Tissues may be needed...
xxxxxx
The sun was high in the sky, shinning brightly over the fresh green landscape as the spring flowers began to bud. The birds chirped in the distance announcing their arrival into Massachusetts after a long, harsh, snowy New England winter. The scene was serene, but wrong. Everything about it was wrong. The renewal of life, time marching forward… it wasn't supposed to happen. The universe had taken from them, and was now acting like it didn't care. It was laughing in their faces pretending it was okay to have a perfect day.
Sophie stood still in the yard loitered with marbled plaques shaking. The weather was temperate, she was bundled in a cashmere sweater, but still she shivered; nothing could keep her from the cold, not since…
"We're gonna be late." Nate said standing behind her. She hadn't noticed his presence until he said something. Sophie turned around to see him in his black suit donning large sunglasses that she could only assume meant to cover bloodshot eyes and dark circles that accompanied them. She could tell by the scent of his breath that he had lost his latest battle with sobriety.
"I, um… I don't know if I can do this." She admitted. She was a seasoned con; the absolute best in her game, she had spent years fooling everyone at times even herself, but then, on that day, she didn't trust her ability to get through the next half hour without completely falling apart. The last time she saw Nate, or anyone else on the team, they were standing in the hanger just long enough to watch the Lincoln pull away before turning from the circle, or… could it be called a circle? Not with a missing… more like square.
"I'm sorry." His voice broke taking in all the blame on himself.
Sophie shook her head. "Just hold me." She pleaded; she couldn't handle another apology not when she couldn't offer the forgiveness or solace he was soliciting her for. She couldn't give him anything; it took everything she had to keep herself upright and she wasn't even sure how long she could do that without help.
Nate grabbed her arm and helped guide her through the grounds where they found the commune of people huddled by a tent. She recognized most of people the there; Cora, Willie, the owner of his gym, the family of the local Farmer's Market were among them. The casket was closed, per his request, a subject that had been only too casually discussed after she buried her own persona. Next to the dreaded box was his image. Perfectly preserved was the chestnut hair that fell to his shoulders, those crystal blue eyes, that half smirk that he typically only reserved to melt the heart of a female prey, and those strong, sturdy shoulders that they had all grown accustomed to leaning on.
Hardison stood next to Parker leaning his weight against the trunk of a sycamore. He had tried to place his hand on her back in comfort, but she had stepped away. Moisture sat at the bottom of his eyes as he was clutched tightly to the tissue in his palm. Parker stood silently, almost hollow, not a tear in her eye and looking past everything. Sophie wasn't sure if she knew anyone was there; she wasn't convinced she was even there… not on any conscious level.
Within moments Father Paul stood up. He couldn't deny Nate's request to fly in from Chicago for this, not after what the team had managed to do for his congregation. He started by talking about what it meant to celebrate life. He spoke about the choices people make, and the highways they take; the directions they go and yet somehow always finding the way they were meant to go. He brought up family; the one you're born to, and the strength of the bonds made in the one you make for yourself. And finally the tragedy that comes with being taken away too soon. "I'm now going to open the pulpit for anyone that would like to say a few words." The priest invited them.
Everyone looked around for anyone strong enough to come forward; all hoping someone else would do it. The Father looked to Nate directly in encouragement. After hesitation he finally came forward. He scanned the crowd over before beginning, near the front he saw Maggie seated nodding to him as she realized this was the first he had noticed her.
"Thank you for coming, and thank you again, Father, for um.. being available." Nate started and glanced over at the picture. He slid the sunglasses off. No one was surprised by the disheveled appearance. "God, I don't know how to do this. Please, just bear with me, here. He, um… was a private person; he didn't tend to let a lot of people in or say much in the way of who he was or where he came from, but ah… life, it wasn't easy; not for what he did, but he didn't let that hold him down. He had seen some truly horrible things, and had some truly horrible things done to him." 'Inflicted some…' He thought to himself. "But he still held on to a passion for life; for music, for the feel of wind hitting his face as he rode… He didn't let a lot of people in; it wasn't because he didn't care, he did, deeply, and when he did he would do anything to… protect… them.
"I don't need a show of hands or anything, but ah… my guess is there isn't many here that he hasn't taken a hit for so that they didn't have to. He hasn't always done the right thing, but um… he a tendency to do things for the right reason. He had more honor, and self-control than I've seen… some have called him a hero, or a champion, but um… to a select few of us he was family." Nate stood silent for a moment trying to swallow down the emotion. "I'm sorry, I can't…"
Father Paul nodded towards the guitarist who started the melody of an old Irish folk song that Nate had picked out for the occasion. After a short prayer the attendants were invited to McRory's for a reception while the team stayed back to watch the casket descend into its earthy tomb. It wasn't until the first shovel of dirt fell over it that Sophie finally broke, the picture had fallen over and the image shifted, his flawless features decomposing before her very eyes until what was left was that skeleton embedded in her memory. She cried out in pure agony…
