It was an appropriately dreary day. The sky darkened by a blanket of grey clouds, the rain a constant, strong drizzle with just enough wind to whip and sting the face.

The priest's words blended with the wind and the murmuring sobs to form a keen, the sound of which was a knife stabbing him, piercing his heart through to his very soul.

Jack's hands trembled ever so slightly as he held the umbrella in a vain attempt to shield Mrs O'Brien from the downpour. He had to admire her, standing tall and proud despite it all. The wife of a decorated army officer, mother and grandmother to police officers. All taken in the line of duty. Jack couldn't help but admire her. He was trying very hard to follow her example, publicly stoic and proud but later in private not giving a damn about proper form. His hands weren't trembling from the cold as much as the overwhelming desire to punch something.

Although they were just out of his line of sight, he could feel Jess and TomTom standing beside him. TomTom holding up his own umbrella, this one more noticeably shaking. His arm would be around her, a ruse to make it appear he was comforting Jess when really it was TomTom whose's face was damp with silent tears. Despite the nagging, the seeming jealousy that Charlie got 'the good bits', the two had quickly become friends. It was a twisting of the knife in Jack's heart. They were his responsibility and he had failed one of them.

"oy, you look like hell Jack."

"Stan." Jack said weakly. He took the cup the older man held out. "thanks for coming."

"Any word?"

"No."

"How long has it been?"

"Almost three hours." Jack sipped the coffee. It was hot and bitter and stung his mouth. He was grateful just be to be able to have coffee burn like that. He watched, barely really registering as Stan picked up the jacket that had fallen on the floor, draping it back over TomTom who had passed out on one of the sofas.

"He's a tough one our Charlie."

"I know, but this." Jack shook his head. His gaze fell on Jess standing at a window just staring out into the night. "I think I made a mistake Stan."

"Going after Jaime Caine?"

"This whole team. Sounded like such a bloody perfect thing when they first came to me. But now it's completely cocked up.

"You know I got called in today. Thought for certain they were going to tear us up. Send us packing and I was going to be grateful. Just end it here and now."

"You certain that's what you'd want? They wouldn't likely keep you if they had."

"I wouldn't want them to. I could work security or private investigation. Perhaps keep Jess with me."

"And TomTom?"

"He's a smart kid, likely could have gone to university even. Still could. Get himself a job in an office working IT."

"I can't see that. TomTom in an office, button down shirt, short back and sides." Stan laughed.

"Alright then, one of those corner shops. Fixing computers for jumpy blokes spilled coffee in it or little old ladies accidentally downloading pornography viruses."

"He's hate it either way."

"But he'd be safe. With me I can't say that. Charlie knew the risks, he agreed to them becoming a cop. But TomTom, he wasn't trained for this, he barely knows how to handle a gun, how to fight."

"You could teach him. Or have Jess do it. But then you'd be out of excuses wouldn't you. Couldn't keep him tucked away at home safe and sound anymore."

"Exactly."

The rustling of movement roused Jack from his thoughts. He watched as the coffin was lowered into the grave, stepped up to take a handful of the soil and toss it in, struggling to keep the tears at bay.