The next hour passed agonizingly. Phoenix hadn't been able to maintain himself. He'd gone vacant while he stared into the distance, unable to focus. Miles had been sitting, strangely untenanted when the door finally opened and another man walked in, a clip board full of papers in his hand. He looked to the pile of sleeping bodies on the couch and smiled, something about it seemed overwrought. Phoenix decided not to wake them before he'd turned to face the other man who'd turned to meet Miles and Phoenix's damp eyes. 'Well, we've got enough results back to have an idea of what happened and I have some very difficult news.' Phoenix froze. 'Mr. Justice has poisoned himself.' Phoenix collapsed into the chair behind him. 'We've found several troubling things in his system.' Phoenix looked up, he didn't need to prompt for a continuation. The room seemed to hold its breath for him. 'I know this is going to be hard and I'm very sorry; but unfortunately I have to be the bearer of bad news.' Phoenix looked up, gaze locked on the figure in front of him, waiting. 'Apollo is no longer with us. I'm terribly sorry for your loss.'

Phoenix collapsed to the floor, pain flaring in his chest. He howled aloud into his hands, waking the others who stared at him, fear flooding their faces. He couldn't hear the others in the room, time stood still. 'Apollo is no longer with us.' The words seared Phoenix's mind. 'No... No... No. It can't be!' His voice thundered between his ears. 'It's not true, please, it's not true!' Phoenix gripped the sides of his head and dug his fingers in trying to feel something. 'It's not true. It's not true! Tell me it's not true.' He whispered to himself. His head pounded as he cried out, a long, drawn out howl of agony while Miles' worked to snap him out of it.

Once the initial shock faded, the others had taken up the offer to say their goodbyes to Apollo. Phoenix couldn't bring himself to follow. He couldn't face Apollo right now. He was responsible for this. He was the reason Apollo had poisoned himself. The reason that Apollo wasn't sleeping comfortably in his bed. The reason his body was now on a cold table, in a strange place and the reason he had died alone. The reason Apollo was now dead.

Phoenix finally stood, panting and barely able to steady himself. He needed to see him, no matter how much it hurt. He needed to say his goodbye, to address this. Phoenix stumbled slowly down the corridor. Everything passing in a haze. The whiteness of the walls, the cold, vacant passage seeming to close in on him. Phoenix tried to brace himself, unable to accept what he'd been told. His mind flashed back to the attack. Apollo had been taken to the same room. The memory of Apollo laying bloody and broken, but still clinging to life flashed across his vision, bringing hard tears to his eyes.

Phoenix took a deep breath and placed a hand softly on the door. He paused, trying and failing to collect himself before he hesitantly pushed the heavy gate, taking a difficult step forward. The others had cleared, but Phoenix could still hear Trucy screaming as she was led away; her distressed calls for Apollo now fading into the distance. Phoenix wanted to run to her, but right now, he needed to see Apollo. Trucy was safe with the others. Phoenix slowly walked over to the table, it was now eerily quiet, the surreal atmosphere unsettling. Everything seemed to be going everywhere yet nowhere at once. He looked, unable to focus at first; his eyes finally cooperating when he'd wiped away the moisture, focusing as he dropped to his knee.

Apollo was on his side and looked somewhere between tortured and peaceful. His eyes were slightly open, just enough so that Phoenix could see the deep brown he'd grown attached to; yet the usual light in Apollo's eyes had now faded. Many tubes and wires obscured his tiny body, the endotracheal tube laying disconnected from the ventilator that had kept him breathing when he couldn't do so on his own, the only tangible indication that maybe he wasn't simply sleeping this off. The longer Phoenix stared into Apollo's face the more somewhat sad, yet neutral his expression became. Phoenix's mind flashed back to the courthouse, the same look, the same position, the same fear and guilt Phoenix had been confronted with when they'd found him alone in the courtroom, unresponsive, flood though him. Phoenix didn't want to accept it, but he knew it was true. This time he wasn't going to regain consciousness. He wasn't going to be alright and he wasn't going to walk into the office a few days later; nor was he going to take him home, hold him and support him while his wounds healed. Apollo was gone.

Painful tears slid from his eyes as he stroked Apollo's temple, slowly smoothing the fly aways back; his pale skin cool to the touch. Phoenix closed his eyes, trying to force the stinging liquid from his vision, unable to find any words to say while he continued stroking Apollo's hair, taking in its' softness, its' texture one last time. He slid his palm under Apollo's cheek, brushing his thumb under Apollo's eye. 'I'm so sorry.' Phoenix finally sobbed, fully in tears. 'I'm sorry.' Phoenix whispered again, spilling his soul in to the words, knowing his apology was completely worthless while he moved his hand back to Apollo's head, trying and failing to cope with what he'd never hoped he had to.

Phoenix ran his hand over Apollo's body, his death appeared as though it hadn't been quick or painless; he looked as nevertheless he'd suffered while he'd died. The longer Phoenix looked into Apollo's dull eyes, the more his expression turned scared, pained. Whatever had happened, it had caused Apollo to die in distress. Phoenix's throat closed with unbearable sorrow. His gaze falling to Apollo's hand. It was as if in his last moments, Apollo was reaching out for someone, someone who wasn't there. Phoenix moved his hand towards Apollo's, grief tearing him apart. He hesitated before placing two fingers under his palm and his thumb on the back of Apollo's, massaging the stiff skin. He waited forever for Apollo to take hold, but it never came. The words had hit shallow, but this, not getting that expected response was when the reality finally hit; when it finally sunk in. Apollo was dead and there was absolutely nothing he could do.

Tears still flowed freely as he let Apollo's hand rest softly on the table. Phoenix inhaled heavily and slowly while he shift a lock of Apollo's hair back from his face that had fallen. Phoenix steadied himself, it was time, but he couldn't let go. He leaned forward, towards Apollo's ear, stabilizing himself. 'I'm sorry. I wish I could fix this. But, I can't change the past.' He sighed; staying in place for several minutes, pressing his forehead to Apollo's, his tears leaving small stains on his cheek as he tried and failed to say his goodbyes.

Phoenix hesitated before pulling back from Apollo's body, lightly running the back of his hand down his side; still unable to come to terms with Apollo's untimely passing. He sat with Apollo for what must have been nearly an hour. He couldn't leave him. Phoenix looked over Apollo; he had wasted away and there was barely anything left of him, the scaring above his eye still visible. Phoenix finally stood, still looking down at Apollo before he couldn't take the pain any longer; the regret agonizing. Phoenix hesitated as he placed his hand on Apollo's shoulder trying to think of something, anything he could say or do to say his final goodbye to Apollo. As he looked down, he'd paused. Instead of grabbing his jacket on the way out the door, he'd grabbed Clay's. Phoenix stood, shocked. He'd found it strange that no one had said anything about it. Phoenix quickly shrugged off the jacket, holding it in his hands while his heart stopped. He ran his fingers through the fabric, trying not to dwell on the memories it brought while he closed his eyes and hugged the article to his chest. Finally, Phoenix placed the jacket over Apollo, tucking it around him, tucking him in for the last time. Phoenix sighed, there was nothing more he could do as he leaned forward, lightly pressing a kiss to Apollo's forehead and whispering, sadly knowing Apollo could never have heard his words; 'Goodbye sweetheart. I love you.'