A/N: Last night's episode was horribly sad and disappointing and left me kind of bitter. I really don't think Vega should have been killed and I don't like the way Jane was written. It just didn't feel right. My heart broke for Lisbon in that last scene. I'm also frustrated that Vega died off screen. Over the season she became my favorite character and I think she deserved better than to be killed simply as a plot device. Anyway, I apologize for the rant, 7x10 has left me emotionally distraught. As far as this one shot goes, there might be a few medical inaccuracies in Vega's consciousness and state of being, but they were necessary for her conversation with Cho, so I hope you can forgive me. Reviews are always appreciated!

The commotion of nurses was overwhelming, the clatter of medical materials, the hush of voices. And though the tension was penetrating, their expressions were unreadable, a professional mask set in place. It was something Cho understood. To the nurses and doctors, this was routine, this was everyday activity. Recover the hurt, transport them, save lives. What happens when a life can't be saved?

Cho sat in the room, feeling helpless and guilty and nervous. Blood saturating his shirt, staining the cuffs in blooms of deep crimson. For the time being he didn't take notice. He just sat, his eyes and thoughts refusing to leave the rookie agent. On the hospital bed she looked so delicate, so fragile. So small without her eyes shining, her lips moving vivaciously with witty comments, the upturn of a grin. She was drifting in and out of hazy consciousness. A monitor conveyed her weakening heartbeat.

Death. It wasn't something easy to accept. It never is.

How does someone exist so wholly one second, and then cease to breathe the next?

Her eyelids parted slowly and the pain seeping through her irises was enough to send a tremor of aching grief through anyone, even the most stoic of agents.

She mumbled softly, her words tumbling in a slur, "I'm sorry."

"No, no," he said firmly but gently, moving his hands from his lap and taking her smaller one in his. "You did fine," he said. "More than fine."

A brief tilt of her head indicated a nod. She contemplated which words to say between agonizing breaths. "Was I a good agent?" she asked, her voice growing softer with each word.

"You are a good agent, all right? Hang in there, Michelle."

The corner of her lips pulled upward in the minutest of ways, but for Cho it meant so much. To the world, to the universe, it might be the last hint of her smile they'd ever see.

"You're going to be okay," Cho promised. As the words fell from his mouth he knew they weren't true. In their wake was bitterness, the pain of finality. The excruciating sting of goodbye.

A nurse caught Cho's eye. Her facial expression confirmed his initial belief. Vega wasn't going to make it. The odds were against them.

The younger agent's frail voice pulled him back. "Thank you for everything. Tell Lisbon and Jane I said thanks, and Abbott too. Let Wylie know not to dwell. It would've been good, but he can get through it. I know he can. " Her words were coming quickly in a brief stream of awareness. She was rushing. The end drawing closer. Inevitable. The brightness in her eyes fleeing.

"Vega, don't talk like that. Abbott's already on his way, he's almost here. Jane and Lisbon are close behind him. They're rushing over now. You're going to be able to tell them yourself."

The words convinced neither her nor himself.

She shook her head. "Thank you for letting me into your team and…" her voice trailed off as her eyes closed. A shaking breath filled her lungs.

It was the last one she would ever take.

As her heartbeat disappeared, the nurses' movements grew rapid and frantic. Desperate. Cho squeezed Vega's cold hand. "No, no, no." His own voice was foreign, betraying his usual composed manner. "Vega," he said, reaching for her. His outstretched hand was blocked by a doctor as she rushed to Vega. Urgently the medical team tried to revive her.

"Michelle," Cho breathed quietly, squeezing his eyes shut.

It was too late.

Vega slipped into darkness. Confusion. Then, maybe something of a miracle pulled her through. The priceless gift of just a few moments. Suddenly, the FBI building reformed before her, its sharp image replaced with a warm, hazy glow, like the smeared hues of a watercolor painting. She was lying on a hospital bed in a conference room. Through the window she could see the bullpen. Everything felt strangely off.

Cho was sitting in a chair next to her. Abbott entered the room. Flustered, nervous movements carried Jane and Lisbon there, shoes squeaking on tile, fingers fumbling doorknobs and elevator buttons.

"You're here," Vega said, a bright grin spreading across her, surprise coloring her words. A glimmer shone through her eyes.

"Of course we're here," Lisbon said, moving toward the young agent and giving her hand a squeeze.

"It's going to be okay," Jane said. His form was blurry in Vega's delirious subconscious.

Wylie appeared quickly, blond hair glowing in an angelic smudge.

She looked down, the bullet wound was gone from her abdomen. Her breath came easily, entirely painless. She felt strength and courage pulsing through her veins, love filling her heart. She slipped from beneath the bed's sheets and moved toward Wylie, flinging her arms around him.

Vega buried her head against his chest as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "What we had was good," she whispered against him. "It was so, so good."

Using the tips of her toes to gain some height, Vega looked over Wylie's shoulder and motioned the rest of the team over. Soon, she was engulfed in the sincere comfort of a group hug. Heartbeats all close, bodies held tightly. "I don't want to go," she admitted, voice cracking on the last words as tears sprung from her eyes.

The door crept open with a soft creak before anyone could respond. They looked up, dispersing slowly. Vega's father appeared, a loving smile on his face.

"Dad." Her voice was in awe, she took a step toward him then halted. Stuck in the middle between two pasts, not sure where to go.

"Michelle, I've missed you so much, but I wish you didn't have to leave yet. I wish you had a choice."

"I know," she said quietly, her eyes searching his. She didn't want to depart, didn't feel ready to go, but with her dad by her side she'd be okay. She would find a way to cope with everything she was cruelly and prematurely being forced to leave behind.

So, she let go, joining her father in the doorway. Moving from one family to another. She blew a soft kiss to the FBI team and gave a little wave before disappearing into darkness. Forever gone. Always missed.