Carter didn't feel anything. Absolutely nothing. Terry had been the only person he had ever allowed to wake feelings in him and her death had been the only one he had ever been willing to mourn. Otherwise he had simply unwound, switched them off. The truth was, that he couldn't bear to permit them now, but he never would've admitted that even to himself, since had always though himself to be strong and the others weak. He had been hating Alex all his life. First for the simple fact that he was existing, then for his premonitions, with all the bits and pieces. Guys like him just pissed him off and he would never be able to understand how those jerks managed to be so happy nevertheless. Them idiots. He stared at Alex' jacket that he was still holding in his hand. Then glanced at Clear. Her head was lying on Liz' legs, who was stroking her hair, her eyes staring into space. Now and then Liz wiped away the tears rolling down her own cheek. If it was good to cry? He didn't know. She turned her head as if she had felt his look and forced herself a smile. "I'm sure – in a while - he's going to be okay."

"Why are you crying then?"

She shrugged and passed her hands over her eyes. "Dunno. They are just dropping." She would of liked to ask him whether he ever cried, but didn't. After all they weren't that close friends.

Carter stared towards her direction thoughtfully, without really seeing her. Until now his only problems had consisted in keeping himself and the others alive. So that fucking fate wouldn't win. Save the others to stay alive himself. And therefore only. That was the most important. Clear hadn't been right. There were times he wished he'd never gone for Alex and instead of would've stayed on the plane with Terry. But in the end his damn obstinacy won. He was never going to die. Only if he decided that it was time. Otherwise the three others didn't mean anything to him. But slowly something had begun to stir inside of him: faint doubt.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get this terrible picture out of his head. It had been a nightmare down in the hall. People ran around, screaming and crying and Carter had thought them to be the typical hystericals and couldn't understand why they were so scared since nothing had happened to them. Only then he had realized that the parts of the destroyed cabin must have caused other people's death as well. For a split second he could see a cruel glimmer of hope; if Alex' theory had been right, those people couldn't have died shortly after him, killed the same way, if - This meant his friend still had to be alive …. But then the paramedics and the firemen had brought him out of the mess of debris and cables and dust, his eyes staring blankly, surely seeing nothing of what was happening around him. The paramedics who examined him, now shone a little lamp into his eyes, constantly murmuring, just a loud that Carter was able to still understand the words. "Low pulse, no breathing, pupils fixed and dilated." He glanced at his colleague as he continued. "Coma."

Trying to escape the usual fight in his mind; his stubbornness versus his …. No, actually it were the two sides of the same mulishness, he started to leaf through one of the magazines, unable to concentrate on the single articles. He took another one, took a quick look at the contents and then reached out for the next one. Who the hell wanted to read boring articles about the new air safety law, famous people's gravestones, Spanish cooking, shark attacks or the illegal possession of firearms in a situation like that? Throwing the mags back on the table he spilt his coffee. The dark brown liquid spread out over the table, steeping some of the papers, before it reached the edge and started to run down on the ground, the single drops soaking into the carpet, leaving dirty splodges on it. As if there wasn't anything more interesting than that, he leant forward to watch the occurrence, intending to distract, but his brain wouldn't stop brooding, thinking of the future. Where the hell was all of this leading to? Would he spend the rest of his life like that? What a prospect! It had to stop, it just had to. Whatever had happened – or was going to - to Alex mustn't have been in vain. But a single phrase kept turning round and round in his head, like a record. This is not the end. This is not the end. This not

He closed his eyes.


To All My Wonderful Readers

To all my wonderful readers, still I thank you so much for reading my story, your lovely reviews gave me the strength to carry on (I know that sounds corny, but I mean it):

Beach: My first reviewer ever, do I really have to explain what that means? I dunno how dared to remove ur review. Shame on them! (The next day: I swear that ur review wasn't there when I wrote that yesterday, but just put it back. Better if, muahahaha)

Dharke: Thanks a million for all the cool comments on my fic and for all those funny mails! You know that without ur help I maybe never would've been able to post my stories at all.

dyingdread: I still wanna know what exactly u meant with that comment about Jesus :o)

Kazuha-chan: Vielen Dank, daß Du diese 'Scheiß-Geschichte' liebst! :o) Wie war's übrigens in Rumänien?


'It was a Monday, when my lover told me
"Never pay the Reaper with love only"
what could I say to you, except "I love you"
and "I'd give my life for yours"
I know
We are
We are the lucky ones
I know
We are
We are the lucky ones, dear'
Bif Naked: 'Lucky'

Which part of the song reminded u first of Alex & Clear? Mine was, of course, the most obvious one 'I'd give my life for yours'. What will ur story be about, I mean, will it be an FD fic as well, cause u sounded as if?

princess_diva06: Finally I managed to update, I still can't believe it. :o)

I can't believe I was finally able to end this fic, but some power must have had enough sympathy for me to let me. So if u still haven't lost ur faith in me and are interested in some more FD-stuff, there's a sequel to the sequel and I'd be glad if u'd R&R :o))