Title: Only You

Summary: They say that, as you die, your life flashes before your eyes.

Season: It's season 6, I guess.

Spoilers: Doubt is about it, really. And it's just an implied spoiler.

Disclaimer: Sadly they are not my property. One day, maybe- but I am just barrowing them for now.

Authors Note: Ok, so I'm not sure how good this was. We had a sub in Government class today and I had already finished my work and still had about forty minutes until class was over, so this is what came to my mind. Let me know what you think about it.

POV: Elliot's

WIP: Nope, guys. This is just a one-shot fic. I haven't done one of those in awhile...

XXXX

They say that, as you die, your life flashes before your eyes. All the things that ever meant something to you, playing in your mind like a movie. Family and friends, the things you accomplished and even your failures, all come crashing back into your memory, flooding your mind. But as I laid on that cold, concrete ground, blood pouring from the wound in my stomach and drenching me in its stickiness, I saw only one thing.

You.

I've always wondered who 'they' are. Does anyone really know? How does one even tell others what happened to them as they died? A letter from the other side, perhaps, or a visit from their ghost? It doesn't really matter, though, does it? They were wrong.

I didn't see myself as a young child, falling off of my "big boy bike" for the first time and I didn't see my first kiss, or the look of pure horror on my face when her father opened the front door and caught us. Nor did I see the first time I laid eyes on my wife, our first date, the day she told me she was having my child, or even our divorce. I didn't see anything remotely close to that, although most would have expected me to.

Of course I thought about those near and dear to my heart, who on earth wouldn't? Thoughts of my children growing old without me there were persistent and I gloomily wondered who would walk my girls down the isle when I was gone... those where the things that I thought about as I lay dying.

But you were the only thing that I could see.

Images of my wedding day didn't pass through my mind and I didn't remember the sheer terror I felt the first time I held my baby girl in the palms of my hands, or the awe and wonder at how small she was at that she was mine. The days of goofing off with my military brothers were distant memories and the summers I spent with my young family at the beach long forgotten...

I saw only you.

You. Hovering over me, fear in your eyes, tears falling down your face, you were the only thing that registered in my mind. Your dark brown hair was wet with the falling snow and I noticed you shiver as you screamed into your radio, "Man down! We need a bus!"

Then you were pulling off my shirt. Had it been any other situation I might not have minded, but it was March and it was snowing and I was cold. "God Elliot," you whispered, "what happened?"

I tried to answer you but only a burbling noise came out. You frowned and bunched my shirt up, holding it over the flowing wound, getting you and your clothes soaked with my blood in the process.

You screamed into the radio again; where was the god damned ambulance? He was bleeding far too much. If they didn't hurry he wouldn't make it.

"Don't leave me," you begged, pushing against the wound harder, trying desperately to stop the bleeding, or at least slow it down. "God damn it, Elliot, if you leave me I swear..." you trailed off, uncertain of what you would really do if I was gone. "I'd die..." you whispered in a meek voice, tears falling onto my bare chest and mixing with my blood.

I felt myself fading and I frantically tried to cling onto that thought and stay with you, "I..." my voice croaked, painfully. "I love..." I couldn't manage the rest, I was too tired, in too much pain.

"I know," you told me quietly, your tears breaking through your voice as you reached out and touched my cheek tenderly. "I love you, too."

Wasn't this a nice cliche? Spending the last moments of my life telling the woman that I love, but haven't been able to be with, goodbye? It would make a good movie, probably will some day. When a good bust goes bad, and all that fun stuff, if it was for the guys. A fallen hero tells the woman he has loved for years, secretly of course, how much he really feels for her- just as he takes his last breath, like something off of Lifetime. Tragic, but entertaining, right?

I vaguely remember smiling at the last thing you said to me, as my eyes drifted shut. "No!" you yelled out to me. "Don't go! Damn it, Elliot, don't you dare leave me! Not now." Your voice broke and I wished that I could hold you and make things right again, "...Not now..."

The shrill cry of a bus filled my ears and I gloomily thought about how ironic it was that they were only a few minutes too late. "Good... bye." I stammered.

I looked at you one last time, burning every pore and every eyelash into my mind, holding onto it as I slipped away... And then, then it was over.

XXXX

Am I in Heaven? I wondered as I regained my consciousness, or at least what appeared to be consciousness. Did such a thing even exist in the afterlife?

For some strange reason, I couldn't open my eyes. They were too heavy it seemed. In fact, everything on my body felt like lead. Funny, I figured that in Heaven I would be weightless rather than 1,000 pounds. Something to my left shifted, sounding very much like the crackle of a hospital bed, and everything was suddenly clear to me.

I was alive.

Whatever it was at my side moved once more, and a low groan filled the air, I decided right then and there that it was the most wonderful sound I had ever heard. It was you. You're voice, your discomfort, you were with me.

