Author's Note: Heyo, this was written for a prompt sent to my Charles Grey roleplaying blog on tumblr by my lovely Phipps. The prompt was as follows; My muse blaming themselves for the death of yours. I just adore these two and there's really not enough love for them in my personal opinion. I apologize it's not that long but hey, it was a drabble prompt. If there are any mistakes in grammar/spelling or things do not make sense, please let me know so I can fix the problem.

It was raining. It had been raining the past four days; ever since he had passed away. As much as Charles hated gloomy weather and everything associated with it, it was welcomed for once. Why should there be any light, any happiness, after such a tragedy had occurred? As far as Charles was concerned, it could rain for the rest of his life and he would not care. The one person he had cared about most had been ripped out of his life much too soon. Why should he have any reason to be happy after that? Though it had only been a mere four days, the pain of losing him was unbearable. They had been separated for days at a time to complete tasks for Her Majesty, but this was much different. Phipps had not just been a near and dear friend, nor was he just someone Charles had given his heart to; he was Charles' other half. The simple fact of knowing that he was never coming back was enough to make Charles wish that he had died alongside his partner.

The funeral procession had long since ended. Even Phipps' family members had said their goodbyes and had headed for home, leaving Charles standing alone in front of the freshly covered grave. Everyone offered their condolences and had told Charles that things would brighten up in the future; it was a devastating event, but he would soon find happiness again. As far as Charles was concerned, he did not deserve to be happy after what he had done. He could have saved him. He could have prevented this from happening. If he had acted sooner and listened to himself, he would not be standing here staring at a headstone as if mere prayers could bring back his friend.

No matter how many times he had already been told that it was not his fault by the people around him, he refused to believe so. It was just assumed that they had gone together on their last assignment and because of an ambush executed by the men in the drug ring they were to investigate; Phipps had not made it out alive. That was true, but it was far from what really happened, not by a long shot.

Charles knew that something like this was going to happen. When dealing with the type of people they were dealing with, a violent act like this was something that was expected. Charles had the brilliant idea of using their own plans against them. Phipps had even offered himself to be used as the target for their attack, assuring his partner that he would be able to handle his attackers until Charles was able to step in.

The pair had been able to gather enough information to find out that they would be matched against five other men that night. Most people would be wary about the ratio between the conflicting parties, but with the skills Phipps and Grey possessed (not to mention the latter's overly-confident view on himself), they felt that they could handle a group of what seemed to be nothing more than the average thug. Unfortunately for them, these men matched them in skill. By the time Charles realized what he had let Phipps walk into, there was no turning back. He knew the other man was highly efficient when he had to stand his own ground, so some of his fears were cast away. The few times he had been able to catch a glimpse of his partner during the scuffle, he seemed to be fairing just fine as Charles focused on facing his own opponent.

When Charles thought that he had successfully incapacitated his assailant, he headed towards Phipps to help him finish the job. Unfortunately, things did not go as planned and the earl was taken by surprise as another man made his presence known, causing Charles to almost yelp in surprise. That was enough to get Phipps' attention. At the sound of his partner's voice, Phipps whirled around to see what had happened, fearing that Grey had been injured. Before Charles could even get the words 'don't worry about me' out of his mouth, the man who had been dueling Phipps took advantage of the distraction and made sure that Phipps would not live to tell about the experience.

It was bad enough knowing that he could have stepped into help much sooner or even change the plan when he had the opportunity, but he now had to suffer with the vivid memory of seeing Phipps slaughtered in front of him. Why did he let his guard down? If he would have kept himself alert, he never would have made any sound that would cause his friend to turn and see what was happening. Charles hated how concerned Phipps looked when they had locked eyes for that brief moment; seemingly forgetting that he was currently under attack and directing his undivided attention to his counterpart.

Nightmares about the event had plagued him every time he allowed himself to sleep- which had not been very much over the past few days. It did not matter if he slept or not, for what was in his dreams was also on his mind as the minutes passed him by. He had replayed the scenario in his head a countless number of times, going over all the what-ifs and how-comes. Charles knew every little thing he could have done to prevent Phipps' death from happening and it was killing him. As much as he wanted to forget, for his mind to block out the trauma he had been through, he did not deserve that privilege. Because of himself, the light in his life had been extinguished and could never be rekindled.