I love Being Human UK edition (the only true one in my head). I felt like they should have explained what happened after Annie went through the door. But they did not and so I pick up from there. I hope you enjoy. Please comment. xoxo

Going Home

The light was warm, and Annie could feel it. It had been some time since she could feel anything like water, fresh bed sheets, and warm socks. Feeling again was a miracle, a sacred one at that, and it frightened her. Annie was usually not afraid of anything. She had not always been like that, but that was before she had died, before Mitchell, George, and Nina. Right now she was frightened about what was through the door and after the light. Perhaps, it was heaven. Maybe, nothing. Just a vast emptiness. An eternal loneliness.

Eve could tell Annie was scared and began to cry. Without looking at the bundle of crumpled swaddling, Annie rocked the baby. "Ssshhh. There. There." Annie whispered, hoping to quite the baby, but as if trying to calm her fears as well. There was no turning back. She had gone through the fire and the big door. Now, she had to go through this one, the door she had avoided long ago.

The light was of pure white, blinding her. She held Eve tighter and nodded. It was time. She turned the latch and the door swung open. She couldn't see, but took a step of forward. What was she to lose? She smiled, ready for another adventure.

The white light was replaced by the beating of warmth. She had kept her eyes closed through the door, but now she opened them, one at a time. The light came from above and she had to shield her eyes. Still, she could not see. It took a while to get accustomed to the lighting. And when she did, she could not believe what she saw.

Before her, stood a house on the corner of Windsor Terrace and Henry Street. The paint was peeling off the lintels, making it look rather old and abandoned. One would suspect this except for the blinds and curtains shielding the windows provided the possibility that there where indeed inhabitants. Its color was between a pink and an orange. It covered the small house, with sporadic stains etching its way across its side, the white trimmings around the windows making it somewhat suitable for existence. This was home. No matter how it looked to a passerby, this was home.

Annie stood there, unbelieving. It was a while until someone behind her said, "Excuse me miss. Ya'r standin' in de middle of de road. Cars do pass here, ya know."

Annie just smiled dumbly at the tiny man in oversized overalls. Did he just spoke to me? She didn't doubt it but laughed. He must be a ghost. "It doesn't matter. I'm a ghost, too."

The man huffed and took another puff from his pipe. "As er'one here, miss." Annie still did not understand and she must have showed it for the man continued, "Ya'v gone through de door. Ya'r in, what we all like to call down in earth, Heaven." He had said his piece and went walking on his merry way.

Annie had little time to process it for the door to her home, swung open and George walked out. She could hear him swear. "Why do I always have to take out the funkin' trash? Mitchell never did." Tears trailed down her cheeks, as she ran towards him.

"George. George," she called out. She must have frightened him, for he squealed his high-pitch cry that sounded like it came from an eight year old girl. She laughed so hard and never knew how much she missed the most annoying thing in the world.

"Annie?!" George dropped the bag. "Is it really you?" He blinked hard, perhaps believing it was a mirage.

"Yes, George. It's me," the weight in her arms reminded her of Eve, "and your daughter, Eve. We've come home." She offered the baby.

"God, it took you two forever. We've been waiting." George took his daughter into his arms and kissed her head. "She's grown just a little." He kissed her again and again.

"Is it true everyone's here?" Annie could feel the knot in her stomach. Had Mitchell made it, too?

George did not look up. He was lost in his daughter's eyes. "Last I checked it was me, Nina, and Mitchell."

At the mention of Mitchell's name, Annie took in breath. He was here, inside. How long had it been since she'd seen him? Too long and she was growing unsure. Would they go back to being the same?

"Com'on. What a surprise we have for them," the old twinkle came on in George's blue eyes.

Nina had her back to them, for she was setting up the dinner table in the kitchen. She definitely heard the door for said, "I hope you're going to tell Mitchell to take it out next time, dear, instead of complaining about it."

George motioned Annie to keep quiet. He walked up to Nina. "I found this package on our doorstep. It looks like no wanted her."

