A/N: This is the most difficult thing I have ever written. No fluff here. None. Nada. After spending a night reading mostly angst fics, well, this is what happens. I adore Bobby, so this was damn near torture to write. Was gonna be a oneshot, but I've already started on chapter 2. Hope y'all don't hate it...it sure does hurt...

She sat in a chair near the casket. Barek brought her to the funeral home every morning and her father brought her to Barek's apartment every night. From eight in the morning until nine at night, she was his, sitting in silence by his side, watching over him as she always had in life. It's what partners did.

Then, Friday afternoon, the director squatted beside her chair. "It's time to take him to the church," he said gently. "We'll let you say good-bye, and then we have to go. Take your time."

She nodded. "Thank you," she managed. It was the most he'd heard her say since the day he'd died, when, still in shock, she had made the decisions family members make. He left the room, closing the doors behind him. She was alone with her partner, one last time.

She got up from the chair and walked to the casket. He looked…at peace. Peace…that was something he had never known in life. Even in her arms at night, his sleep had been restless, haunted by dreams he would never share with her. It was the only part of himself he ever kept from her. Tears spilled freely from her eyes, running down her cheeks. "Oh, Bobby…" Her fingers lightly touched his lips…and she imagined his smile. Not just any smile, but the smile he reserved only for her, the one that always made her feel special, at least to him. It was a rare smile, one that reached his eyes, driving away the haunted look that dwelled there most of the time. His eyes…warm pools of chocolate brown that reflected all the pain in the world. The pain of a childhood that should have been happy, but wasn't. A sick mother who tormented her youngest son in the throes of her illness…the same son who lovingly cared for her until she had finally taken her last journey from reality and ultimately from life. A cruel father who beat his young son for any infraction, or perceived infraction, who abandoned his family for a life of drinking, gambling and women, a life he exposed his young son to early, things Bobby had never forgiven him for. An apathetic brother who pulled away from the family, running from their sick mother and abandoning her to the care of his little brother, entering a dark world of addiction from which he never returned. She had no idea even how to find him, if she were so inclined, which she wasn't.

He knew how dark and cruel the world could be. They dealt with that side of life every day. He felt the pain of every broken body they saw. He touched the cold darkness of the criminal mind with every case. He sank himself into that darkness, retreating from the light, until he had figured it out. Then he came back, back to her. He always came back to her. And she was always waiting for him, relieved when the shadows left his eyes and he was hers again. She hated sharing him with that world, but she knew she had no choice. That was how he justified his existence, how he atoned for the sins of his family.

She rested her hand on his chest, making sure the striped silk tie was straight against his light blue shirt. She dusted the lapels of his dark blue suit, the suit she had chosen for his final journey. Damn, he looked good in a suit. Hell, he always looked good…always… "I'm really going to miss you," she said, a fresh volley of tears streaming down her cheeks. "I…I'm really hurting here, Bobby. I never knew anything could hurt this bad, or I could feel so damn empty." There was a vacancy in her life, a hole in her heart, that had once been filled by her big, gentle partner. As big and intimidating as his body could be, it housed a generous heart and a tender spirit, and no one knew that better than she. She rubbed his chest gently. He had always loved it when she did that…he would close his eyes and softly groan, pulling her closer… "You…you're taking my heart with you. Keep it safe." She leaned over and kissed him one last time. "Good-bye, Bobby. I love you and I'll miss you forever." Reaching behind her neck, she unclasped the chain that bore a simple gold cross. He always said he loved how it looked against her skin, and he would play with it sometimes, late at night, while she slept…or tried to sleep. She gently placed it in his hands. "You hold on to this for me," she whispered, unable to speak any louder.

She rested her head against his shoulder and cried, until she felt a hand rest gently on her back. Slowly, she straightened, stepping away from him for the last time. She watched as they lowered the lid of the casket for the last time. She would never see him again with mortal eyes. The funeral director nodded at his workers. They would meet the pall bearers at the church. She straightened her uniform jacket, remembering how he looked in his dress blues. She wiped impatiently at the tears. With a gentle hand on her arm, the director led her from the room, to the black car waiting outside the door. It would follow the hearse, and she would be with him every step of the way to his final resting place.

