One Moment Too Late

Diana smiled as she pushed the swing. Up, down, up, down, and the little girl cheered with joy, "Push me higher Mommy!"

Diana laughed, "Alright," she replied as the swing came down on her again. Her short, brown hair was pulled into simple pigtails, and the breeze rustled her loose hoodie. Up, down, up, down. Her smile remained plastered on her face. She heard footsteps in the playground sand behind her, two people were approaching. She glanced at them, already aware of whom they were. Two weeks had passed since the day she arrived in their home, drenched with rain and tears. She hadn't seen either of them since, and she didn't know how much time had passed in the real world; maybe an hour, maybe a day. She did know why they were here, though.

"Diana," she was greeted by a male voice. It was deep and assertive, though it held a hint of distress.

She smiled at him, "Hello Tom," she responded warmly. She then nodded at the black haired woman two steps behind her partner, "Alana."

Tom shook his head, and Diana continued to push the swing, though, her body was now turned towards Tom. "I know why you're here," she stated, Tom only nodded in return.

"Diana, you have to come back. We can find Maia together," he pleaded.

Diana sighed, shaking her head. "There's no finding her Tom, she died over one hundred years ago." She paused to push the swing, "My guess is I only have a few days at most. But who knows how long that will be in here?" She pushed again, and the little girl giggled, "I'm staying here, Tom. I'm staying with her for as long as I can."

Tom shook his head, "Diana-"

"I'm staying Tom." She repeated, finality dripping from every word. Tom knew his best friend enough to know when to give up an argument. He clearly wasn't getting her back this way, "Please, Di." He tried once more, but she only gave him a sad smile. He turned to leave, Alana following close behind. Diana pushed the swing; she wanted to call out to him, but her voice wouldn't work.

Tom sat next to the ICU bed. He scowled as he felt the bed sheets, they were thin and cold. He shook his head as his gaze shifted to the sleeping patient. Her chest slowly expanded with each breath. He pulled the covers tighter around her neck, attempting to keep her as warm as possible. A monitor beeped a foot or two away from her face, and IV's connected her body to machinery. Her head was tilted towards where Tom sat, and her mouth hung slightly open. He placed his hand on the sheets covering her arm, slowly rubbing his thumb across it. He leaned in to her, and he could hear her breathing. As long as he heard her breaths, felt the heat of her skin, she was alive. She wasn't dead, not yet. He watched her for what seemed like hours. Her face was paler than normal, and the bags under her closed eyes made her look sickly. Her hair hung lazily against her pillow, and the light brown contrasted its surrounding dull colors. He had never seen her so still before, so calm, so fragile. Diana was always the one with the take-charge attitude, the brains, and the passion. Tom fought back a tear and sighed. She would always walk around NTAC as if she owned the building, never cocky, but confident. She was the reason he got up in the morning, the reason he risked his life on a weekly basis. She was his anchor. She was beautiful.

Diana was the strongest person he knew, but the woman lying in this bed was not Diana. This woman was a shell, a mere vessel. The real Diana, his Diana, was lost and he didn't know how to bring her back. He had run through every possible scenario in his mind, but nothing he thought of could bring her back. There was no way for the doctors to force her out of the coma, and there was no way for Tom to coax her out of her dream world. He wondered what she was doing in her world, and how much time had passed since he convinced Alana to take him there. He wondered if she was happy there, and if she would be with Maia again once she died. The doctors decided she only had about a day or so left. Tom let a tear slip from his eye. He considered having Alana take him back; he could stay with Diana until they both died. She could be with Maia, he could be with her, and the whole world could go by without them. The vast river of time turning to a lake: their past, present, and future molding into one moment. Another tear slipped from his eyes, landing on Diana's cheek as he leant down to kiss her forehead. He brushed it away with his thumb, and his hand lingered on her warm skin. The warmth, he reminded himself, it's not too late.

Diana held a picture of Tom in her hands. She rubbed her fingers against the sides of the photo as her mind worked to memorize every detail. She remembered the day this was taken. Tom had invited her to his sister's house for a summer barbecue. It was before he met Alana, back when Diana had been the only female in his life. He had finally finalized the divorce with his ex-wife, Linda, and Diana had become his main distraction. They had become best friends at this point. Diana's face smiled happily next to Tom's in the photograph. Tom's family decorated the background; coloring the moment with bright T's and light shorts. Tom had been wearing the white V-Neck Diana loved, and she wore her blue sundress. Tom had bought it for her birthday. She was wearing the earrings Maia had given to her on Mother's Day; Tom had been the one to bring her shopping. A sad smile crossed her face as she remembered the times she shared with him.

