OK, well I have failed to finish this story before Oscar and Natara's wedding day, unless you're a Now Airing-er, then I guess I didn't fail but whatever. Yes, I have changed my pen name to Sixteen Vanilla Beans. Don't ask why, I just think it rolls off the tongue. By the way, anything written like this is a dream, or a flashback. But you'll be able to tell which is which.

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Chapter 4

"Mal Fallon! Where is Mal Fallon?" Natara screamed through the hospital hallways. A timid nurse with her hair done in an odd square bun pointed to room 897. Natara quickly ran into the room without even hearing the nurse's shy voice telling her to wait in the hospital lounge. What Natara saw nearly wanted to make her cry, again. Mal was laying on the hospital bed, his shirt and tie that she just saw him in a few hours ago were torn and bloodied in a sad heap in the corner. Thick white bandages were wrapped around his chest. Déjà vu suddenly occurred to her and she remembered the same scene happening nearly two years ago right after the episode with Eric Mills on the roof of Alcatraz Island. Natara quickly ran to his unconscious form and kneeled with her knees on the floor since there was no chair in the room and clutched his hand as fresh tears slid down her cheeks.

"He was worried about you, y'know."

Natara looked up to find Blaise leaning against the door frame. The collar of her jacket was covered in blood- probably Mal's. Blaise's gaze filtered around the room and looked at Mal while touching the back of her neck.

"What do you mean?"

Blaise rolled her eyes, "I mean that he wasn't really thinking about the assignment that we were on. He was too distracted. I'm not blaming you Princess, just telling you. Look I have to go, I just wanted to make sure that he was all right," Blaise quickly looked at Mal and left like she was never really there.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Natara was anxious to get out of that hospital, but she stood there. For Mal's sake. It has been nearly five hours after Natara arrived at the hospital and Mal still hadn't regained consciousness. She had slept for about 15 minutes, twice, and only left to go the hospital lobby and get a small cinnamon bun from the hospital's café. The nurses and doctors had came in and asked her to leave, but she politely refused. She was bored and busied herself watching Mal's slow, rhythmic breathing, his chest falling and rising softly. Soon though, she had grown bored and fell asleep again. This time though, she had an odd dream.

Mal was standing over a grave. The grave was just freshly dug. Natara was standing next to him, but the grave was blurry. The only thing that was clear to her vision was Mal, and Mal alone. Great tears were sliding down his cheeks, and she wondered who the hell could've died to make him cry like that. She again tried to read the grave, but with no such luck. Mal bent down and traced the words engraved into the headstone, he was talking to the grave. Although, Natara could only hear the last few words, since he spoke in a whisper.

"... I never got to tell you that I love you."

Her curiosity piqued and she stepped up closer to the grave. She rested her hand on his shoulder and said:

"Who is it, Mal? Who died?" But he didn't hear her, and neither did he feel her hand on his shoulder. Slowly the squiggles on the grave formed into words and came into focus.

Natara Williams

FBI Agent

Beloved Daughter, Sister, and Friend
October 24, 1980- September 8th, 2012

Natara stepped back in shock, a gasp escaping her lips. No, It couldn't be true... she was right here!

"Mal! Mal! I'm right here! MAL!" She screamed, but again, he didn't hear her. Mal got up and began to walk away. Wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his coat. Not knowing what to do, she followed him. Soon they were at his apartment. She followed him inside. He grabbed his gun in his hand and felt the cold grip as if for the first time. She was confused until he put the tip to the side of his head.

"MAL! NO! PLEASE! Mal..."

It was no use, he took a deep breath and mumbled some words. The defining blast signaled the end of his life and she couldn't have done anything. Because she was dead. And so was he.

Natara woke up with a start like she was stung by a yellow jacket. She touched her cheeks and realized that she had been crying in her sleep. The dream was all to vivid, chilling her to the bone. Her breath came in quick gasps, like the oxygen was being sucked out of the room.

"Natara..." Mal breathed, watching her with worried eyes.

"Mal!" She got and hugged him hard. "You're alive! You didn't commit suicide."

"Nat, please... get off... me."

"Sorry!" She laid back in the chair and tried to regain her composure.

"Nat, what's wrong?" Mal grimaced in pain, "Are you OK? You were crying in your sleep..."

"You saw that, huh? It was nothing Mal, really."

"C'mon. I know you're not. You can be honest with me. I'm your best friend, right?"

"Right..." Natara hesitated before saying the words. "I had a dream that you committed suicide."

"What? Why the hell would I do that?"

Natara shrugged it off, trying to change the subject. "So, Blaise came by and told me that you were worried about me."

Mal knew what she was doing, changing the subject. But didn't pry about the dream. It wasn't his business anyway.

"She did?"

"Yep. Mal, look. I know this is too soon. I mean, Oscar just died. But honestly, I feel more sad about that dream than him dying. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love you."

Mal was actually quite shocked but beamed, the happiness overriding the dull throbbing pin in his chest.

"I love you too."

Finished! This was supposed to be longer, but I have school now, so yeah. There might be an epilogue later, who knows? Maybe if I have some time this week. Anyway, please review? :)