A/N: Gosh, I'm so sorry that it took me this long to update! (winces) There were… certain things about this story that I STRUGGLED to decide, and thus the story was stuck for a moment. (pouts) But now we're back in business! (grins)
THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for you reviews and affection towards this fic! It seriously means the world to me. (HUGS)
Awkay, because I've already kept you waiting for too long… Let's go! I really hope that this turns out worth the wait.
The Edge of Winter
The hallway outside the mortuary was empty and hollow, reeked of death and goodbyes. The woman waiting there swallowed down a touch of nausea. There was no time for over-sentimentality. Not now.
She looked up at the sounds of steps to see a woman of her age with long, neatly tied black hair and sharp blue eyes. One half of the woman's face was covered in scars. She was coroner Daria Ebbings, a less known member of the Moriarty web. A nice asset when it came to cleaning up certain messes. "I understood that you came to see a body." A thick Irish accent, right there. "Are you a relative?"
"Yes, you could say that." With all the experience she'd gotten lately the lie came to JJ easily. It wasn't much of a challenge to coax a touch of sadness into her voice. "I'm Eveleen Moriarty."
The coroner nodded, her expression unchanged. There was, however, a touch of recognition in her eyes. A spark of delight. "Follow me, then."
The body she'd come to see wasn't even covered. Clearly the coroner had just started processing it. They stood there staring at it in silence for the longest time, deep in thought. JJ looked at the corpse's face, a rather large part of her expecting those eyes to open once more. They didn't. Where someone might've seen a tragedy she saw hope.
Ivan Rimakov was truly gone. There were no more obstacles standing in her way. The game was on, now.
"Killed by a single bullet." Daria sounded… gloomy, almost. There were shadows on her face. "What a pity." The woman glanced towards her and for just a moment there was dangerous wonder. "I'm surprised that you're here, in person."
JJ did her best to maintain a poker face. "Sentiment", she stated, looking at Ivan's body for a one more second before beginning to leave. "Gets to us all."
"I see."
As she walked by JJ brushed Daria's hand. The motion was swift and skilled. The woman didn't notice a thing. If all would go according to the plan the coroner wouldn't realize what was happening until she'd fall dead in exactly twenty-six hours. "Not a word of this to anyone", JJ half growled, half purred. "Strictly discreet, remember?"
Daria shivered a bit under the touch. "Yes", the woman murmured. "Of course."
It wasn't a very long time ago the end of human lives shocked JJ. Now she didn't even glance over her shoulder to see the unsuspecting woman she was leaving for death. Instead she marched towards the elevator, her high heels clapping angrily against the hard floor. As she stepped into the box she froze for a moment, staring at her reflection. Not just the red hair and the changed eyes. But into those eyes, into the soul beneath.
She was a traitor. A murderer. An actress. But if the price of keeping her children and friends safe was her soul… Then that's what she'd pay. That's the decision she made when she met Mycroft on that fateful day, Spencer's blood from when she was forced to beat him up staining her skin. If she had to go to hell at least she'd do it for a good reason.
The doors closed, and Jennifer Jareau disappeared.
People were bustling through the hallway. Doctors and nurses fighting to save lives, people crying over the loss of a beloved. A cleaning up crew clattered its way into one room where death just visited to clean up the mess left behind. Because the stream of life wouldn't stop moving on although one human being had ceased to exist.
Mercifully enough David didn't notice any of that, nor did he register the pitying looks darted his way. He didn't know how long he'd already been standing there, staring and observing. As though his presence would've made any difference. As though he would've been able to awaken Aaron with the sheer power of his will.
He was entirely too aware of what the doctors said. He knew exactly how slim the chances of Aaron ever waking up were. And if he was brutally honest with himself he wasn't fully sure if it was reasonable to wish for the unit chief to come back from wherever he lingered. How much of Aaron even existed anymore?
He lost his son, by his very own bullet. It was either eternal slumber or a life in a world where that knowledge would be all the entirely too serious man knew. There'd be years – decades – of imprisonment and agony.
Was it cruel of David, then, to wish that…?
"Hey." Penelope's soft voice startled him. There were tears in the woman's eyes. Some of them spilled when she looked towards Aaron.
"Hey", David returned. He glanced towards the space behind her. "Where's Morgan?"
Penelope swallowed loudly. "He… said that he needed some air." The sound that came out could've been a gag or a sob. She wiped her eyes furiously but the moisture came back instantly. She cleared her throat. "So, how…? Has there been…?" She started both questions boldly but in the end they died onto her tongue.
Fortunately David heard, anyway. He inhaled, making a sullen discovery that it hurt. "No improvement." Seeing the flash of agony on her face he hurried to add. "But no setbacks, either. We'll just… have to wait, I guess."
Penelope nodded. Clearly needing the closeness too much to even wonder if she should ask for a permission she stepped closer and leaned her head against his shoulder. David didn't mind, either. It felt comforting to know that at least one member of their team was alive and well, right there beside him.
"Can I… wait with you?" It was so close to a plea that it stung him. Even without looking he knew that her eyes were just as desperate. "Because I don't want to be alone now."
"Of course."
And there they stood, both terrified of what was to come yet furiously attempting to remain firm and strong. Looking at Aaron David came to think that it looked almost like the man had been smiling. He couldn't help wondering just where his friend's mind wandered.
