She was lying there so pale and still, beautiful under the bruising, gold hair spread over the pillow. She looked so young, so fragile, the hand in his so cold.
"We have to turn it off, Harry," said Leo gently. "We have to let her go."
"No!"
"Harry, you heard what the doctor said. There's nothing they can do for her. It's not Nikki in there any more, she's already gone from us. Is this what she'd have wanted? Being kept alive by a machine?"
"I can't, Leo," he choked. "I can't let her go. So many things I wanted to say to her, I can't… I can't just let her go…"
"It's not Nikki in there any more," he repeated softly. "Let her go, Harry. Let her go."
He sobbed, cradling the body in his arms one last time. "I love you," he whispered. "I never told you, and now you'll never know. I always loved you, I always will… just because we have to do this doesn't mean I love you any less…" He looked up beseechingly at Leo. "At least let me hold her while they… while they…"
Leo sent a questioning look to the doctor, who nodded.
He broke down as the machine flat-lined, her name ripped, anguished, from his lips.
Harry jerked up off the couch where he'd fallen asleep with a dry sob, calming almost immediately. Nightmare, he reminded himself. Her injuries weren't anywhere near as bad as they thought at first, she'll come out of the coma. All we have to do is wait. She'll be fine. She will.
He picked up the phone to see whose phone-call it was that had woken him, and his blood ran cold. Charley, who'd taken that shift to sit by Nikki in the hospital, was calling.
