Clinging to the edge

Disclaimer: The WaT and their universe belong to other people.

Spoilers: Tiny ones for Midnight Sun and Maple Street.

A/N: First of all thanks to D for telling me that this doesn't suck and beta-ing. Then to Maple Street for just being so great.

It's as if someone turned down the volume on the world. That's the first thing that comes to mind. Everything is toned down and dimmed. Sounds float through the air, images are soft and fuzzy. It's peaceful, she likes it. She doesn't want to go back.

The demands of the world are ebbing away for the first time. Obligations and responsibilities fade, the call to duty ebbs away. Sensations fade. The cold night air, the wet, hard ground, the coppery smell of fresh blood.

The sky above is black, clouds are eclipsing the stars. The darkness is like a blanket over the ugliness of the back alley. She sees none of it anymore, doesn't even think of it anymore., Her mind wanders away from the cold, dark streets. Away from the surreal present, into the past. She revisits the happy times of the past. The little girl, laughing, playing in the sun. The colors are intense even in the distant memory. The girl is sitting on a blanket in the grass. The world is timeless and perfect. She doesn't know yet what is awaiting her. The world hasn't instilled fear and distrust in her yet. The little girl grows up and her smile fades. Every deception and disappointment takes it away a little bit at the time.

The girl now feels imprisoned in the world of adult rules, the small-mindedness of a little town. She can't breathe, can't be herself. She dreams of far away places, of the future. She doesn't know what lies in the future but knows that it will be better. Anything will be better than the prison of her home. The girl stares longingly out of the window, into the world. It's a cruel world, but she knows none of it. Not yet. The girl meets the world, anger is replaced by sadness, but also sometimes by love.

The world is complicated, but she's free to pursue her dreams. Some of them aren't what they appear to be. A marriage is formed and broken. Another lesson learned. The focus of the woman, who was once the little girl, shifts. She sets her sights on new goals. Hard work and sacrifice. But she's happy, she has found a place and a purpose. She doesn't like what she encounters every day, but it reminds her of her own good and bad times. Nothing stays steady for long, new people enter and exit her life, some leaving barely an impression, others deep imprints.

The excitement, the thrill of the forbidden, that's how it starts. The woman is adventurous, passionate. But it's more this time. Feelings are deeper. She already knows that first evening. They are both in high spirits, a case solved, the victim found alive and well. It's early, they decide to go have dinner together, It comes all naturally; it seems like the right thing to do. She hardly recalls the dinner, it's overshadowed by the memories of what happened after dinner. Somehow, they suddenly stand right in front of her apartment. Pausing, sharing a silent moment, knowing where the next step will take them. A brief flicker of doubt about the consequences, but it doesn't stand a chance.

A moment of decision undertaken in the midst of emotions, blind to the consequences. What she fears never happened; she doesn't lose her job over this. But the girl inside her loses her heart. The woman denies it as long as possible, she'll deny it until the end. She's nearly at the end now.

There are many nights, many happy memories, but the first one is special. It's the memory of a boundary being crossed. An act that cannot be undone.

It is late. They know that they have to part ways. He has a family to which he must return home. Both know, but neither dares to say it out loud. Neither wants to disturb the feeling left in their wake. He leaves wordlessly, because he has no need for words. They have a silent understanding that reaches farther than words ever can.

Their first night fades into the last morning. Familiar routine, no real feeling, professionalism. She never questions it; that's the way it works. Feelings have no place in this world. The case, another file, another photograph with a tragic story behind it. Hurt feelings, grief. So universal to her work but still, each case is unique. It has to be. You're not supposed to get used to this. Once you do, it's time to quit. He told her that once. When, she isn't so sure anymore. It doesn't matter now. She remembers, that's all that counts.

This time, the face staring from the photograph is a little boy. He smiles, unaware of the future, unaware of how it'll end. Too soon. It is always too soon. But he doesn't know and he smiles from the white board. Frustrated faces around the conference table. Tensions are running high. Accusations are flying through the air. Who made what mistake. Deep down they all felt guilty, she thinks now. Angry words cut through the air, destined to hurt. A call halts them, then they rush to action. Not all is lost; there is a thin ray of hope. Hope, that's what keeps all of them going. Not just they need the hope-- families, friends, lovers need it too. Hope keeps all those going who have nothing else. Is she still hoping?

