"I just wanted to say thank you for all that you've done..."

It's quiet. Almost too quiet to be considered appropriate for a proper conversation. He understands, though, that sometimes there are words that simply cannot be said. He doesn't blame them for not speaking to him. In a way, he doesn't even want them to. What words would he be able to say then?

"...and that I'm sorry, for what little I have."

The summer wind howls and a lone bird flies overhead. Seeley looks up to watch it, mesmerized by the way it glides through the skies so easily, as if gravity had no effects on it. He takes the moment to muse over how he always wished that he could fly, if ever blessed with some sort of super power. Now he only wishes for the power and strength to get through this painful talk with the two people he feels he's failed the most.

"I know that we don't know each other that well," he says after a moment, returning his glance to the couple beside him. He heaves a sigh and shifts somewhat in his seat, as if unable to get comfortable. He's never dealt well with disappointment. "But he talked a lot about you. He said you two were very understanding. And smart. And very, very loving people...just like he was. Is."

There's no response, so he finds it safe to continue.

"I only ever heard good things from him. I mean about you both. And I just, I know it, I could feel it, the way he spoke about you, he just loves you so much. And I can say this on behalf of all the squints and myself, we are so thankful and relieved that you were able to bless his life the way you did. You did so much for him, and you helped mold him into the person that he is today. And that's such a wonderful person, you know. I'm really proud of who he is. And you should be too."

Again, there's no response from the couple.

"I'm sorry to say that I couldn't be for him what I should have been. Your son, he...he suffered a lot. And that was my fault. That is my fault. And I want you to know that I'm so sorry. So, so sorry...God, I'm sorry for what I didn't do. I'm sorry for what happened. I-I really didn't know..." There's a moment where he pauses, struggling to choke back the sob that's ready to escape his lungs at any given second. He doesn't want to break down in front of them. He doesn't want to show them that side of him. "I didn't know that any of that was going to happen, but had I known...I mean, I should have known. I should have been there, I should have been with him, to protect him."

They have the decency to let him continue, so he does. His eyesight is suddenly blurry.

"I failed him. I failed you. And I'm sorry for that. I just had to make sure you knew it. I had to make sure that you knew that I was sorry for letting you down. I made a promise to myself that I would be there to always take care of my people, and I wasn't there for him, and that is nobody else's fault but mine. It was my mistake. And it cost us all so much. I'm sorry."

He has to take a minute to compose himself. He hates breaking down in front of others, he hates showing that type of weakness. It's the first time he's really let go of this cocktail of emotions building inside of him. It's the first time that he's cried over this loss.

His fingers pluck at a blade of grass.

"You know, I'm a man of God. I believe in God and I believe in Heaven and I know that he's in a better place. As long as you two are there with him, especially. He's in a better place now, where he's not suffering. Where he's okay. I just wanted to say that I'm thankful that you were there to protect him for most of his life. I did my time, and I tried my hardest, but now it's your turn again."

He pushes himself up and wipes the dirt off his pants. He gives the couple one more look before turning to leave.

"Say hi to Sweets for me, would you? Tell him I owe him one."