Author's Note: I'm fairly new to this, so please review if you wish. I apologise for any mistakes, they are my own, I did not use a beta, and your reviews would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading.
Rain drops landed on her head, forming small beads of glinting light on her hair. The water dripped onto her pale face, mixing with the hot tears spilling from her eyes, falling down her face, across her white cheeks, her pink lips, until they joined the rain, falling to the grass beneath her feet. Looking up slightly, she cast her gaze across the seemingly endless expanse of land, stone blocks scattered grey amongst the green. As far as she could see, rows and rows of tombstones with a small summary of the corpses' life and a kind word the last thing that remained of them. It made her smirk bitterly for a moment - just a fleeting moment - that the love of her life would be reduced to nothing more than memories and keepsakes, and a few words scrawled on stone. Looking to her right, she saw Pete standing next to her; one arm wrapped around the young redhead, who was sobbing quietly into his jacket, the other hand holding a black umbrella over them. Claudia's pain was almost too much for her to take, but she was numb. Tears fell freely, but she couldn't feel them. Throughout the service, she hadn't made a sound; simply sat slightly away from the others. Pete, with his instincts and his knowledge of her, knew that comfort would send her over the edge, and, with a single look over the sobbing Claudia, he could tell what she was saying. 'Soon, I promise, I'll let it out. But not yet.' Pete tipped his head in an acknowledging nod, and said nothing, just hugged Claudia closer to him.
She felt a hand on her arm, the touch gentle and caring. Turning away from her friends, she saw Vanessa Calder, dressed in black like the rest of them, her umbrella providing momentary shelter from the relentless rain that hadn't seemed to have stopped since…
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, taking her cold hand in her warm gloves. She nodded in reply, unable to even consider talking. Vanessa gave her a small smile before heading off to the left to wait. Next was Artie, pausing for a moment to place a hand on her shoulder, giving her a look fool of regret, apology and sorrow. All she could do was nod again. Finally, Mrs Frederic, dressed smartly in black, an umbrella held up by a bodyguard of some kind. The woman simply looked at her for a moment, and then went to stand with Artie and Vanessa off to the side a little. Finally, as the crowd gathered around the deep grave, she turned to see the coffin, bore on the shoulders of six men. As she watched them approach, watching the rain bouncing off the dark ochre wood, she saw the white lilies on the lid, the golden plaque with the beautiful name emblazoned on it, the gold dulled by the grey clouds above. She sighed, and a small breeze picked up her locks of hair, blowing them past her eyes. She moved to brush it aside, and as her hand crossed her face, her mind momentarily flashed back…
A shot rang out. She had no time. She accepted it, she was trained to. She braced herself. Something suddenly struck her side, sending her sprawling to the ground. She rolled and crouched, gun in hand and fired at the figure, the Tesla beam stunning the shooter, who promptly collapsed. Smiling, she straightened up, ready to thank and possibly tease her saviour since everything worked out alright. Instead of seeing Pete getting to his feet, his hand held up for a hi-five, she saw her. Lying on her side. Facing away. Shaking. For the first time in her life, she was not happy to see the dark locks she loved so much, the pale skin that would almost glow in the moonlight. She heard the Tesla clatter to the floor. She couldn't remember dropping it. She couldn't remember anything. Instinct took over, her mind blank of every coherent thought. Lurching forwards, falling to her knees beside her stricken partner, she turned her over to see her beautiful face contorted in pain, her breathing ragged and her chest stained with red. Blood. Training took over. She detached herself. Focused on trying to save her. Applied pressure to the wound. Tried to stop the bleeding. Apparently, her actions had extended her partner's remaining life by a good few hours, but…
Another memory flashed into her mind. A hospital. Bright, white, clean. Completely the opposite of where she had been previously. Sitting in the waiting room. Pacing in the waiting room. Trying to get a grip of herself. Trying not to break down. Not now. Hugging Claudia when she burst in, demanding to know what had happened. Barely able to explain to Artie again. Being enveloped by Pete's warm hug, before pushing him away with an apology. Any comfort would tip her over the edge.
After a few hours, they were allowed in to see her. The others went in first, she held back until everyone else had left. She had entered, seeing her companion more vulnerable than ever, but also peaceful, truly peaceful for the first time. They had shared quiet words together long into the night, and she had fallen asleep by her bedside, holding her friend's warm hand tightly.
The hand was cold when Myka woke.
The coffin was lowered into the ground. She forced herself to watch. She was the first to step forwards and scatter a handful of dirt on the lid, hearing the hollow thump as the earth landed against the wood. Pete went next, then Claudia. When the first shovelful was thrown in, somehow the noise made her heart ache, getting worse with each. People started to drift away, some of them offering condolences, some crying, some looking sombre, she didn't particularly care. Her soaking wet clothes didn't bother her. The gentle song of birds was completely lost to her. She just stared at the slab of grey stone that marked the grave of the person she loved more than anyone else. Her eidetic memory committed every little detail to her mind, the shiny marble seeming to share her tears, water dripping down to roll over the golden lettering, finally reaching the base where the pale lilies sat. Reaching to her neck, her fingers closed around the locket that would from now on always sit there, close to her heart. She heard Pete's voice calling from far away, though in truth he was standing not two feet from her.
"Myka, we have to go," he said gently. Myka sighed, cast her eyes over the grave once more, and then left with Pete and Claudia.
The car journey back to the Bed and Breakfast was in silence, broken only by Claudia's intermittent sniffles. Myka sat in the back, staring blindly out of the window. She barely noticed they were back, before Pete opened the door for her and she stepped out. Slowly walking behind Pete and Claudia, she entered the building and took off her coat, her movements stiff. Her feet carried her through the hall to the living room, but stopped short. Something caught her eye. Something in a bowl on the table. In the fruit bowl was an apple that wasn't there previously she knew, her memory never failed her. Suddenly, she felt herself wracked by emotion, collapsing to the ground and sobbing on her knees, a small part of her wondering how she could come undone by such a simple and innocent object. Leena's comfort made no difference. Everything was just a blur now. She felt strong arms wrap around her and carry her to somewhere much more comfortable, and a smaller body wrapped itself around her, their red hair damp against her chin. There they lay, Myka slipping in and out of sleep, sometimes crying, sometimes not, letting out what seemed like an eternity of pain and anguish at once, before finally falling into a peaceful sleep for the first time in weeks.