In the darkness, in the pitch black, she realised that she gave up; but, she could still feel, everything. People said death was either pitch black and nothing, nothing what so ever, or, a white light; heaven where angels lay and God awaited you. But, no one waited for her, no one on that side of life and death. But, on the other side, someone she loved waited for her, waited to see her one last time. They would follow her no matter the cost, and she couldn't tell them no.
. . .
"Becker, I know you lost her, but you have to stop trying to get yourself killed. Amelia wouldn't want you to do that, would she?" Jenny tried to reason, but failed miserably.
"I can't, I can't, Jenny. I–I lost her when I just found her. There's no way I can get her back here, so, I have to get her back there; no matter what. She died as a hero (A.N: Thanks for that one Sake-tan), she said it herself." Becker replied; empty, emotionless. Jenny just shook her head, washing her hands clean on that case. The rest of the team needed a consultant, too. She, also, was upset at the loss of Amelia, she held the team together, and she was the glue. At that moment, Abby entered the room, trying to hide her tears.
"Jenny, there's a problem with the anomaly detector. Come, please." Abby said while fighting back tears that threatened to overwhelm her. Jenny just nodded, not sure whether speaking could cause sobs to erupt. Following Abby mindlessly, she realised that she wasn't heading in the direction of the anomaly detector room; she was heading to Abby's office, the interrogating room, for Abby's use only.
"Abby?" Jenny spoke warily, unsure on what Abby's actions were. Abby carried on walking, ignoring Jenny's anxious but unanswered question. Stepping into Abby's office, Abby turned around and lost it. Bawling her eyes out, sobbing her heart out; for Amelia. The truth was, Abby liked Amelia, but she was annoyed that Amelia did not once acknowledge her.
"Oh, Jenny, I do miss her. I do, I–just–I–oh, god!" Abby stuttered, frustrated that she couldn't get a sentence right. Jenny did not expect that, in fact, she was surprised by Abby's outburst, thinking that Abby was going to shout at her, telling her to get over Amelia – for the teams sake.
"Abby–I–I well I didn't–expect that." Jenny stuttered over her words. Abby immediately stopped sobbing, and glared at Jenny.
"Fine, be like that." Abby said icily and stormed out of the room. Jenny sighed, a long and worn out sigh. Losing one of the team wiped it all out of her, left her wondering whether she would die next, if not her, then who. Sometimes, just sometimes, Jenny thought of leaving that all behind. The worry of death following her, the worry of dying and not being able to say goodbye to the ones she loved. Strolling in the empty corridor, a thought struck Jenny. If the team could go back in time, at the right time, that is, they could stop the gun ever being shot; they could stop the death of Amelia. But, if they did do that, they would have to do it inconspicuously, silently and go unnoticed. One little slip could change what was meant to be, but, saving Amelia could change the future as well. Jenny moaned, frustrated at the nagging little thoughts that were interrupting her peace of mind. Silence was rare at the A.R.C, it was irrelevant to the whole procedure, noise was needed to keep the team motivated, but the team couldn't deal with yet another death, Jenny thought. Shaking her head and adding another long worn out sigh, Jenny walked meaningfully to the anomaly detector room.
. . .
I know a song that get's on your nerves, get's on your nerves. I know a song that get's on your nerves all day long, no, that wasn't passing meaningless time at all, it just made it seem pass along slower. Like at school in the last on the last day of school, staring at the second hand, willing it to move quicker to the top, willing it to go quicker, but, as if torturing you, it seemed to go slower and slower. That was what was happening here.
Time was ignoring the pleas of begging and wails of protest, ticking in simple bliss, ignoring the black world floating into nothing around it. Simply blackness of pure nothing floated around the single person in the dark hell, the hell that was worse than the burning flames of living, God was not on that person's side, and God was torturing that person to insanity. Insanity was something that led to suicide, in most cases, Sergeant Salvae-Tal had said to that person once, before hell's bliss. Strange that one day your life was perfectly imperfect, and the next day, you're dead. Maybe, just maybe, I'm not dead, maybe this is all a nightmare and I'm going to wake up with the screaming and crying for your mother. But, it doesn't work like that, she felt the pain, heard the cries, heard her last breath; heard her last erratic heartbeat.
God was not on her side; God had a need for her ignorance for death. She had many years of life to come, if only others could find a way to find her, or, maybe she could find them, first.
. . .
Standing in the alley where Amelia was murdered, where he lost his world, Becker listened to the sirens of police cars and the screams of upset children. No one knew what loss meant, Becker knew, though, he felt it; still does, in fact. Not bothering to listen to the outside world anymore, he listened to his internal fight.
I should give up.
No, no, no, no! Think, Becker, think of Amelia!
I can't, though.
You can't lose yourself to this, please.
I will.
Please, do not do what you are thinking! The other inner voice was fading.
I will.
Please . . . Immediately, the other inner voice had all of Becker's attention.
Amelia?
Yes . . . The voice was barely a whisper, fading second by second.
I–no–you're gone, though.
Don't, Becker . . . The voice was fading even more, nearly gone.
No! Don't leave me again, Amelia.
I have to.
Please?
Be safe . . . And the voice left, not even a memory.
I will. With that, Becker sighed and left the alley, full of hope. Amelia was alive; he could feel it in his bones.
Please, please, please don't hate me. I've done my best, okay! It's hard trying to get a dead person back into a story! For Christ Sake! I was meant to leave it be as a single one page story, she's meant to be DEAD! Gone! FOREVER! But, in my heart I knew that Amelia couldn't stay dead, it was a much too sweet love between her and Becker, much too sweet.
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