At the mention of 'her', Nina turned around and George slipped their daughter into her arms. "Oh, my God," she giggled and then laughed at seeing Annie. "You're here… you're here." She turned to George. "I can't believe it. I cannot." She held her daughter closer to her chest, feeling her warmth through the clothes and poor swaddle. Nina reached out an arm and enclosed Annie. "I'm so glad you've finally come home."

Annie grinned and nodded and laughed. "It's so good to be back."

Nina looked at the three plates on the table. "I get to set up four, now. Oh, how I've missed that."

"But I can't eat," Annie said even though it was Nina's custom to set her a plate to feel a part of the dinner table.

Sensitive George took Annie's hand. "It's different here, Annie. You are seen and can touch. You can eat and feel."

Nina smiled at George, but did not look at Annie. She gave Eve back to her father and went to rearrange the table.

Annie looked about her. It was the same. The bookshelf stood to the right of the door with the board-games high on top, the films, records, and radio set occupying the rest of the shelves. The old, yellow lamp still stood on the low, mahogany drawers to the left. The peep window separating the entrance and the kitchen still overlooked the liquor collection and awkward, lopsided red lamp. Annie walked into the parlor. That old brown couch with mismatching cushions faced the coffee table, red chair, and Mitchell's small television set. Nothing had changed, except for her countless cups of tea lying about ready to perturb George. She smiled at the memory.

She walked towards the staircase leading upstairs. She turned and looked at George, wearing the question.

George understood, "He's upstairs. Go." It was a timid encouragement.

The climb took what seemed for years in Annie's mind. She walked them, one by one, with great effort. She was not sure what to expect. Somehow, her legs carried her to the empty room- the room in which a chair with red embroidery stood in the middle. The door was closed and she stood there staring at it and smiling. She recalled the time she had ran up there to hide away from the werewolf Tully and Mitchell had come in to comfort her. She had asked him a very important question and he was honest. In her gratefulness, she had wanted to kiss his cheek, but instead they had bumped into each other, almost kissing. Perhaps, this was the first time she knew they would become something special.

Annie turned the knob and opened the door.

Mitchell sat there on the chair- his legs crossed, reading a book. He wore his favorite red and white jacket, faded jeans, and cut-off gloves. He looked up from the book and at seeing Annie he jumped up. "Annie, it's so good to see you." He was the only one that did not doubt her being there. In excitement, he roughly embraced her, lifting her up from the ground. He squeezed her and she could feel him. It was different though. He brought her down, so he could look at her. His finger brushed her forearms. They felt warm.

"I… I… I can feel you and you're warm," Annie shook her head in disbelief.

He ignored what she said and instead leaned in to kiss her. Mitchell's lips where eager for hers. They glided over hers at first, as if he was afraid she would slip away and disappear. But when she did not, he pursed his against hers and until she responded. Soon enough, she did and with equal impatience and passion. He was warm and alive. She could feel his breath upon her, humid. It felt so good. It did not feel tingly or cold, as if she had come from just outside. No, it felt real.

"How I've missed you, Annie." His dark green eyes absorbed every inch of her. She just smiled, unbelievably happy and content. He kissed her again but on her forehead, like he used to do.

Annie had to touch him, and so she reached for his right cheek. The stubble felt good against her palm. She then touched his shoulder, so grateful it was attached to him. Then, she grazed his arm and took his hand in hers. He squeezed it. It was so warm.

"Mitchell, you're warm?" Annie had to know how and why.

He brought her hand to the place where his heart was. "Feel that?" Annie nodded, her eyes doubling in size. "My heart beats blood." His grin was wide.

"But… but how?" Annie drew herself closer to him, so she could absorb his warmth.

"In here, we are human."

Annie couldn't believe it. "Human? Nina? George? Me, too?"

Mitchell brushed the curly strand of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "Yes, Annie. They are… You too are human. No longer ghost. When I just kissed you, it was not like the first time- cold and tingly. Did you feel it?" Absentmindedly, he brushed his forefinger over her lips. She smiled against them.

"Yes. I can feel you," she laughed until her sides hurt and Mitchell joined her. He took her hand in his and led her down the stairs.

She was home. Her search was over. She was home, with all those she loved. This place was truly Heaven and they were all Human.