Diana rinsed a serving tray before placing it in the dishwasher. The gathering was over by now, and only a few family members were left to clean up the mess throughout the house. From the living room she could hear Shawn and Danny roughhousing, and she smiled. Susan came into the kitchen with a bag of decorations and used cups and plates. She pushed away a stray balloon to make room for the garbage. "You don't have to stay, you know." She smiled at Diana, "you already helped set up."

Diana smiled back at Tom's sister, "It's no problem, Susan, really."

Diana continued with the dishes. Susan took a tentative step towards her brother's partner, taking hold of a few dishes herself, "So," she began, "you and Tom."

Diana eyed the woman, "What about me and Tom?" she asked.

Susan shook her head, "It's just…Tom's never really invited anyone other than Linda over before."

Diana looked up from the sink, cocked an eyebrow, and stuffed a tray into the full dishwasher. "Are the two of you…?" Susan felt awkward; she wasn't quite sure what to make of Diana. She looked at Susan, questionably, obviously confused as to what she meant. "You know," Susan prompted, "seeing each other?"

Diana blushed, quickly shaking her head, "No, no." she said, "No, we're just partners, friends, but we're definitely not…involved."

Susan only looked at Diana, a doubtful glint in her eyes. She knew her brother, and how he acts. The way he talked about this woman standing next to her, it was more than just mentioning a friend.

Diana noticed Susan's stare, her blush intensified, "Tom's a nice guy, and he's really sweet when he wants to be…And I'll admit he's not too hard on the eyes either. But we're not a couple." Diana laughed, still embarrassed. Susan shrugged, suggestively, and Tom remained silently hidden outside of the room.

The photo album glinted with scattered tear drops. Diana didn't regret her decision to stay with her daughter, but she missed the way things used to be. She misses seeing Tom on a daily basis, and spending countless hours with her best friend. She almost wishes he was here with her, almost, because if he was it would mean he was dying too. And she didn't want him to die. He had so much left for him in his life: NTAC, Kyle, Shawn, Susan, Danny, Alana…they hadn't spent as much time with each other since he met her. That day was one of the most conflicting days of her life. The future had paired them together, creating an alternate universe where they were married for eight years before returning. Diana hadn't had Maia in this world, and she lived alone shifting through a new boyfriend every month. Tom said she was never happy in this world, and now she understood why.

He had seemed like he was breaking out of a trance, suddenly jumping up and demanding if the 4400 were real. Upon questioning she had told him about Alana Mireva, who had just left NTAC base. She had never seen his eyes light up as much as they did that day. Then he had kissed her, before running out of their conjoined office. Her eyes wide, she fanned the collar of her shirt. In her own trance she felt the skin just above her eyes, and could still feel the heat of Tom's lips. She sat that way, stunned, for what seemed like hours. It was the first time her heart had fluttered in eleven years.

She held the picture of Tom in her hands, wondering what could've happened if the future hadn't meddled. If Tom had never met Alana, never been married to her, would Diana be the one he held close? Would she be the one he introduced as Kyle's step-mother?

Tom sat in Diana's bed, running his hands over the mattress. The sheets were a deep red, matching the mahogany side table. The room was dark and cozy, and it seemed so…Diana. The closet door was slightly open, a pair of leather boots spilling out onto the floor. Her work clothes slipped through the crack of the door, and Tom knew that Diana would go crazy if she saw that she had left a mess. The apartment was empty, silent, and lonely. Whenever Tom had come over in the past it was always lively. But there was no longer that bubbly little ten-year-old to bring life to this empty home. There was no Hannah Montana coming from the living room television, no sounds of a little voice laughing from the phone in her room, and no more scribbling of a pencil in a diary. Tom had come to love that little girl as if she were his own child, and felt a pang of sorrow as he remembered Marco's findings. She, along with the other children, had been sent back further in time. They had all contributed greatly to the world, making modern day science and technology possible. But Maia had died from smallpox at the age of twenty-five. Diana had cried when she found out she was preparing to cross the Oregon Trail when it happened.

