McCoy's weight keeps me pinned to the ground but when he eases up my instincts take over and I force myself up, knocking him back. I'm on my feet and I stumble around to the other side of the coffin, putting it between myself and the rest of them. I hear Logan's metal claws unsheathe. I snap my head in his direction, staring at him, waiting for him to make the first move.


Not taking my eyes off of him, I point in the direction Emma's wails are coming from, "Just get her outta here. I don't want her here now." Movement from McCoy catches my eye for a second as he tells one of the others to take Emma somewhere else. Somewhere safe...away from me.


I'm not going to hurt her. I just don't want her to see me like this. She thinks I'm some invincible giant, that nothing can hurt me. But I can be hurt and I can't remember a time when the pain made me sick to my stomach like it does now. I can't remember a time when it made me ready and willing to tear my own heart out just so I wouldn't feel the pain anymore. Is this what this is? A broken heart? I'd laugh if it didn't sound so pitiful.


I kneel down next to Birdy's coffin, crossing my arms, pillowing my head. Jesus, this isn't fair. Birdy's dead and I'm losing it. I honestly wouldn't care except now there's Emma and as heartless as people think I am, she's my little girl and my instincts are telling me to take care of her, protect her, to not let anyone hurt her. But I don't think I can. I'm falling apart.


"Get up, Creed. Yer little drama show's over. You ain't turnin' this inta some kinda game," Logan hisses at me. God, shut him up. He's nothing but an ignorant little prick. Of all people, can't he see this is fucking killing me? No, of course he can't. Because he never needed someone to help him. The golden boy himself never needed someone to help him hold onto whatever humanity he had left...never needed that soothing calm for his raging monster. He never needed someone because he could do it for himself. So I guess that makes me less of a man. Because without the one person who knew my fucking *soul*...I'm nothing.


I look at Logan's grimacing face one last time before closing my eyes. When I open them again, I'm looking at my hands. Dark and wet with my own blood, smearing across the glossy casket top. My hand brushes against some of the yellow roses of the arrangement, staining them bloody. I snort bitterly at the ironic scene in front of me. Birdy's joyful yellow tainted forever by my vicious red. The irony is lost quickly and I grab the flowers violently, tearing them, shredding them.


Their scent hits my nose quickly, assaulting me, almost causing me to turn my face from them. My quiet, rumbling growl turns into a massive roar. The bundle of flowers is torn apart in seconds sending pieces of flowers floating soundlessly to the ground. As the final petals fall, I stand tensed, ready to strike, my breaths coming hard.


For the first time in a long time, I'm lost. I don't know what to do with myself, I don't know who to strike out at, who to hurt. Is this Fate's way of getting back at me for everything I've ever done? That must be it. This is Fate trying to tell me, Victor, you've caused enough pain. Now it's your turn to feel it. I think it is. I don't think I like it very much.


The rain is coming down harder now and umbrellas pop open, sheltering the few remaining mourners. My vision blurs as I relax and stare vacantly at the streaks of blood on Birdy's casket. Clear raindrops splatter the red to make a depressing watercolor that trickles over the edge and falls to the ground. I reach up with my bloody hand and brush my hair from my face. I place both hands on the casket's top, leaning on it. Even in death, she's helping me stay upright...helping to keep me standing. Did she know how much that meant to me? I never told her. But she knew, right? She could read my thoughts. She must have seen, must have felt... I hope she did. Because I never told her.


As the rain begins to pour down heavily, people hurriedly make their way back to cars, their feet splashing in quickly growing puddles. Only one other still stands in the rain, his newly lit cigar glows orange in the darkening afternoon sky. He looks at me, tilts his head slightly in question. I look away, towards the ground at my feet. A single, yellow rosebud lies in the bloodied mud next to my shoe. I bend down and pick it up. Using the sleeve of my jacket, I clean off whatever blood the rain hasn't yet washed away from the casket top. Gently, I place the rosebud on the coffin. I let my hand stay for a moment. I don't think I'm ready. I look up at Logan, saying nothing. He gives a nod and turns, walking down the hill to one of the waiting cars. I look back at the rose, vibrant yellow against the silver casket. I close my eyes, wishing more than anything that she could hear me now...hear me when I tell her, "Thank you."






I need so
To stay in your arms
See you smile
Hold you close

And now it weighs on me
As heavy as stone
And of bonechilling cold