A/N: HUGE thanks to Otie for her help with this chapter, She's a good'un ;)
Hope you are all well and enjoy this. It was a tough one to write although I knew what I was trying to get across… let me know what you think xxx
It seemed like a strange thing to be looking at; herself.
She lay there looking frail and vulnerable, wires stretching out of her arms and a tube down her throat. It struck her as peculiar that she couldn't feel it in the form she now assumed. Her hand found her throat, feeling for any indication of the plastic but there was none. Her neck was as soft and smooth as it always had been. She looked so small, something else she found odd. She had never considered herself to be small, in fact, being slightly taller than average had given her a complex for most of her life.
Greg sat by her side, the embodiment of a grieving partner. His hand grasped hers as though he was afraid to let it go, his fingers laced around hers, his thumb tracing circles on top of her hand. She held the hand up to her face, the warmth she felt around it was somewhat comforting. She still had some tiny link to her earthly body apparently and on the bed her fingers twitched as though in agreement.
Greg startled at the movement and Sara realised just how much he was going through right now. He looked devastated. This wasn't a complete shock to Sara of course, she and Greg had never been romantically involved but that didn't mean they didn't share a strong emotional connection. He would be lost without his best friend, his sidekick, his confidante, his soul mate.
That was a foreign concept to her; considering herself Greg's soul mate but she accepted that it was an accurate description. She had slowly come to realise that soul mates weren't always someone's husband or wife. Sometimes people were lucky enough to find their soul mate in the form of their best friend. Greg had been a constant in her life for a long time. He had listened to her troubles, teased her about her misguided conquests and shared one too many beers on lonely Friday nights.
By his side she uttered a quite thank you. There was so much she could say to him, so many things she needed to thank him for.
The second the sound left her lips, Greg shivered, like someone had run a finger down his spine. She wondered momentarily if those chills had been a sign of the afterlife all along, a message of love and gratitude from beyond the grave.
She had felt that same sensation many times but she could think of only one person who would want to spend a moment of their afterlife whispering in her ear, and even then she couldn't be certain they actually would.
Her attention turned to the bed. She had been shot, she knew this to be fact and yet she was stuck by the apparent peacefulness of her body. There were no obvious injuries, no blood smeared sheets, no trauma to speak of. She lay there with the sheets carefully smoothed over her, her eyes gently closed and her hands arranged carefully on her abdomen.
She had been posed.
She was sure if she looked closely enough she could spot a smear of lip gloss shining on her mouth. It was a tool of the doctors, when they knew there was little hope. They made the body appear as calm as possible to make the situation less traumatic for the loved ones. It was incredibly frustrating as a criminalist to find a body this way, stripped of all evidence.
It wouldn't work for Greg, he was a professional and he had seen exactly what happened to bodies when they finally turned the machines off. That could be why she could sense so much reluctance in him, he didn't want to be responsible for letting her waste away.
A doctor came shuffling into the room, his eyes shifty and nervous as he avoided eye contact with Greg. He looked too young to be doing this job, he still had hope and freshness in his eyes, it hadn't worn him down yet. It was painfully obvious he was not experienced at it; Sara could sense his nerves filling the room as he clutched his clipboard and tucked a strand of sandy coloured hair behind his ear. He hastily took the chair opposite Greg and surveyed the scene before him. A long silence descended between them, Greg kept his eyes trained on her unconscious form almost as though he was waiting for her to break the silence.
"I know why you're here" Greg finally muttered sounding exhausted already.
"I uhh… I'm here to get your consent" The doctor confirmed as Greg nodded sadly "Then I need to take her away for the harvest"
Harvest.
It was such a poor choice of word. So clinical and unfeeling she didn't blame Greg for the hurt and sorrow that flashed in his eyes. She could feel rage building up in him; in fact she could feel everything he was feeling. The feeling of loss filled up inside of her like a black hole taking her breath away.
The door was darkened by the bodies of more people. Morgan rested a gentle reassuring hand on Greg's shoulder as Nick crouched by his side. Brass stood staunch and supportive in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest but an expression of sorrow on his features despite his aggressive stance.
The sheer volume of emotions she could feel was almost painful, it filled her body and her mind until she was fit to burst. She could feel Greg's hurt like a dagger through her heart, Morgan's concern as it weighed on her shoulders, Nick's grief like a shadow and Brass' rage like a fire. She felt it all like it was her own. She almost longed for the silence she had found in limbo.
