The Fifth Time

The first time it happens, he pulls her into a closet. "What the hell are you-?" are the only words she manages to get out before his lips crush into hers. Moments later, his hands slip under her shirt, then a little after that, he removes it. The rest is a scurry of skin against skin and hot breaths and soft, stifled moans.

The second time, he takes her by surprise again. This time he chooses a morgue table. It is not entirely romantic but that's not what they have ever been about.

Third is her favourite time: as they finish, he whispers to her, a questioning look in his eyes. "Dinner tomorrow?" She nods and smiles. It's about time they did something more official together. To this point, they have been words, burning against each other, and skins melding, slipping, sliding. Nothing about their relationship has been about caring about each other.

The fourth time is not after their dinner date, but rather the next time they have a rewind day. There is a sorrow in both of them as they slide together, tears in eyes and longing in gazes. The rewind is one that ends with a death: his. And try as she might, both of them know that this is not going to be one of her victories. As the time comes, and they share last looks, his death not far off, she wonders aloud, "Are you ready to follow those you've sent over?"

He says nothing. Her words, though harsh in some ways, were not intended that way. He knows this. He knows that without a doubt, she would do all she could to save him... and not because they are together – or rather, almost together, but not quite, not in the ways that matter – but because it is her job. It is what she has been doing for most of the past few years of her life. It is her calling, just as death is his, just as death is calling him to leave her behind and let go of life.

The fifth time doesn't happen. She saves someone else, moments before he is killed and she can't save him. The day does not restart to allow her another chance to try and save him. She saved who needed to be saved. And this time, he wasn't that person. This time, he was the one that she couldn't save and the one that could not save himself.

fin.