Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Pairings: Demetri/Zoey
Warnings: Spoilers throughout the show, violence.
Word Count: ~800
Summary: March fifteenth, two thousand and ten. It's D-day, for Demetri Noh at least.
Disclaimer: If I owned any part of FlashForward, I'd do anything to make sure this series gets renewed for another season.
Beta: Un-betaed

Note: Partially based on the 1x16 promo. Due to the nature of this story, I have purposely decided to neglect the fact that Janis might be a mole. Not satisfied with the ending, but I wanted this up before the April 15 episode.


March fifteenth, two thousand and ten.

The date sneaks up on him a little, despite the fact that he's been thinking about it every single day since that damned phone call.

When he opens his eyes, Zoey is beside him, yet to wake. His eyes settle at the calendar hanging on the wall.

There is no panic.

He pulls a strand of hair covering her face and she shuffles a little closer to him, still asleep. He sighs. The day is still early.

At breakfast, Zoey tries to convince him to stay home; he points out that if someone was after him, they could just as easily kill him there. After all, the man behind the blackout has been able to keep a step ahead of the world all this time.

Before he leaves, he kisses her softly.

"I love you, Zoey," he mumbles against her lips.

"I love you too, Dem, more than anything else in this world."

He walks out the door; the weather's sunny and warm. It's D-day today, for Demetri Noh at least.


"I don't want to die."

He doesn't want this to be his last words, but he can't help them slipping from his lips. He's scared, scared of dying, scared of the darkness, scared of the fact that he'll never be able to grasp Zoey's soft, warm hands.

He never hears the shot, but his name distantly being called by Mark. When his body impacts the ground, he knows he's been hit, that his Flash Forward – or lack of one – has come true.

But death is more painful than he'd ever imagined.


Her heels clap loudly against the hospital floor, and her heart beats too loudly for her mind to register anything.

The floor she reaches is full of sombre agents with guns and shiny badges. Janis breaks from the group, takes her hand, and leads her to sit down in the hard plastic chair beside where Mark is standing.

"Three shots to the chest. Lost a lot of blood. He's in surgery."

"Mark brought him in."

When she turns around and looks at Mark, she notices for the first time what's horribly covering his shirt and hands. A gasp escapes her lips.

Janis seems to notice too.

"Mark, go put on another shirt."

Numbly, Zoey let's herself fall against the back of her chair. It's all happening now. She really will walk down the beach, a rose in her hand, but not with Demetri.

Sensing her thoughts, Janice whispers, "He's made it this far now. There is still hope."

And Zoey remembers what she said months ago, right after Demetri confessed about his Flash Forward.

"I choose hope."



She hears two rings before she hears the voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Noh? It's Zoey," she swallows, voice growing thicker. "Demetri…"

Oh god, why was this so hard?

"No."

The damn is broken, and she hands the phone to Janis, unable to continue.


It is warm here, and peaceful. Breathing is painless. He could stay like this.


She sits with Mrs. Noh, and together, they hope because there really isn't much else they can do.


They try to drag him back. He can feel it in every single shock delivered to his heart.

He's had so much time to think about it all, and he doesn't want to die, but now, he's realizes how much easier it is here.

"I choose hope."

But he has so much to live for.


His eyes snap open.

"Gotcha. Patch him up now."

He drifts back into the darkness again, through the din of voices and his own heart monitor.


"It was close, but he'll live."

She breathes a sigh of relief, that was all she needed to hear. Nothing else matters.


His hospital room is sterile and smelling strongly of antiseptic. Cold.

Settling into the uncomfortably hard chair next to his bed, she takes his hand. Beneath his thin hospital gown, she can see the stark white bandaging.

He's ghostly pale, and has a nasal cannula snaked around his face, but Demetri looks… normal. She isn't sure what she was expecting.

Sensing a need to do something, she takes his hand in hers.

"Hey, babe" his voice is soft and barely audible, but it startles her slightly.

"Dem?"

"I'm here."

"Dem, I thought…"

"Shhhhh, it's okay now. I'm okay."

They settle into a comfortable silence. She leans in and gently places her head onto his pillow, beside the crook of his neck, hands still intertwined tightly between them.

"Death is easy."

"But you fought."

"They'll continue to come after me, Zoey," he closes his eyes "but I have so much to live for."

"And you'll be fighting," she finishes for him.

Already feeling his strength fading, she presses her lips to his cheek. He needs rest, and they'd have all the time in the world to talk later.

"I choose hope," he whispers.


Note: So there, my first FlashForward fic. This series needs more fanfiction.