A/N: Please Review!!!! It's the only reason I'm continuing. LLS was my muse to start with, but with such a lack of her work out there right now, it's all reviews that keep me going. I was completely uninspired when I started this chapter, but halfway through the fun-ness started to return. I want to do more soon. Reviews help more than you can imagine. Thanks


Lexa couldn't bring herself to enter the small apartment any farther. Her natural fear of small spaces seemed to meld with the insurmountable amounts of tension that seemed to be radiating from her teammates, and this was enough to make her want to either run for her life or become a sobbing pile of nerves. She just hadn't decided which one yet.

The curtains were shut. The only light that eliminated the room escaped through the thin stitching of the blue material that hung from the handmade wire contraption that served as a curtain rod. The already eerily dark room now had a violet blue tint. Lexa couldn't help but think that this made the room resemble a tomb, rather than a place meant for a living breathing person. The only part of the body she could see was a silent, unmoving right hand. It was just simply hanging there, almost mockingly, over the edge of the tub. The fingers seemed to have an unnatural hue. Lexa figured most of it was due to the navy glow in the room, but there was also an obvious discoloring that couldn't be directly linked to the diffused sunlight. Maybe this was, after all… a tomb.

She couldn't see the face. Not from where she was standing, she felt lucky that the shower curtain had spared her that one detail. But the rigid ness of everyone else's position told her that they could. She couldn't quite make out Shalimars face, but the tremors that continued to rack the blonds small frame where an undeniable sign of the tears that streaked down from her eyes. No noise escaped the ferals throat, but even from the door, Lexa couldn't deny the despair that her teammates felt when faced with this girl. Yet Again. In some way she was envious of the amount of sadness and emotion that Emma seemed to inspire when it came to her teammates. More particularly Shalimar and Jesse.

Shalimar was on her knees. One hand was bearing her weight as she leaned forward and gripped the edge of the tub. The other covered her mouth as she struggled to continue breathing in a regular pattern. No one had moved in a really long time. Brennan stood both motionless and emotionless near the side of the room. Adam stood just a little in front of him and to the right. He hadn't said anything since the confrontation between him and his teammates before they had left sanctuary. Now he just seemed lost in thought, and creepily unmoved by the view in front of him. Jesse had long since turned away from the sight of his friend lying limp in a tub. His back was turned to the room and his hands rested on his hips. Every few seconds he would risk a glance back at the girl he recalled being so scared the first time he met her. He couldn't help replaying that moment in his head and compare it to the moment of her supposed "death." Even as what they all believed to be her last moments where upon her, her fear seemed to disappear. Emma hadn't seemed really scared in a long time. Not that day, and not for a great while before hand. She had seemed more calm. More in touch with herself. Now knowing the truth, everything pulled together tightly into a picture that they had all been oblivious to. And he hated his naivety to what was going on around him. Maybe if he had paid more attention he would have seen through Adams walls and been able to help find a way to save his friend.

Adam wasn't sure how long they had been by Emmas side, but every second seemed to stretch unbelievably long. Adam could feel himself getting older as he stood there. And with the slow trickle of time and his racing internal clock, he continued to rage in an inner battle he never wanted to fight in the first place.

Adam had always thought of his team as the children he never got the chance to have. Emma, in particular, had served as a dream daughter. She was already full grown when he first met her, but something within her allowed him to believe that she was much younger than she was. She had an innocence and sweetness that wasn't readily available in most women her age. Shalimar was far past that stage when she entered into his life. He loved her just as much as Emma, but he felt that he got a chance to see more of Emma's soul than he ever got to see of Shalimar's. Now looking at Emma, whose skin color was eerily close to the tint of the white porcelain basin that she laid motionless in… he wanted to cry. Not because he thought she was dead. He was basically sure she wasn't. But standing there… he found himself wishing that she was.

And that was what tore him in two. He wanted nothing more in this world than he wanted to save Emma's life. He even felt like it was his job. His responsibility. But during the entire trip it took to get there, he found himself hoping beyond hope that, for his teammate's sake, Emma had passed on. He loved her more than he could ever express, and it killed him to admit it. But. He knew. In the end, that if she were gone, his team would benefit. They wouldn't be faced with the pain all over again. The pain of watching her die. Again.

All this waiting was getting to him. He prayed silently, beyond hope, for Emma's peace, but he was already walking a thin line when it came to the four people under his command. He didn't want to assume anything. Much less that a former teammate had passed on. He needed desperately to know if her struggle was over. Maybe for his own peace. He didn't want to push Shalimar, but he wasn't sure his heart could take the waiting and silence for another second.

Before Adam got the chance to say or do anything, Shalimar finally moved. She reached out with an ever hesitant right hand. Just inches before her fingers touched the pale skin of the girl in front of her, she stopped. Even Lexa, who was a good twenty feet away could see Shalimar's hand shaking as she tried to bring herself to make contact with her once trusted friend. Shalimar closed her eyes. A few more tears leaked out as she tried to steady her hand and force herself past the fear that held her back. She couldn't believe it was Emma. Emma was right there. Emma was inches away. Or was she. What if she reached out and her fingers never did find contact? She had many dreams where she felt like Emma was present. But she never was. What if she reached out…. And her hand just kept going? How could she deal with this loss? Yet again? Emma?

With a small sob, she forced her hand forwards. And came in contact with. Skin. Auhumh. Shalimars body jolted with a sob as she realized that this was no dream. She opened her eyes and watched as her fingers stroked Emma's cheek. It was still warm.

"Oh, God," she cried. She need not force her hand this time.

Shalimar nearly leaped forward as she reached for Emma's neck and searched for the point she knew might hold their salvations. Her next few breaths where quick and exaggerated and she felt for the pulse that she preyed for.

"Please…"

"Emma?" Shalimar didn't seem notice the elevated octave that her voice took on without her knowledge. But, everyone else did.

Jesse was the first to react.

Shalimar had quickly moved her right arm so it cradled Emma's right shoulder and then wrapped it around her body. "Get her out of the tub!" "Please get her out!"

Shalimar already had Emma's torso out of the basin by the time Jesse was at her side to help with the weight. Shalimar had reacted almost if she could remove Emma from the tub, she could remove her from the current situation. Almost as if she where drowning. She had no idea how close she was to knowing the truth.

Adam closed his eyes as he felt both Jesse and Shalimar rush past him. Jesse was carrying a lifeless Emma towards the helix as Shalimar sprinted ahead to get the plane ready. Lexa turned and walked after them. Then Brennan.

The last out of the apartment, Adam turned and glanced inside. He knew they were going to need explanations. Those he could give. It was the hope that was going to be a problem.