Hi folks, thanks for your lovely comments and feedback on the last chapter - muchly appreciated. FWIW, I've been warned this one should come with a slight tissue warning...

Happy reading =)

"But ask yourself this: Have you ever lost someone you love and wanted one more conversation, one more chance to make up for the time when you thought they would be here forever? If so, then you know you can go your whole life collecting days, and none will outweigh the one you wish you had back." – Mitch Albom, For One More Day

"Matty, you should go home," she says softly.

"Mom," I protest, "I am home."

She gives me a sad smile as her eyes grow watery. "No, you're not. Your home is in California with your wife and daughter."

"Mom-"

"Matty, they need you," she interrupts.

"And you need me," I reply, locking my gaze with hers. I'm overwhelmed by the depth of sadness I see in her eyes. The spark has disappeared, and that scares me. I don't want to leave her like this.

She reaches out a hand and cups my cheek. "I'm okay."

"Mom," I protest, knowing she's anything but okay. None of us are okay.

"Okay," she concedes, "I'm not okay. But I'm…coping."

"I can stay longer, Mom. It's not an issue."

"It's right in the middle of your season, Matthew. You're missing games."

"That's not important, and I'm not going anywhere," I argue stubbornly, as I feel tears begin to form and blink rapidly to banish them. "You need me here. He would've wanted me to be here. He always said family was more important than anything else."

"Yes, he did," she says with a wistful smile. "But I knew him longer than you did, and I know for a fact that he would've told you to get your ass back to California to be with your family."

"But-"

She shakes her head, interrupting me. "It's okay. You can go home."

"Mom-"

"Matthew," she says sharply and I find myself a little startled by her tone.

I meet her gaze, knowing full well that she's far from okay. I've watched her walk around the house with eyes red and puffy from crying. I watched as she tried desperately to console Tegan, trying to keep her own grief at bay so she could be there for her daughter. I watched as she comforted her friends, and let them lean on her as they grieved the loss of their friend. She had managed to keep a tight rein on her emotions around us, but the fact that she hadn't been able to sleep in her own bedroom spoke volumes to me. That and the fact that I'd heard her crying late at night.

The day of the funeral she'd held it together until Aunt JJ mentioned what a beautiful day it was. For whatever reason, that was the moment that the dam broke, and all of a sudden she was a raw bundle of emotions. She'd cried before then, yes, but I could feel it the moment that her protective shield came down.

Eventually everyone made their way home after offering their condolences and reminiscing about their favourite memories of Dad. I could tell the day's events had worn down Mom's strength – physically and emotionally – and I knew I'd have to begin to try and convince her to let me take her home. I glance over at the bench where Tegan is seated and find her leaning on Lincoln's shoulder as he rubs her arm in an effort to comfort her.

"Hey, Em," I hear Aunt JJ say as she comes around the corner.

"Jayje," she says with a tired and sad smile. "Hey."

She doesn't say anything else as she opens up her arms and hugs Mom tightly. I see Mom return the hug just as tightly, and I feel my heart clench, knowing how much this is hurting her. They break apart, and Mom turns to greet Uncle Will who had arrived shortly after Aunt JJ.

"Hey, Will."

"Hey, yourself," he says, opening up his arms for a quick hug. "Matt," he says with a nod as he gives me a quick hug. "This is probably a stupid question, but how are you doing?" he asks, turning back to face Mom.

She smiles sadly and shakes her head. "I don't know."

"You know we're here for you, Em," JJ says softly. "Anything you need. Anything at all."

"I know," Mom says with a nod. Her gaze drifts away from her friend and toward the front of the room, where a few floral arrangements sit. Silence takes hold as Aunt JJ and Uncle Will watch Mom carefully, a mixture of concern and sympathy in their expressions.

"Did Pen leave already?" Mom asks suddenly, breaking the silence that had settled into the room.

"Kevin took her home," Aunt JJ answers with a nod. "She was…well…"

"A bit of a mess?" Mom supplies.

"Yeah."

"I saw her a little before the service, but I didn't get a chance to talk to her, I don't think," Mom says with a frown.

I blink as I feel my stomach clench in worry. She had talked with Aunt Pen. I was there. Aunt Pen had tried to make a joke about the world losing one of its finest human specimens, but hadn't been able to get it all out before sobs overcame her. Was it just the grief, or was this a symptom of something else? Was my mother's mind starting to wither away?

"She'll be in touch, I'm sure. I can almost guarantee she'll swing by with some baked goods of some kind. You know her, her default response to this kind of thing is to bake."

"Yeah," Mom says, clearly somewhat relieved by this information. Evidently she was worried she had neglected to provide support for one of her closest and oldest friends… That was just like Mom – always putting us, or Dad, or her friends before herself. She'd always been unselfish like that. To a fault some would say.

"It was a beautiful service, Emily," Uncle Will says, breaking another bit of silence that had taken hold.

Mom just nods, her gaze fixed on that floral arrangement at the front of the room again. I get the feeling she's not really looking at anything in particular, just fixing her gaze on a spot as she gets lost in her thoughts.

"Yeah," Aunt JJ agrees. "Beautiful day too."

And with those words, for whatever reason, Mom's carefully constructed defences come tumbling down. She turns to face Aunt JJ and I immediately reach out to support her, because she's looking rather unsteady on her feet. But Aunt JJ reacts faster, and immediately has her arms wrapped around her friend tightly, essentially holding her upright.

