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Miles Matheson [Revolution] (tornadoinsideme) wrote in somerealityrpg,

"I'm here," he assured her. "I don't know how. Hell, I don't even know where here is," all he knew was it was dark, and people were screaming. But he was here with Liz, and he knew everything would be all right.

It had to be. Either he was dead and she was with him in the afterlife, or...she had come into his subconscious to pull him out. That made just as much sense and was the preferred alternative because it meant she wasn't dead. She was awfully damn solid for being a figment of his imagination, though.

He could have gotten lost in the mess of thoughts rolling around in his head, but his hand sought the hem of her shirt, his fingers snaking under the material to where Noah had stabbed her. He wasn't surprised the wound was healed, he'd been the one to heal it after all, but his fingers traced the slight scar where the blade had sliced her skin.

"I'm not a ghost, Liz. I'm here."

It was a rather inopportune time to feel Michael's presence, but he felt it, felt Michael somewhere nearby, and yet entirely out of reach. He ignored it for the moment, preferring to focus on Liz and refute the idea that if they were both Dead maybe Michael was too.