I tried to speak, but once again found it impossible and my throat suddenly started to burn. I could feel my heart beat increasing and I knew it was bad as soon as the alarms on what I assumed was a heart rate monitor sounded. You gasped and the abrupt movement told me that you had lifted your head from where it had laid on the good side of my stomach.

"Elliot..." your voice was smooth but it was scared and it was desperate and I wanted to calm your fears, but couldn't. I couldn't do anything, it was like I was frozen and the world was passing me by, you were passing me by, and all I could do was sit and listen. Sit, listen, and pray.

Different sets of footprints were what I heard next, then a doctor shouting about taking out the tube. I vaguely wondered if that meant I had a tube in my throat, and that was why I was having trouble breathing, but that thought only lasted until the burning turned to stinging as it was pulled from my trachea.

I gasped for air when it was gone, feeling the rise and fall of my chest slowing a bit, and then settled into a fit of coughs. Still, my eyes would not open. It only took a few seconds before your hand found mine and you gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You're alright, Elliot," you promised me, finally starting to believe it yourself. "I'm here... you're fine."

Yeah, I thought bitterly, tell that to my burning throat and my eyes that wouldn't open and the sharp, stabbing pain in my stomach. On the other hand, I was alive and I was alright and you were there with me, so I knew that everything was going to be ok.

Some doctor said something about putting some kind of drug into my IV to allow me some more rest. I wanted to yell and I wanted to scream that I did not want to go to sleep, I wanted to see you, but I couldn't. My throat was still sore and dry and I knew that I wouldn't be talking for a good long while. But my eyes... at least I could see you.

I fought with them for the longest time, they wanted to stay closed, they wanted to sleep some more. I didn't want to, I wanted you, I needed you. The only thing that I could see in my mind was your face, panic stricken and tear stained. In the end, I won, and they blinked open, cursing me when the light caused them to snap shut again. A few seconds later I was certain I could open them and not be in pain, so I did.

There you were, staring at me, relief settled on your face but concern dancing in your eyes. I love those eyes, they're dark and mysterious and gentle but at the same time they could be cold and harsh, and unfortunately I had been on the receiving end of those eyes too many times. Not today though, today I saw something in your eyes I had never seen before.

I saw love.

"It's ok," you swore. "Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

So I listened to you. Or maybe, I gave in to what my body really wanted. My eyes closed, now that I was content that you were alright, and it didn't even take three minutes before the drugs sent me into a blissful oblivion.

XXXX

When I woke next I had no feeling of tiredness, no burning in my throat, and no problem with opening my eyes, although the brightness of the room did bother me for a few seconds, again. When I did open them, I saw you, sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair, leaning over my bed, your head resting on my thighs and your hand still holding mine. A wonderful way to wake up, I thought, and I watched you for a few minutes. God, I must have done something right in the past few months, because I really didn't deserve this.

I tugged at my hand, figuring that was the best way to wake you, since I wasn't completely sure I could talk just yet, and you lifted your head sleepily, eyes blinking open and staring at me. It took a few minutes for you to really wake up, and when you did, your eyes brightened and you nearly jumped out of your seat. "Oh my God," you breathed out, sitting up straight in your chair that you had pulled closer to my bed.

"No," I told you, my voice scratchy and strained. "I'm Elliot."

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth and I found myself thanking the Lord for whatever it was he thought I had done so well, even though for the life of me I still hadn't figured it out. "Ha ha," you said sarcastically, although I knew you had thought I was funny. "How do you feel?"

"Like I was just run over by a semi," I replied, with a bit more ease than my first statement had been. My throat wasn't burning any more, it was just a bit dry.

"What do you remember?" you questioned, not yet in detective mode, but out of the genuine curiosity that came with being a cop, or maybe a woman. I'm not sure if there's a difference between the two.

"The warehouse," I croaked out. "Peter O'Dell, kidnaped two fifteen year olds... we thought," I had to stop and cough, but then went right back to telling you what I had remembered. "...We thought that he had brought them there."

You nodded, "He did. They were. We found them. They're fine."

"O'Dell?" I asked, although I was already fairly certain of the answer.

You shook your head, a reserved look clouding your once bright eyes. "What happened?" this was concern, not curiosity.

"Bastard came up behind me... hit me with something," I explained. "...I turned around... there was a gun and then there was a bullet in my stomach."

You frowned, your eyes still dark with worry. "Did you see anything?"

I reached out to you, cupped your cheek into the palm of my hand, and smiled as best I could. "I saw you."

XXXX

A/N: Alright, so tell me- did it suck horribly? Am I an idiot for even thinking of the idea? Was it good? Did you hate it? Did you love it (and I hope you did!) Please let me know, feedback is my life! I hope you enjoyed my randomness, but if you didn't, please don't be too harsh with me.