Disclaimer: If I owned the show, it wouldn't be canceled.

Warning: Exterme angst. Read at your own risk.

Spoilers: Absolutely none. It takes place post series with little to no references to anything but vague situations.

He hated hospitals with their perfect white walls and sickly smell of disinfectant sprayed in copious amounts in a failed attempt to disguise the bitter stench of death. People only came to places like this for two reasons: death for the lucky ones, waiting for the unlucky ones.

Waiting. It was more painful than any sickness or injury anyone in any of those hard beds could imagine. It was a pain that had no cure, no antidote. Waiting. Always waiting.

The clock was taunting him with its obnoxious ticking, reminding him of how long he'd been there and, even worse, how long he'd have to stay. It echoed in the quiet hall, rumbling and growing louder like thunder in a storm. What he wouldn't give to make it stop, to turn it back before all this, before today.

--

"Female. Gunshot victim, no exit. BP, sixty over one-eighty. Prep the ER, stat!"

He'd tried to follow them, demanding that they let him through.

"You can't do anything for her."

"What about her…?" He couldn't say it out loud.

"I'll be honest, it doesn't look good."

--

Why had she done it? How could she have been so stupid? He wasn't worth it.

--

"Matt!"

He turned to see the HT raise his gun. He didn't have time to move.

Bang! Bang!

A streak shot past him, blocking the bullets meant for him.

He looked down at the woman at his feet. For a moment he didn't see anything. Then he saw the growing puddle of dark red liquid flowing from her chest.

In the distance, he heard another gunshot and muffled voices saying something about the HT being dead. All he registered were the words, "We've got an agent down. I repeat: Agent Lehman is down."

--

He had been so sure he'd had him. He was going to give himself up.

--

"Sometimes you try everything you can, but it just doesn't work. You've got to know when to let go."

"Have you ever loved someone? I mean really loved them? I'm not talking about the when-you-look-in-her-eyes-you-go-sappy kind, but the kind where every moment you're not with her your heart feels like its breaking."

He'd looked over at her then and they'd gazed into each other's eyes for a long moment. "Yes, Kyle, I have."

"Then you know what it feels like when they break your heart and leave you kneeling in the middle of a crowded restaurant with a quarter of a million dollar engagement ring like the main character in some cruel parody of a romantic comedy. "

"I can only imagine how terrible that must have been for you--"

"That's right, you can only imagine!"

"But you've got to trust there is someone else out there for you."

"There isn't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"There is no one like her. You wouldn't understand."

"I bet I would. There is no one like my girl either."

"Would you die for her?"

Matt didn't hesitate. Looking directly into her eyes, he said, "Yes."

"Then how could you be so sure there is someone else?"

"I'm not, but life's too hard to go through it alone. Sometimes you just have to put the past behind you and move on."

There was a long pause.

"I think I'm ready to come out now."

--

It was all his fault. If only he'd taken the chance when he'd had it. He should have just given up.

--

"We have a shot. We can make it."

"Don't! Wait! I think I've nearly got him."

"Matt, are you sure? You've been talking to him for nearly twelve hours."

"I just need a few more. Give me a chance. Don't take the shot."

"You have thirty minutes and then Frank takes care of this his way."

"That's all I need."

--

Why did she have to come with him? Why hadn't she just stayed home?

--

"Where are you going?"

"There's a situation downtown. Everyone else is busy."

"What about me?"

"You're staying here."

"I won't break, I promise."

"It's too risky in your condition."

"I'm fine. The doctor said I was good for another three months."

"I don't care. I can't risk anything happening to you. You're too important to me for that."

"That's sweet, but unnecessary. What if I promised to stay out of the way?"

"Do you really promise? No sacrificing yourself for any of the hostages or falling for any traps?"

"Who do I look like? You?"

"Just promise."

"Fine, I promise I won't do anything stupid."

"Okay, but I'm telling Cheryl about us and you as soon as it's over and you're getting out of the field. Deal?"

"You drive a hard bargain, but deal."

"Good. Get your coat."

--

Why did he have to pick up that phone in the first place?

--

"Flannery."

"It's Carerra. I know you're not on call, but we have a situation and everyone else is already working."

"What kind of situation?"

"Some man is holding up a jewelry store. Three hostages: the manager and two customers.

"Burglary gone wrong?"

"It doesn't look like it. Seems premeditated. A genuine psycho, just how you like it."

"I'll be right in."

--

This blood on his hands? He'd heard it just this morning flowing through her heart in a steady rhythm that matched his own perfectly.

--

Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.

"Do you hear that?"

"Mm-hmm." He inhaled the scent of her hair and moved to snuggle closer to her.

She placed his hand over her beating heart. "Do you know why it does that?"

"Because you're alive?"

She laughed and smacked him playfully on the shoulder. "Because you're here. And this," she moved his hand lower to rest on her abdomen, "is because of how much I love you."

"I still can't believe it. Your parents will kill me when they find out I got you pregnant before the wedding."

"So will Cheryl."

"It'll be worth it though."

"Will it now?"

"If it means you'll never leave me."

"I could never leave you."

"That's good because I don't think I could live without you."

"You could try."

"I never want to."

"Neither do I."

--

All he could do now was wait. Wait to leave. Wait for news. Wait for her.

He'd give anything to turn back the clock. Anything to make it yesterday. Anything but her.

A/N: After watching all the episodes and reading several excellent fanfics, I just had to try one out for myself. I'm not sure where all the angst came from, I was just in the mood for a good tragedy. I think it has something to do with this paper I've been avoiding. It's hard to write comedy when all you can think about is how your professor is going to flay you alive in the morning. I did try to write the paper, but when I sat down all that came out was this. I figured I might as well be a productive procrastinator, so whallah! Now you have an excuse to procrastinate too! Aren't I nice? My sister says it doesn't end, but she was never one for subtlety and I prefer to keep it in the air whether she lived or died. Personally I think she lived, but if you really want to cry, go on ahead and think she died. By the way, interesting fact, this is my only story inspired more by a song than a film. I feel like I'm really growing. Oops, there I go with the film references again. Never mind.