So, the last chapter of Rowena. Hope you enjoyed the story - and if you did, you're welcome to follow its spin-off, titled R.A.T.. It will start in January 2012, and although it is primarily about Rowena, there will be all of the "most common" Sanctuary characters, like Helen, of course, the children and Declan (a bit further down the road). So, stay tuned! And... um... reviews, pretty please ;) You know the drill ;)

Nikola came to the end of the long sterile, unfriendly corridor and opened the large window, the corridor's only source of natural light and fresh air. He breathed it in thirstily, feeling as if he had been choking all along on the murky air of the hospital. The window was inviting, it just lured him outside, to get out of here run away, run away and never turn back…

He had no idea how long had passed before he realised tears were running down his face. Nothing intense, but all the more inevitable. There was a door waiting to be opened further down the corridor, and when it did, there would be no good news. The message would be of death – and the only gradation would be about how soon it was going to come. Nikola himself felt dead inside: his world had come to its end that gorgeous May morning.

Several hours passed. The door eventually opened and a surgeon came out.

"Mr. Tesla," he called Nikola in a low voice, and he left the window to come face the ugly truth.

"There's good news and bad news. The bad news is that it is, indeed, a tumour, and even more unfortunately, one that's both inoperable and generally irresponsive to radiation treatment. The good news is that it is rather slow in growth, which means your wife probably has fifteen, seventeen more years to live," the doctor informed him. His voice was pleasant, but he was well aware of what news he was delivering, and its tone, therefore, was level and void of emotions.

"She's just turned thirty-four," Nikola responded quietly. The other things – how difficult her life had already been – were pointless to even mention.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Tesla. I wish there was more we could do for her," the surgeon assured him, and by the looks of it, he was honest in this sentiment.

"Does she know yet?"

"Not everything. We want to wait till she's recovered from the seizure and the biopsy properly so that we can have a sit-down with both of you and explain the nature of the tumour to you. You can see her now, though," the doctor offered and when Nikola nodded wordlessly, he was shown into the room where his pale love was lying.

They never married. She had just come to him one day and asked if he would give her his name – and seeing as they had been coming close to the age when a common surname would benefit them, he had let her go along with the idea.

Now she was listening calmly as the doctor explained that her tumour was like a tree whose branches reached into her brain, making it impossible to be removed wholly. She didn't react to the "good news" that she could still have up to two decades to live either. Nikola was watching her intently, trying to guess her thoughts.

She only offered him an insight once she was discharged and they reached home. When he turned to her after closing the front door, he found her laughing.

"After everything," she said. "Would you believe it?"

"Hardly," he answered quietly. "And once more I'm in the position where I want to give up my immortality for your sake – this time to save your own life. Win, if I could die in your place a thousand times over, I would…"

"This is a very stupid way to go, Nikola. I don't do stupid, do you get me? I don't. I'm not dying because some cells find my brain cosy. There will be no dying. Not like this," she said firmly.

"You're in denial," he shook his head sadly.

"And you've clearly given up on me, I see. You want my previous statement to be true as much as I do? Then help me do something about it! Turn me into a bovinepire or whatever it is you are. Invent something that could cut this thing out of me! Find some previously unknown type of radiation that would drive this thing out of me! Better still, let's call Annabelle and ask her to help. She's a healer and she's several thousand years old, and you're supposed to be a bloody genius, so do something and help me!"

There were no tears. She wouldn't let them come and weaken her resolve. She had survived too much to be taken away like this. Something wanted her alive when the train crashed twenty-six years ago, there had to be a reason she was spared – and her existence in this world has barely amounted to anything yet. Or was she supposed to believe that this was a spur she needed to kick her into action and do something great while she still had the time? Erm, hello? Brain function deterioration, anyone up there?

Anyway, never mind all that. The significance or insignificance of her life notwithstanding, it was still her life and her life only to end as she pleased. Nothing and no one would make that decision for her.

This resolve didn't weaken one bit even when the sobbing Annabelle told her over the phone that she had no power over the matters of the brain. Healing the rest of the body was easy – but treading down the complicated pathways of the mind might result in damaging the healer herself, which wasn't anything Rowena would ever ask of her friend.

