"No..." she whispered, and slowly backed her way of his office. She just got outside, just far enough away from him when she broke down. She rested against the wall, trying not to cry. It hurt too much. She couldn't stop. One by one she was losing everyone. Jo, heroic to the last. Nico, taken away from her, somewhere safe. Safe without her. George, shot because of her, killed because of her, dead because of her. Malcolm - now retired, gone to lead a happy life, one that kept him out of contact with everyone on the Grid. And Harry... Harry had never seemed so distant, so far away than then. The pain of the last few weeks intensified, it was so painful, too painful. That people in the future wouldn't know who Jo was, wouldn't know that Jo had saved their lives on countless occasions. She just became a statistic. Born 1977, died 2009.
He could hear her crying again. It always seemed to be his fault that she was upset. She broke down the walls of his heart and made the pain of the loss feel ten times worse. Jo... Jo had been a great member of the team, a well rounded person who had made it through everything that had been thrown at her... until now. She now would just become a file to most people in MI5, a closed file at that. One that listed her achievements and failures in black and white, no emotion attached. One that didn't mention how she had supported the team, and had gone from strength to strength. In a years time, when most in MI5 thought of Joanna Portman, it would be the cruel facts and figures of her life. Born 1977, died 2009.
Every person they lost, every person that was taken from them was much more than a statistic. They were a friend, a colleague, a saviour in times of need. And they would never be forgotten. Because they were worth much more than that.