The remaining hours dragged on like a living nightmare. Profound grief found McCall and stabbed her through the back and into her heart, unsuspecting and unaware. She sobbed until she threw up, and she cried until she could cry no more. There was no consoling her. Finally, Kitty talked her into going upstairs to her bedroom, where she crawled into her bed, hugging Hunter's pillow to her body. She accepted a pill and glass of water from Kitty, not even caring what it was that Kitty gave her. But it didn't make her sleep – it was as if her body had become relaxed like that of a newborn baby, but she could still hear bits and pieces of conversations, and she couldn't participate in them.

"Just a fucking shame," Navarro said. "What the fuck happened? Where the fuck was backup?"

"She's heartbroken," Kitty said. "First Steve, and now Hunter. I don't know how she'll survive this."

She heard the tinkling of ice in glasses and knew that Devane was hitting and sharing the Irish whiskey that he likely brought with him in the flask that he thought no one knew he had. "I just can't fucking believe this is happening," Devane muttered, and then she heard the ice again. "Not Hunter. No fucking way."

"And she just came back from London. Hunter was a goddamn mess without her. They never showed it, but you knew there was something more there," Bill murmured, his partner Bob silently nodding his head in agreement. "We all teased them about it, but I guess we were all jealous of what they had. At least I know I was."

"Just a fucking shame," Navarro said again. "Hunter was . . . indestructible. He was Hunter."

McCall opened her eyes to darkness, realizing she had slept until after dinner. Her house was quiet. She sat up and the grief came roaring back into her reality. Her face was hot, her eyes were swollen, and her head hurt.

"Hey, sweetie, you're awake," Kitty said quietly from across the room where she had taken watch over McCall. She quickly came over and sat on the bed next to her. "Is there something I can get for you? Are you hungry?"

McCall's eyes were a blank page. She looked at Kitty and shook her head slowly. And then it hit her. There was only one thing that she wanted. She wanted to see him. She had to see with her own eyes that he was gone. Kitty waited for her to change her clothes and she drove McCall to Metro, where she was greeted with sad eyes and nodding heads. Some came forward to hug her and offer condolences. She was numb, and could barely react. No one could speak. It was if Parker Center was shrouded in black.

Devane, who remained in the same clothes he wore at her house, looked at her with sympathy when she walked into his office, standing up from behind his desk and taking her into his arms as she wept again.

"Where did they take Hunter?" she asked him. "I need . . . I need to see him."

Devane sighed. "You can't see him," Devane told her slowly, trying to reach her through her haze of sorrow and grief. "His mother had power-of-attorney and she had him cremated this afternoon after the autopsy." Devane held her hand and tried to console her.

"But, I was his power of attorney," McCall said, disbelieving this latest turn of events.

The Captain heaved a sigh of regret. Damn Hunter for not telling her. "He changed it when you got married," Devane said, apologetically. "He probably hadn't had a chance to change it back."

McCall buried her face in her hands. "Oh my God, this can't be happening." And then she sat up and looked at Devane through her tears. "His mother. I need to be with her."

"I think that's a great idea, because she's been asking for you," Devane said quietly. "She is devastated, as you can imagine."

Kitty drove her to Santa Monica to Hunter's mother Sophie's house, where a wreath draped in black hung on the front door. The Italian tradition of mourning. When she walked in, she was greeted by several family members who had gathered there to mourn. They all knew McCall, and she was embraced by every single one. She finally found her way to Sophie, who was seated on a couch. The older woman held out her arms, and McCall sat beside her and hugged her.

"I wish I had been there for him," McCall sobbed. "He wouldn't let me. I would have been there, I would have backed him up."

"Sssssshhhhhhhhhhhh, child," Sophie murmured. "I can't believe my son is gone. But know this – he loved you more than any other, and he placed you first above all else. "

McCall smiled at Sophie through her tears. "I loved him."

"I know you did. And he felt the same way about you." Sophie smiled again and looked upward. "He is with his father now, watching over us. May they rest in peace."

McCall took Sophie's hand in hers. "Did you get to see him?"

Sophie's eyes darkened, and she bowed her head, not able to look at McCall. "No. The medical examiner's office called to say that his body was released to the funeral home, and they had taken him to the crematory before I could see him." She hung her head. "They said he was not in a good condition to be viewed." She heaved a heavy sigh. "I didn't want to remember my boy like that."

And then Sophie turned and took a black velvet bag and handed it to McCall. "His personal items are in there. I thought you may want them."

McCall opened the bag and took out Hunter' shield, a soggy wallet, his wristwatch, his police ID badge that was still hanging on a lanyard, and Hunter's key chain.

"I can't believe this is real," McCall whispered, fondling Hunter's items in her hands. "I keep telling myself it's just a bad dream, and I'm going to wake up, and he's gonna be there."

"He is with the Lord," Sophie told her gently. "We will mourn him, and we will miss him. But we must move on. Ricky wouldn't want us crying for him. He is at peace."

###

McCall sat in the front pew of the church, holding Sophie's hand. A vase with Hunter's remains sat on a dais on the altar, with a large, framed photo of him smiling in his dress blues perched on an easel next to it. McCall remained in shock, unable to accept the loss. It was all happening so fast. He had only been gone 48 hours, yet Sophie insisted on having his memorial service already.

She hadn't even been able to hold it together during the opening song, sung by a choir that sounded like Heaven's angels. Tears streamed down her face, and Sophie quietly patted her hand while Devane sat stoically on her other side.

Hunter's funeral was well-attended, with a line of law enforcement both current and retired lining the street from the church to the cemetery in a show of respect. Sophie accepted the U.S. Flag, and then sat with McCall under the tent where his ashes were going to be buried.

The shots from the United States Marine Corps Honor Guard echoed in the stillness, where sobs of loss and grief were heard among the chirping birds. A slight rain began to mist, but it wasn't enough to camouflage McCall's tears. Her heart had been ripped from her once again. The same heart that had taken years to heal after Steve died.

Once everyone had left, and after Sophie made her way to a waiting limousine, McCall sat under the canopy, all alone. She sat in the chair closest to the urn holding Hunter's remains. In her hand was a single white rose.

"How am I going to live without you?" she whispered to him, still believing he could hear her. "We had so many things to do, and to finish," she sobbed. "How could you leave me?" And then she bowed her head, letting the finality of it all drape her with sadness.