I blink in shock as I see and hear the heart-wrenching sobs escaping Mom. She can't catch her breath, and the sounds of pure grief escaping her sends punches to my gut, and stabs to my heart. It seems everything's finally caught up to her, and she's unable to put on a brave face for her friends and family anymore. The grief is pouring out of her and I realize that I've never seen her look so small before.

Aunt JJ's hand rubs up and down Mom's back, just as a mother would comfort a child. I begin to wonder how many times they had been in this kind of situation before… Uncle Rossi, Uncle Aaron, Grandma, Nana... Not to mention that they'd probably watched colleagues die in the line of duty as well. They'd been through a lot. Exactly how much, I wasn't sure, because they all tended to be a bit tight-lipped about these kinds of things.

Many years ago, I asked Mom once who her best friend was. I remember that I'd been a little frustrated that she'd responded with "your father". I guess I'd been hoping for a different answer. I'd pressed her for more details, asking after him, who was she closest with. "Your Aunt JJ then. She and I…we've been through a lot together" she'd answered cryptically, and it had always made me wonder just what else was in their friendship's past.

I hear another choked back sob accompanied by shuddering breaths and I look at Mom's pained expression, knowing it's likely mirrored on my own face. I feel my heart clench again, and I realize that it physically hurts me to see Mom's grief. In a show of weakness that would surely have made Dad cringe, I bow my head as I feel my own tears form. I can't watch. I feel Uncle Will's arm wrap around my shoulders tightly as I struggle to keep a hold of my tears and my own grief.

"I- I can't- breathe," Mom says in between sobs, her breaths shuddering in and out frantically. I feel a painful sense of powerlessness wash over me as I realize I can't do anything to help her. I glance over and find Tegan has noticed Mom's breakdown as well, her gaze meeting mine ever so briefly as we share a look of helplessness.

"Shhhhh," Aunt JJ soothes. "It's okay. In and out. Nice and slow," she coaxes.

"I- I-" Mom tries to speak, but she gets stuck on the first word as her breaths don't even out.

"Shhhh," Aunt JJ says again. "In and out, Em. Just breathe. Just breathe."

"I miss him," Mom finally manages to whisper, her voice sounding so utterly broken and laced with pain and regret.

"I do too, Em. I do too."

"He promised me- He said-"

"I know, Em," Aunt JJ says, tears falling down her face as she too mourns the loss of her friend.

Moments pass with Mom gripping onto Aunt JJ tightly, as though her life depended on it. Eventually Mom's breaths become steadier, and she appears to regain some composure. She pulls away from Aunt JJ and wipes her tear-stained face. "I'm sorr-"

"Don't you dare apologize, Emily Prentiss," Aunt JJ scolds gently. "We're here for you," she says firmly, leaving no room for Mom to argue.

"Come on, we'll take you guys home," Uncle Will says softly.

Mom shakes her head. "I…I'm not ready. Just…give me a minute, please," she says as she looks away from us. She seems to just stare at that same floral arrangement again, but a few moments later when she turns back to face us, she seems more grounded. She just needed a minute to collect herself. To centre herself.

"Ready?" I ask softly.

Her eyes find mine immediately and she nods. "Let's go home."

"I'm sorry," I apologize softly, bowing my head at her sharp tone. Even as a grown man, I still feel the guilt and shame that accompanies that tone. "I just…I can't stand leaving you like this. It feels wrong."

"Like this? Are you implying there's something wrong with me?" she says, trying to crack a joke and lighten the mood. Her efforts are in vain though – everything is still too fresh for jokes. I meet her gaze and her forced smile drops immediately at my expression. "Oh, Curious George," she whispers, using my childhood nickname, "I'm gonna be okay. It just takes time."

"How long?" I ask softly, knowing full well that she doesn't have the answer.

"As long as it takes," she answers softly. "Now go home to your beautiful daughter, and that wonderful wife of yours. Go be the man your father raised you to be."

I shut my eyes and bow my head as I feel the tears flood my eyes. God, I miss him so much. He'd always been such a presence in my life. So much so that it just feels wrong to know that he's not there anymore.

"Oh, Matty," Mom whispers, pulling me into her arms. For just a moment, I feel like I'm a child again and I let myself melt into her strong arms. How she can be so strong in the wake of such sadness and grief and tragedy, I will never know. But that's the thing about mothers, I think. They've got this indescribable strength within them, so that even when they lose their other half, their soulmate, their best friend, they can still be strong for everyone else.

"He loved you so much," she whispers as I continue to grip her tightly. "You and your sister…you were the highlight of his life. And he was so proud of you two. He was proud of the man you've become, Matthew. Don't you ever forget that."

"I won't," I promise her, knowing it's just as important for her to hear me promise it as it was for me to hear those words.

She releases her hold on me once my grip loosens, and she wipes away a stray tear from my cheek. "You know, he was terrified to hold you and your sister once we brought you home," she says with a fond smile. "But once he got over that fear, he never wanted to put you down."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he always used to say that there would come a point where you and your sister would refuse to be held, and he wanted to make sure he got his fill before that point. It broke his heart the first time you asked not to be tucked in before bed because you were a big boy."

"He was a great Dad," I say quietly. "I just wish I'd told him that."

Mom's eyes fill with fresh tears as she gives me another sad smile. "You did."

"But I-"

She smiles, and for the briefest of moments I see the faintest spark in her eyes. "I have several years' worth of Father's Day cards that say you did."

I shoot her a grin before a light laugh escapes my lips. She'd be okay. We all would. It would just take time, I think.

So...how did you like it? Did I kick you in the feels with it? Was it believable? Let me know.