A Flag at Half Mast
At the Jeffersonian Institute the morning after the assassination of Mr. Vincent Nigel-Murray, the halls were empty. All the department heads had followed the example set by Dr. Camille Saroyan and declared a bereavement break. The doors would remain locked until noon. The only personnel present this somber morning were the two security guards and Dr. Saroyan herself.
Assembled on the plaza at daybreak, Dr. Saroyan oversaw the raising of the American Flag at half mast. As the security guards solemnly and silently raised the flag, Dr. Saroyan said a silent prayer - for the peaceful repose of the soul of Mr. Vincent Nigel-Murray, for the capture and conviction of his killer, and for the healing from this blow for her colleagues at the Jeffersonian, most especially, her squints … and those at the FBI who had come to know this fallen soul.
After a ten minute pause during which all three of them remained motionless and silent, facing the flag at half mast, Dr. Saroyan let the one hundredth tear slide unimpeded down her smooth caramel cheek. "He was dearly loved," she said. "And he will be missed." Her voice cracked on the last word.
With a deep breath that filled her lungs, followed by a lengthy breath out, emptying them again, Dr. Saroyan turned on her heal to return to her car. As she turned, she noticed movement from behind her. Stopping in her tracks, she watched as Dr. Jack Hodgins, Angela Montenegro, Dr. Lance Sweets, Mr. Wendell Bray, Dr. Clark Edison, Daisy Wick, Arastoo Vaziri, Colin Fisher, Professor Bunsen Jude, Dr. Daniel Goodman, Special Agent Payton Perotta, Andrew, and members of several departments at the Jeffersonian who had become good friends with Mr. Vincent Nigel-Murray Micah, and Max Keenan slowly advanced toward her and laid flowers at the foot of the flag pole. Not a word was said.
Slowly, after each friend, associate, or colleague of Mr. Vincent Nigel-Murray paid their respects and slowly departed, all that were left were Dr. Saroyan, Dr. Sweets, the forensics lab team, and Micah the night security guard.
"Dr Saroyan, if I may?" interrupted Micah humbly approaching the others. "I once had a conversation with Mr. Nigel-Murray in which he told me that the death that we humans fear is not a death at all, but a repurposing of the 123 unique categories of particles which make up our physical bodies. Each individual particle, made better by having participated in a human life, continues on to effect positive change in the world." He paused. "Ipso Facto Colombo Oreo, I like to believe that we are surrounded by the living essence of all that was good in those we love."
Dr. Saroyan smiled her beautiful smile of appreciation and nodded her head once toward Micah, "That was beautiful. Thank you, Micah."
"Also," continued Micah, "Dr. Brennan was here at the Jeffersonian until well past midnight last night sitting with Mr. Nigel-Murray. Special Agent Booth waited with her. She said she knew that he was dead and no longer there, and that it was … irrational, but she wanted to be near his remains as long as she could." Micah paused for a moment, looking down at his shoes, then continued, "Dr. Brennan said she was memorizing the shape of his cranium. She said he had an exceptionally symmetrical cranium – and some other stuff that went right over my head."
"Before she and Agent Booth left, she asked me to tell you that she would not be here this morning as she didn't expect she would sleep very well and she had to be rested to assist Agent Booth in the capture of Mr. Broadsky today. That, she said was how she choose to honor Mr. Nigel-Murray today rather than standing around in the cold looing at a piece of fabric flapping in the wind."
"Thank you, Micah," said Angela warmly, hugging Micah. With that they all turned and headed to the diner for an early breakfast.