Marie was really, really dreading this day. Hank's boss had called, asking if she'd wanted the opportunity to go through his belongings from his desk. It was a thoughtful gesture, and she knew he meant well. But for her, this was the last thing she wanted to do.

The past two weeks had been a blur...a nightmare in which she found herself unable to wake up. It was the same thing every goddamned day...wake up, look for her husband, remember that he really was dead, and never coming back to her...she'd cry and go through the motions of trying to just make it through the day. At night she'd go to their room to grab a pair of pajamas, only to be reminded that she would never, ever, ever share her bed with Hank again. And as in the mornings, she'd cry and cry and cry, unable to know just how to process what was now her reality.

So by going to his office, for the final time, to clear out his desk...not only would his presence still linger around that area, she'd really be reminded more of how wonderful Hank had been, how heroic, how he'd given his life to protect innocent people from the hands of a madman. The one life he couldn't save, in a bitterly ironic twist, had been his own.

His boss had kindly offered to bring Hank's belongings to her. But Marie, even through her grief, knew that she owed it to her husband to go for herself. She had to take in his surroundings, his environment, his still-lingering presence. (He'd been such a larger-than-life personality that Marie knew that Hank Shrader would be a hard, hard man for anyone to ever forget.)

So as she sat in her car, she held on tight to the door handle. All she had to do was to exit the car. It was that simple. Or it should have been that simple.

But yet again, she would be forced to say goodbye to Hank, and to permanently leave part of him behind.

Her breathing steadily and rapidly increasing, suddenly she found it quite difficult to take in any oxygen. Marie tried to roll down the window, but the damn lever was stuck. So she started the car and cranked up the air, and started trying to push with her hands the flow of air coming from the vents. The air couldn't come fast enough.

My God, it was hot in there. It was like she was in hell, physically and emotionally. Her chest aching, her throat tightening, Marie put her hand around her throat, wondering if she could massage it in order to relieve the tension that was forming around that area. But it didn't matter what she did-she was drowning in her own panic and discomfort.

Marie tried calling out for help, but not a noise could come from her mouth. She looked around, frantically waving for assistance. But none could be found.

Beads of sweat were now forming around her eyebrows.

She was dying. There was no other explanation. Apparently she really, truly just could not go on living without Hank.

And then it all stopped.

The coolness of the vents hit her face, drying up the sweat beads. Her throat relaxed, and she coughed, trying to just make sure she actually still was alive.

Once she did have that realization, she was more than a little disappointed, honestly.

Looking around, Marie realized where she was at, and then started breathing audible sighs.

Images of Hank struggling to breathe came to mind. There was the time he'd been driving and he'd crashed into a fenced in yard. At Marie's insistence, Hank had gone to the ER, only to be diagnosed as having had an anxiety attack. According to what Hank had admitted to the doctor, and previously unbeknownst to her, it hadn't been the first time that had happened to him.

Tears filling her eyes, the thought of Hank struggling with such scary experiences, unable to confide in her...dealing with his fear of the unknown, the possibility of being hurt on the job...only for the unthinkable to happen to him...

She should have been there for him, no matter how much he'd protested.

Marie was his wife, and it should have been up to her to make sure he didn't struggle, to go through his fears alone.

She'd tried, but it wasn't enough.

In the end, Hank had still lost his life, and Marie faced the knowledge of spending the rest of hers without him by her side.

The reflection of her wedding band in the side mirror caught her eye. She pulled her hand in front of her, examined the ring, her eternal symbol of Hank's love for her, and as she cried, she'd never felt more alone in her life.

She would go in and gather his belongings. She owed him so much- his support, his forgiveness, his providing a wonderful life for her, his affection and always teasing her about her being too good for him...it was never more clear to Marie than at that moment that it was she who truly had never deserved Hank.

And she would never get a chance to tell him.

tbc