Two months later, Nikola gave up his research on how to turn Rowena into a sanguine vampiris, realising he was progressing too slowly to finish in time. His partner's reaction to this was a sigh of relief.

"The universe is smart. It knows I'd probably kill half the people in the States before you'd tame me enough to drink from cows," she smiled.

"But I don't know what else to do, Win. I didn't find a way to cut the thing out, I didn't find a way to make you immortal. And I don't want to lose you, not after you've been so brave and you made me believe we were going to make it…"

"Ok, let's think," Rowena stopped him before he could break down. "It's a question of time, isn't it? In both cases. Given time, you'd build a tool that could cut the tumour out completely. Given time, you could find a way to turn me into a vampire. Technology has progressed rapidly since I've been born, there's every reason to believe it will continue to do so. All we need – is time."

"You don't have that kind of time."

"Make it for me."

"What?" he blurted out, utterly confused, but already it was dawning on him where she was headed with this.

"Freeze me. Put me in stasis," she voiced the idea out loud. "You can do that, can't you?"

"Well, theoretically…" he shrugged, and then he literally jumped up and squeezed her in his arms. "Of course I can do that, my love! And I'm going to wake you up in a beautiful, advanced age when everything will be spectacular and perfect and we will be enjoying it together. And then you can die when you're over a hundred years old and you'll pose as my great-grandmother and we'll laugh about it in private," he poured out excited promises at her, making her genuinely laugh. "My people mastered the art of stasis ages ago, and it just so happens that I got my hands on some of their research," he explained a bit more calmly. "I can do it, Win, I promise I can. Everything's going to be ok, darling."

He was far less happy five months later, however, when all was ready. He had been successful in building the stasis chamber; he had taken care of the prolonged need for powering the device, he secured and double-checked everything that posed a potential threat to the smooth running of the chamber – and suddenly all there was left to do was for Win to step into it. At that point, he suspected, he truly realised what was about to happen. They would be separated for an indefinite period of time, possibly decades or even centuries, after having been together for almost thirty years, becoming practically inseparable, being each other's world. He couldn't imagine living a day without her, let alone years. Everything from her smile in the morning, her scent, the touch of her hair on his face and her lips on his; the firm hold of her hand that never failed to give him new energy; her words of support, her insights, suggestions, and most importantly her kindness and love, he would lose all of that the moment he switched the device on. He tried to find consolation in the fact that even though it might last a lifetime or two, it was really just temporary, but it already felt too much like his heart being ripped from his chest and fed back to him. He wept, and when she found him, she took him gently in her arms, speaking to him softly and stroking his hair.

"My angel, my angel," he sobbed, "what ever will I do without you?"

"You will try to find a way to bring me back to you, and you will hope and never give up," she said. "And if it takes too long and you think you might have strayed, or ran out of ideas, you will stop and pause and take a rest, and then you will get up and fight for me again, because that's what I need you to do. You have the power over my life and death now, my love, I give it to you. But you must never let me die, never let this kill me, do you understand?"

There was no threat, no desperation in her voice. She believed in him, and was giving him courage to do what needed to be done. But she had every faith that he could pull it through, and they would meet on the other side of the bridge they were building.

They did not sleep that night; they kissed, made love and made sure they would both remember each other completely for the empty time stretch gaping in front of them. Then, in the morning, they shared their last breakfast and presently Annabelle arrived, to be there for the moment. Time went by while they held and kissed each other, trying to savour the feeling and convey a thousand messages through their touching bodies. Rowena was the first to break off, eventually, taking a deep breath to retrieve her courage and stepping into the chamber. But just as Nikola nodded in understanding and was about to close it after her, she flew back into his arms, covering his face with kisses and holding him tightly.

"Remember what I told you, Nik. I love you, and I believe in you. Be strong for me, darling, you can do this," she whispered in his ear.

He nodded again, although his eyes were brimming with tears. "I love you too," he whispered, as she stepped back into the chamber and let him close the door for good, so that he wouldn't see her own eyes betraying her, salting her cheeks.

The system sprung into action, and by the time the noise subsided in favour of the constant low humming it would perpetually give out, Nikola was writhing on the floor, sobbing hysterically and whispering Rowena's name into Annabelle's consoling shoulder.

THE END