He felt as if he were not there, couldn't be there. It seemed too surreal, as the whole day had, and he was as shocked as she when the metallic bang sounded and reverberated around the fated room. Hesitating for the briefest of seconds, he somehow managed to muster up what could have passed for a calm voice and told Kim to get out. She protested, and, for reasons he did not know, it was then that he felt full force years of pent up emotion. He found his mind harboring on what might've seemed to be a random memory, but in fact held much deeper meaning for him, a day that he hadn't allowed himself to think about in ages…

It had happened on their weekend in Santa Barbra, one of the last times that he had been truly happy. They had gone for a stroll one evening a little before dusk and had discovered a secluded garden. Its antiqued old gate was hidden behind an overhanging of curtain-like ivy that uttered a soft whisper when they brushed it aside. Inside it was sweet smelling, but not overpowering. Though having been apparently forgotten for years, the garden was beautiful, tranquil. A weathered fountain, ornate despite its age, sat in the middle of the small space. It was no longer running, but even so it looked like it belonged there, like it had always and would always be there. Plants and flowers abounded, roses in particular, passionate red, innocent pink, and subdued yellow. A great ancient willow tree resided in a corner, graceful in its loneliness. It felt somehow secluded from everything else, private, peaceful, and protective all at once. They had lain side by side in the soft, comforting grass under the tree, oblivious to the rest of the world, looking around at the haven they had discovered together. She touched his arm gently, pointing her tiny hand at a nearby butterfly perched delicately on one of the trees many sweeping tendrils. Another fluttered over to join it, landing noiselessly on the same strand of foliage. He turned his head to look at her in silence and found an inquisitive and enthralled expression on her perfect face.

She said softly, "Isn't it amazing that all of us are only a single being in this universe? I mean, why isn't everyone lonely?" They relapsed into silence, watching the butterflies once more. The wind swayed quietly, and the newcomer floated up into the air lazily. The first one did the same, and they seemed to whirl and twirl in circles with the breeze, looking as if they were dancing together.

A thought came to him and he answered slowly, "When you find someone in the millions that are out there, someone to be with, someone to dance with, loneliness just isn't a factor anymore." The two continued to lie there motionless for a moment, and the butterflies danced, and the willow whispered a melody, the gentle breeze serenading it. She had reached for his hand and that is how they had stayed for hours, hand in hand and side by side, well past dark in that enchanted place. She had said to him later in a melancholy voice, "I've never been given more useful information." It was that day that he had realized how much he truly loved her.

Realization at what he had just done forced him back to reality, to the horrible situation that he was actually in. Nina lay still where she had fallen, covered in her own blood. He suddenly felt the intense urge to throw up, but instead walked over to her, staring with intense sadness down at her rigid form. Her neck still bled, and now the bullet wound in her shoulder bled too. For a moment they looked silently into each others eyes. He was even more repulsed with what he had done when he saw what was in hers. The very same thing that he knew was in his: years of memories, unspoken words, sweet nothings… and intense pain. For the first time in a long time, they were just Jack and Nina. No schemes, no lies, no cover-ups. Their very souls were laid out for the other, connected in a way that had not and could not die.

He loved her, so he said "You don't have anymore useful information do you, Nina?" In his words was a silent plea, he had to let her know that he had loved her before and loved her still, and he had to know if she felt the same before he had to do it. There was no other way to put an end to her misery, to their misery. She said, her voice wavering, "Yes, I do." He gazed into her beautiful, intelligent eyes one last time, reading them one last time, knowing now that she loved him, had never stopped loving him, silently trying to transmit his affection once more. She let out a small contented sigh of resignation and peace. And he did it. It was over. He went to lie down beside her, reached for her still hand, and allowed himself to cry for her.

It was over this time. She knew what he was trying desperately to tell her, exactly what she had been trying to let him know. He loved her, she loved him, and she was ready. With her last breath she thought of a different time, a different place. A sweet smelling garden, a small, winged couple under a willow tree, and holding the hand of her own someone in the world. The sound of the gentle wind and of Jack's peaceful voice…

Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this! Hope you enjoyed it! Please R&R!