In Aaron's very own world none of the chaos, pain and destruction existed. Even though it was snowing it was as warm as on a beautiful summer day. Sun shone on the snowflakes, making them shimmer like diamonds.
The only sound he heard was Jack's laughter when he pushed his son's swing. "Higher, daddy! Higher!"
Aaron couldn't help chuckling at his son's excitement. His lips opened but before any words came out he sensed that they were being watched. He lifted his head with a degree of curiosity. A pulse of warmth spread right through him when he found Haley standing only steps away.
For a moment they just looked at each other, savouring the feeling. Then Haley melted into that beautiful smile he remembered so well that it hurt. "Hey", she whispered. "I've missed you."
The first thing that existed to the slowly awakening person was the warmth. While the rest of his body felt ice-cold his hand was comfortably warm. For a moment his still very much slumbering brain tried to come up with the reason. That was when he noticed the pressure.
Was someone… holding his hand?
His fingers twitched, stubbornly attempting to respond when something deep within began to recognize. He used up everything there was within him and pushed. In the end there seemed to be the slightest of twitches.
Well, at very least it was enough to earn a reaction. The pressure grew tighter, as though attempting to anchor him to the present. Slowly yet surely more of his coherence began to return. Eventually he was able to tear his eyes halfway open. After the immediate shock of blinding light he began to distinguish a figure. If it wasn't for something having been stuffed into his throat he would've smiled.
Sherlock appeared exhausted and entirely too tense but unharmed, which meant that he'd succeeded.
It took a while before he realized that the detective's lips were moving. He frowned, trying to comprehend the words. The only one he caught was his own name.
"John?"
Everything was muffled, almost muted. Wrong. Although John knew, on the level of reason, that there was nothing to worry about – that it was just the medication playing tricks on him – he could actually feel his heartbeat spike up. He squirmed, trying to make some sense into things. His hand fumbled towards the bloody annoying thing stuck in his throat.
He was conscious and breathing just fine on his own, he most certainly didn't need to be intubated any longer!
All struggles paused when John noticed something very, very alarming. He froze entirely, just like he did once upon a time when a bullet tore through his shoulder. His eyes widened and whatever warmth he'd managed to experience a while back faded away entirely. He could actually hear Sherlock calling out to him now but it hardly registered. All that really sunk in was what he couldn't…
John's hand shook when he laid it to where he assumed his legs were, resting underneath the bedcovers. At first he pushed gently, then fiercely, desperately. But hard as he tried the result was the same.
He couldn't feel his legs.
There were days when Dr. Andrew Arlington understood, entirely too well, why his father burst into a laughter when he announced that he'd become a doctor, just like his father and grandfather were. Today was one of them. Watching the life of a man who hadn't even turned thirty-five slip away right before his eyes was one of those about a million things that'd haunt him until the day he'd inhale his last breath.
Dr. Spencer Reid had fought a brave, hard battle but it appeared that the man was losing.
Andrew sighed, his eyes turning towards the clock on the room's wall. The words tasted bitter on his tongue. "Time of death…"
"Andrew." One of his most trusted nurses, Rita Towers, stared at the patient's vitals with wide blue eyes. She appeared dangerously pale behind her mask.
Andrew looked as well. His eyes grew to a comical extend. "Holy…!"
There was a pulse, a beat. Frail at best and entirely too unsteady, but stubbornly present. It was impossible to tell what, exactly, had pulled Spencer back for a one more time. But somehow the agent had managed to steal a few more moments.
Because, sadly, that's exactly what it was.
Andrew exchanged looks with his team. Usually they would've been overjoyed by the fact that the patient hadn't been lost, after all. But they all knew the facts.
Spencer's heart had already been put through far too much and it wouldn't last much longer. There was also some internal bleeding that Andrew didn't think any surgeon would've been able to get their hands on without dire consequences. It was a cruel choice, really – to kill a patient with not helping or with helping. Andrew, with a heavy heart and knowing entirely too well that the decision would weight on him forever, came to a conclusion that he'd put this poor man through enough.
The sigh Andrew gave shuddered with suppressed emotions. "Well, I'm closing him up. Then we'll give him a good amount of pain medication and see if we can wake him up for a while. Maybe he'll get the chance to say goodbye."
There was unhidden sorrow in Rita's eyes. She blinked just a little bit too rapidly. "Do you want me to tell his friends?"
Andrew shook his head. "No." He looked towards the sedated man's face. There was a frown, almost like… "I'll do it myself." I'm sorry, kid. I'm really sorry.
The operation was finished in a sombre silence, with Andrew trying to prepare himself for the inevitable. None of them was able to stop listening to the sounds of the heart monitor. They couldn't help wondering how many beats there were left.
TBC
A/N: Okay… (sighs and blinks rapidly) That… was quite heavy, and it isn't helping that there's a VERY sad tv-program on the background while I'm finishing the process of proofreading. The poor team! Poor… everyone!
PLEASE, do leave a note to let me know your thoughts! I have a feeling that there might be some after a chapter like this…
I've really gotta start to head towards the bed. (yawns) Until next time, you all! I REALLY hope that you'll stay tuned for that one.
ONLY TWO MORE TO GO!
Take care!
