SPOILERS: Up to and including episode 4x07 Till We Have Built Jerusalem.

DISCLAIMER: The 4400 and any associated characters are not mine.

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It was just after two AM and Diana was dead. Tom was holding her jacket in his hands and looking at the clock. Diana, he supposed, was being prepped for an autopsy, although he could tell them exactly what killed her: a bullet, in the chest. There wasn't a need to cut her open to determine that much.

Somewhere, in the background, there was a buzz of voices and a push of people. They surrounded him and someone took Diana's jacket away and gently led him to a chair. Tom wondered where his cell phone was and thought perhaps he should call Kyle and let him know that Diana was dead. Or maybe Maia. Where was Maia?

"Tom," A loud voice was interrupting his thoughts. "Tom, I know it's hard but I need you to come in and make a formal statement about what happened."

It was Meghan, her face bobbing in front of his. Her hand was on his neck. What happened? -- Diana was dead. Shot to death. That's what happened.

"Maia..." Tom mumbled.

"She's okay, I've already sent someone over to the apartment to pick her up." Meghan assured him.

She's not okay, Tom decided. Her mother was dead. Nothing about that was okay.

---

Tom didn't recognize his own voice as he spoke into the small recorder. "I saw the gun and I yelled at her to get down," It was all so cliche, Tom thought. "The next thing I knew, a shot was fired and Diana was on the ground."

"And the shooter?" Meghan prompted.

Tom shrugged. "He ran away, into the park."

Of all the things that finally brought his partner down, it was a gun shot. It had nothing to do with promicin or people from the future; just an angry man with a small gun. The more he thought about it, the angrier Tom felt.

Meghan was still talking, asking questions. "Was Agent Skouris alive at this time?"

"I knelt beside her and tried to assess her condition. She was unconscious and barely breathing." She didn't even get any last words. Tom felt cheated in a way, he wanted to have a message to deliver to Maia from her mother. Something like, I love you so much or never let go of your dreams. "I called for help and started CPR."

"At any time, did she regain consciousness?"

"No." Tom replied and the word settled in his chest.

---

Maia was sitting in an office chair that someone had wheeled out into the hallway. She looked serene and so unworried that for a brief, horrific moment, Tom wondered if anyone had bothered to tell her. Her eyes locked onto him and Tom felt an uneasy sensation creep though him. Maybe he should make up some last words from Diana.

"Hi, Maia." Tom took a seat in one of the hard plastic chairs beside her.

Maia had a notebook on her lap and Tom supposed it was the one that she used to record her visions. "I know that my mom's dead." she said, laying Tom's fears to rest. "You don't have to tell me."

"I know, but I wanted to know how you were doing."

The notion that perhaps Maia had foreseen her mother's death made Tom feel sick. If he opened her book, would he find a childish sketch of Diana lying dead?

Maia took a shaky breath and Tom felt a bit relieved. Perhaps she wasn't as calm as she looked. "I had a vision," she whispered. "About mom."

Tom remembered holding Diana's hand in his and feeling her slip away. "Did you see her die?"

Maia shook her head. "No," she answered. "I saw her come back to life."

---

Tom stepped out of the shower and scrubbed his face with a towel that he'd found on the floor. It was after five AM and Diana had been dead just a few hours. Downstairs, on his couch, Maia was sleeping. Against his better judgment, Tom had taken her home.

With the dirty towel wrapped around his waist, Tom made his way to the bedroom and quickly changed into old jeans and a t-shirt. The towel fell to the floor and he kicked it under the bed. Tom was tired but he didn't want to sleep. He wanted to shake Maia, wake her up and demand more details about her vision. But he wouldn't do that, so instead, he sat on the edge of the bed and thought. Thought about life and death and Diana.

It was a few nights after Diana had invited him over for a meal of overcooked pasta. The night that he'd awkwardly flirted with her and wanted to kiss her and probably would have if Maia hadn't walked in with her drawing that led them to Collier.