She had invited him over on the weekends multiple times. She had called him over one afternoon; Maia was sleeping over at Carrie's for the night. He came over, armed with microwave popcorn, only to find she had popped some on the stove. Tom sat on the couch, Diana following with the bowl of her popcorn. She curled her legs under her, their waists brushing against one another. She set the bowl between them and shifted further into the couch, leaning her shoulder against Tom's. She looked up at him, as if making sure this was okay. He smiled down at her, taking the remote in his hand to start the movie. She cringed when she saw the title, knowing that Tom had chosen the horror film purposely. He smirked to himself, resisting the urge to laugh. She never ceased to amaze him. Diana could follow a lead into the sketchiest of places, track down murderers, and shoot down a national terrorist. Yet with every character that was attacked, she buried her face deeper into his shoulder. She slapped him when he had finally laughed at her actions.

Towards the end of the movie, the mood began to change. The thriller music was replaced with lighthearted melodies, as the survivors made their way back into their normal lives. It was a happy enough ending, though, Tom could feel the weight of Diana's head still on his arm. He was about to make some comment when he noticed her position. Her shoulders were slouched, and her head shifted onto his chest. He smiled at her sleeping form, wrapping his arm around her shoulder to move her without waking his partner. He laid her down on the couch for a moment before scooping her legs and torso into his arms. He wrapped her bed sheets around her before quickly turning off the light. He stopped before he closed the door all the way, smiling slightly, "Goodnight, Diana."

Tom looked down at the brown pillow that once cradled her head. His hand gripped the sides of his coat, playing with a piece of loose string. They stayed that way until he reached his car. He had been at Diana's apartment for at least an hour, just thinking. His knuckles turned white as he made his way, slowly, to her hospital bed for the last time. Her skin somehow seemed paler, and her head glistened slightly with a fevered sweat. Her chest barely moved; the perfect contrast to Tom's. He knelt beside her, not trusting his knees to stand firm. Brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, he could only whisper, "This is probably the dumbest thing I've ever done," he paused to regain his voice, breathing deeply, "I wish you were here to stop me."

She felt like she was about to be sick. The image of blonde hair and a child-like face refused to leave her vision. She wanted to cry, to scream, to shoot whoever took her baby away from her. She was bent at the waist with one hand holding the wall for support, and the other clutching her stomach. She stood suddenly, taking a determined step forward, "Tom you have to believe that I have a daughter named Maia!" she all but screamed at her partner. Her eyes begged him to listen. Her breathing hitched at the little girl's name. Tom only had to look at her for a moment before shaking his head.

"I believe you, Diana." His hazel eyes met her green ones, "We'll get her back."

They stood that way for a moment, only staring into each other's eyes. Tom's held a glint of determination, while Diana's brimmed with tears. In a single moment she was in his arms, her own wrapped firmly around his neck in a vice grip. Her head titled into his, and she refused to let go even after the moment was over. No longer did she care that Alana was standing only a few paces away from her. She could feel Tom's hand slide up her back, making its way to her hair. She felt safe with her head cradled in his hand like this. For a moment, her pain could go away. For a moment she was happy, before grief quickly set back in, and the tears silently flowed down her cheeks.

The sound of water rushed through Tom's ears. The bridge was a deserted one, so he knew he wouldn't be interrupted. He could feel the thin, iron railing under his shoe. If he moved only slightly, he would fall. His heart raced as his neck was suddenly weighed down. He felt like he was wearing a scratchy, ten pound scarf. His pulse increased as he tried not to think of what he was about to do. Inevitably, his thoughts trailed to Diana. What if this didn't work? What if she woke up and he wasn't there?

"He went MIA once, who's to say he won't do it again?"

Diana's words rung through his mind. If it had been three years ago, Diana wouldn't have cared whether or not Tom disappeared. In fact, she probably would've welcomed the excuse to be partnered with someone else. NTAC had plenty of other agents that would've jumped at the chance of being partnered with an ex CDC. Especially an ex CDC that knows how to use a gun.

