"Oh, honey..." Harry mourned as he knelt beside her, taking a few useless, holographic swats at both the vodka and the gun. "Please don't... not for me."

She watched the gun twist and flop in her right hand while she crawled her left over to the bottle and picked it up.

"Baby, don't..." Harry whined, pleading, running his matterless hands over her form, trying to push her, to get her attention, to show her he was there.

"She can't see you, hear you, or feel you," Al said quietly. "Sometimes invincibility is unpleasant."

"She can feel me," Harry countered in a soft, determined rumble. "She has to."

A tiny whimper came out of the woman as she dropped her chin to her chest. "Harry..."

"What baby? What... I'm right here. Tell me."

"Harry, where are you? Somebody get me out of this..."

"Honey, just put down the gun... we'll deal with the liquor later. You'll be okay. I'm right here."

Diane sniffled, picking her head up and bringing the gun to her eye level. "I didn't want to... I didn't know what else to do! If I can point it at you... if I could do that..."

"You didn't do anything wrong. I wanted you to."

Her whisper fell to the floor and shattered there as she touched the barrel to the hollow of her throat.

"I wish I could love you."

"Diane!" Harry started to lift his voice, praying she could at least feel the way the air seemed to burn around him. "Diane, please put the gun down!"

She was still whispering, still oblivious. "I love you..."

Harry shoved the heels of his hands into his eyesockets with a strangled grunt, twisting down on his skull until it hurt. Good! If he'd never see her again, there wasn't anything worth seeing anymore! Not if this was the way he'd have to remember her...

He waited for the shot. Waited to be bathed in her blood.

Bzzt... bzzt, bzzt, bzzt