They tried. She had to give them credit, they tried. They really loved her, and as much as she wanted to return the sentiment, to feel anything at all, she just couldn’t let herself. She was too far away, too trapped in the memories and the regrets to let anything good in. She didn’t even want to.

Helena put her in a hospital. It was nice, really nice, but no matter how lavish the surroundings or how kind and understanding the doctors and the therapists were, she couldn’t let any of it in. She couldn’t let herself be pitied. She’d never let Dana pity herself, and she wasn’t going to disobey her own rule.

They told her she was strong. They told her she’d made Dana’s last days happy. They told her that she had every right to grieve, but they never explained why she felt like she was floating above herself all the time. Why she couldn’t feel. Why Dana’s death had to all intents and purposes killed her too. And they told her that all of that was normal, and that eventually she’d heal. They called Helena and told her that Alice was ready to go home, that there was no more they could do for her. It had been a long time, and she didn’t feel any different. Just numb.

Helena and Shane were around, a lot. Almost a year after the phone call, Alice still couldn’t bring herself to pick up a phone. Any phone. Which meant that everyone just barged in on her. Not that it mattered, she just sat and stared at the wall. She had no idea how she was still able to have her apartment; she hadn’t worked. Buit somehow things were taken care of. One day, Alice finally registered Shane’s voice when she mentioned Dana’s will – almost everything to Alice, the rest to their friends and Dr. Love’s Foundation; the Susan G. Komen Foundation. Well, that explained that. But it didn’t make anything better.

They tried to set her up with someone, eighteen months after. Alice barely looked at her and didn’t say a word. The poor woman ran out of the Planet crying. Alice knew she should feel bad, but she couldn’t.

Helena asked her out, twenty months after. Alice couldn’t come up with an excuse as to why not. She went, and tried her best. Helena was great, and although Alice practically raped her she didn’t seem to mind. It seemed like it just made her sad, because she cried afterward. Alice couldn’t even feel enough to apologize, although she wanted to feel bad, because she did love Helena…and in another lifetime, it could have worked. But she was still floating.

Eventually, her wonderful friends stopped coming around as much. Helena was always there, but it was sad and awkward and fucking scary and Alice wished she’d leave. Eventually, she did to Helena what Dana had done to Lara, but now she didn’t have anyone to call afterward. She supposed that was fitting.

The letter was short, and in no way eloquent. She knew it was selfish, but she couldn’t do this anymore. Dana had told her where to go.

It was dark when she got to the waterfall. She’d left the keys taped to the underside of the car. It was in the note. She figured Helena was already tailing her out here anyway.

"I don’t have to fucking accept it. I won’t," she whispered as she stepped over, and she wasn’t sure to whom she was speaking. Might as well have been Dana.

I can’t do it anymore. You’re all so fucking wonderful, and I love you, but I can’t feel that. I can’t feel anything, and that makes it worthless. They say time heals, but it hasn’t healed me. I won’t let it, because if I do it means I accept Dana’s death. I’m not going to. I’m sorry. The Mini’s at Imalakaha…Dana loved that place, so that’s where I’m going. I really do love you and I’m so fucking sorry. Well, I would be if I could feel it.

They never found her, just the note, which led them to the car. And it was there that they had a memorial for Alice, a day after she’d jumped and almost two years since she’d passed away.