She had Maia back, safe and sound and he at least knew where Kyle was and that he was safe, for now. They were sitting across from each other in their office. She was finishing a report and he was playing solitaire, under the pretense of paperwork. Diana hit a key on the keyboard with an air of finality and stretched back in her chair. Across the room, the printer hummed to life.

"Done," she proclaimed with a flourish. "How's your game? Winning?"

"What?" Tom had been startled that she knew.

"I know that you're not working." Diana was smirking, the corners of her eyes crinkled.

Knowing that he was busted, Tom hung his head and chuckled. "Lost every time."

Diana stood up to grab her report from the printer. The back of her blouse was wrinkled, Tom noticed and her hair was escaping from the elaborate twist she'd had it in. "You should make it easier to win."

"Hmmm?"

"Your game, you can change the settings and make it easier to win. Draw one card instead of three."

"Takes all the fun out of it." Tom replied. He'd missed this -- the easy conversation with Diana.

With a practiced hand, Diana slipped her report into a folder and neatly labelled it. Then, she glanced at her watch. "After 1:00," she announced. "You should have gone home hours ago."

An empty house or an office with Diana. It wasn't much of a decision for Tom. "Yeah, well, you know how it goes."

Diana nodded and this was where Tom's memory went hazy. He recalled Diana pressed against him, whispering something in his ear about the question April had asked him a few weeks ago. Tom didn't remember saying much of anything beyond a groan.

What he did remember was the warm skin of Diana's back as he slipped his hand under her blouse. He remembered the taste of her as he kissed her. Her nipple as he brushed a thumb across her breasts. Diana was all he knew and he had pressed her against the desk and slipped between her legs.

"Tom?"

Tom looked up and saw Maia hovering in the doorway. "Hey, I thought you were asleep." he chided.

"I was but I know that you want to know about mom."

Tom nodded. "Tell me." He patted the bed beside him and Maia sat down.

Maia told a story about a woman who had taken promicin and her ability was that she could raise people from the dead. She knelt beside the body, placed her hands on it and much in the same fashion as Shawn could heal the sick, this woman would bring back life.

Tom wanted to believe her, he wanted to believe that it was more than a story from a young girl who had lost her mother. "Where is this woman?" he asked. "Do you know?"

"She's with Jordan," Maia replied. "In his city."

"We need to find her."

"I know." Maia said. "She's expecting us."

---

The sun was rising and the morning rush hour was just beginning as Tom drove through the streets of Seattle. Jordan's compound had spread its boundaries another few miles and Tom parked the car several hundred feet from the beacons.

Maia had hopped out of the car and was walking toward the beacons. Tom hurried to catch up to her. They were about ten feet away when she stopped and yelled, "I need to see the one who can help my mom!"

It was silent, save for the distant hum of traffic. "Please!" Maia yelled again. "I need to see her!"

A few seconds later, an older woman appeared from behind a building. She had dark hair that was streaked with white and was carrying a small blue bag. "We need to hurry." was all she said as she crossed the beacons to join them.

---

A part of Tom felt this was wrong. Breaking into a morgue to have someone put their hands on the body of his dead partner. He wondered if Diana would have done the same for him.

"How does this work?" He asked the woman, whose name he'd found out was Linda.

Linda regarded him for a moment. "You've seen the way your nephew heals the sick."

"Yes and is that what you do?"

"I suppose," she answered. "Except it's a bit different."

Tom turned to Maia and stroked her hair. "I think you should wait out here."

Surprisingly, Maia nodded. Tom moved forward with Linda and opened the door to the morgue. "When you do this...do they come back the same way?"

A chill settled in Tom as they stepped into the cold room. "If you're asking me if the people come back as zombies, then no. They are as they were before."

Tom hung back and watched as Linda opened the drawer that held Diana.

Tom had known that they were alone but the thought that someone could walk in and find them sent a flutter of excitement through his stomach. Diana's breath felt cool against his hot chest and she moved slightly, taking a hand off his back to push a strand of hair from her face.

