The darkness inside William's mind was thick and inky. In that place where memory and sensation war against what is real, what is present, William was still drowning. His lungs burned, and every bit of him felt as if the icy water was the prickle of tiny needles. He remembered fighting, for his life really, against broken glass and twisted metal. He could feel, still, that animalistic urge that propelled him upwards, that made him thrash and push and shove until he had used up what precious store of oxygen his muscles had retained. And then there was darkness, and quiet, and the strangest moment where the lights far above, over the surface, shimmered. William had thought of his son, then, realizing in some obtuse way that he wouldn't be there to see him grow into a man. And in that way in which time stands still, he remembered.

In an instant, a flash of color and life, he recalled how he had gotten here, and wondered what he might have done differently to avoid it. 

William had lost his wife the first time she caught him with someone else, a guy William had met at a bar of all places, while having drinks with his partner and a few other people from the precinct. The married detective hadn't realized his occasional, errant thought of appreciation for the male physique had run so deeply until he awoke the next morning with a killer hangover and the memory of his wife's face, twisted in shock and hurt. Divorce had been quick and simple because he hadn't fought her over anything - what right did he have? He got his kid every other weekend and for a month of summer, plus some holidays. She didn't ask for alimony, too proud for that, and so life had just shifted back into some strange version of bachelorhood. William was a damned good detective, and it had been easy to throw himself into his work, and that was how he had met Julian.

The cute little frat boy had been at the wrong place at the wrong time, on the witness end of a convenience store robbery-turned homicide. William had a hard rule about getting involved with anyone he met while working, but he couldn't really resist the overtures the college sophomore had eventually made when William kept returning with more questions, and more still. He was witty and smart, and beautiful in a way William had never allowed himself to consciously recognize as attractive. Perhaps most appealing was the fact that Julian was completely at ease with who he was, and it helped soothe the awkward uncertainty William felt about engaging a relationship such as this while sober. They'd quickly and easily fallen into a pattern that William could deal with. After all, the sex was great, and Julian seemed content with that and little more. Until he wanted more, anyway. William enjoyed his little friend, but he certainly wasn't in love with him. He missed all the blaring sirens that announced Julian's changing feelings for him, even when the young little thing began to push for more time, for things like public outings and movies and things that felt strangely like [I]dates[/I]. The detective tried to be a good sport about it all, but the day Julian had coaxed him to the farmer's market and conveniently ran into a cluster of friends there, to whom he introduced William as his boyfriend, complete with attempted hand-holding and all, William had to draw the line.

He'd miss those sleek little hips, but he had already failed at marriage, and had no real interest in doing this heartfelt stuff again. He was a generous lover, but that was all he had to give. And so he had carefully composed a brief e-mail to Julian, explaining that he just couldn't keep up anymore. Work and all, you know. It had been fun, and he certainly wished the college student well in all of his future endeavors. William had walked away from his desk that afternoon thinking it was all over, and he was more worried about figuring out who had sliced through an entire family on 4th St. than he was about Julian, or what he might do. When the kid had pulled up and asked him to talk, all teary-eyed and broken-hearted, William had felt a little guilty for his part in the whole debacle and had acquiesced. Maybe he could talk the boy down, help him see that William really wasn't good for him at all. There were much bigger fish in the sea, and all that. Except that Julian wasn't hearing it. His wild professions of love could not be thwarted and, realizing that William wasn't receiving it at all, the kid had decided that careening the vehicle off a bridge and into the icy river below was a better option than living without his detective lover.

Rather climatic end to a prolonged tryst, thus were the events that preluded William's stirring in this new place. He heard the sticky sweet voice of a female calling, and his mind grappled for consciousness. He awoke with a great gasp, expecting to find himself at the bottom of the river somewhere. Instead the sight that swam into focus was so wildly different that he couldn't even begin to parse together what was happening. He scrambled to his feet, one hand at his throat, as if the water would somehow swim back in again if he didn't protect it. 

"What the hell?" he managed, surprised to find that his voice sounded completely normal. And he wasn't wet. No, not at all. He was dressed as he had been before he had ever met Julian, jeans and a button down, his favorite jacket. But he was dry, completely dry, and his mind just couldn't wrap around this. This, or the woman standing nearby, or the others apparently stirring from their own slumber. Or the fucking castles in the sky, the damned colors that made no sense. It had been a long time since William had thought about God, or heaven, but if this place had a name - certainly it was that? But how the holy hell had he ended up here, if it was heaven?

"Where are we?" he said, more directly this time, less incoherent rambling.