Title and lyrics from the song "See You Again" by Wiz Khalifa.
There is off-screen, minor character death, but the focal point of this story is that the characters do not let their grief consume them and they find comfort in those around them.
tissue warning bc I LEGIT MADE MYSELF CRY AT THIS
It's been a long day without you, my friend
Mac stares at the tombstone of his grandfather's grave.
Today is the third anniversary of his death.
They say the pain lessens in time, and maybe it does, but for now, all there is is a shooting pain that sits heavy in his chest.
Does it always hurt like this? Does it always feel like the world's being ripped out from under you every time you think their name? He's felt like this for three years, now, and he still wants to tell his grandfather about what he accomplished this year, about the girl he went out on a date with, about a joke he thinks the man will appreciate.
(He asked Jack about it, once. The older man was silent, and then shook his head. "It doesn't feel like that forever, Mac, but there's a part of you that never quite comes back."
The blond thinks that maybe that's a good thing. If someone is that much a part of your life, they shouldn't just be replaced. Jack agrees, he thinks.)
And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again
Jack smiles as he glances up at his dad's grave. He keeps talking, the grin continuing to grow as he does so. "I have a new EOD on my squad. You'd love him, dad. He's smart, but he's not obnoxious about it. He acts like he's in his forties, and he looks like a kid that's barely out of high school. I'll have to bring him here to meet you next time I visit."
He pauses for a moment, looks at the ground, then continues. "You know how I always wanted a little brother? I think I found one."
(The grief he's held in his heart for years has become less, now, but it's still there. It never goes away, and he still finds himself thinking, at times, that he should show his dad this or that, or that the man'll get a laugh out of a situation he found himself in.
Then he remembers, and his breath is taken away for a second.
But, he reminds himself, he's with mom now. He missed her so much.
It helps, a little bit.)
We've come a long way from where we began
Riley stares at the letter in her hand. She reads it, then reads it over and over and over again.
Mrs. Jansen, the woman that looked after her when she was young and her mother was at work, has died. Riley had spent countless hours at her house while her mother worked long hours to make ends meet. It wasn't easy being a single mother, but Mrs. Jansen took one worry off of Riley's mom's plate.
The woman had been kind and sweet, and Riley had loved going over to her house. She told Mrs. Jansen everything, and the woman had cared about Riley, even writing her letters when she was in prison.
(She was also the woman that called the police when she saw Riley's dad try to come back the only time after Jack kicked him out. She took care of Riley and her mother when they both had the flu, and they took care of her when she broke her hip.
They had grown into a family, and Riley had thought of her as the grandmother that she had lost when her father left.
Her father. A man she hasn't thought about in years, not since Jack had left and the next two boyfriends were decidedly not father material. Fathers are for other people. Riley and her mom and Mrs. Jansen were family enough for each other.
But. A father would be a comforting presence, at a time like this, when her mother is grieving too, but hers isn't there to fill the job.
Jack is, though, and she stays at his house the night after she recieves the news. He drives her to the funeral, and holds her hand the whole way through it, and she thinks to herself that maybe her father was here after all.)
Oh, I'll tell you all about it when I see you again
Bozer thinks, sometimes, about his older brother. He had been nineteen years older than him, in the army, and Bozer had thought he was the most amazing person in the world.
The world fell out from under his feet when he was told that his brother had died.
Being seven at the time, it had been a hard concept to grasp. Sam was gone? When would he come back?
Never was something that Bozer learned early on.
When he hit middle school and saw a skinny little blond-haired boy, a couple of years younger than him, about to get beat up by Donnie, Bozer didn't hesitate.
The glow of pride he felt when the kid looked up at him with awe solidified when his parents told him later that night that standing up for someone else was exactly the type of thing that Sam would've done.
(When Bozer turned twenty-six, he cried for his brother. His brother, who would never be older than him again.
Mac sat there with him, heart aching for the man he never knew, and visited his grave with Bozer. They sat there together, and Mac told Sam how he and Bozer had met, and they spent the afternoon telling stories to a gravestone that didn't seem quite so somber after they were finished.)
When I see you again
They sit around the fire, sometimes, and tell stories about them, about the people that raised them, looked after them, were their friends, were their family. They laugh until they cry- and some of the tears aren't just tears of laughter, but no one comments on it- and when the night ends, there's a moment of silence for those that are gone.
It doesn't bring them back. Nothing will. But it helps, sometimes, to be with those who are also grieving.
