Danny barely remembered to grab his wallet and keys before heading out the door with the police officer. His body and mind were simultaneously anxious to get to the morgue and resisting the action altogether, a duality of sorts. He wanted to get it over with; to just get there and have the funeral and be done and move on and never think about it again….and he wanted to never go. To never get to the morgue in the first place, and just go home and pretend the whole thing had never happened.

Never mind that by now it was just after 1am, and he'd only had that measly ninety minutes of sleep, and not much of a dinner. Never mind that he'd only had an hour to process that his wife was dead, would never be home again, his girls would never see their mother again…

His thoughts ran as the police car wove its way through dark San Francisco streets. The ride took forever and it took no time at all. His hands were heavy as they clumsily unbuckled his seat belt and his feet were made of lead as he slowly walked behind the officer to the morgue door. The officer gently led him into a room – a visitor's seating area.

"Wait here, Mr. Tanner," he said. "The medical examiner will be in to see you in a minute. I'll be out in the hallway." Danny managed to nod his thanks as he sank his tall frame into a beige club chair. He looked around at the walls, the industrial carpet, the nondescript coffee table in front of him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. His head was starting to ache, he could feel the throbbing start at the back of his skull.

A swift knock on the door brought Danny back to attention as the medical examiner walked in. She was a short woman, with greying blond hair and steely blue eyes peering at him from behind her glasses. "Mr. Tanner? I'm Dr. Andrews, the medical examiner." She settled herself into the chair to his left. "Before we go in to see the body, I'm going to show you a picture of the face of the woman we believe is your wife."

She offered him the picture facedown and he took it, dumbly, saying "A…picture?"

Dr. Andrews nodded. "Yes, to prepare you. Take all the time you need." And she sat back in the chair to wait. He ran his thumb over the back of the Polaroid and steeled himself. He realized there wasn't actually a way to prepare himself and flipped the picture over. His breath caught in his throat. He had hoped so badly that it wasn't her, it couldn't be Pam, but it was. Her nose, her cheeks, her hair. Her face was unnaturally pale and bruised, but it was her. The ME still sad beside him patiently, waiting for the verbal confirmation she didn't really need. He couldn't breathe again, but he managed to glance at her, eyes filling with tears, and gave her a quick nod. She nodded back and took the picture from him as he buried his head in his hands, struggling to get himself under control.

Finally, after a few minutes, he straightened up and looked at her, his eyes red and nose starting to run. "What do we do now?" He asked her.

Dr. Andrews stood up. "I will take you to go see her, if you would like to." He stood slowly and followed her down the long, white hallway, forcing his feet to move. It must be a dream, he told himself. It's still not real. She led him to the table that held the shape of a human body under a sheet, and started to pull it back, slowly, gently, over the face. He was ten feet away and he knew it was her, but he walked closer and, placing his hands on the table to brace himself, leaned against the table for support as he looked down.

Like in the photograph, it was her. There was a terrible bruise spread across almost the entire left side of her face, and her jaw looked like it had been broken. He could see blood on her scalp that he hadn't been able to see in the photo, and of course her hair was mussed. He wondered if the ME had tried to smooth her hair before bringing him back.

Pam's skin was unnaturally pale, and Danny tentatively reached out a hand to softly touch her cheek with one finger, then as he felt her cold skin turned his hand and cupped her cheek. His vision blurred. What do I do now? He wondered. He'd never considered a future without her. Sure, he'd worried about what might happen if she died before him, but it never occurred to him that it would be so soon. Michelle was just an infant, for God's sake! D.J. and Stephanie were so young and Pam had so much LIFE left to live! With him! With their children! He finally allowed the tears to fall from his eyes yet again. His chest and throat hurt. He managed to take a deep, shuddering breath, and looked up at the ME, still holding his wife's cheek.

"It's her. This is my wife." His voice cracked. Dr. Andrews nodded. It broke her heart to see this young man in front of her, seeing his equally young wife's body on this cold slab. Dr. Andrews knew they had children because of Pam's autopsy, but she asked him anyway. "Mr. Tanner, do you have children?"

Danny nodded. "Yes, three little girls…" He went back to clutching the table with both hands, trying to keep himself upright. "Three little girls who need their mother…" he trailed off again. The ME gave him a sad smile. "Yes, Mr. Tanner. And they need their father, too."

He wondered for a minute if the girls were awake or still asleep and blissfully unaware of what horror awaited them when they woke up. He stood all the way up and took one more look at his wife's face. Impulsively, he leaned back down and pressed his lips to her cold ones. "Goodbye, Pam," he whispered, and straightened up once more. He looked over at the ME.

"Well…I suppose I should get home and start making arrangements." She nodded once more. "I'll go get an officer to bring you home, Mr. Tanner."

Home, he thought. Home. A home without Pam.

Maybe it all still wasn't real.

Chapter 3 coming soon…sorry it's so sad but honestly it's a sad situation!