A/N Sorry this chappie has about five different names... I thought of calling it Afterwards while I was scribbling my idea down on a piece of paper during school. But after I'd actucally finished the chapter I wanted really badly to call it Rain instead... so it's now both. ^w^ Anyway, this is the last chapter of this story (I think...) If anyone reallyreallyreallyreally wants me to actually write a story about the case (yeah right...), I just might if I have a good idea about what it is. I dunno, this little Fanfic of mine probably isn't going to get that much praise. Anyway, here it is... the finishing thoughts to add a note of finality. Plus a pretty (haha) poem I wrote about this story.
It's that day again
I can never forget that year
You were my best friend then
And so suddenly you weren't here
It doesn't get easier with time
I'll never not feel the pain
It haunts me every day and night
A never-ending rhyme
It's an old wound opening up, with each time tearing more
Because like you, I couldn't give it all
And I remember again that day full of noir
As the rain begins to fall.
The Last Case
Chapter 3/ Epilogue: Afterwards/Rain
I opened the door to my small cottage slowly. Flora was sitting at the table as I walked in.
"I'm back," I said, making my way over to her. But there was no need. She stood up as soon as I spoke and came up to hug me. I pulled her close, still struck with sadness. I stood there for a moment with her in my arms, resting my chin on her head. I felt my jacket dampen as she cried silently.
"Are you going to be okay?" I asked quietly. She backed up a step from me and wiped her eyes.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she reassured me. "The kids are in the other room. They wanted to see you before going to bed."
"Alright, I'll go talk to them," I said softly, kissing her forehead. "You just sit here for a moment, alright?"
Flora nodded, unable to speak as another tear trailed down her face. She quickly wiped it away before I turned around to go into the living room.
That was why I had to make this trip alone every time. She'd come with me before and had ended up crying herself to sleep every time. She couldn't bear it. But she always told me that she was glad it hadn't been me.
I had a different opinion however. I think Flora would have found herself someone to pull her through life without all the painful reminders if I had been killed, like I should have been. Though then again, she might not have lasted that long.
I stepped into the living room, hanging up my tear-stained jacket on the coat rack and slipping my shoes off. Instantly, I was hit by two speeding bundles of laughter.
"Daddy, you're back!" Hershel said as he ran into me. I pulled my hat off and set it on my older son's head, managing a smile for his sake.
"Now, Hershel, a gentleman never runs inside," I reminded him gently.
"It must have been cold outside!" Celeste remarked.
"Very," I agreed. "It's a good thing you were inside tonight."
My younger daughter let out a yawn as I stood up, ruffling her hair. She looked just like Flora had at that age.
"You two had better get some rest," I remarked. "I'm going to sleep now, too."
"A gentleman needs his rest," Hershel confirmed.
"Precisely," I agreed, kissing their heads and turning them in the direction of the hallway. "Now you should get going off."
"Good night, daddy," Celeste said, smiling back at me as she walked off. I watched them head down the hall for a moment and stood there until I heard their doors close.
Flora was quiet in the other room. It was apparent she wasn't going to come say anything. She was probably crying at the moment, and I knew how much she hated to cry around me. She didn't want to make me sad, though she knew I was always more worried about her.
I followed shortly after the children, trudging down the hallway to our room across from Celeste's and next to Hershel's. I walked across the wood floor slowly, avoiding the clutter of papers that had tumbled to the floor.
It felt like a weight was being lifted off of me as I fell on the bed face first and felt the tears begin to fall like rain.
