* * *

“And I’m sure the view from heaven

Beats the hell out of mine here

And if we all believe in heaven

Maybe we’ll make it through one more year

Down here…”

Yellowcard

* * *

“Do you believe in heaven, Major?”

Startled, Sam’s elbows jumped from where they were resting on her lab bench, scattering various papers to the floor.  With a sigh, she reluctantly lifted her face from her hands, absently rubbing at her eyes as she turned to stare at her visitor.  “I’m really not in the mood for a theological debate right now, Jonas.”

Jonas, of course, didn’t seem to notice the irritation that pinched her voice, or the way she crossed her arms defensively across her chest.  With that ever-present and ever-annoying half-smile of his, he sat down uninvited on one of her lab stools and folded his hands calmly on the table.  “I don’t want to debate, I just want to know what you believe.”

Sam stared at him hard for a few moments before giving in.  “No, I don’t.”  Maybe now he’d go away.

He cocked his head slightly to the side.  “Why?”

Of course it wasn’t that easy.  “I have first-hand experience that indicates the contrary.”

His eyes widened.  “You mean, you’ve had a near-death experience?”

She blew out a carefully controlled breath.  “No, I mean I’ve died.  Listen, Jonas, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’d really like to be alone.”

Jonas regarded her silently, almost sadly, before getting to his feet.  Sam immediately felt guilty for dismissing him; she knew he meant well.  It was just that, no matter how hard he tried, Jonas could never be a replacement.  “I was so sure that we’d save him,” she murmured, mostly to herself.  Her throat closed unexpectedly over the words.

Jonas turned around.  “Sometimes people you care about die.  It wasn’t your fault.”

She looked up at him then, her eyes filling with tears and remorse.  “Maybe we didn’t care enough.”

“Major…you loved him with everything you had.  I know.”

“Then maybe that wasn’t enough.”

“It was more than enough.  When you care about someone, you want to believe that just by caring you can protect them.  But you can’t; all you can do is hope, and pray, and worry.”

“He can’t be dead.  Please.”  She was begging.  Her chest was tight, her head pounding.  Jonas was watching her sympathetically, and she wondered who he had lost that would make him understand.  She didn’t care.  Denial was the only thing holding her together, but suddenly denial wasn’t enough.  After a moment, Jonas hesitantly rested his hand on her shoulder.  Reaching up, she grasped his fingers so hard she thought she might break them, but he didn’t flinch.  “I can’t…”  Breathe?  Move?  Live?  “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

Jonas squeezed her hand gently.  “Then you’ll have to believe in heaven.”

* * *

fin