Summary: During Untethered. As he lay in Heaven he thought of his angel… BA

Author's Note: Short little fic set during Untethered. I finally saw it today and I loved it, beautiful acting by Vincent. Truly a great ep. Anyway this hasn't been beta'd and I hope you all enjoy this.


He felt the straps tighten.

He glanced around, trying to see his surroundings. He couldn't. He saw a pale green ceiling, and this horrific white light that glared down at him. He tried to lift his hand to shield himself, but couldn't. He glared at the light, and closed his eyes.

Damn restraints.


How long had it been?

Somewhere he knew it had been about two hours, but somewhere along the line his mind had drifted for a second to her. Was she worried? He hadn't called yet. What was she thinking? What was she wondering? He sighed; she wouldn't be worried – yet. He wasn't supposed to call for another two hours. He just wanted to call, but he had to wait, he had to let the clock tick.

Though time seemed non-existent here.


How many other people had been here before?

Too many, he thought bitterly, as he closed his eyes, to block out the light. He now wished he'd listened to the nurse. He tried to get up again, even though he knew it was useless. The restraints seemed even tighter then before.

But at least she wasn't here like this.


She'd be waiting.

He knew she would be, she'd be waiting for his call, waiting patiently for it. He needed to call, to let her know what was going on. But no guards had come, and he was pretty sure none were coming. They were leaving him in Heaven…

Without his angel.


This was madness.

This wasn't Heaven, this was Hell – it was that simple. He lay upon the steel table, gazing at the harsh white light, twisting side to side. He needed water, this wasn't right, how could they do this? He'd take his meds…just let him out! He needed out!

He needed her.


They still hadn't come.

They weren't coming, no matter how much he cried out, begged, they wouldn't come. Couldn't they see? Didn't they realise? He swallowed and regretted it as he was forcibly reminded of his parched throat. He blinked a few times, licking his lips with a dry thick tongue. He just wanted water.

And her.


They came.

He remembered the brief trickle of cold water that entered his dry throat. And now as he lay on the table, head in water, he truly hated them. This was all wrong. He had just wanted a drink…why? She wouldn't have done that, no matter who it was. They weren't cops, or guards, but demons.

And she was an angel.


The light seemed to blur.

His breaths were short, and he swayed to side to side, trying to break free. How long was left of this? Was she worried yet? He hadn't called; she had to be worrying about him. Please let her come, and save him.

But she didn't come.


He couldn't see her.

No matter how many times he tried to picture her, it slipt away like the water had. So he counted, the numbers flowing from him. Like a river…he shook his head, he couldn't think about water. Just the numbers…the numbers…one…two…

Where the hell was she?


They came.

He slumped against them, as they took him out of Heaven. It was such a relief; he was now free, he could move. But as they placed him on the thin mattress, he closed his eyes. He was safe now; even though she wasn't here…he was safe from Heaven for now...

And as he lay there, he saw her.

His Angel.

His Alex.

And that filled him with hope.