When a comrade falls in the line of duty, cops respond. Although he'd had few friends in the department, he was still a brother officer, taken too early by a killer's bullet doing his sworn duty, to serve and protect. She sat in the front pew, her father beside her along with the few officers who were his friends, and the captain and his wife. Behind her, she'd noticed Ron Carver and his wife, along with Bobby's friend Lewis, dressed in a suit out of respect for his lifelong friend. She didn't remember any of the Mass. She did remember finally losing her control, a rare show of emotion, of weakness, collapsing in tears in Mike Logan's arms.

The graveside service had been brief. Her tears had come again with the twenty-one gun salute and the playing of 'Taps.' Again Logan had comforted her. The honor guard had removed the flag from his casket, folded it, and the captain of the guard had presented it to her. She was all he'd had, and she'd been everything to him.

Just about everyone had gone, but she remained in her chair, closest to the head of the casket. Logan and Barek remained with her, and so did her father and Lewis. They let her sit there until she was ready to leave. No one was going to tell her she had to leave him. In some ways, part of her would always be here, in this cemetery. A short distance off, several cemetery workers lingered, waiting for the last of the mourners to leave so they could finish their job. They were patient. They would give them all the time they needed to say their last good-bye.

Finally, she stood up and walked to the casket. Leaning over, she placed a gentle kiss on the polished wood. "I'll always love you. Good-bye, Bobby."

Turning to the small group that waited for her, she again sought comfort from Logan's strong arms. They headed toward the cars. She hugged her father, kissing his cheek and whispering, "Thanks, Dad. I'll call you later."

John Eames looked at Logan and Barek, who nodded at the plea in his eyes. "We'll take care of her," Logan promised. John placed a hand on his shoulder and walked slowly to his car. There had been too much grief in his daughter's life. First her husband, and now…the love of her life…and there was nothing he could do for her. His heart wept for her, and for the loss he, too, felt when his daughter's kind-hearted partner died.

She turned to Lewis and smiled warmly at him. He took off his glasses to wipe at his eyes, replacing them and giving her a hug. "He loved you a lot, Detective Alex," he said sadly. "I've known him since we were kids, and I never saw him love anybody more." He wasn't ashamed of the tears that trailed down his cheeks. "Don't be a stranger. I'll feel…connected to him, if you'd just come by to say hi once in awhile."

She took his tie in her hands and gently straightened it. "We'll have dinner, ok?" He nodded. "Thanks, Lewis." She kissed his cheek and watched him walk to his car, shoulders sagging under the burden of his grief.

Logan opened both passenger side doors, waiting for the women to climb in before closing them and walking around to slide in behind the wheel. Pulling away from the curb, he drove slowly away from the new grave.

The cemetery workers waited until the three cars headed down the road toward the exit before they set to the task of lowering the casket into the grave and covering it with earth.

Eames slumped down in the front seat of Logan's car. He looked in the rearview mirror at his partner, whose tear-brimmed eyes watched her close friend. Logan reached over and took Eames' hand. She gripped his hand tightly. Barek reached over the seat back to rest a hand on her shoulder. Eames had been staying with her since the shooting, but she had not said a word about it, to anyone. Softly, Logan said, "We're taking you to get something to eat, Alex. And we're gonna talk."

She didn't answer. She just squeezed his hand tighter and hugged the folded flag closer to her chest, letting the tears fall freely again.

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Logan ordered for the three of them. None of them really felt like eating, but they knew they had to. It had been a couple of days since any of them had eaten a decent meal. He was seated in the booth beside her. "Talk to us, Alex."

"About what?"

"Tell us what happened."

"I…I can't."

"Yes, you can. You have to. You were the only one who was there."

"No I wasn't," she said, suddenly angry.

He grimaced to himself. "You're the only one who can tell us how it went down," he corrected.

She took a few steadying breaths. Haltingly, she described how she and Bobby had chased their suspect, a cop killer, into the dead end alley. The suspect had turned and fired twice. One shot went wild; the other struck home. Before collapsing, Bobby had fired once, taking out the suspect with his single shot. She had put out the call for an officer down and dropped to her knees beside her partner, cradling his head in her lap. That was where the ambulance attendants had found her, holding him, in the alley, begging him not to die. She found out later that he had died in her arms.

Barek looked down at the table, tears rolling down her cheeks. Logan looked away as well, out the window. "Did…did he say anything, Alex?" Barek asked.

She nodded. "He said his chest hurt…and he told me he loved me, that he always would. That's all."

That was all, but it was enough. He loved her. That was all she needed to know.