Elizabeth: Ghost

It all happened so fast.

The pain, God, the pain; voices yelling, orders flying; Tom, anxious and edgy.

Her emotions felt like silky ribbons, sliding through her hands with no control at all.

And then, tiny fingers, sweet face, big blue eyes, already full of trust.

That's the confirmation she needs — as much as it hurts, the betrayal that it is, it's the way to safety, for all of them.

The drugs hit slowly, then gain momentum. At least her last words are of love; her last sensations his hand gripping hers, warm and strong.

I see you falling
How long to go
Before you hit the ground

She floats, alone in nowhere space, not real; she doesn't feel real.

If she concentrates, there are voices, but they don't seem to matter enough to try and discern their words. There are brief, fleeting sensations of warmth, touch, on her hands and face.

Is she dreaming? She can't tell. There should be something tangible…seconds pass, or minutes, or an eternity.

Then, then there is a glint, a flash of light.

She moves toward it, heart pounding — a way back…

Then there's sunlight, blue sky, salty air; the ocean. And Reddington, Red…Raymond. She softens, watching him stare blindly at the horizon. She says his name, reaching.

But he won't answer, all his words for someone else, invisible to her. He speaks and moves and acts just like she does, like he is lost in a dream. Why won't he answer?

You keep on screaming
Don't you see me here
Am I a ghost to you

The weight of his insensible grief pulls at her, keeps her close. The sight of him weakens her, his drawn and haggard face, his customary spark disappeared, lost.

She could never have imagined this deep well of feeling inside him, for her, at all.

He moves and speaks like a man emptied of purpose, of reason, of love. She cannot reach him; she's lost here with him, alone.

So she pulls away, hard, harder than almost anything she has ever done. She seeks another, seeks love.

Now your grip's too strong
Can't catch love with a net or a gun

And there, like a wish, a thought, a heartbeat — there she is. Small and perfect, quiet and serious, watching. She thinks the baby can see her, the little fists waving as if in greeting, light shining from the tiny face.

Already grown, noticeably different; she hovers, wistful, shaken with longing.

But where is Tom? Why is no one here with her, in this cold and sterile room? She stays, as long as she can, adoring and comforting as she can.

Finally, it fades away — Tom never does appear, but the pull is back, strong and fierce, and she can't resist it.

She would weep, if she could.

Why are you phoning
What am I to do
When you're miles away

Frustrated, she screams and rails at his impassive face; receives not a flicker in return. He has become a blank slate, an empty, shuttered house.

Only the set of his shoulders and the vast, lonely pools of his eyes give away his continuing torment.

He stands over her would-be grave; it chills and saddens and makes her afraid, all over again. His face changes, as he stands there, as if the sight of the new earth and the cold stone have given him back a measure of life.

When he finally acts, seeking — what? Vengeance? Revenge? Maybe just any kind of feel at all — she wishes again that he didn't draw her as he does.

Wishes that she didn't have to watch the little pieces of him tear free and disappear around her.

You're always calling
From the darkest moods
And we're both scared

Then, everything changes.

Then, she's pulled in his wake as everything he is drives him…to her.

To stand over her own body, herself, silent and alone, waiting and strange.

Gotta keep faith that your path will change
Gotta keep faith that your love will change
Tomorrow
I'm just out of your range
Tomorrow
All your suffering's in vain
Tomorrow.

A/N: *lyrics from "Tomorrow" by James. The music doesn't fit as well as the lyrics, but part of it was the inspiration for this story.