Funerals are funny things.

In some ways, they're a lot like weddings – honouring a person instead of a couple; there are people reminiscing, and crying.

And just like weddings, not everyone cries. Alex can't, not today, but some days ago when he passed by a chip shop like they used to visit, he found a lump in his throat and his eyes prickled.

Strange how the smallest things can remind you of someone, but when you try to remember them properly you can't. When he tries to picture her now, even so soon after, all he gets is a glimpse of red hair, an unrestrained laugh, and an ache of something missing.

But it's worse for her parents. She left them when she was in college to study in Britain; she'd got a college job and the job gripped her until seven years had passed and she hadn't returned home. Alex feels a low, terrible guilt when her father speaks to him, just to see how he's getting on. If not for Alex, Jack would be asking.

And her parents don't know it's his fault – MI6 would never let them know the truth. Their red-rimmed eyes were kind when they came over to discuss the funeral.

They hadn't known her favourite songs, the ones she'd danced to in the kitchen while trying to cook dinner. They remember a precocious girl twirling around the kitchen to 'Walking on Sunshine'. He remembers a euphoric whirlwind swinging her hair, howling, "Let meeeeee entertain you!"

They decided on Robbie Williams' 'Angels'.

He hadn't known Jack had an older sister that she'd left behind, an older brother who'd been in the army.

At first Alex was apprehensive when he found out – would the soldier notice the traces of Intelligence Services in the story he'd been fed? But the man had merely given an enduring smile and his condolences, then left to console the sister who, despite looking completely different to Jack, still makes Alex pause when the sun reflects red glimmers off her hair.

Jack's family and family friends – she doesn't have any close friends of her own; just classmates she had in college before leaving to care for Alex full-time, and high school chums – all repeat that Jack wouldn't have wanted them all crying. They force pained smiles on their faces and laugh hoarsely past the lumps in their throats.

Alex remembers Jack laughing about how silly she was when he found her getting sniffly late at night worrying about her father and about leaving Alex. "It's not as if I won't ever see you again," Alex tried to reassure her.

Now he feels guilty that he selfishly wanted all her time to him, didn't want her to leave and not always be there for him. When his life was out of his control and he found himself busy with MI6, schoolwork, and trying to keep his friendships alive, he'd grown accustomed to always returning home, to Jack's*** boiled eggs and marmite soldiers for breakfast. He never really considered her family and how they felt about him.

If he was honest with himself, he'd stolen her life from them ever since he became more than her job. Though Razim had pulled the trigger on her life, Alex had loaded the gun.