A/N: Yeah, so...H:LOTS isn't mine...

They said it was simple. That there's really nothing to it, other than closing your eyes, never to wake up again. Or rather, that's what parents tell their kids when they ask what it's like to die. Once upon a time, I believed it. And then I became a murder police.

"Looks like a gunshot wound to the head." The medical examiner's voice jolted me back into the present, and I looked down at the body in front of me, at the blood on the sidewalk, and then up and over at the crime scene tape and the people gathered around. That was Baltimore, all right, I mused, almost bitterly, the city that bleeds. And of course, everyone wanted a look.

I wondered then as I stood there listening to Munch tell me what the crime scene unit techs had told him how anyone could think that death was simple. That it was painless. I could only imagine what the person lying on the cold ground had gone through in her last moments. Death wasn't simple. It was complicated. And it left me wondering.

"You all right?" It was the concerned note in Munch's voice that made me look over at him, and I nodded wordlessly, wiping at my eyes as if it were allergies, but he knew better, and so did I. When I said nothing, he walked over to where I was, and peered down at the notepad in my hands. We had an ID, an identity for this victim whose murder we were to solve.

"Let's get this over with." It was the first I had spoken since getting to the crime scene, and as I walked off, Munch followed, still looking worried.

"Kay, look at me," he said, as we crossed the crime scene tape and came to a stop just short of the crowd. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah," I replied, fumbling for the keys that I knew were somewhere in my pocket. "I'm just wondering how the hell anyone can sit there and say that death is easy…simple, even."

Munch took the keys from my hands as I found them and motioned for me to get in on the passengers side, as he answered.

"They're not murder police," he said as we both got into the car and left to find our victim's family. "One who doesn't see what we see day in and day out is bound to think that death is simple."

I gave a derisive snort and turned to look out the window. "Well, maybe that's what's wrong with this city."

"Maybe it is."