The service was sure to be a sad, lonely occasion, filled with rows of empty chairs and broken dreams. Not even Walt's family would attend. Skylar knew she had to be there. Not in support of the man he'd become, but for the man that he once was. Marie wasn't speaking to her, not at the moment anyways. She considered Skylar's attendance of any type of memorial service for Walt a betrayal of the highest form, and besides, now with Hank's body having been found, she was preparing for a memorial of her own.

The room was so eerily quiet that for a minute Skylar forgot where she was. There were no signs of life anywhere to be found, and with not one person there to support her, she found herself feeling particularly alone. Having left Holly with a sitter, she was all alone with her thoughts, waiting for the service to begin. It had taken her so many tries to get someone-anyone- to agree to officiate. She wound up finding someone with a degree from the internet. But it didn't matter. All Skylar knew was that she had to say goodbye to her husband in her own way, even if her family hated her for it.

Of course, Flynn wouldn't attend. He was at a dance with that girl that he'd been talking to; how could she expect him to forsake an evening of fun and normal to say goodbye to the man who'd taken so much from them? She couldn't, and without a word of argument, she allowed her son to go off without a single beg or plead for him to join her in saying goodbye to Walt.

It didn't take long for the "minister" to arrive. He wasn't hard to spot. A twenty-something kid, who probably took this job for his pot money (ironically) so she looked up and stared away, looking for something, anything to comfort her. But that comfort would be a long, long time in coming, in her mind anyways. The walls were bare- no picture of Walt to be seen anywhere in sight.

The words just seemed to go on and on- forgiveness, not judging anyone, heaven and hell. It didn't matter what the kid was saying. All Skylar wanted was to go home to her daughter, but she had to do this. Yes, Walt brought this on himself, but for him to go out alone and unloved- there was something about the thought that really bothered her.

The "minister" stopped for a minute, and Skylar looked back to see what had captured his attention. Much to her surprise was the sight of her son, Walt's son, along with a girl presumed to be Lindsay, his date for the evening.

He took his place beside his mom, with Lindsay on his right side, and so the minister resumed. Flynn said nothing; instead he placed his hand on his mom's hand, and for a minute, they were a family again.

The service was short, lasting maybe fifteen minutes, and devoid of any real emotion. Afterward, Skylar stood up, allowing her son to prop himself up on his braces.

"Why are you here?" she said, numbly.

"It's not for him, if that..that's what you think. I didn't even want to come," Flynn replied.

"Then why...I know the dance was tonight."

"Lindsay said there's be other dances. She..she thought I should be here with you."

Skylar turned to Linday and tried to smile. She couldn't, not yet, but she took Lindsay's hand and shook it briefly but firmly. "Thank you," she managed to say.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry for your...for everything," Linsday replied. "I know this has been hard on Flynn, but I can't imagine what it must be doing to you as well."

"It's really only my kids who matter right now."

"For what it's worth, I think you've done a great job with Flynn. He talks about you all the time," Lindsay smiled.

"He..he does?" Now Skylar was really taken aback.

"I don't want to reveal what he says, but I do know he loves you. He just needs some time to deal with things, you know?"

Skylar nodded. "Would you like to come back to our apartment? It's not much, but you're welcome to join us for some pizza or something."

"I'd like that. Thank you," Lindsay agreed before turning to leave with Flynn.

Her son hadn't said anything, but he'd shown up to support Skylar, and that in and of itself spoke volumes to her.

0000

Meanwhile the phone was ringing off the hook at Marie's home. People wanting to know when the funeral would be, what they could do to help, what she needed. There was only one thing she needed, but there was no one on earth who could provide her with her heart's desire- to be with her husband again.

It was a daunting task, to be sure. DEA officials, cops, friends, family, people she hadn't seen in years- they all wanted to support her at Hank's funeral. She knew they all meant well, but in her heart she didn't even know if she would be able to go. It was too much, too soon, and right after Walt's death, all she had wanted to do was to stay in bed for days on end. After staying at a hotel until Walt had been found and all threats supposedly eliminated, Marie went back to the house she once shared with her husband.

Financially, she was all right. The funeral would be taken care of since Hank had been a Marine, and the DEA force had offered to cater the reception. She'd taken some time off of work, and wasn't even sure if she would return. At some point she would have to- after all, she would soon have a little one to think about. But with her soon to receive Hank's pension and the donations from the force and the community, she had a little time to herself.

She turned the ringer off the phone and went to her closet, then Hank's. Hank's clothes were still there. He had been a big man, a bit on the husky side, but that was one thing she'd loved about him. She'd always felt safe when he was around, like no harm could ever happen to her as long as he was around. But now...

She pulled out one of his old football jerseys- it had been awhile since he'd worn it- and some personal belongings and started a warm bath. This would be hard- her first night alone at her home since all of this had happened. But sooner or later Marie knew she would have to return, so after filling the warm bath with bubbles, she climbed in.

Closing her eyes, she tried to remember everything she could about her last phone conversation with Hank. Something about having Walt in custody. He'd sounded so excited, so pleased that he'd gotten one of the bad guys off the street. And, somewhat out of character, he'd told her he loved her. Marie knew that Hank had loved her, but he'd often had difficulties expressing it to her. He'd considered himself a man's man, and thought that any kind of sentimentality was for chicks, or so he'd claimed.

The candlelit room helped, almost, for her to relax, as much as that were possible. There was so much she had wanted to tell Hank- needed to tell Hank- but thanks to Walt or his cohorts or whoever it was (it didn't even matter anymore who pulled the trigger) she would never get a chance to tell him all of the things she'd always meant to say to him. To tell him she was proud of him, for working so hard to provide for her, to forgive her and overlook her little faults. To never complain (not much anyways) about lasagna being the best meal she could come up with most of the time. To thank her for loving her when at times she hadn't even really loved herself.

And most of all, she wanted to tell him about the baby- their baby. But that day would never come, and instead of the hatred she'd been focusing on Walt, she now found herself feeling nothing but total and complete grief. It was easy to go on when she had a purpose- to bring down Walter White. But now that he was dead and gone, what was her purpose?

Sure, she knew it should be the baby, but Marie couldn't even bring herself to think about that, not now. All she wanted was for this nightmare to end, for her to wake up from the worst dream of her life, but after drying off and slipping into Hank's old jersey, once again all she wanted to do was sleep. She had always, always slept on the right side of the bed. Hank had never complained-it was kind of her thing. But that night she found herself curling up into a ball on the left side, and let her mind wander as she finally drifted off to a much needed sleep.

TBC