I'm back, all. This is looking like it's going to be the last chapter, unless I get a vision on how exactly to continue it. Where it ends just seemed like a good stopping point to me. If any of you have any ideas, I'm open. Very big thank you to those of you who reviewed—you're the ones who keep this story rolling.

Raven Silvers- Off course we had him take off. Can't have a story without Tom angst, right?

LotRseer3350- Just this last chapter, I'm afraid, unless I have a severe case of Eureka Syndrome, or someone (nudge nudge, wink wink) gives me an idea.

Return

I found Tom about 5 minutes later outside the back entrance to Dorian Gray's home, where we first met, so to speak. He was sitting against the wall with his head leaned back, his eyes closed, and his knees up. His hands were hanging over his knees at the wrist. It was the epitome of beleaguered-ness. If he had pinched the bridge of his nose it would have made the picture complete. Oh, look, there he did it. We had on our hands one very stressed out boy—man.

I sat down on the ground next to him, assuming basically the same position, but more relaxed. Dying does that to you. You seem to lose most of the worries that you had before.

I didn't speak, but let him start. "What's it like?" he asked.

I knew perfectly well what he was talking about, but I asked anyway. "What's what like?"

"Death."

I considered it for a moment before saying, "You would have to have some common experience on the topic for there to be any meaningful discussion on it."

For the first time he opened his eyes and stared at me. "Are you saying I'd have to die to know what death's like?" I nodded.;

I sensed that silence was going to overtake us again, so I decided to broach the subject we were both thinking of. "Tom, I don't blame you for my death. How could I?"

My outburst seemed to have broken down the walls holding him back. "How could you not blame me? If I hadn't been there, if I hadn't been stupid enough to get caught, you would never have had to die in the first place! The others, they can comfort me and be strong and wise, because they weren't there. They don't have to worry at all about being blamed, about knowing what they caused!" He drew another breath as if to continue but stopped himself. I talked during his silence.

"Tom, if you hadn't been there, we wouldn't have even made it to Venice. We'd have been dead in Gray's library. And getting caught, well, anyone could have made that mistake, I mean, how in hell are you going to tell the difference? The way they smell?" I paused to let him take it in. "Besides, would you have really wanted me to be the one to get Moriarty?" Tom sighed, and I knew I was almost there. "Tom, sometimes thing like that happen and they're beyond our control. I know I can't make you not blame yourself, but at least try. Be a man, learn from mistakes. This time, nothing was hurt; you came out lucky. Why blame yourself for this when there'll be other things like it in your life, I guarantee it, and sometimes it won't turn out good like they did now. I know you know what I'm talking about. You told us about your friend, you know how easy it is to lose everything. Don't prolong the agony any more than you have to by blaming yourself. When you do that, you forget to live, and in someone as young and full of vitality as yourself, it would be a horrible waste."

Tom blinked in surprise, and so did I. I looked at him, and realized that this whole experience was not just about me coming back to life, but both of us. For the first time in our entire meeting, there was some life in his eyes, a willingness to risk.

I stood up and offered my hand to him. He grabbed it and I pulled him up. We stood looking at each other for a moment. Suddenly, I remembered the Winchester in the hotel room. It's strange how whenever I think of Tom, I think, Winchester, and vice versa. "I still have the Winchester you left on my grave. You can have it back if you want it." I knew what I was hoping for, but promised myself not to be disappointed if I didn't get it.

I didn't have to worry. "No, keep it. I gave it to you for a reason. Here, we have time. We can go to your hotel and I'll help you grab your stuff to bring to the Nautilus." I smiled like a kid on Christmas morning. Finally, I was back with my family.

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;That, or the general gist of it, is from Star Trek IV: The Journey Home. By the way, does anyone know how to make astericks stick on this dumb thing?