Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognise. If i did, Graham would still be alive, raising beautiful little children with Emma.

When it will start
To feel easy?

When it will

It will
Oh I know
I'll find you there

"Hi Graham."

Emma approached the grave hesitantly, her boots crunching on the fallen leaves that layered the ground in a sea of orange and yellow. With a tilt of her head, Emma surveyed the gravestone and let out a shaky breath. She gripped the flowers tightly in her hands as she knelt down, wincing as the thorns dug into her palm, but she made no attempt to let go.

Here lies Graham Humbert, protector and friend

She leant forward and traced the words with her fingertips, taking her time on 'protector', before rocking back on her heels to place the flowers at the grave's curb. She stared at the others, scattered around the grave and wilting from age, before her shoulders slumped and she sighed.

"This is never going to get any easier is it?"

Graham Humbert

Protector

Friend

She forced her eyes away from the etching on the tomb and glanced up at the darkening sky. She didn't have long. Back home her mother was cooking dinner for the family but she'd managed to sneak out. Any moment now they'd notice she was missing and come looking for her. She didn't know whether to feel upset or relieved nobody noticed what day it was.

"Can you believe I don't have one photograph of you?", she laughed incredulously. "I've looked everywhere."

She'd spent months trying to find something, anything, to prove he existed. Besides his sheriff jacket, she had nothing. It seemed everyone moved on from his death so quickly, while she was left alone in her misery. She hid it well, for the sake of her roommate turned mother, but at night, when all prying eyes escaped her, she broke down."I can't believe it's been a year." She swallowed heavily. She could feel the utter despair working it's way up her throat and she took a deep breath in attempt to smother it.

Tears begun to blur her vision and she closed them, hoping all of it would disappear. That when she opened them, the past year would've been a dream, and Graham was just a few feet away, feet kicked up on his desk as he balled up important paperwork and tried to throw them in the wastebasket outside his office.

She felt her body begin to shake and a sob ripped from her throat. Emma grasped at the grass surrounding her, ripping it from the ground, and watched as the wind picked it from her hands and threw it into the air. It calmed her for a moment, but when her eyes settled on the other tombstones and the thought that Graham was just one of many crept into her mind, she lost it again.

"I mi-" She choked on her words and gasped for air but it felt like her lungs were closing in. "I miss you."

At some point her strength to remain upright left her, and she found herself pressed up against the cold, soft grass.

"Please come back to me," her broken voice whispered over and over, her eyes never leaving the tombstone until it was too difficult to keep them open and she drifted off into nothingness.

She was woken by a strong pair of arms as they lifted her off the ground and held her into his chest. She caught her father's eye and he tightened his grip.

"Dad, I-"

"Shh, it's okay. It's okay," his voice was soft, reassuring, comforting. It was something she had longed for when she was little and woke from nightmare, alone, with only herself to calm her back to sleep.

"You're going to be okay."

She almost believed him.