John appeared before the casket, his eyes raking over the smooth and glistening wood as the dim lights in the chapel of the Sanctuary shown down on it. He hadn't stayed before, there was no way that he could with her around but he needed to be here now. Standing stoically he watched the wood glimmer in the light for minutes on end, his mind swirling and remembering the few moments that he'd been a part of his daughter's life. In the back of his mind he knew that Helen was right to leave him out of it. That if he had been there, or even known about the young girl's existence sooner than he did, he would have ruined it. He was a menace that way. Anything he touched withered and died.
And she had, barely more than a year after he'd met her. He took a tentative step forward and licked his lips looking around. He didn't want to be discovered here, that would only give her more fodder for the fire. Looking once again forward he allowed gentle and sure fingers to brush over the edge of the coffin. He knew it would be empty; they'd had no body to bury. Yet he couldn't move away from the fact that this was his daughter's final resting place. The air was being pulled into his lungs slowly and they were expanding in his chest the tension to a breaking point before he moved.
Finally he lifted the lid carefully and took stock of everything that was there. A rose, a book, a necklace, a medicine pouch: all pressed and laid carefully over white flowing satin where the body should lay. Deciding quickly he dipped his hand into his pocket and glanced down at the locket. He flicked it open one last time and smiled sweetly at the image of Helen slyly grinning back at him. Leaving it open he pressed it to the center of the tiny pillow and looked on as the medley was complete. Once more he closed the lid and ran his fingers over the smooth wood in quiet reverence.