Disclaimer: I don't own Without a Trace, any of the characters, storylines, or actors. However I do own my ideas.

Zai: Thanks all for the reviews, keep them coming!!

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Martin stood in his room dressed neatly in a dark suit. He adjusted his tie and then glanced at his watch. It was nearly time to get ready to head down to the cemetery. His uncle and cousins had arrived the previous night and Sam had managed to convince Jack to let her stay.

The team had wanted to come, to be there for Martin. However, a case had come up and they were running two agents short as it was. Danny had phoned the previous evening and given Martin his condolences.

A quiet knock sounded on the door and Martin opened it to find Samantha waiting on the other side. "How you holding up?" She asked quietly. She had left her hair down and was wearing a simple black blouse with a dark skirt.

"I'm doing fine," he assured her.

"Marty?" His Uncle Roger called up from downstairs. "We've got to get going."

"Coming." He called back and, gesturing for Samantha to go ahead, he followed her down into the entrance hall. The service was going to be small, only family and close friends. The FBI was holding a separate memorial-wake type service for colleagues of the Deputy Director to pay their respects.

Sam had been a little hesitant about coming, feeling she would be intruding on the grieving family. But Martin had asked her to come, and she had agreed. She knew he was trying to hold everything inside, trying to be strong for his mother, but he needed someone to be there for him too.

They took two cars and arrived together at the peaceful graveyard where Martin had arranged for the service to be held. Sam and Martin walked together with Martin's mother. They sat in the front row, the rest of the family sat just behind them. Many of Madeline's and Victor's friends came to express their condolences to Madeline and Martin before they took seats further back.

In short order the service began. Martin tried hard to focus on the words the pastor read, but everything just seemed so far away. He knew that his mother was crying beside him. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

Before the service the pastor had approached Martin, asking him if he had wanted to say a few words. Martin had declined, but even as he knew he could never find the words to say, he felt like he was letting his father down, again, by not speaking.

Lost in thought Martin stared down at the coffin where his father now lay. His mother had said that his father had been proud of him. But had he really? Most of Martin's life was a contradiction of everything his father had wanted for him.

Moving away from DC, joining the FBI, everything. In some twisted way Martin almost felt that even the things he had no control over, his getting shot for instance, had also disappointed his father.

The coffin beginning its slow decent into the ground forced Martin back into the present. He hated himself for being so pathetic, wallowing in his own self-pity while his mother needed him to be better than that.

Soon it was all over. Friends got up and bid the family well before leaving. Martin stood staring down at the fresh dirt over the grave. Distant from the world, he did not even notice that only him, his family, and Sam remained at the cemetery. Sam came up behind him and touched his arm gently. "Hey."

"Hey," He said his voice barely above a whisper.

"You know I have to head back to New York tonight." Sam said slowly.

"Yeah, I'll drop you off. I should be coming back in a few days. I just need to make sure Mom will be all right." He said turning to face Sam. Behind him he could see his uncle talking to his mother. They both looked reflective and he wondered if they were talking about his father.

Sam smiled. It was so like Martin to place everyone else above his own feelings and needs. He had done that in their relationship too, until he just could not give in anymore. "You know I will always be ready to listen when you want to talk." Sam said simply before heading over to the cars. Everyone else had left, and Madeline was finally ready to leave as well.

- - - - - -

The house seemed rather empty as Martin returned from dropping Sam at the airport. His uncle and cousins all had to get back and had also left after the service. He found his mom sitting in the living room staring at a wedding photo.

He sat down beside her. In the photo, both his parents looked so young and carefree. A sharp contrast from the grieving widow who sat beside him now.

She gently placed the picture down on the coffee table. "Shouldn't you be off to New York too?" She asked her son, knowing he did not usually get much time off work. Like her husband had, he worked too much.

"Soon." Martin replied, "I wanted to stay with you awhile longer."

"Your such a sweet boy." His mother said patting him on the arm. "I don't know how I would have survived this past week without your support."

Martin could find no reply. He just put his arm around his mother and hugged her gently.

"I knew what your father's job was like when I married him," She said sadly breaking off onto another subject completely, "But I really do wish he could have been around more, for your sake mostly."

Martin shrugged, "He did what he thought was best. He provided for us."

"I know, it just seems he missed so much, and now he will miss even more. We won't grow old together." She said with a sad sigh, "And one day when you have your own family, he'll miss that too. I'm sure he would have like to meet the girl who could hold your heart." She said with a weak smile.

Martin returned her smile, thinking to himself, don't worry, he's already met the only girl who could ever hold my heart.