Disclaimer: I do not own the team. Title and quotes from Tennyson's In Memoriam.
Summary: Mourning is never linear. Gideon's death, viewed through an ongoing series of drabbles.
Note: Anyone remember me? I'm SO sorry for the lack of updates! Real life, you understand, it shits on you sometimes. Thank you to all of my readers and reviewers! You guys really make my day, and I hope you all enjoy the next few drabbles!
Our Father's Dust
38
"His credit thus shall set me free;/ And, influence-rich to soothe and save,/
Unused example from the grave/ Reach out dead hands to comfort me."
*
JJ's not a religious person, so it's probably a little strange, this ritual she's taken to. Then again, maybe it makes sense; if she were a religious person, she'd have more orthodox figures to pray to than her dead ex-boss. But whether or not it makes sense-- whether or not it works-- JJ likes the way it makes her feel: confident, protected yet capable.
She spreads three folders on her desk. From the hundreds she's reviewed, they're the most urgent, but equally so. So where, to send the team? Which city to save?
"Which do I pick, Gideon?" JJ whispers.