Counting Down

By: M14Mouse

Summary: Sam could never figure out why morgues were always downstairs.

Disclaimer: Don't own them.

The morgue was in the basement which didn't surprise Sam.

It was almost always in a basement…or in another building. People make excuses of course. It was all about the cooler temperatures preserve the bodies for examination. Mostly, he understood. They didn't have to think about it. It has been embedded into multiple cultures over the centuries. Most loved ones don't want the last image of them of them lying on a cold slab. Pale…unmoving…cut into pieces or already in pieces. They are wrapped in cloth, covered in branches, surrounded by cold metal or stuffed them away in body bags.

Out of sight, out of mind.

It is the last place that the dead should be but this is where the dead always came.

He sighed as he closed his eyes. The bitterness was getting to him again. His fingers pressed into the elevator buttons.

The elevator ride didn't take long. He could have taken the stairs if he wanted. Easier…..but the stairs gave him an escape. He could turn around and easy make an excuse on not to see Dom.

In elevator, there is only two ways to go.

Up or down.

You can't get around it.

The stairs could escape. You can go back and right out the door. Once you hit that button, you would face what you needed to face. Good or bad. Right or wrong. God, G would have a field day if he knew what he was thinking. He would nudge him in his own way or drove him nuts. Sometimes, a little of both…

But this time…G didn't say anything when he left for the morgue. He didn't ask if he could come with him. Although knowing G…he probably came earlier or later than him. G knew that sometimes, silence is golden.

But the silence here was….deafening. There were some noises like people typing on keyboards, people talking to themselves or to recorder…hell, even to their phones. Mostly, it was silence. It was a cold, unfeeling silence that seemed to chill you to the bones.

This was the last place that Dom should be.

He had such energy and life…reduce it to this. It wasn't fair. He knew that it was the dangers of their work. He saw it happen to many times to so many people. He didn't know why this death hit him so hard.

In the back of his mind, he knew that answer.

Dom was young. He still had a future.

He had a chance.

Watch to be taken away like that….

He stopped at the desk to talk to the receptionist. Did something have done many times before…sign that and this. Could I see your id and your badge? Someone will lead you there. Please wait. Right this way.

He felt like he walked a thousand miles when in reality, it was only few steps until he was lead into a room where Dom's body was held. It was room covered in metal and white walls. The coroner didn't say much as he pulled Dom's body from its metal drawer. He didn't say much when he left either.

He was left alone with Dom. His hands twitched as they moved forward the white sheet. He pulled the sheet to see Dom's face. First thing, he noticed that he cleaned up nicely. He almost looked liked that he was sleeping but he knew better. He knew if he lowered the sheet that he would see bullet holes.

He didn't know what to say. So, he stared for god knows how long stared at Dom's pale face.

He wanted to say a million things…a million different words to form a single sentence…or a thousand. He stuck to one sentence. One sentence that he said a million times before for a million different reasons.

He bowed his head and mumbled the words softly.

"I'm sorry, Dom."

End

A/N: This story was actually going to be part of a larger story that never came to be. So, I finished this and made a one shot. Of course, another part of this story did become a series that you guys know about…^_^ The Study of Verse. So, read and review if you wish.