For a quick moment, the flow of images pauses, fades a bit, the question pushing aside her memories. She isn't sure. But for the first time, it doesn't matter. The question loses importance and surrenders again to the memories. They are all that is left.

In the car, she isn't hoping; she's still angry. The angry words aren't spoken out loud anymore, but the silence is worse. The silence runs deep, both of them know the unspoken words. The anger and accusations mean more than the mere words would to the outsider. They hurt more and carry more intensity. The intensity of feelings. Of feelings which were once there, but even now cannot be smothered by words denying them. The little girl from the past has learned to keep her feelings hidden; she knows them to be dangerous and deceitful. Experience and reason have taught her well.

They eye each other carefully, both pretending not to feel anything anymore. She can still afford the luxury of denial. She doesn't know the future yet.

Still ignorant and silent, they leave the car. The air is cold, the smell of the rain lingering. She's still angry. She wouldn't be if she knew. Maybe, but maybe it would be all the same. The door opens. A tired face appears, fear etched on its features. A hand appears next to the face; the hand is holding a gun. The steel glints in the moonlight as time slows down. This is when she has a first glimpse of the future. That future had always been a possibility; she'd learned to live with it. But she's never gotten used to it. They all know it, but when it happens they'd all be surprised. No one think it'll ever happen to them.

A second face appears in the door, a manic grin spread over it's gaunt face. She's seen the face before, on a black and white security tape. The memory becomes sketchy. Pieces are missing, emotions become dominant.

Foreboding, as they are forced into the dim corridor. Forced into a small kitchen. She doesn't remember what it looked like. Another flash. Shock as a gunshot explodes, her ears ringing. Fear, she feels like she's falling very fast when she glances to her side, he's on the floor, not moving. The world equally halts it's movement, time comes to a standstill as regret wells up inside her. For a moment, past and present come together. The little girl inside her starts crying, knowing what's already lost and what she'll never get a chance to do. The woman wouldn't cry, she's angry, she wants to fight the futile fight. She wants to fight because as long as she acts, there's still hope. Everything else is lost. The woman wins, forcing the girl's feeling back into the dark corner of memory. She takes a desperate lunge, hoping to surprise the manic gunman while he's standing there, filled with glee, enjoying his triumph, his kill.

Pain, piercing screams, and rage. The floor swaying, being lifted up, unable to move. The body on the floor. Even after she's already been dragged through the dark hallway, the image remains vivid in front of her. It only fades once it's chased away by pain and blood loss.

The past is painful, the memories too hard to relive but impossible to ignore. They are all that is left, the past is all that she has. She clings to it, desperately; she's afraid to be lost in oblivion.

The present is floating, surreal; she's unable to get a lasting grip on it. There is the wet ground, her wet coat against her back. The cold air all around her. Darkness. For once she knows the future. The ignorance is lifted for the first time. Yet she still chooses to relive the past. To find out how she got to where she's now. She thought she'd have regrets, but she doesn't. Regrets are painful. She wants no more pain.

The future will be short-lived; she now knows how it'll end. That's the one piece of knowledge that will always elude man. They are all in it together... they're all ignorant.

She opens her eye, not expecting to see anything but dim shadows, but she can see the sky, a few stars through the opening in the clouds. The cold outside now invades her body, turning her numb. She isn't in any pain. It's beautiful. It's too early for her, too many things left unsaid, to many things undone, but it's too late. The sky becomes dim, the stars, the clouds and the shadows all fade away into blackness.

A last spark of fear. Panic. Darkness. Cold. Sudden noises in the distance. She wants none of it. She's afraid; she doesn't want to be around for the end. The only she thing wants in that moment is to return to the memories and never leave them again. She closes her eyes and everything disappears, the cold, the noises. Everything except the memories. Her wish is granted.