The car screeched to a halt and soon Tom was bolting from the driver's seat. Jean DeLynn Baker stood on the side of the busy street, her hands out and covered in hives. Tom reached for his gun, before stopping himself upon realizing the danger that might cause. Jean backed away when she saw him, her distress growing. The hives on her hands intensified, growing to a dangerous size. The 4400 had woken up in her car just a week ago to find her entire town dead. She ran, death following wherever she went. It didn't take her long to figure out she had become a sort of human plague.

"I've figured out why they sent me back," Jean spoke into the pay phone.

Tom paused as he recognized the all too familiar sound of a crazed criminal. His hand squeezed his cell phone tighter, afraid of what he might hear. "And why's that?" he asked.

Jean paused for a moment, smiling slightly into the phone, "To purify mankind."

Tom fought to keep his hands from shaking. There were hundreds of innocent people here, and there was no way for him to save any of them if this went wrong. "Jean," he began slowly, keeping his movement cautious, "you don't have to do this. It's not too late to change your mind."

A scared look crossed her face, and she took another step away from him. The hives on her hands grew larger, and Jean clenched her fingers. Tom took a step towards her, "All of the other deaths were accidental; they weren't your fault. If you do this, Jean, it'll be murder. I know you don't want that."

"I can't stop it!" Jean yelled, "It's too late…"

Tom took another step closer, attempting to restrain the 4400. She yelled, holding her hands up to her face. Suddenly a gun shot rang through the air, and the civilians screamed. Jean fell to the ground still and silent. Diana stood behind Tom, her gun still poised and her eyes held a wild look. Blood pooled from Jean's chest as EMT's bent over her. The hives had vanished.

Tom could still feel the cool iron beneath his feet, he could still hear the rush of the river below him, and the weight around his neck seemed to only grow heavier. He shook his head, trying to stop his hands from shaking. Would this hurt? Would he see his life flash before him? Would this even work out the way he planned? He had about a million questions, but no answers. So he took a breath…and he jumped.

Diana smiled at the sight of her daughter emerging from her room. She was in a light pink sundress that Diana thought went perfectly with her skin tone. Her hair was long now, almost to her waist, and had become pin straight with time. Diana was so proud of how beautiful her daughter was becoming, and of how deep that beauty ran. Still, as she watched her baby girl prepare for her date she couldn't help but long for the little girl she used to be. Maia was twenty now and attending a local collage. She was becoming a young woman before Diana's eyes. Maia noticed her mother's gaze and offered her a toothy smile, already recognizing the sentimental look her mother held. Diana held back a tear of pride and sorrow as she watched a nice looking young man take Maia away, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist as he did so. He had sandy colored hair and hazel eyes.

A pang of grief tore her heart as Diana made her way into her bedroom, pulling her pillow into her lap and resting her back firmly against the headboard. In a way the pain of losing her best friend had dulled over the years, and she was now able to lock it away in a vacant corner of her heart. It was times like this that made the pain resurface. If she saw a face, or smelled his cologne, the memories would begin to plague her mind.

She could remember the day that Ryland paired them together. The way his eyes sparkled as if he had just awoken from a well needed nap was forever burned into her mind's eye. His eyes had been the first thing she noticed about him when they met. They were soft and they stood apart from his otherwise gruff features. She loved his eyes.

Tom was blinded by the light that engulfed him. He hadn't felt anything from the jump, not even pain or discomfort. Had his plan worked, had the future interfered like he had hoped? Or had he failed? Was this endless white around him the end? Was this heaven? No, he doubted that much. This was the end, and he had failed everyone around him. He had left Alana, the woman he had been married to for eight years in his dream world. He had left his son, his son. Tom was appalled by the thought that Kyle would never know what had really happened. According to him Tom had committed suicide by hanging himself due to stress at work and home. Would he blame himself for his father's death? Would he believe that he was the cause of it all?

But the thought that pained him the most was the fact that he had failed his partner, his friend. He had failed Diana. But Tom didn't regret his actions. He had known the risk he was taking on that bridge, and he recognized the fact that he might not come home. But he had also known that there was a chance to bring back Diana, and however small that chance was he was willing to take it. Because this was Diana, and if Tom couldn't save her then he might as well die with her.

