Author: AbbyGibbs

Fandom: James Bond (Daniel Craig movies)

Pairing: James Bond/M Olivia Mansfield.

Rating: T

Author's note: this came to me, after I was reading a piece of Robyn Carr's "What we found" something in mind was triggered. So, here is a new James Bond story for you guys. It's not an easy one, but I felt I had to write it down. Tissues might be in order, so you've been warned.

Robyn Carr's story wasn't the only inspiration for this story. Tayryn's "Broken" also inspired me for this one.

Thanks to Tayryn for the beta work.

The cold wind was biting against his skin, but James Bond didn't care. He had never cared about much in his adult life, it had been part of his job for so long… he had been trained not to feel anything. He had been trained to become a cold-blooded killer, and he had been that for years. And then she came along: Olivia Mansfield, also known as M, the head of MI6, and his life changed for the better.

0-0-0

He wandered the streets of London like a robot. Bond had known this day would come eventually. He thought he would be prepared for it, but the truth was nothing could have prepared him for this.

James felt numb. He had felt like this before, but never had the feeling felt so intense. He felt as if someone had stabbed his heart, and repeated the motion over, and over again before putting salt on his wounds. The pain cut so deep and was so intense that he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to hold on. Le Chiffre's physical torture had been nothing compared to the hurt he was feeling now. The loss of her was unbearable.

He had walked without thinking and found himself standing in the graveyard where she'd been buried a week ago. James knelt in front of the tombstone, and caressed the golden engraved letters of her name with his gloved hand which were slowly getting covered in snow. He wondered briefly when it had started to fall, as he hadn't noticed anything. James felt his eyes water and his vision blur. He was crying now. When was the last time, he'd cried? Bond couldn't even remember.

"I miss and love you, so much, Olivia," he whispered, as tears kept rolling down his cheeks.

James would have given anything to have her back. He would gladly sacrifice twenty years of his own time on earth if it meant he could spend one more day with her; an hour or a single minute longer with her. Hell, he would even trade his soul with the devil if it meant he could spend one more night holding her warm body in his arms.

She had taught him so much. She had taught him what loving someone really meant. Made him enjoy the smallest things, like simply holding her hand when they wandered the streets while on vacation. It hadn't happened as often as he would have wanted but when they did, James was the happiest man alive.

He'd never been as happy as when he was with her. Olivia Mansfield Bond, but no one had ever known they had been married. James still couldn't fathom the fact that she loved him so much that she had agreed to become his wife. The only down side to the marriage was they'd had to keep it a secret, but that had been a small price to pay in comparison for what he had received in return. And they'd loved sneaking around. They'd been professional at work, so no one ever suspected anything, though he wasn't completely certain that Moneypenny and Tanner knew nothing about the fact they were actually married.

Eve had always been very perceptive and observant.

He hurt. His heart was bleeding from an invisible wound that had been made the day she died in his arms. They slept spooned together, regardless if they had made love or not. About a week and half ago, when he kissed her neck to wake her up, he knew instantly that she was gone; she felt cold, so cold. He held her tightly against him and cried his heart out as he had lost the only want he had ever loved.

Now, here he was, crouched in front of her grave in the middle of December.

He hurt so much that he wanted nothing more than to join her. She wouldn't want that, he was certain of that, she would reprimand him, telling him that he still a life to live without her, but the cold truth was that without her, his life had lost its entire meaning. He didn't want to move on. He would never move on again.

He was grateful to whoever or whatever had permitted them to love each other, and live with each other. He would like to have had one more kiss from her lips, one more touch of her hand; would rather smell her perfume just once more than to have to spend an eternity without it.

But James was tired of this life without Olivia, tired of this hurt he felt constantly since she was gone. He drank and drank, and the pained dulled for a couple of hours, only come back stronger. He couldn't take it anymore.

Life wasn't a blessing anymore, it had become a burden since she'd died.

He reached for the bottle of pills he'd put in his coat that morning before leaving his apartment. He had also taken his gun, just in case the pills weren't fast enough. James stood up, and moved closer to her grave stone. He sat with his back against the stone. He opened the bottle and emptied the contents into his right hand.

James brought his hand up, then popped the pills into his mouth, and swallowed. His other hand reached down to grab some snow before bringing it to his lips.

"It won't be long now, my love. We'll be together again soon," he said to the wind. It took the pills a bit longer to do their work than he thought they would, and smiled when he realized they were finally kicking in.

James felt himself grow tired, and slowly closed his eyes. Within five minutes, the grip he had on the small bottle loosened, and it rolled a few inches away.

It looked as if he had fallen asleep in the snow, leaning against her grave stone. The truth, however, was a little different.

The cold truth was that James Bond, the greatest the secret agent the world had never known, had committed suicide because he couldn't bear to live in the world without his soulmate, his beloved wife.

The End