Michael Marchetti looked at Jaime, and his heart flooded with regret. He had never spoken of this to anyone, but he'd never really stopped loving her. Hell, he'd come extremely close to willingly forfeiting his physician's license to be with her. Instead, he'd accepted Rudy's offer of a transfer and he'd been sorry he had made that choice every single day since then. There had never been another woman who'd touched that part of him; before or after Jaime.
He looked at Steve, who stood with his back to the group to try and hide his emotions. Michael knew that Steve felt he had tried to steal Jaime away from him when she had developed amnesia. Thus, the doctor and the former astronaut had never become friends. The real truth was that Michael had tried hard to trigger Jaime's memories and feelings for Steve before he'd ever opened his own heart to her.
Michael looked at Oscar with gratitude. They barely knew each other, but Oscar had been the one who'd felt Michael had a place in this room at this time and had called to break the news.
Steve Austin stood at the window, not really looking at anything but unwilling to look at the other three men from Jaime's life and unable to look at her without breaking down completely. She was no longer his, but his heart grieved for the 5-year-old he'd walked home from school, the freshman he'd taken to his senior class formal and for the woman he'd changed into someone she'd never wanted to be when he convinced Oscar to make her bionic. Most of all, he was dying inside for the world's loss of the only woman he had ever truly loved.
He had seen Oscar standing right beside Jaime's bed, holding her hand, tears forming in his eyes that the OSI chief was too proud to let fall here. Steve wished he had it in him to walk over and comfort his former close friend and boss, but this was Jaime they were grieving: his Jaime.
Steve knew that if Jaime had stayed with him, she wouldn't be where she was right now - on her deathbed. She had been in Oscar's office, straightening some of his files while he was at a meeting down the hall, when her bionic ear had picked up the 'inaudible' sound of the bomb intended for Oscar. She'd picked it up and taken it to the window, intending to throw it far enough away to be no danger to anyone. Oscar came through the door at exactly that moment and Jaime turned to warn him to leave, setting the bomb (just for an instant) on the windowsill. At the very same moment the bomb performed its horrific work and Jaime's fate was sealed.
Steve wished with his entire soul that he had at least tried to win her back when her attentions turned to Oscar. He had probably been the last one to notice the sparks between them. In his mind, he still had a vivid picture of the day he'd gone to the OSI building to tell his old friend that he was about to ask Jaime to marry him, only to find his lover in Oscar's arms, kissing as though it were a sport in which they were trying to win a trophy.
He could've confronted them right there, and seeing her now with her life drained away, Steve wished he had. At that time though, when his heart had been shredded in a single split second, he just couldn't form the words. He had gone home, packed and been out of the house before she got there. No note, no goodbyes - just emptiness.
Steve turned around and faced the woman in the bed. Jaime, if I had the ability to go back and do it again, I'd definitely have fought for you, for us! I'm so very sorry; please forgive me.
Oscar Goldman stood by the side of the bed, holding Jaime's hand, wishing he could infuse into her his strength, and his very life. It had taken them years to recognize what they really had together. They'd pushed each other away, ignoring that precious spark, until it burst into a full-fledged flame that couldn't be ignored. Of course he deeply regretted the pain they'd caused Steve; but how could he regret , at this late stage of his life, finally achieving true, perfect love? The fact that their love had cost Jaime her life, though, shook him to the core. This, Oscar felt, was his punishment for betraying a friend; but could the fates be that cruel?
He and Jaime had fought what they both knew was happening for far too long. He'd take her hand or touch her arm as he saw her off on each new OSI assignment, and the contact sent shivers down both of their spines. But their first kiss (and it wasn't the one Steve saw) caught them both by surprise. Neither one had initiated it and neither fought it. It simply happened. Oscar knew Jaime still cared deeply about Steve. She'd have had to have been an awfully hard woman not to, after that many years. Once Oscar and Jaime's lips had met, though, and they fell into each other's arms, they both knew it was useless to try and fight destiny.
What was happening right now, though, felt too jarringly wrong to be destiny. Oscar knew the final ending was solely in his hands. The essence of the woman was already gone, and he knew there was no possibility she'd have wanted to spend even a few minutes in her current state. I know this is what you want, Jaime; but it is so damned hard. I will always love you. He marshalled all the inner strength he had left, kissed Jaime on the lips and turned to Rudy.
"Ok," he whispered, unwilling and barely able to speak the words, "I'm ready."
Rudy walked slowly to the respirator side of the bed, placing a comforting hand on Oscar's shoulder on the way. Their grudge was forgotten. The other men also moved to surround the bed and heads bowed low as Rudy's hand reached for the switch. The beep of the heart monitor was sooned silenced, and the four men looked up at each other with the understanding that life could be much shorter than anyone expected. They had been friends for a long time, thanks to this woman, and now, with her death, she had brought them all together one more time.
End