Diana began to cry as the music started to play. She held April's hand as her neck craned to see the big, white doors opening at the far end of the decorated room. She smiled at the sight of her baby girl, her hair pulled into a bun and Diana's mother's ring on her finger. Her steps were slow and graceful and her eyes never left the gaze of the sandy haired man waiting at the end of the isle. The ceremony was slow for Diana's taste, and she held back sobs at the sight of her daughter as she and her new husband left the church.

Diana returned to her empty apartment that night and once again sat down with her pillow in her lap. She felt she was getting too old for such a gesture, but it had become her tradition in the recent years. She smiled and held the picture of her and Tom once again and her fingers traced the curves of his face.

"I miss you, Tom." She had done this on multiple occasions now. She was old now, and she had never found love in this dream world of hers. She was sixty-five and found herself thinking about Tom much more than she had in years. She wondered what would have happened if she had stayed in the real world, or if he had come here. She imagined a church of her own, filled with blue flowers and vibrant green leaves. She could see the white fabric melting into the tone of her skin as she made her way down the aisle. She had dreams at night of what might have happened between them, and thoughts of the dreams stayed with her well into the day. Would he be lying in bed next to her right now? Would he be smiling as, just maybe, the sounds of a raven haired teenager with hazel eyes clanked about in the kitchen?

The white light around him melted like butter and soon the only thing left for him to see was grey. Everything was colorless as blurry silhouettes appeared around him. The blur left his eyes and he found himself in the same room he had been in back in his own dream world. He wasn't dead, he was in the future. From the shadows the distinct face of Sarah greeted him with emotions he couldn't place.

"Hello Tom," she said as she eyed him up and down, "Quite a stunt you pulled back there."

"For a minute I thought you hadn't done anything," Tom replied.

"Why would we do that?" Sarah asked, "We need you alive."

"Bring them back," Tom demanded with a glare, opting to get straight to the point. This room had never meant anything good in Tom's experience.

Sarah knew who Tom was talking about, and she also knew the reason behind him risking himself to return the children that were taken. The future had been well aware of the bonds Tom Baldwin had forged, and were equally aware of what he would be willing to do to fulfill his task. Sarah smiled and Tom immediately knew he wouldn't like what she had in mind.

"You'll have to do something for us, Tom."

He nodded desperately, his heart pounding and soaring all at the same time. This was his chance to bring the children back. This was his chance to return Maia to her mother. This was his chance to save Diana. "What do you want me to do?" he asked.

Sarah's smile faded into the scornful look of a strict businesswoman, "Return to your time," she said "and remember that there will be consequences if you back out of your end."

Diana had raced to the hospital in the rain, not even bothering to grab an umbrella as she sprinted out of her door and into the parking garage. The hospital was like any other, white and plain with that distinct impression you can't quite describe in words. She found the sandy haired man sitting in a chair with his parents by his side. April, now sixty years old, was sitting across from them. Diana slowed when she caught sight of them, finding it much harder to run about at her age of seventy-two. Her greying hair was twisted into a jumbled bun. She had finally given up dyeing it three years after Maia's marriage. She hated the silence of the hospital, and for a moment she was glad she wasn't conscious in her body to hear it in real life. She knew she would be in the quietest area of the hospital, where most patients either slept eternally or woke only when the pain called for them. She briefly wondered if Tom was sitting by her side, waiting for her to either die or to return to him. She pushed aside all thoughts of Tom as a tear stung her eye. She couldn't think of Tom, not today.

The wait was long for the family, though the time it took was much shorter than it is for most women. Diana was thankful for that. Her husband had been the one allowed in to see her, but Diana soon found herself standing at the hospital bedside upon her daughter's begging. In the day's to come if you were to ask Diana Skouris what had happened that day she would tell you she couldn't remember the details. The only thing she could remember was the warmth. She hadn't realized how cold she was until she felt the burning heat of the baby against her chest. She had Maia's nose and Diana could already picture a head of curly blonde hair. Her eyes were hazel. Diana loved her eyes.

This time there was no light, or blur of color, or even the sensation of waking from a deep slumber. Tom had merely blinked and then he was no longer in the future. He recognized the wooden fireplace before him. This was the place where Diana was sure Sarah had taken Maia. This was the place that had driven her to suicide.

