CHAPTER 1

A dense, misty fog hung in the air as shadows overtook the area. Rows and rows of flowers and headstones lined the whole parameter, a small structured few standing alone in the center. It was a desolate, lonely land, an area few wished to be but some, especially relative of the recently deceased, frequented often. The area would be closed off at sunset, and as the last shimmering golden rays slipped behind the horizon Hawke realized he wouldn't have long, but he didn't need long. Just a couple of minutes to pay his respects before he had to leave.

He really should have come sooner, more often, he thought guiltily. It wasn't like the cemetery was that far away, but he could always come up with some excuse avoiding it. It was so depressing, all these lifeless dead bodies that resided here, so lifeless, dull, melancholy…. But he shouldn't have waited so long, he scolded himself again, it only made it harder. He really should be over this, he thought, after all, it had been so long since they had died, leaving him and Saint John alone to fend off the world. Alright, he conceded, not totally alone. Dom had been there, the only constant in his life for so many years, and still was.

Twenty nine years today, and the first time he had been here in who knows how long. Exactly twenty nine years today his parents had been dead, and sixteen years, four months and two weeks that Saint John had been missing in action. Heartache after heartache….. But who was counting?

Who was he kidding? Surely not himself. He remembered every time, every date, every reason, all with excruciating detail and all this place did was help him relive every dreaded minute of it. Still, was it so much to ask that he come by and pay his respects occasionally?

Yeah, he had a busy life, but then, so did everybody else; that was still no excuse. It hurt, it hurt terribly, that was his only excuse.

Numbly, his legs carried him over to the burial sight of his parents. It had taken days of searching to find their bodies that had been washed downstream after the storm, but finally they had been, the funeral preformed, and the legal documents necessary for Dom to become their legal guardian taken care of. Afterward it had been nearly another two weeks before he had even said a single word, and then only after countless efforts by Dom and Saint John's bravery and determination, and heartfelt concern. Dom had taken great care of them, given them hours of his time and endless amounts of love and all the care he could provide, but there was no denying things were never quit the same.

Tanned fingers ran across the inscribed stone names on the headstone belonging to his parents, tears glinting in his eyes.

"Why?" he choked. "Why did you have to leave us? We were so young….."

Of course they gave no answer, only the eerily howling wind wrestling with the trees.

There was no point in getting angry; no earthly power could do anything more for them no more than they could all those years ago, but still it seemed so wrong, so unfair.

"I was only ten," he whispered, "and Sinj not much older."

A dreary silence filled the air as the chill of darkness began to set in and darkness overpowering all else.

How was it that this bothered him so, yet he could continue to live in his grandfather's cabin on a daily basis?

Why was it that even after so many years their death was still so fresh in his mind?

Wispy grey clouds hid the sun from sight, letting the rising moon and a scattering of stars illuminate the graveyard, ghost town, he amended.

Maybe it was because, hard as it was, his grandfather's death seemed more natural. He had had a good long life, enjoyed it to the fullest, and he had something to pass on. His parents, on the other hand, hadn't known the fate that was awaiting them, that that was to be their last afternoon on this earth. The only memorable thing they left behind where two boys, - two young, scared, lonely, and hurt boys.

He had come here multiple time after Saint John had first gone missing and he had finally come home after, often he thought it might be better if he joined his parents, but never once did he doubt that Saint John hadn't yet. Somewhere he was out there. Saint John wouldn't leave him all alone, and he wouldn't leave Saint John. For so long that was the only reason he fought to live, so that he could hunt for Saint John. What other reason did he have?

A cool breeze whipped through the tree tops, sending a chill down his spine.

"I'm sorry I didn't come earlier," he apologized sincerely. "I'm leaving in the morning but I should be back soon hopefully. I'll try to remember to come by a little more often," he promised.

Shoving up to his feet from his kneeling position, Hawke gently set a single rose on each of the graves and turned to leave, each footstep growing harder to take.

A full moon shone above, casting a yellowish glow over the cemetery and making the grim place look even more fore boarding. He didn't want to be here, yet he found it so hard to leave.

Finally leaving the burial grounds behind him and attempting to leave the memories too, he trudged out to the waiting vehicle.