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A/N- Sequel to 'While You Were' (One-shot)

Disclaimer: I own no one!

A/n- Deals with suicide!

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Dave Bautista closed his eyes as he stared at the closed door. Ever since her miscarriage, she had kept to herself, barely speaking, barely eating. He was lost. What should he do about his heart-sick wife?

"Li?" he called, gently knocking on the door. She didn't respond. He reached out and touched the knob. Jerking his hand back, he began to wonder if entering the room was the right thing to do.

While he had been in a career-defining match, she had suffered an early miscarriage. She had nearly died, due to blood loss. She had recovered... physically. Emotionally, she was lost. All she wanted to do was cry. It took coercion to get her to eat.

Dave was lost.

Against his better judgement, he reached out and opened the door. It took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the poor lighting. Slowly, he moved towards the bed.

"Li?" he called softly. She didn't stir. He reached out and touched her. She seemed stiff, despite the fact her skin was warm to the touch. "LI?" His voice grew louder. Gently, he shook her. Gasping, a horrible realization came to mind.

Could she be dead? Why would she be dead? What was going on?

Glancing around the room, his eyes fell on a small white envelope. He had to hold back the desire to pick up the envelope, open it, read her final words. He had to get help.

Police came within seconds. Dave was directed towards the living room. It drove him mad and incited a fury never seen before.

"Damn!" he screamed, punching the wall. The plaster crumbled, leaving a hole. "Why, Lisa, why?"

Dave couldn't believe how stupid he had been. Why hadn't he seen the signs that she was contemplating suicide? Why had he pretended she was alright? Had that caused her untimely death?

"Sir," a police officer said. "Did your wife have any reason to commit suicide?"

"She had a miscarriage about two months ago. She hadn't recovered from it," he explained, the words rolling off his tongue. As easily as his words came, they still sounded foreign.

Soon, Dave was left alone in the house he had shared with his wife. That was all it was, a house. It hadn't been a home since they had lost the baby. A home was a place of love and laughter. Their house had been full of pain and sorrow.

Questions haunted his pain-ravaged mind. Why had she done it? Could he have prevented it? Then, there was the most important question.

Could he survive without his beloved by his side?

Survive, he did. Each day was a struggle for meaningful life. He barely survived. Some days, he considered joining her. After all, Heaven couldn't be as bad as the pain he felt on Earth.

When he thought he had finally found the courage to live, he recieved a copy of her suicide note.

It read:

5/23/05

Dear Dave,

You are probably confused as to why I decided to take my life. You are probably lost in sorrow. Don't be.

Our baby needs someone up there. She's all alone. You've had me so long. I need to be with her forever. We can be a family when you join us someday.

I love you.

-Lisa

Her note was short. It was simple. It tore Dave's heart out of his chest. He hadn't realized how ill his wife was.

Why? What had he done to deserve this?

He ran into the bathroom and ripped open the medicine chest. His eyes fell on a bottle of prescription Sleeping Pills. He opened the bottle and forced the pills down his throat.

Within an hour, the pills were beginning to take effect. Dave grew woozy. As the pills led him into an eternal slumber, one thought crossed his mind.

See you soon, Li. I'm going home

THE END