She wanted to help them, to tell them that she was ok and they didn't have to worry about her anymore. She wanted to whisper in each one of their ears to tell them how much they meant to her. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs that it was time to let go. She wanted to tell Greg that he didn't have to be afraid and that she loved him.
The intensity of emotions she felt seemed to suffocate her, she couldn't breathe let alone speak. It felt like she was being torn internally limb from limb and spun in circles all at once until she was screaming for it to stop.
All of a sudden she felt heat all over her body and a strange tingling sensation crawled over her skin. She couldn't see anyone anymore, despite her best efforts to open her eyes she seemed to have no control over them. Her throat was filled with an unforgiving plastic tube that made her gag and choke which apparently started a flurry of activity in the room around her.
Alarms sounded, footsteps came rushing towards her and Greg's grip on her hand tightened in desperation. At this point she realised that she had returned to her body. People were ushered out of the room although Greg remained firm and unwavering as he grasped her hand like a lifeline.
"Sara? Can you hear me Sara?" The voice was commanding and stern, this was a consultant with power and responsibility. She could tell.
A light was flashed in her eyes as she tried desperately to respond. Her body was still detached from her somehow, she couldn't seem to forge the bond she needed to be able to control it and she realised suddenly that she wasn't sure she wanted to.
There were many reasons for her to return, many unspoken confessions and unfulfilled dreams but at the same time she had an insatiable curiosity for the unknown. That same curiosity had fuelled her for many years and she was finally beginning to get the answers she had craved, she wasn't sure she could turn her back on that right now.
Soon silence filled her ears again, only this time instead of bright whiteness she could see only black. Instead of weightlessness she could feel every scratch, ache and twinge in her tired, broken body. Instead of the clarity of mind she had enjoyed previously her thoughts were hazy and unconnected, almost as though she was thinking through a veil of fog.
Greg's voice was the only thing she could attach to. The only thing that penetrated both her conscious and unconscious mind and coincidentally the only thing she actually wanted to hear at that time.
"I don't know if you can hear me, they keep telling me you're not here anymore so I guess you probably can't" This simple confession made him take a gasping breath to calm himself and Sara found herself wishing she could wrap him in her arms and reassure him. "They always make this seem so easy on TV, I thought I'd have a million things to say to you but I can't think of anything…but I do know I don't want you to go. I need you Sara, I need you to smile at me in the mornings and tease me for my hair…I need you to eat all my ice cream and make me buy wine I don't drink…"
The memories flooded in like a tornado, spinning her in circles. She could remember laughing with him; the joyous feeling built from her stomach and filled her consciousness with happiness. They laughed a lot, about everything and about nothing. He was one of the only people who could make her laugh even when tears were falling from her eyes, he could make them shatter like glass with a few words or a well delivered story.
"I wish I could bring you back, I should have protected you and now…you're gone… I let you down"
Greg's tears fell freely now and she willed herself to squeeze his hand or call out to him but she could do nothing but lie there and listen to the guttural sobs that escaped through his lips. It was a horrible feeling, being so incredibly helpless when the person you loved was in such desperate need. With one almighty effort she heaved herself upright and was freed from her body once more.
Sara immediately swept to his side, her arm wrapping around his shoulders for comfort although it did little. He had no idea she was there; at least she assumed he didn't. She shrugged off the way the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and the way he paused for a fraction of a second to scan the room. She shrugged it all off because that's what he did and if he couldn't cope with his instincts right now then she had to let him deal with it in the way he wanted.
Morgan came back into the room, her eyes wide with concern. She couldn't feel their emotions like before but it was clear she cared a great deal for Greg. She crouched to the ground and wrapped her arm around him in much the same way Sara had, for a second their bodies assumed the exact same space and when Greg's hand reached out to Morgan's arm Sara could feel his fingertips on her skin like it was happening to her.
The moment stole her breath with overwhelming power, she would miss all this. Never again would she feel the touch of another person, never would she comfort someone or look into their eyes. He had gifted her with a precious moment, a final touch goodbye and he had no idea he had done it.
Greg wasn't ready to let her go but Sara was ready to leave. With a wistful sigh she placed her lips on his forehead and whispered her goodbyes into the air. She didn't need to leave him with any wisdom, he had so much love in his heart that he was wiser than she could ever have claimed to be, and instead she whispered an endearment she knew he would cherish. She whispered her love for him.