Title: Post-Provenance
Author: Passion
Keywords: DRR/Reyes/Doggett/Reyes POV/angst/post-ep fic
Summary: As the title says…Reyes' thoughts at the end 
of Provenence
Archive: All are welcome…please let me know first though.
Spoilers: Up to Provenence
Disclaimer: Not mine..sadly. Thank the Gods there at 1013 
Production for these folks
Author's Notes: my VERY FIRST FIC!!! Ever! Feedback 
welcomed with open arms!! Email me at 
passionjoshfan@hotmail.com Thank you to Karen (my fic 
hero) for taking the time to read through this work. 
You are the BEST!!! 


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Blue and red, the lights in the distance send my heart into 
spasms of erratic beats. 

Like a dream, the whirlwind of activity clouding my mind…  
I am having trouble thinking straight…

*Where is John? He said he would be right behind us….*

Red and blue. Oh god...  I wasn't wrong…  Something else 
has happened...  When will the madness end? 

Blue and red. They are flashing their ominous warning. 
When will it stop? Who is hurt now? 

In the dim light punctuated by those red and blue lights 
I turn instinctively to see if John  has arrived yet…  
The cars screeching and the sirens wailing…  Can't see 
what has happened…

And then time freezes. 

In that moment of utter clarity I feel my heart beat its 
last beat…. 

…and then I am no more. 

Frozen in the stillness of time… 

Distanced from the world around me… 

The red and blue no longer bother me, the wails of alarms 
and chaos of the people milling have no impact.  For a 
second I forget this madness and then with a wave of sound 
it hits me, a breaker against my body, shattering my heart. 

I see Skinner's face, and in that face I read the words I 
cannot say. My lips can only mouth one thing, the one word 
that encompasses my entire life, my reason for living….

"John?"  And already I know that things have changed. I 
am standing on a precipice….

Skinner mutters words that I can never hope to understand, 
that I cannot ever hear… 

*Where is John? He said he'd be right behind us…*


The paramedics are loading someone onto the ambulance, 
their empty faces showing no sign out of the ordinary. 
Acting as if what they load is just another body, another 
person…

I feel as if I am running, and have no breath to take 
in…  A scientific oddity…  I have run a marathon to the 
end of my life and have not had the life-giving oxygen 
to take in to get me there. If I could only give these 
last gasps to take me to him, to bring him back to me, 
to hear him say one more time, "Aw, Mon…," to tell him….

His eyes do not open. He is covered in the anonymity of 
sterile bandages and tubing. He is not mine anymore…  
Just a man hit by a car. 


Blue and Red. They illuminate his face, the one I so 
lovingly used to gaze at when I knew he wasn't looking…. 
The face which I held while he wept bitter tears for the 
son he could no longer know…  The face which has scolded 
me a thousand times over, and lit up my life when he 
smiled in good humor at another offbeat theory of mine. 


Red and Blue…  This is the only thing I have to remember 
him by. Everything has come down to this moment… Holding 
his hand while my life slips away… My body stained with 
his blood… No matter what I do, his eyes remain closed… 
And yet I can hear him... Or is that the sound of my own 
heart calling out for its other half? 

I turn instinctively.  *Where is John? He said he would 
be right behind us…* 

He always said he would be behind me, every step of the 
way…

These tears are no longer just for him...