"In the flicker of a moment, life can change forever."

Janaea's words were grief-stricken as she leaned against the plaster wall of the living room, her cheeks discolored from runny makeup, shoulders slumped in defeat.

There hadn't been much that Steve managed to say, still in shock himself about a situation that ha seemed so harmless and quickly turned into utter heartbreak.

"It…it sounded like he had hoped to drink himself to death while you were gone. And he'd been smoking some grass. That cocktail must have been too much for his heart when he…he became combative."

Even though he'd meant for his words to sound informative, and most of all, neutral, Steve failed miserably when his voice broke near the end.

Standing in front of Janaea, he'd been trying to offer her privacy while saving her from the sight of the ME making the rounds in the small apartment, talking to Mike and eventually releasing the body to the morgue.

"My father…combative…", she countered and shook her head, "How much this disease must have poisoned his mind already. I'd like to think that my father died weeks ago and this…this person there was no more than his shell. A lookalike with a dark soul."

"It's a…it's a terrible disease for sure.", Steve added, sounding pathetic and hating every moment of it.

Her gaze drifted over to Mike who was organizing the aftermath of the frightening incident with professional efficiency and utmost dignity, keeping his voice low and controlled, not showing his emotions to the outside world until he had a chance to deal with them in private first.

"How is it that you see this every day, and still be a decent human being? Does the finality of death, the chaos and pain never get to you?"

"It does.", he replied too fast, remembering the words Mike had ingrained into his mind for the last few years, "But we do it for the victims. And their families. Sometimes, things like answers, and closure are all that's left to find. It doesn't take way the sadness, but it allows people to…you know…move on with life."

"And move on we must."

When she fell silent for several seconds, Steve saw the tears welling up in her eyes once more, that beautiful face looking decades older in a matter of a few hours.

With the utmost care, he slowly reached for her cheek, caressing it gently in hopes of pulling her out of that shell-shocked state. His plan seemed to work when she leaned into his touch, releasing a long-held breath as she looked back up at him.

"Hold me, Stephen Keller, please just hold me and never let me go."