He watched the boat disappear into the fog before turning and following the trail out of the riverbed and over a hill. He walked through a field of green that soon faded to a black, Vulcan valley of jagged, sharp rock. The path cut safely through the landscape. The smell of sulfur burned at his nose and the rocks cut at his feet, but he kept on walking. He crested a hill and the sulfur on the air gave way to salt, and there was the sea, stretching out past the horizon. He walked down and there he was, on a peninsula, surrounding by the water.

He stared out into the abyss, thinking of the last time he saw the ocean, when he thought of it as the nothing calling him back. Looking out, he thought of it as time, and it ended here at the shore. All he knew to do was keep walking, and so he did, out into the surf, knee deep, waist deep, chest deep, chin deep, and then he was under, the water clear but he kept walking and it got darker and soon there was no light and then the water was gone and for a moment he feared he was back into the nothing.

Pam had never been much of a drinker. She'd occasionally have a few, sure, but rarely got drunk. For a few years it was because she was something of a permanent designated driver, but mostly it was because she didn't enjoy the feeling of being drunk. Getting there, sure, that was enjoyable, but being fully intoxicated, that was hardly fun.

She never used. The idea repulsed her more than most else.

She'd never been hurt, not like Jim. She looks down at his frame and wonders on what must be going on wherever he really is. He's there, before her, but not really, she thinks. He's really somewhere else, and through her tears she hopes he'll come back, wishes and would certainly sell her soul for him to come back.

She's never seen the nothing, doesn't even know what it is, but the mere thought he might not come back, no matter what truth the idea holds, the idea itself is a bit like looking into the abyss and her tears don't seem to be stopping anytime soon. She buries her face in his chest and let them come.

Then, there is a shift. The rhythm of his heart monitor changed just slightly. He breathed in very deeply, consciously.

When he groaned, the room was gone. When he opened his eyes, the hospital was gone. When he sat up, the world was gone. When he looked at her, the universe was gone. When he smiled, everything was good. When he leaned forward, everything was worth it. When their lips met, they were alone and content to never be anywhere else. When the kiss ended, the two of them inches apart, eyes not blinking so as not to miss, everything was obliterated, and she was fine with that.