A/N: feedback is greatly appreciated.

You don't need to look to know Flack's standing on your right. You can just sense he's there. And although you'll never say it, you are thankful as hell he's there. You know Mac is there, and Stella as well. Hawkes, Adam, and even Sid are among the small crowd gathered as well. Because of that, you refuse to break down. You know they'd never think any less of you but you've got this whole macho-complex. Your reputation precedes your emotions. Her parents are on your left, hand in hand, silently crying. Seeing them hurts the most because you made a vow to protect her. Her father gave her to you to protect and cherish and love. The loving and cherishing went off without a hitch but you couldn't protect her enough. You let her parents down and now they no longer had a daughter.

This morning was sunny. When you woke up, you swore you could feel her soft hair on your chest and could hear her steady breathing. You moved to poke her nose like you did to wake her up every morning and your heart fell when you realized her nose wasn't there. She wasn't there. Slowly, the day turned cloudy and a drizzle had started up. No out-right rain had come but the feel of it was there all the same.

You have no idea how long you have been standing there but you know the minister has left a long while ago. The small crowd dispersed after that. Her mother pulled you into a hug and you rested your head on her shoulder like you used to do with her daughter. After a rough case, you'd just stand and hold her with your head on her shoulder until you felt better; holding her close, reminding you that there was good in the world. So then, you rested your head on her mother's shoulder yet still you did not break down. As she pulled away, her father shook your hand before pulling you into a hug of his own. He whispered that she loved you and that he was glad she had you. Coming from her father, whom you felt never approved of you, that almost set you over. Yet still you did not break.

The team left next, saying their last goodbyes. You felt Stella wrap her arms around you and Adam pat your back. Hawkes gave you one of his looks that said all you needed to know and Sid offered his condolences. Mac pulled you into that fatherly hug of his. In events past, that would be all you needed to go down but not today.

The rain moves from a drizzle to a steady beating. There is no downpour yet it is enough to soak you to the bone after an hour or two. Eventually, you get tired of standing with your hands shoved into your pockets and you take them out. You let out a cry of despair and sink to the ground. Sitting there, you finally crack and weep over the love you lost.

Staring ahead as your shoulders shake with sobs, you can picture her smile, her hair, the way she stood when she examined evidence. You can see the way she'd roll her eyes at your bad jokes, the way she'd lay her cool hand on your burning neck when you were sick. You can see the way she'd look at you when she wanted you on the bed in five seconds. You can see the way she'd still choke up at a case that reminded her of the one she'd been a victim of. You can see her face light up when she told you she was pregnant and the way her hand fit perfectly in yours. You can see the child-like joy radiating from her the day you taught her how to ride your Harley. You can see the tears in her eyes the moment you proposed to her and the way she looked absolutely luminescent on your wedding day. You can see her surprised smile the day you showed her the tattoo you had newly inked across your upper back. You can feel the way she delicately traced her nickname and her badge number underneath the first time she saw it.

Your face contorts from a smile to a frown, from happiness to grief. Your thoughts flit from what you had to what you could have had. And now she wasn't here to be there with you. Exhausted from the front you put on all day, your shoulders slump and you remember her for what she was, cry for what she could have been.

You jump as you feel a hand on your shoulder. "Hey," you hear someone say softly. You only nod your head once in response. You turn to look at him as Flack sits next to you.

"You're gonna be ok," Flack tells rather than asks you. You have to seriously doubt that because right now, everything aches and you just want to hold her one more time. You want to kiss her once more, tell her you love her once more, joke with her once more, and most of all- you want to stop her from ever walking out that door that day.

"It'll take a while, but you'll get there," he assures you, correctly interpreting your silence. He pulls his hand from his pocket but keeps it closed in a fist. "A couple days after you guys got married, she came to me and gave me this. She told me that if anything ever happened to her I was to give you this. She told me you would know why. I'm sorry, man, I'm sorry." He extends his hand and you move yours forward, ready to take what he was offering. He releases his grip and a flash of gold catches your vision before you feel the object land in your hand. He squeezes your shoulder; he knows that's all you need, and he gets up. "I'm always here," he says before he leaves.

Still not getting up, you bring your hand back. You are not entirely sure you want to open your hand and see what's inside but you know you have no other chance. Slowly opening one finger at a time, you reveal simple gold chain with an eight dangling from it. The very eight she wore everyday. Eight times you told her you were sorry before she decided to give you another chance, eight dates you went on before you proposed to her, eight years you'd know her, eight bullets her friends had taken, eight words in your vows so simple they made her cry, eight reasons she had to love him, eight tests she took before she was sure she was pregnant, eight times they'd come so close to losing each other.

You slip your hand into your pocket and bring out the gold band that does not fit your finger. Stroking the inscription on the inside, per sempre, you glide the band onto the chain. You slide the chain over your neck and it lies next to your dog tags. An eight, her wedding band, your dog tags, lying by your heart. Forever and eight years you will miss her, never forget her smile, her face, your love. The stone will lie for her and for forever and eight years will you love her. Forever and eight years will she not be there to know it.