The sudden flash of light and loud bang that echoed through the empty room brought Carlton back. Inhaling sharply, he noted that he was, in fact, still alive. His eyes adjusted to the light and he looked around in an attempt to reorient himself to his surroundings, waiting for the dark shadow to begin reprimanding him again. But the dark shadow was gone, as was his grandfather. The only other person in the room was O'Hara. And not dream O'Hara this time. Real O'Hara. She had come. She was there.

On the ground.

Bright blood pooling rapidly under her clavicle.

And for a moment, time stopped.

As did his heart.

He couldn't process it.

What have I done?

The voice stayed silent. The one time he needed him- needed someone, anyone, to tell him what to do, and the voice was finally gone.

He felt his nervous system shutting down, like a switch being flicked off. His mind had completely ejected from the rest of his body, his fingers and toes belonging to someone else. He tried to focus, tried to trace the connections down his limbs as he once had. It seemed like forever ago that the connections had felt solid enough to actually be used. And because of it, he had spent the better part of the last four months feeling like a completely useless log, only around to take up space in the corner of whatever room he had been placed in.

At least, usually. Up until five minutes ago, at least, the only person who had never made him feel that way had been his partner. She understood him. She wasn't expecting anything from him. He could just be. He had snapped at Juliet so many times since they had become partners, she had become used to rolling her eyes and moving on. And because of it, even as Carlton slowly wasted away in the hospital, she still came around, unwavered by his sporadic fits. Even as Carlton's mind was turning on him, rendering him a shell of the intelligent man he once was, Juliet stood by patiently, allowing him to struggle but refusing to let him do so on his own.

And it had gotten her killed.

Well, not yet, at least. He watched her chest rise and fall rapidly, just out of reach at his feet and realized not only had she really been there the whole time, but also that if it weren't for her being there at that exact moment, he would have just shot himself in the head. He would be the one bleeding out on the floor, instead of his partner. He felt a sharp stinging roll out of his heart, waking up his limbs and reconnecting them with his body. On both sides. It was distinctly muted on his left side, but he felt it. He felt his brain reconnecting with his toes, just barely strong enough to purposefully move his heavy left foot.

Suddenly, a soft voice filled the air, drawing him out of his body. "Carlton, what are you waiting for?"

He looked up and saw that the dark figure had returned, standing over Juliet's body, watching her struggle to take in air.

"You have to save her!" he commanded.

But she was on the ground. Maybe a foot away from him. Not that far away, but still farther than he'd moved not assisted by his cane, which was laying on the floor across the room where he had thrown it. He knew he needed to put pressure on her, but how was he supposed to do that when he had no control over his arm and very little over his leg?

"Just get to the ground." His voice instructed.

Time moved in slow motion as he worked his body forward on the chair, using his one good leg to slide his weight to the ground. He was surprised by the control that he had in his leg, finally realizing just how the therapy had been truly helping him get stronger. He sat at the base of the chair, his eyes fixed on his partner. He was close now. He could reach out and touch her leg, but he still felt like he had impossibly far to go.

From the ground, he could see her chest moving out of sync, fear filling her fluttering eyes as she gasped aggressively for air. She opened her mouth in an attempt to speak, but no words came and she gasped again.

"Now get to her!" the voice commanded. "You have to save her!"

Pushing his weight forward with his working arm, he used his leg to inch himself towards his partner. He made it forward six inches from the chair when his arm buckled and he fell towards the floor, unable to catch himself. His shoulder instantly ached from the sudden impact with the floor, but he didn't have time to think about that. From the ground, he looked over and watched his partner. Her eyes were tinted red and a tear began to fall down the side of her cheek. She turned her head and looked at him, her eyes begging for help.

"I can't breathe." The words escaped her lips in a soft whisper and he could feel her eyes watching him, waiting for him to save her.

He watched her chest's asynchronous rise and fall, blood spreading across her yellow t-shirt, bright like the sun. Bright like a ray of sunshine. His ray of sunshine.

A loud gasp escaped her lips and Carlton watched in horror as her eyes flickered quickly and then closed for good, never breaking eye contact.

"O'Hara!"

He had one thought and one thought only.

Get to her. Now.

Grunting in frustration, he used all of his strength to push himself off the ground and resumed his journey to reach her, carefully pushing himself as quickly as his limbs would carry him. Slowly but surely, the gap between them closed until he was within arm's reach of her. Shifting sideways, he carefully placed his hand on the source of the bleeding and leaned into her chest with all of his strength.

"Talk to me! Talk to me, Juliet!" He yelled urgently at her, forcing the words out of his tired lungs.

He looked around the room, praying for a way to reach the outside world. But something caught his eye. From the corner, he watched the dark figure step out of the shadow that he had been hiding behind. And for the first time since he had shown up, Carlton could see the dark figure's features clearly.

He could see his own features. Clearly.

When the dark figure looked up, Carlton could see his own face looking back at him, but younger. His hair wasn't gray. His beard well kept. His eyes still worked. He was standing on his own two feet effortlessly, moving his hands around the room without thought.

He was watching himself. Himself from before the accident.

The shadow, his ghost, squatted down in front of him and put a hand on Carlton's shoulder.

"You're... me?" He watched his own face reflecting his emotions.

"I always have been," the dark figure said. But his voice sounded less scary. And more familiar.

"But why? Why are you torturing me?"

The figure didn't answer. Instead, he put his hands down on top of Carlton's to help him put pressure on Juliet's chest.

"Carlton. I forgive you." the shadow looked squarely into his eyes, "This was not your fault. None of this is your fault. You did nothing wrong. I forgive you."

"I don't understand," he said, looking down at Juliet whose eyes remained closed. Her breath was getting shallow under his wet palm. "What do you mean?" he could feel the desperation clinging to his words.

"I forgive you for everything that you can't do anymore. I forgive you for not being able to pick up Lily anymore. Or dance with Marlowe. I forgive you for not being the same person you used to be now."

"But how am I going to be a good father or a good husband, when I'm stuck in bed all day?"

"You're not stuck in bed all day," the young man said to him, gesturing to Carlton. "You did this. All by yourself. You got out of the chair without any help. You made it to O'Hara without any help. You're supporting her right now, and no one else is here. This is all you."

Carlton looked around him. He saw the room he had imprisoned himself in for the last month and the figure he had held himself captor under. But it was just a room. And the figure was just a figment of his exhausted imagination.

"You're not the same as you were," the shadow said in a soft voice. "But you are still Carlton. The same one who loves his wife and would do anything for his daughter. You don't need to be able to run a mile or do a hundred pushups for that to be true."

Carlton let the words wash over him, as he channeled his energy into pushing onto his partner's shoulder. Her eyes were still closed, but he could still feel her heart beating rapidly under his palm.

"I forgive you, Carlton. I forgive you for not being the same as you were," the shadow of his past whispered to him, "You have to forgive yourself now."

Carlton watched as the dark figure disintegrated into thin air, fading into a memory right before his eyes.

He looked down at his partner. Thick blood had covered his hand and spread down the side of her chest, its path interrupted by her pregnant belly.

"You have to be okay, Juliet," he begged her unconscious body. "Stay with me."

He felt his arm fatiguing rapidly, quickly losing its ability to support his weight on her chest.

He felt his limp arm pulling his body to the ground, a heavy anchor on his shoulder.

He felt his partner's heartbeat slow down under his hand.

And the moment that all hope seemed lost, he felt the rumble of feet running down the hall.

He held his breath as the door swung open.