A letter atop of the mantel with his name displayed neatly on the envelope caught Tom's attention. Would this be the instructions the future will have him follow in return for the children. He knew he wouldn't like it from the fact that Sarah had sent him here without telling him his task. It was if she were telling him it was too late to back out of their deal. When he picked up the envelope he quickly discovered that it was no letter. The box of what, otherwise, would look like a jewelry box now lay gingerly in Tom's hands. But this box did not contain jewelry. Inside laid a filled syringe and a notecard with two simple words: kill Isabelle.

Diana smiled as she pushed the swing. Up, down, up, down, and the little girl cheered with joy, "Push me higher Grammy!"

Diana laughed, "Alright," she replied as the swing came down on her again. Her short, grey hair was pulled into simple pigtails, and the breeze rustled her loose cardigan. Up, down, up, down. Her smile remained plastered on her face. She heard footsteps in the playground sand behind her, two people were approaching. She glanced at them, already aware of whom they were.

"Diana," she was greeted by a male voice. It was deep and assertive, but Diana could hear the gentle tone that always surfaced around the child.

She smiled at him, "Hello Maia," she responded warmly. She then nodded at the sandy haired man two steps behind his wife, "Joseph."

Diana stopped the swing and the little girl jumped off the swing and ran towards her parents, "Mommy!" she cheered as she jumped into her mother's arms. Diana smiled as her heart melted at the sight.

Tom had rushed Maia to the hospital, not even bothering to call Alana and tell her that he had brought the children back. All he could think about was Diana's frail body with tubes in her wrists. She would be even paler than she had been before, and her breathing would no doubt be labored.

Tom had found the children in the second floor of the house, and Maia had been the first to emerge from her room and throw her arms around him. If he had time to spare he would have cried. He would have held onto the little girl and sobbed his relief of finding her and his grief of losing Diana. But he didn't have that kind of time. Because Diana was dying, and even nine-year-old Maia knew that.

The room where Diana slept was noisy and Tom could hear the commotion from down the hall. A nurse ran by him as he felt his breathing increase. If it wasn't for Maia standing next to him he would have run into the room, grabbed the nurse, and demand what was happening. Instead his eyes grew wide and a lump formed in his throat. Not now, not like this…

Five minutes later Tom was holding Maia and he stared at his partner over the child's head. His eyes let slip no tears, he was in too much shock for that. His heart felt like it was sinking down below the ocean, falling further and further away from the beautiful sight of the horizon and ever so closer to the cold darkness of the sandy bottom.

He refused to let Maia be taken away when it was time to leave. Maia was Diana's daughter, and Tom refused to let her be cared for by anyone other than him. He knew it was what Diana would have wanted. They both cried that night in the empty apartment. Maia clung to her pillow and Tom sat on Diana's bed, breathing in the smell of her perfume. It was well into the night when he finally allowed himself to cry, the tears spilling onto Diana's pillow. Alana had called him ten times now, and Kyle five. Tom ignored them; he knew the only comfort he would get was from the room that smelled of Diana, from the pictures of her smiling face, and the memories that now tore him apart. Diana was his horizon, and Diana was gone.

Diana lay in bed with the sheets pulled up to her neck. Her white hair was sprawled across her pillow and her hand and was held tightly by her, now, middle aged daughter. She offered her mother a toothy smile, the same smile she always offered when her mother held that sentimental look. It was all she could do. She didn't dare cry, even though that's all she wanted in this moment. But she knew her mother wouldn't want that, and Diana was aware of her daughter's efforts. Diana didn't regret her decision to stay here, she had seen her daughter grow and start a family of her own. When Diana came into the dream world she did it because her baby needed her. As her eyes grew heavy she shifted her gaze to the photo of her and Tom resting on her nightstand. She knew now that Maia no longer needed her, and Diana was content with her final moment. With a gentle squeeze and smile from mother to daughter Diana slipped away, a smile still on her face.

Diana opened her eyes to see white all around her. The raven colored hair she donned in her youth hung loosely from her head, and her green eyes sparkled with light. A silhouette appeared through the fog and Diana smiled when she saw who it was. He was wearing the white V-neck she loved, his sandy hair pushed back messily. She was wearing the blue sundress he gave her for her birthday and the earrings Maia had gotten her for Mother's Day. She found herself running into his arms and he spun her around. His eyes were hazel. She loved his eyes.

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