Jenny

SHE knelt next to her husband's torn, bleeding body as the helicopter flew away. There was little left of him that was recognizable. She gripped his hand, feeling his talons gently wrap around her fingers.

"You did it, Randall," she whispered. The tears were running down her face, and her shoulders shook from sobs. "You saved us."

He blinked, tried to say something. All that came out was a low growl. Jenny cast her eyes down his body, looking at all the tears and gouges. He wasn't bleeding as badly as before. Either he was almost out of blood, or...

Healing. These creatures had accelerated healing powers.

"Bite me," she told her husband.

His eyes got wide.

"Take my blood, Randall. It'll revive you."

She pressed her wrist to his teeth. It would turn her into a dracula as well, but that was okay. They would be together. Maybe Clay was right, and they could find Moorecook and a cure. Jenny closed her eyes, waiting for the pain.

She felt his breath on her arm, but the bite didn't come.

Instead there was only the faintest brush of what remained of her husband's lips.

A kiss.

"Please, Randall. It's the only way."

Randall gripped Jenny's arms--

--and shoved her backward.

Jenny fell onto her ass.

"Damn it, Randall!" she yelled. "Stop being so goddamn stubborn!"

She crawled back to him, figuring if she crammed her hand down his mouth she could force him to bite down. But as she brought her fingers to his mouth, Randall caught her wrist. His eyes were glassy.

"Nuuuhhh," he said, shaking his head.

And then Jenny fell apart. Great, wracking sobs shook her body. She'd spent her entire professional career being strong in the face of death. Compartmentalizing grief. Priding herself on being practical rather than emotional.

But this was more than she could bear.

"You son of a bitch," she sobbed. "You can't die. Please, please, please don't die."

Randall reached up, held her hands. A monster's hands, but they still had the calluses.

Still had the warmth.

They held each other, for the last time.

"Remember the first day we met?" Jenny said, her face a veil of tears. "You came into the ER, your arm all swollen, and you asked me out on a date while you were getting your X-ray. You had a broken arm, but you were still flirting with me. I thought you were so brave."

She touched a part of his face that wasn't all ripped up.

"And you are," she said, smiling through her tears. "You're the bravest, sweetest man I've ever met. I was so wrong to leave you. I wish we could start all over. I wish I could erase all of that time we were apart, and instead fill it up with all the good memories we missed out on. But I never stopped loving you. Never. Being your wife was the best thing I've ever done in my life."

Jenny leaned over and kissed his forehead.

"I love you, Randall Bolton."

She continued to hold his hands long after he'd stopped holding hers.