A part of him had been afraid that Diana would launch into a speech about how what they did was wrong and that they shouldn't talk any further about it. Instead, when he moved off her, she clung to him and again, pressed her lips against his.

"Better than those fantasies?" she murmured.

Tom had just laughed.

Linda calmly placed her hands on Diana's sheet covered chest and closed her eyes. Tom felt wobbly and thought he might be sick. A few seconds passed and nothing happened. And then another few and still nothing. Finally, after about a minute, Linda dropped her hands to her sides and stepped back.

"You should come to her." Linda said.

Tom stepped forward and looked down at Diana. Her eyes were closed and she looked much the same as she had the last time Tom had seen her. "Did you do anything?"

Linda nodded. "She's breathing."

Tom put his head down and turned his cheek to Diana's face. A small puff of air warmed it. "Diana..." Tom brushed the back of his hand against her forehead.

"Will she wake up?" Tom asked anxiously.

"When she's ready. You should take her home."

Tom gathered Diana in his arms and walked her out of the morgue.

---

Maia seemed pleased that her vision had been true and was sitting on her mother's bed, content to wait for her to wake up. Tom was on the phone with Meghan, who had demanded to know why he had been seen on camera, stealing his partner's body from the morgue.

Stealing a body. Tom was certain that would look good on his record.

Diana's apartment was small and Tom paced the kitchen a few times before settling down in a chair. He had stopped listening to his boss what seemed like hours ago. "I understand," he said. "And I'll come in later. No, there's no need to send Garrity over to get me. I'll see you soon."

Tom flipped his phone closed and set it down on the table. Down the hall, Maia slipped out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. Tom heard the door shut and stood up.

Maia had tucked her mom into bed and only the gentle rise and fall of Diana's chest assured Tom that she really was alive. He sat down beside her and ran his fingertips over the back of her hand. "I guess you can hear me," he said quietly. "I had to bring you back, Diana."

He paused and watched Diana breath in and out. "Maia needs you."

Another door shut and Tom realized that Maia had gone into her own bedroom. He ran a hand up Diana's arm and resigned himself to waiting.

Last night, he had taken Diana out on a Not Date. They ate at a restaurant with a candle and Tom held her hand under the table but it wasn't a date. They'd been having a lot of those since the night at the office. The Not Date was almost over and they were walking back to the car and that's when Tom had noticed the gun.

The man with the gun had seen them as well.

"Diana, get down!" Tom yelled and tried to reach for her.

She had been startled by his voice and turned around. That's when the shot was fired and Diana was on the ground. Two instincts battled within Tom; he wanted to pull out his own gun and chase down the man who had shot Diana but he also needed to stay with her and try to save her.

His own gun remained holstered and he dropped to the ground beside Diana. He pressed one hand against the wound on her chest and the other fumbled in his pocket for his phone. As the ambulance arrived, Diana died.

The sun had moved into the window when Tom woke up. He shook his head to clear his mind and his heart thudded as the day's events came flooding back into his mind. With a start, he sat up. The bed beside him was empty.

"Diana?" Tom stood up, feeling suddenly that everything he remembered with Linda had been a dream.

He stepped out of the bedroom and hurried into the kitchen. He stopped short upon seeing Maia and Diana sitting at the table, mugs of tea in front of both of them.

"Tom," Diana said. She was smiling. "You were sleeping and I didn't want to wake you."

"Did you want some tea?" Maia asked.

"Sure," Tom replied and as Maia stood up, Tom sat down.

"I'm fine, Tom." Diana said, as if she were reading his mind. "A little sore but I guess that's to be expected." Her fingers were splayed around the mug. "Maia told me what happened. It's hard to believe."

"To say the least." Tom managed to choke out.

He had watched her die and now she was drinking tea in her kitchen with her daughter as if nothing had happened. Maia set a mug down in front of Tom and he nodded his thanks.

"Are you okay?" Diana asked.

Tom nodded again. "I think I'm fine."

"Good." Diana said. "That's good."

Under the table, Tom felt a soft hand on his. He took it and squeezed it. Across the table, Diana smiled again.