She was in the middle of stocking the dusty old shelf with books when it hit her. She barely had time to descend the ladder she had been standing on, before she was completely incapacitated. It seized her with a force that she had never known before. The emotions were fresh, real. Terror. Grief. Anger. The intensity of the emotions that were striking her down were so sharp, they nearly shattered her fragile consciousness.

It buried her with it's power, completely camouflaging her. She was no longer. They were one. She became part of him. As if given sight for the first time, they looked all around them.

Sparse furniture. Bright lighting. There were people all around. Chairs, bright plastic. Orange and uncomfortable. They were pacing around. There was so much inside, so much pressure. So much to be released. But it couldn't be.

"Don't worry. He is a survivor. He will make it through this." There was a voice behind them. It was muffled, distorted, as though they were under water. They turned around. A figure, an outline of someone was before them. It was fading away from her. She was again. Barely, but enough for their vision to being to fade into her vision. She could still feel the razor sharp terror. The sorrow.

"Don't blame yourself. You couldn't have known." The person was trying to console him. It wouldn't work. She knew that. From what he was feeling, what she could feel of him, the pureness of the despair could not be appeased, not by those words alone. Another person was walking up to them. The feelings of anxiety rose, causing her stomach to cramp with the force of the nervousness. The person came closer, and question rose forth, crying for an answer.

"I'm so sorry." It was so final. It opened the gates, releasing the tidal waveof grief. Total desolation. She cried out with him. She felt every moment of his agony. The internal struggle to maintain control over the feelings, the pressure mounting up, became intolerable. Still connected, she released it for him. She sobbed uncontrollably for him, freeing the pain that he would not.

"He can't be dead. It's impossible." Someone was talking, trying to find meaning. The words were mere echoes, it was losing it's ferocity. It was slipping away from her, gradually. The sight was the first to go, followed by feeling. She was no longer him; she could feel him no longer. The connection was gone. But the echo, the echo of his inner thoughts, his inner grief, a pitch so shrill, so sharp and so full of pain, reverberated through out her for long after.

Fetal position. She awoke in the fetal position. Her eyes were swollen from crying, her fists clenched and cramped from tension. Sadie was standing over her, shaking her, concerned for her. "Beth? Oh god Beth, what's happened?" the soft voice was asking as she bent down beside her. It took Beth a few moments to remember where she was or what was happening. And the flood of memories, broken and distorted after the connection left her, hit her, pillaging her strength.

"It was him," she whispered. Sadie relaxed as this news greeted her. Then she realised that something didn't fit with the scene before her.

"If it was him, then why do you look like you saw something horrible?" she asked cautiously, knowing full well that the answer could be that Beth had seen exactly what she was describing. She helped Beth to her feet. The young woman was weak, shaken. Her hand was trembling as she reached out for the reassuring solidity of the heavy self beside her.

"I didn't just see it this time, Sadie. I felt it," she was saying. Sadie was immediately struck by those words.

"That's not possible. You've never felt it before, have you?" she asked, clearly worried.

"Only with him. Don't look at me like that. I didn't tell you because it would upset you like it is now. And I can't shut him out, so please don't tell me to," Beth said, as she made her way to the back room, to the familiar old couch, supported by the wall and Sadie's patient arms.

"Beth, this is dangerous. If this…thing that you do is growing stronger, it can consume you," Sadie was clearly concerned. Beth's head was aching, and Sadie's words just sharpen the pain that was throbbing within her skull.

"It's always just him. It's always been so joyful. So happy. Love isn't something you find everywhere you go, but I can see it with him. It radiates from him, all around him. His family, his friends. He is surrounded by it. How can I shut that out?" Beth asked.

"What happened that upset you?" Sadie asked, ignoring Beth's reasoning. She was regretful after asking it, as she watched Beth's amber eyes cloud over.

"Pain. There was such pain, Sadie. Something horrible will happen to someone he loves and it will tear him apart. He will feel that pain. And there is nothing I can do to help him. Nothing," Beth said, withdrawing from reality as the heavy burden she carried around with her, her dreadful responsibility, became an unbearable load for her to shoulder. Sadie was beside her in an instant as the large tears began to fall from her worried eyes, knowing the force of this connection would affect Beth for days.