Can't be happening

[booney]

Boone woke up that morning and wanted to check on Shannon. He didn't really talk to her that much yesterday, and he just wanted to make sure that she was alright. Boone tried to call her cellphone, but she didn't answer. All he received was her voicemail. He left message after message. Shannon usually answered her phone, and it worried him because she didn't. She always had her phone.

Taking a trip to her apartment, he knocked on the door and waited, but she never came to the door. Boone unlocked the door with his key and walked on in. He checked everywhere. Shannon wasn't there. It looked like she didn't even get home last night. Probably found some guy he thought. Although, Shannon wasn't really the one night stand types. Sure, they had one. That night's memories came flooding back and he shook his head. Why couldn't he let go?!

Boone left her apartment, and received a phone call. He just listened carefully as the man on the other end spoke. Boone couldn't believe what he was hearing. Shannon..... she wasn't there. She wasn't ever going to be there again. At first, Boone couldn't move, and the phone was still at his ear. Finally he ended the conversation by pressing end on the phone and jumped in his car. He flew to his apartment.

Arriving at his apartment, he angrily opened his door. Boone started to throw things everywhere. This couldn't have happened. She couldn't be gone. No. This was just a nightmare. He was dreaming. Angrily, he threw every book off his bookshelf and then tossed chairs upside down. "Damn it," he yelled. Boone never got the chance to tell her what he needed to tell her. He needed to go ahead and get it off his chest, but she wasn't there to hear it. He screamed again and then he broke down.

Boone couldn't help himself. Tears started to flow, and he didn't bother to stop them. The only person that he loved, was gone. How and why did it happen!? Why not him? Why couldn't he have been the one instead? Boone trashed his bed during his break down.

Climbing back down the stairs, Boone had his jaw set tight as he got back in his car and headed towards the Stone Pony. He was going to have to do something about this. Boone was going to find who did this, and he was going to make them pay.

Taking a seat at the Stone Pony, Boone ordered a whole bottle of liquor, and started taking shot after shot.

[Ana-Lucia Cortez]

She was living her life as if it was on autopilot, a mindless zombie that went through the motions but didn't take a moment to get a good look around her. Though, she didn't bother to go to into work today at the airport. No, instead she took of, told them she needed some time off, some time to clear her head, like it was any use. Surprisingly, the people in charge had been understanding, giving her the next two weeks off, no doubt seeing the reports on the television about her boyfriend. Personally, she wanted to tell them all to fuck off. She didn't want to be bothered. By reporters, people, friends, family... and certainly not ghostbusters over in her business.

Which was probably why it wasn't the most logical place to be at her bar. It was public, and a few people were hanging around inside. Though, they didn't bother her in the way she didn't want to be bothered with. They just asked for drinks and went on their merry little ways. She couldn't ask for anything better. Though, as much as she wanted to, she didn't join them into their charade of drinking, she wanted to be alert, she wanted to stop seeing things that were there one minute and gone the next.

It was all in her mind, she knew, she tried. She wasn't seeing anything. It was just her mind playing tricks on her, she knew, because there wasn't any other logical explanation. Her guilt, her self-loathing was getting the better of her and there was no way to stop it. Well.... maybe a good night's sleep would do the trick, but even attempting anything near it was impossible. She couldn't sleep and even if she tried it was anything but restful. Images both famiiar and foreign. Thoughts of sand... salt.... blood... death. Flickers of images that she couldn't place. It was irking her beyond all reason.

It had even gotten worse after seeing some report in the news earlier about one of the passengers of flight 815 turning up dead. She had remembered seeing the man come in a few nights ago, acting all strange in his drunken stupor, and it irked it in a way she couldn't describe in words about it. And at the same time, she didn't know why it bothered her so much. Something was there... but nothing ever wanted to come to mind.

Though, she pressed on with her life, ignoring it as she always did, just continuing on with the motions.

Finishing cleaning one of the glasses, she put it in the rack off to the side of the small sink, glancing over to one of the guys that took a seat and ordered without question. Just going at, like she had previously, though had stopped because it wouldn't numb the pain that she was feeling, the insecurity of it all. Briefly, she had wondered what would make a guy, who looked rather upset in her opinion. Go at it like that, but she didn't ask. She wasn't going to ask about his problems, she had enough dealing with her own to open another unwarranted thing, unless he really needed. Then maybe she might.

Sighing, she moved over to the man, sidling up to the counter. "You need anything else?" she asked him, asking the same question she asked pretty much everyone else that walked into the bar.

[booney]

Boone kept thinking that he should have made Shannon come over to his place last night. If he would have made her come over, then she wouldn't be dead. He could have prevented her from being gone. He could have, and should have done something! Boone should have walked her home, then maybe her attacker wouldn't have killed her. Maybe he could have saved her, and died in her place while she ran. If he could switch places with her, he would.

He kept turning up shots. Boone didn't care how much he drank. He just wanted to become numb to the fact that she was gone, however that didn't seem like it was coming fast enough. The thought of her never calling him in the mornings, telling him about her nightmares, and him going over to comfort her, would never happen again.

Boone's eyes had lost the shine that they had. They were a pale blue instead of the bright ocean blue they usually were. His life had just been turned upside down, and there was no way that he could repair it.

Glancing up to the bartender, Boone shook his head. "I do need something else, but you can't bring it back," he said. He turned his attention back to the bottle. He had to find a way to cope, and drinking was number one on his list. Maybe he would stay drunk, and stay numb to the feeling that he was now empty.