help you through the first couple of days. You'll see others too. They tend to disappear when it happens. Sometimes its hard to watch and remember. But I figured you could use a friend."

"Stanley..." Bonnie stepped forward and reached out to touch Stanley but her hand just passed through his head. Stanley didn't even flinch or react to her touch or the sound of her voice. She looked back at Johnston in confusion.

"They can 't hear or feel us, not anymore, at least, not like you think." He explained. "They should be here soon to take you to orientation. They'll tell you about how things work here there."

"But can I come back? Just to see Stanley and make sure he's okay?" Bonnie asked. She didn't want to go, not now. Stanley would need her, he always had.

Johnston nodded. "Yeah, you can. We all tend to linger where we died or places that were important to us. Not much else to do, unless you decide to move on for good and never come back. They'll tell you about that at orientation."

He took a few steps over to stand near Jake, looking sadly at his son. He raised an arm as if to touch him, but stopped in midair. The expression on his face was one of love and sadness but with a touch of pride. He sighed heavily again. "My poor boy, still struggling to find himself and figure things out."

"But I won't be able to talk to him anymore? Or touch him?" She stared at Stanley, so heartbroken and lost. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to tell him that it would be okay. That she loved him and was sorry for everything she had ever done to hurt him. She had had such plans, to finally leave home and seek out a new life and opportunities, where her skills in sign language could be used, and where she could be a part of the new government and helping others, seeing the big world beyond Jericho for once in her life. Why did things have to end? Why now?

"No." But Johnston looked thoughtful for a moment. "But I'll let you in on a secret they won't tell you in orientation. Sometimes, you can talk to them again, but it's very hard and you really have to want it bad. Sometimes, when their minds are at their quietest, when they are sleeping or when they are thinking about you, you can touch their minds, or whisper on the wind, or make them think of you, only for an instant."

"Then he can hear me?" She looked at Stanley. Maybe she could tell him how much all he had ever done for her meant to her. That she had died trying to protect Mimi, that she knew Mimi had been the best thing that had ever happened to her brother and she was glad that she had come into their lives.

"Well, not exactly." Johnston replied. "I saw it done once already. April showed me with Gail at the cemetery. But they won't really hear you, but they will feel a chill, or dream about you. Most of us used to just chalk it up to imagination, or just where our thoughts were already going anyway. Dad said he used to visit me like that. But we'll know, we'll know that we touched them, even just a little bit."

"Stanley!" Bonnie whispered, reaching out to touch her brother's face, cupping it softly with her hand. She could no longer feel him, but her entire heart was in the simple gesture. His heartache was her heartache.

Stanley lifted his chin a notch and visibly shuddered. But it turned into a silent sob as he went back to stroking her hair.

"I can see you're going to be much better at this than me." Johnston chuckled.

A bright light flashed over by the fireplace. But no one in the room seemed to notice it, the figures going about what they were doing, most of them still standing there in shock as they stared at Stanley. The light began to grow, larger and wider until it nearly filled the room and blinded her with light. Bonnie covered her eyes but made herself keep watching, transfixed. Even Johnston Green covered his eyes, but he didn't look alarmed. When her eyes adjusted to the light, it revealed a doorway glowing bright into the fog around them. The figures in the room and faint sounds she had heard started to fade away.

"Ah, they are here already." Johnston smiled as he looked at her. "They've been a little slow lately, with all the people who died and keep dying. But someone should be there for you."

"Who?" Bonnie asked.

"You'll see." He looked pleased.

"Bonnie, my baby." A voice called from the doorway. It was a voice she vaguely recognized from her memories, singing her to sleep, reading stories to her, teaching her how to tie her shoes and collect the chicken eggs. The light felt warm and welcoming and called to her.

"Mom?" She found herself signing the name, but remembered that her mother didn't know sign language. She only used it when praying and talking to her late at night.

"It's okay, you can go with them now." Johnston nodded at the door.

"But Stanley..." She looked back at Stanley still crying as he held her lifeless body.

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on him for now. And my boy Jake will look after him, too." He nodded at the graying figure near by. "I'll be here when you get back. I could use a little help keeping an eye on things around here. I think it's going to get much, much worse. So hurry up with your orientation."

"Come on, my little Bonnie girl." Her father's voice called this time. "It's time."

She saw two silhouettes on the other side of the door, their arms outstretched. Slowly, the visage of her parents shimmered into being in the light of the door. Their faces were joyously happy and welcoming. She felt their love reaching out for her, calling to her.

"Bye, Stanley, I love you." She whispered, signing for one last time as she said the words In that instant, she felt the last vestiges of mortality leaving her new immortal body, the connection between her and her brother fading at last.

Bonnie Richmond stepped through the doorway and into the welcoming arms of her parents.

The End.