A/N: Sorry, forgot this part! This just came to me after reading numerous amounts of fanfictions and watching the last episode.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Ugly Betty or anything to really do with the production and writing of the show. I'm an avid viewer with an overexcited imagination. Please refrain from suing me!

One Last Thought

He'd just lost his best friend; the only person to ever see any worth in him. Now, he'd lost the father he never really understood, the man he'd jump through hoops of fire just to get that proud father smile directed at him for once. No chance of that now, sitting next to his brother-now-sister, they collectively stared at the empty space that was once the final resting place for Bradford Meade.

Her hand touched his shoulder, feather-like. He lent into the warmth, savouring the moment, hoping that it didn't mean that he was still losing her. He couldn't stand the thought that he may have screwed up the only relationship that ever worked. She was the cornerstone of him, she held him up when everyone else dropped away. She was his best friend, mentor and assistant. He loved her more than anything.

The word rolled around his head for a few moments, the once terrifying word seemed, almost familiar to him now; when it came to her, everything was becoming familiar. Her apricot shampoo, radical dress sense, unique way of seeing things, even her obscure way of pinpointing what was wrong with him was becoming familiar.

He reached up and took her hand, ensuring that her presence would stay with him, giving him the strength to finally walk away. Alexis had already left, it was just them now, them and so many unsaid words ricocheting off the walls; bouncing around his head, driving him crazy.

'I loved him,' he stated.

'I know,' she gave his hand a squeeze.

'Let's go,' he stayed seated.

'Alright,' she stood behind him, sheltering him from the outside world.

She stayed with him, he sat there for hours and she stood strong behind him. He realised while sitting there, that if she were to leave him at all, he would crumble. She was the glue that held the pieces of Daniel Meade together; he hoped she knew that.

He stood and faced her, her arms coiling around his body, giving him the embrace he'd been sitting there longing for.

'Stay with me tonight,' he mumbled into her hair, the apricot scent of her wrapping him in a soft cocoon.

'Alright,' she replied.

She took him by the hand and led him from the building in a haze of flashing cameras; nothing matter at that moment, just the warm, reassuring hold she had on his hand and his being. She was keeping him upright, intact and sane.

Once they reached his apartment she shook her head, he knew what she was saying. A short while later they were walking the steps to her house. Everyone was still awake when they entered, but no one spoke to them. He found it weird that the house was so quiet; gripping her hand tighter he allowed her to pull him up the stairs. Taking a few deep breaths he also allowed her to help him undress down to a t-shirt and boxers. He watched in awe as she stripped into her pyjamas and gestured towards the bed.

Normally with a shock like this he would be shacking up with some model, trying to forget what had happened; instead he found himself engulfed in her, his hand playing with a few strands of her hair as they just lay there in her bed. Her phone went off and their silence was broken.

'Answer it,' he whispered.

She sighed. 'Betty Suarez. No comment. No comment. No comment. No comment. Sleeping. No comment. Goodbye.'

He rolled onto his side, propping his head on his hand and faced her. 'Who was it?'

'The media circus that is looking for you.' She replied looking up at him.

'What did they want to know?'

'Did I have a statement about Bradford Meade? Was I there when he died? Did I know about Claire Meade? Why were Daniel and his assistant holding hands when he left the hospital? Do I know what Daniel is doing? Where?' she rattled off, before yawning.

'You're tired,' he stated brushing some hair off her face.

'So are you,' she smiled, knocking his supporting arm out from underneath him. 'Sleep.'

He didn't sleep; he laid next to her for about an hour he surmised, just thinking about her. Slowly he succumbed to the sound of her breathing, dozing off until the last thought he remembered was how much he loved and admired the woman next to him. The woman he decided was never to leave him.