"We're losing her!" The EMT called beginning CPR on the federal agent laying on the gurney. She had massive amounts of bleeding and a wooden stake sticking out of her stomach. "Clear?"

"Clear!"

Emily opened her eyes, she looked like she was in a blank room. No walls or ceiling though, completely open and cold. So very, very cold. She felt like she was frozen.

"Hello, Love." She whipped around. The very voice she'd hoped for.

"Ian! What— where are we?" She asked looking around again, she felt empty, hollow. Her body felt like it had no mass.

"We're in hell, Love."

She turned once more to look at him. She tilted her head for a moment before looking down at her shoes. "Well I guess it's true, what they say…" She trailed off, avoiding his gaze.

"What?" He asked walking closer to her.

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions…" She said looking up at him, with tears in her eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey… What are these?" He asked, wiping a tear away with his thumb. So gentle and soft, it was difficult to believe he'd just stabbed her to death.

"It's just— I only ever wanted the best for him." She said, finally looking at him. "And now… now he has nobody! and it's all my fault." She cried. "I just— it wasn't supposed to go this way. I—I promised him he would never be alone in this world, that I would never make him wonder…" She said, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve.

"Maybe he was better off with you…" she muttered bitterly.

"Hey, you were a good role model for him Emily, you always took to him like he was your own. You protected him, no one can fault you for that." Ian said quietly, as he placed his hands on her shoulders.

"You did."

Ian chuckled. "Yes, well I haven't always been known for having good judgment now have I?"

She sniffled, laughing. "Yeahhh, you always had a flair for the uhmm… dramatic."

They both laughed despite the gravity of the situation they were in.

Emily was the first to break the pause. "You know… I really did love you." She whispered, as though she didn't want anyone to hear.

"I know."

"You do?" She asked incredulously, sniffling again.

"Why else would you have kept my ring all these years?"

"How did you kn—"

"I broke into your safe in your apartment," he said nonchalantly.

"Oh, well that explains it…" She said nodding. "So this is hell? Just you and me? Not really what I expected…"

"No, Emily… not You and Me. Just me." He said, giving her a serious, saddened look.

"But, wait… what? I'm dead aren't I? I don't know much about the afterlife, Ian, but I'm pretty sure you can't change venues." She said rolling her eyes.

"This isn't the end for you Emily."

She looked at him, then quickly looked down at her chest.

"Whats that fuzzy feeling?" She asked patting herself down, it was a tickling vibration through out her body and it was unsettling.

"They're reviving you Emily. You aren't done. You have more people to help." Ian said stroking her hair.

"What about you?" She asked, confused. "Are you dead?"

"No. Not yet anyways…" He said dryly.

She bit her lip… "Will we ever see each other again?"

He nodded. "We'll always be with each other, Emily. We're soul mates, remember?"

She smiled. She told him that after the first time they'd made love.

"Take care of our son, Emily." Ian said, turning away from her.

"Wait!" She called. He kept walking, his figure slowly fading away.

"Je Taime," she whispered, watching his body fade into nothingness.

"I've got a pulse!" The EMT called.

Emily opened her eyes, all she felt was agonizing pain, she couldn't breathe, the tube in her throat felt like it was suffocating her.

She looked all around, she was lost, everything was chaos, but behind the EMT's head was Ian's ghost.

"Je Taime, mon Ange," and he was gone.