A/N: Another chapter! You are now free to bask in my glory!

Disclaimer: I do not own Body of Proof, or else Nic Bishop would definitely be in season 3 (and 4 and 5 and 6 and 7)!

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A CHARACTER DEATH, SO DON'T HATE ME, BECAUSE I WARNED YOU!

XoxoX

Chapter Seven: Loss

Joan Hunt was eighty three years old when she died. It happened on June 19th, two days before Sammie's 9th birthday.

Megan had gone last-minute shopping for her birthday present. Joan, being eighty three, had offered to take care of the little girl, since Lacey was working that day.

Sammie had been making a valiant attempt to draw every single detail of her lunch using only crayons, when there came a crash from the kitchen. Sammie got up from the table, grabbed half of her sandwich, being too lazy to draw it, and headed for the kitchen.

"Gramma?" She said through a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly.

Samantha Dunlop was not a particularly active person. She liked reading and art, but the only time she was ever hyper was when on a sugar rush. But when she walked into the kitchen, half eaten sandwich in hand, she sped up as time stood still.

Joan Hunt was trying to hold herself up using the kitchen sink for support. She gasped for air and clutched at her left arm as she sunk to the floor, pain in her chest nearly causing her to black out.

"Grandma!" Sammie dropped her lunch on the ground and ran to her grandmother's side. She was so confused. "What's going on?"

Joan tried to speak, but the only words that escaped her lips were. "Call…hell…"

Sammie assumed that meant "Call help!" and nodded furiously, running for the living room. She picked up her grandmother's cell phone. Who should she call? Her teacher said that, when there's an emergency, you should always call 911. But Sammie never listened to her teacher, she just sat in the corner and used marker to draw stick-figure animals on her hands. So she dialed her mother's number – she had taught herself a little song to remember it – and listened to it ring. Once, twice, three times before Megan picked up.

"Mother, what – "

"Mom, something happened to Grandma! She was in the kitchen and she fell, I think she hurt her arm. She told me to call help." She explained.

"Oh my god. Sammie, was Grandma holding her left arm or her right one?" Megan asked, dropping the toy she had been looking at buying.

"Which one is left, again?" Sammie was only eight years old with a short attention span, so things like that were hard for her to remember.

"You write with your right hand." Megan explained.

"Oh, it was her left."

"Okay, Sammie. Hold on, I'm on my way home right now. Megan forgot about shopping, grabbed her purse and nearly ran for the toy store exit, high heels not really helping in this mission. "Sweetie, you need to listen to me. Look in the cabinet in the bathroom and get out the bottle that says 'aspirin' on it."

"But you said not to touch any – "

"Samantha Dunlop, I know what I said! Listen to what I'm telling you now!" She yelled, opening her car door and putting the key in the ignition.

"Okay." Sammie ran for the bathroom and swung open the medicine cabinet. She tried to sound out the word "aspirin" as she went, trying to figure out which bottle was which. According to her third grade spelling abilities, it would be spelt A-Z-P-R-E-N. But, upon not finding such a thing, she asked her mother "How do you spell it?"

"A-S-P-I-R-I-N, it's on the bottom shelf. Sammie, you need to be fast!"

"Oh, I got it! What do I do now?" the eight year old asked, closing the cabinet and shaking the little white bottle.

"Take out two tablets and give them to Grandma." Megan cursed into the phone – which she regretted later – as the traffic light turned from green to red and about six dozen trucks – apparently driven by morons who didn't know how to accelerate – drove into the intersection.

Sammie put down the phone as she tried to open the bottle she kept twisting the cap, but nothing happened. "It won't open!" She told the phone.

"Line up the arrows on the side of the lid, then flip the cap up." Megan instructed.

"Oh, I got it." Sammie said. You learn something new every day!

Sammie ran into the kitchen and handed two pills to her grandmother, who didn't respond. "Grandma, Mom said to give you this." She explained.

Joan's eyes opened a bit, then closed again.

"Grandma, wake up!" Sammie shook Joan's shoulder. "Grandma!"

XoxoX

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Megan had said those words hundreds of times. It had been to families and friends of victims, but she hated when people said it to her.

She had never realized how hollow the words were. Of course everyone was sorry, but she didn't feel like they were. It was just a line in a script that every doctor is given.

Megan had heard those words too many times. When her father died, she had heard them. When Dani died, she had heard them. When her unborn child died, she had heard them.

And she heard them when her mother died.

It was probably one of the worst days of her life. Over many years, Megan had started to grow closer to Joan. They were even friendly, on occasion. But knowing that Sammie had been in the room, watching Joan Hunt die slowly from a heart attack was the worst feeling Megan had ever felt.

It was loss, grief, anger, resentment and guilt all piled into one.

Two nights after Joan's death, Megan sat down with her daughter. "Hey, baby." She had said, sitting next to the girl on her twin size bed. Sammie hugged her favorite stuffed rabbit and looked up at her mother.

"Hi, Mom." Samantha had grown out of calling her "Mommy." She had already finished the third grade, she was practically old enough to drive.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Megan asked.

"Okay." Sammie sat up, pulling the bright pink comforter up to her chest.

"I just want to know how you've been feeling since Grandma died." She said, brushing a long blond curl from her daughter's face.

"Okay, I guess." Samantha said.

"Are you sure?" Megan asked.

Sammie paused. "Yeah, I just miss her is all."

"Me, too, sweetie. Me, too."

XoxoX

I'm evil! I can't believe I actually did that to little Sammie…I hope you liked it! Thank you, my fantastical reader people! So this was my first character death! So… sorry, I guess! I just wanted something sad to happen. So…yeah.