Disclaimer: Yeah, i don't own the characters.....you know the rest.
He stood at the gates of the cemetery, hating the fact that he was there again in so short a time. Just the other day he had stood within these gates, mourning the loss of a little girl, forgotten by many, remembered by one. He'd wondered then how could he have let a little girl die at the hands of her mother, and he'd done it again. He'd let her down, let Emily down. All that praying for nothing. He should've known better. Should've known that praying to a God that hadn't helped him before wasn't going to miraculously work. The world didn't spin that way.
Detective John Munch finally brought up enough courage to walk through the gates and he joined a small procession leading to a distant plot of earth squared off for a coffin too small to hold an adult. Only a child could ever fit into a box that size. As he took his seat, he pulled out a sheet of paper from his pocket, slowly reading over it before the ceremony began. He listened as her father spoke and then was led back to his seat, crying. Just the simple act of the father crying made John want to cry himself, but he remained strong, though for how long, he didn't know.
It came to his turn to speak and he looked to all the faces, both familiar and strange, as he made his way up to the platform. He stood, setting the piece of paper on the podium and examining the faces of the crowd before him. There was Elliot, Olivia, Fin and Captain Cragen in the row where he had been sitting. The girl's father, stepfather, half-brother and stepbrother sat in the front row, there out of respect more than love.
Finally gathering the strength to start, he did. "A lot of people would say that the little girl in that coffin had so much ahead of her. Many people would say that it's a shame that she died this early in life. Many would think to the future, to what she could have been, should have been. I, on the other hand, looked to the past, my past. It was only a few days ago when I stood in this same cemetery and mourned the loss of another little girl. A neighbor of mine from when I was a teenager.
"I didn't know Emily that well. All I knew was that she suffered a blow to the back of the head, which eventually caused her death. All I knew was her name, her age and some small details of her case. I was asked to speak today because of my past, my memories. Not all of them, but one specific memory that this case called to mind.
"When I was a teenager, I would walk home from school and every day I'd see the little girl across the street standing on her porch. Some days she had a black eye or a bloody lip, but I was too wrapped up in my teenage crap to give a damn. Her eyes always had this look to them that I could never quite place. One day, she wasn't there. I found out later that her mother had thrown her through a plexi glass window, killing her. I remember going to her funeral and seeing her father. It was the first time I saw a grown man cry.
"A few days later, when the mother was being arrested, I heard her telling my mother that she didn't know what the big deal was, she was the one who had to buy a new window." He paused, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly before continuing. "Months later, I'd walk home and look up at that porch and I swear I'd see that little girl standing there, with that same look in her eyes." He paused again, looking away from the crowd, wiping his eyes and sniffing. "I let that little girl down and now I let down Emily." He sniffed again. "I'm sorry," he whispered as he gently placed a hand on the small coffin beside him.
As he made his way back to his seat, he heard people crying quietly or sniffling. He felt tears slipping past his defenses and rolling down his cheeks. The closer he got to his seat, the faster they seemed to fall, and by the time he collapsed into his chair, they were running freely down his tired face and falling to the ground. He took his glasses off and placed them on his knee as he tried to stall the flow of tears, but it was useless, they refused to cooperate.
Somewhere to his right he heard Fin saying his name over and over again, trying to soother him. "John, John. It's all right. Let 'em fall, man. Let 'em go, let 'em go. I'm here, man, I'm here." And he turned to his partner and suddenly buried his face into Fin's shoulder, the tears staining his friend's jacket. Fin rubbed his partners back and whispered softly in his ear as John let all the pain, all the memories wash over him like a swollen river of hurt, smoothing the years' bumpy ride in one long stream of tears.
Later that day, as John watched the coffin being lowered into its hole of earth, he swore to himself silently that this would be the last funeral like this he ever attended. As he watched, the skies opened up and let their tears pour down on him, but then again, the weather pays no heed to grieving souls.
A/N: snif Is it the end? sob, sniffle I think so, but if popular vote say to continue, i shall rack my brain for another chapter, though I think this quite finishes it, don't you think?