Flatline
Title: Flatline
Rating: PG
Pairing: John/Eva
Summary: An angsty, John/Eva alternate ending to Reclassified.
Disclaimer: Not mine, although I'm willing to buy!!!!
Flatline
“He wants to see you.” Sara’s quiet, steady voice broke into Eva’s thoughts. She glanced up sharply from the dirty linoleum, barely registering her surroundings, and stared at Sara for a dazed moment, her eyes wide and blank. As the words sank in, she sucked her chapped, bottom lip in between her teeth, fear and anxiety rushing across her features.
Eva abruptly pushed herself up from the hallway chair, setting her jaw. She took a deep breath before walking determinedly into John’s room and shoving the curtain back beside his bed. Her shoulders slumped at the sight of him, pale and drawn, the familiar hospital gown loose on his once-imposing shoulders.
John’s eyes fluttered open at her sudden approach and a weak smile pulled vainly at his lips. “Hey, partner,” he murmured.
Eva smiled, putting on a brave front. “Hey.” She automatically slipped her hand into his, her smile turning faintly genuine at the light squeeze he gave it.
“Eva.” He sighed, his tongue darting across his dry lips. He briefly closed his eyes before continuing. “Eva, I’m dying.”
“No, you’re not. You’re going to be just fine.” Her voice sounded more commanding than reassuring and he leaned back further into the pillows to get a better look at her.
“It’s my time,” he said, stroking her hand with his thumb. She wondered at how he kept his voice so steady, remained so calm, when she felt as though she wanted to jump out of her skin.
“No, it is not. You’re young, Amsterdam! You still have a life to live!” Eva’s grip tightened on his fingers, her denial manifesting itself in her words, but not her actions.
An ironic smile flashed in his eyes as he said, “And this is the life I wanted to live, but you have to accept it, Eva. Please.”
“No.” Her refusal sounded final and defiant.
“Eva…” he warned, closing his eyes against the bright hospital lights and her refusal to accept what he was saying.
She sighed, fighting desperately against the tears. “Fine, John. What do you want me to do? You want me to cry my eyes out and say how much I love you and then die of a broken heart when you flatline?” she yelled, receiving angry looks from passing nurses.
“No.” He shook his head, wincing even at that small action. “But I want you to stop being so brave.” His voice quavered and her eyes instinctively flicked to the electronic charts on the wall beside her.
He brought a hand up to her cheek, forcing her to look him in the eye. He shot her a look he knew she had no defenses against and the tears gathering at the corners of her dark eyes poured from them, smearing her makeup across his fingers. She choked on a sob, not bothering to wipe the salty water from her cheeks, knowing there would be more.
Eva moved her hand from his, across his chest and leaned down to rest her forehead against the pillow beside him. She cupped his cheek in one hand, the other falling above them as she cried into him. John rubbed gentle circles on her back, turning slightly to press his face into her hair. She sat on the edge of the bed and lifted her face from the pillow so they were millimeters apart.
He held her tearful gaze with a tender eye, warming her from the inside out as she released a shaky breath. “John, whatever it is you’ve been searching for, I hope you find it,” she whispered.
He traced her features with a single finger, memorizing her for the first and only time. He dragged his thumb across her bottom lip before capturing it between his own. She let him in at the slightest request, tasting him while she still could. The kiss was sweet and familiar, as though they had imagined doing this a thousand times.
They separated just far enough for air, their noses still touching. “I already have,” he whispered against her.
Eva felt her heart break at the solid beep that followed his words. Medical staff surrounded her, pushing her away from the bed as they tried desperately to save him, but she heard none of it. Only the echo of his final words and the electronic sound that signified his end.
Tears obscured the red flatline.