A/N: Another what-if for "Probable Cause." Because, yes, I am an asshole. And I like hurting people. This is tragically heart-breaking. Move on if it's not your cup of tea.
She hasn't left the apartment in days.
Most of those days have been spent in bed, clutching at his pillows. One of his shirts, deep, deep green, is slipping from her shoulders as she curls herself into the sheets. A desperate attempt to surround herself with what is left of him.
She's not even crying anymore. The sobs have gone dry and she's left with wracking coughs.
Martha and Alexis tried to help at first. Tried to lure her out into the world. His mother was always bringing her food, bowls of soup and crackers and cups of tea. A couple of hours later, she'd return and take away the tray, food untouched.
When she's not filling the empty room with the ragged coughs, she's sleeping. Fitfully, for a few hours at a time.
The only time she's left his apartment was for the funeral. It took all of her force of will to do it again, to stand up in front of friends and family members and talk about someone she loved. Every second was agony, spent glancing at her side, expecting to see him standing there. She expected to feel the burn of the bullet, to feel his weight tackle her to the ground.
But it didn't happen. He wasn't there, not really.
And he won't be. Not tomorrow or the day after or even years later.
She had spent the rest of that day huddled on the floor of the shower, letting the too hot water mask the gasping sobs.
After a week and half of the same thing, she pulls herself as close to together as possible. She doesn't have to wiggle into the pair of jeans because of the weight she has lost, the shirt – one of his because even now, she can't bear to be away from him – hangs from her body.
She doesn't care.
And instead of the bed, she's tucking her feet up onto her chair and staring at the files and documents and records and screenshots of surveillance cameras from the case that claimed his life.
It wasn't him. Couldn't be because she knows him.
She's going to figure this out.
She's going to figure this out if it kills her.