Here is the last regular chapter of this fic and the epilogue will be here soon. I will warn you now, it's kind of short. I really didn't have a whole lot of inspiration on how to start wrapping this fic up. There will be a sequel and I will post a reminder when I put it up.

I OWN NOTHING!


It was over a week later when they had the funeral at the base in LA. If she was totally honest with herself, she would admit she wasn't ready to say goodbye to them yet. But she went anyway, clad in a black dress paired with black heels.

A lot had happened in the last few weeks and her mind was still trying to put the pieces in place. But when she saw her teammates laying lifeless in their caskets, it was like a slap across the face.

Michael kept his arm wrapped around her protectively the entire funeral. It was almost like he thought she would break, he wasn't wrong, though. She was still weak from the surgery and she had over one hundred stitches running up her side. And to top if off, she was emotionally fragile too.

Michael and Lindsey had been directed to stay on the Bus until they were assigned –which was agent for 'separated.' But that was the last thing anyone was thinking about; they were all too worried about Lindsey. She had been mostly quiet and out of it, her snarky comments had ceased. And even though no one brought it up at all, they could hear desperate sobs late every night. It was the kind of sob that broke your heart to hear, the one that comes from someone who had truly lost everything.

At the end of the service, the few agents that showed up filed out. A few lingered in their black clothes gossiping in the corner. Michael and Lindsey sat in the second row unmoving with the team in the row next to them. Their heads were bowed and their mouths were closed.

Lindsey, surprisingly, was the first to make a move. With ease, she rose to her feet straightening her dress. Her shoes clomped against the wood floors slicing through the silence like the dagger strapped to her thigh. Everyone watched her carefully, including the agents she didn't know.

The caskets were standing next to each other with the lids propped open. The one on the left held Shannon dressed in a purple dress, flowers clasped in her bony hands, curls cascading around her face and perfect makeup painted on her soft features. She looked peaceful.

Evens' dark hair was slicked back, his suit matched his perfectly tied neck-tie and the smirk on his lips was non-existent.

"No," Lindsey whispered.

It wasn't right. Not even close.

"No," she repeated shouting. "It's all wrong."

There were tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at Michael helplessly.

"Shannon would never wear a dress like that because you can't hide a gun in it. She doesn't wear makeup, unless you count chap stick, and when she does it's all messy. Last year she tried to curl her hair for a mission and she singed off a huge chunk of it. And if she saw the flowers, she would castrate the man who put them there. Evens would spike his hair because he thought it would pick up girls. His tie would be untied and no way in hell would it be remotely close to matching his jacket, his shirt would be stained with blood from a mission because he's too cheap to buy a new one. He would be smirking even if he got his ass handed to him by me 'cause that's just who he was. They can't be gone because they promised they would never hurt me. It hurts like hell right now and my whole body feels broken. I don't think I can take it! They died because they knew me; it's my fault they're gone. I was being naive by staying here when I knew my father would find me. And they're paying for my selfish mistake."

Michael pulled Lindsey against his body, wrapping his muscular arms around her.

"It's okay," he whispered tears dripping out of his own cheeks. "It's okay."

Maybe he didn't know what else to say or maybe he was trying to reassure himself. No on really knew, not even he did.


So, what did you think? Please, review!

Love,

Kaylie