A/N: I wrote a drabble of Will reacting to Abigail's death, and Beverly being there to comfort him (BECAUSE I SWEAR TO GOD, I DON'T KNOW HOW ELSE TO COPE. F#CK). And yes, it's AU. Let's just pretend that Will isn't about to get arrested. The end.

"The Breaking Point"

Will was lost...adrift...weightless. As he continued to stand on the roof of the Academy, he felt his knees weaken until he sank down to the cold, rough surface. When his backside collided with the roof, he rolled over and found himself lying flat on his back. Blinking up at the sky, his lip quivered. He could see nothing but endless grey clouds and pain – pain that he'd ultimately failed to keep from cloaking Abigail Hobbs.

He squeezed his eyes shut to block her out. Another shudder racked through him, long and deep, but this time he gave a dry and tearless sob. To his left, he could hear the door leading from the stairs slowly creak open.

Without opening his eyes, he wearily said, "Don't worry, Jack, I'm not going to jump... I just figured I'd watch the clouds."

Beverly paused, her hand still on the doorknob as she appraised her friend. His eyes were closed, but swollen, and his brows were etched in a mask of lost fury. She watched him for a moment more, then took a seat beside him on the cold roof.

"Hey, Champ," she softly greeted.

Eyes snapping open, Will looked up at her and felt his heart clench. "W-what are you doing here? What happened to...?"

"Will..." Beverly reached out a hand, her fingers gently entwining with his. "I'm here."

He didn't seem to hear her. Promptly removing himself from her grasp, Will's manner was almost explosive as he lurched off the ground. "You left Abigail alone," he accused. "Goddammit, you left her alone! How could you leave her in the morgue by herself? You said...you said you'd stay with her so I could...so I could..." Trailing off, he twitched and almost appeared as though he would strike out with his fists.

Beverly winced from the growling force of his words. Even though she wanted to be a source of comfort, she also wasn't going to stand back and let him accuse her of something that wasn't logical. Eyes narrowing, she snapped, "I didn't leave her alone, Will! Price and Zeller are examining the body, so she's in good hands! You have to stop acting like this is your fault – you couldn't have saved her!"

Will moved to give a vicious retort, but his resolve crumbled. With a shuddery breath, he slumped forward and cradled his face in his hands, furiously shaking his head as he tried to drown out the ugly truths that came infiltrating his mind all at once. He felt Beverly's hands on his shoulders then, but still he didn't move.

"Will," he heard her gently beseech, "Will, listen to me..."

"She's dead," he repeated woefully over and over, "she's dead..."

"And no one else will die," Beverly assured him. "I know you may not believe me, but we're close – I can feel it. And when we nab the guy, Abigail's death won't be in vain."

Will trembled. "You can't promise that...you can't know that'll happen."

"I know you," Beverly softly shot back, "and you'll find the bastard. You always do."

This time, Will allowed her to take his hand.