"The city of Los Angeles runs cold today." Priest Abernathy says. "The sunshine…is shining gray." He presses the Bible to his chest and lowers his head. The funeral attendants do the same. After a moment of silence; a younger priest, Father Dane, walks to stand next to his mentor.
"The ceremony is concluded. We will leave you to mourn in peace. God rest her soul." Father Dane says. The two walk across the graveyard and out of sight.
"She didn't deserve this." Roger said. He looked up to Martin, who was more silent than usual.
"She got too close, Rog." Riggs said, looking down to the barely green grass.
"Close to what?" Trish grabbed Martin's arm and bent her knees a little bit to meet his eyes. He lifted his head and she adjusted herself.
"I don't know." Riggs barely got those words out. His voice was low and broken. Trish held back tears as she hugged him. He rested his chin on her left scapula. When the two separated, she, again, made it a point to look him straight in the eye.
"You'll get that son of a bitch, Martin." She looked angry but hopeful. He could read every emotion on her face. He felt a slight peace come over him. It wasn't a lot but it was enough for the moment. He started to walk away, towards his truck. Trish touched Roger's arm while she walked towards their car.
"This won't be for nothing, Karen." Roger said, looking at the picture on the stand. He dropped the rose that was in his hand into the grave hole. He then took the same path his wife had, moments before.
***(Location: The Station)(Monday)
"Do you think he should take this one off?" Avery asked Roger, who was sitting one of the chairs in front of the desk.
"I say yes. But do you really think that he'd do it?" He asked, with a slight laugh. The captain leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk.
"He should be off of this case. But…since he's not going to… keep an eye on him." Avery got up and walked to the window. Roger was going to follow, but the door opened.
"If you ladies are done gossiping about me, there's been a murder, downtown." Riggs said. He let the large glass door swing behind him. Without another word, Roger was out of the door, following behind his partner. Avery half-looked over his shoulder and gave a slight sigh.
***(Location: Century Plaza Hotel)
"Scorsese. What do we got?" Martin asked. He looked at the bloody body, hanging over the chair. The corpse was shirtless. There were black suit pants on him with navy blue socks and black dress shoes.
"Uh…" Scorsese barely replied. He looked to Roger before he looked back to Riggs.
"Just tell me." Martin pushed. Murtaugh silently nodded in agreement.
"His throat was slit. The-the uh… same way as…" He paused and looked to the corpse. "I think it's the same killer that got Agent Palmer." Riggs crossed his arms and left the room. Roger followed.
"Her partner's dead in there, Rog. She's dead. What did they find?" Martin messed with his hair and adjusted his stance, looking down the hotel halls.
"We'll find out. Avery said it's our case now." Roger said.
"Alright." Scorsese said, walking over to the boys. "There's a partial print on the knife used, but it might just be the victim's. I can't know until I run it, back at my lab."
"Okay, then. Let's get you back so you can do that." Roger insisted. He pointed to the knife in the evidence bag. He looked to Riggs. "You okay?" Scorsese left the two to talk.
"Not the time, Rog." Martin turned around and started down the hall. Scorsese lifted an eyebrow and began writing in the file he was holding.
***(Location: Roger's car)(5 minutes later)
"Do you want me to drop you straight off at the station or do you want to go home, first?" Roger asked Martin.
"Whichever." He replied, quietly. His tone indicated that he didn't feel like talking. He looked out of the window; seeing the sprinkling rain roll down the glass. He watched the water bounce off of the pavement. His eyes traced the sidewalk and up a few buildings. He was drowning himself in thought and Roger knew it. He wanted to help so bad, but he didn't know how.
"The station." He said, quietly. He knew Riggs had an appointment with Maureen in an hour and that'd be the best place for him to be. Not alone in a gun-filled RV parked in a secluded area of a beach. He shouldn't be alone, right now. Roger thought.
***(Location: Cahill's Office)(1 hour later)(There was traffic. It's LA. What can you do?)
Darkness fills the room. The lights may be on but that does nothing to diminish the emotional dark that is present. Maureen looks to Riggs. He's laid back in the couch, looking at the floor with his head tilted slightly to the left. He's even more quiet than he normally is. Not even a sarcastic remark. To her, it's haunting.
"Do…" She began and paused right after.
"Go ahead." He said, exhaling.
"Do you want to tell me what's going on in your head right now?" She leaned forward in her chair and put her elbows on her knees, folding the folder in her hands.
"I don't know." His voice is quiet. Breathy. He adjusted the position of his legs a little bit.
"That's kind of a start."
"Am I poisonous?" He asked, out of the blue. She slightly jerked her head back in surprise.
"Why would you think that?" She leaned back in her chair.
"Miranda. Karen."
"Riggs…" She was interrupted by his standing up.
"I need to go." He started to walk out of the door, quickly. She grabbed his arm and stood up, herself. He turned around, tears in his eyes. He yanked his arm out from her tight grip. "Stay away from me, doc. You'll just end up like them." He left the room. Cahill stood, catatonic. The darkness had grown and engulfed the doctor. Martin Riggs is truly a broken man.