This story is set in the future, a few years after the end of season four.

I do not own the characters from Flashpoint.


A moment in time



She watched as a lone rain drop began its slow descent down the window pane, trailing a unique pattern, collecting isolated raindrops as it passed, growing into a rivulet that danced downward. The lights from the city glinted and shone through the rain spattered window, distorting the city beyond. Blurring reality.

That's what she needed, to blur reality, because her reality in that moment was almost too painful to bear.

She glanced from her post by the window to check on the prone form laid out on the bed, she hoped to see some movement, some sign that he had awakened. But there was nothing, except the steady regular rise and fall of his chest.

Standing, sitting and waiting had become her reality since it had happened. If she could have the power to turn back time, she thought she might have changed the decision she'd made after she had been shot, when she'd put her job before them. Maybe if she had put them before her job, then, this might not have happened.

Regrets. She was full of those, but wasting time was her biggest regret. She should be an expert, realising that time should never be wasted; you never knew when the sand in the timer would run out. She had witnessed life extinguished in a second because of a choice someone made.

Slowly she walked over to the chair that had become home as she watched and waited for any change. She'd resigned herself to the fact that no news was good news. But she didn't know how long she could just sit there and wait.

She carefully reached forward, gently clasping his hand in hers; her thumb absently began to rub small circles on the back of it. She hoped that her touch would wake him. Just as she'd hoped every single time she'd grasped his hand since it had happened.

"Wake up," she begged quietly. "Please wake up."

Suddenly, the soothing repetitive beep that measured his heart rate became erratic. As she realised what was happening, panic began to swim through her as she rose to her feet, forcing her palm onto the alarm button above his head.

"No," she pleaded, as people hurried into the room.

This can't be happening, she thought as her fingers lost contact with his as she was forcefully ushered from his room into the stark white corridor of the hospital.

Instinctively she wrapped her arms around herself, desperately trying to regain control of her emotions. She couldn't break; he needed her, just as she needed him.

After what felt like an eternity the door to his room opened and his doctor emerged from the darkness. She couldn't determine the look that crossed his face. He stepped towards her, "Please take a seat," he requested.

She sank down into the chair, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't think she'd ever been as terrified as she was in that moment.