Fiona kicked lightly at the rubble. She was on the roof next to where the helicopter had exploded. Sam would join in her a few minutes: right now, he was trying to drag out whatever information the officials had gathered. It was the morning after Michael had gone. They weren't going to waste any time trying to find him.
The place was still a mess, as it was a crime scene under investigation. Yellow caution tape surrounded the area, flapping unhappily in the wind. Fiona heard a loud caw of a blackbird flying above over the buzz of the traffic below and glanced up. Had that bird been here yesterday? Had he seen what had happened? The sound of an ambulance siren reached Fiona's ears from the traffic below and she suddenly made the strangest connection. Campbell had driven an ambulance. Simon had driven an ambulance.
Groaning angrily at the headache forming between her eyes, Fiona bunted a piece of metal with as much force as she could muster. It bounced away from her unwillingly and she could see perfectly in her mind's eye the expression Michael would have given if he'd been standing beside her. As if she were ignoring him, Fiona turned her back, walking away a few feet until something shining in the sun caught her eye.
A knot formed in her throat as she tenatively walked closer, praying to any and all gods that this object wasn't what she thought it was. Her prayers went in vain.
Slowly, reverently, Fiona picked up Michael's bent sunglasses. She pulled them close to her heart, trying to bite back the ridiculous wave of emotion washing over her. They were just sunglasses. That's all they were. It wasn't that big of a deal.
Yet it was. Michael was never without these sunglasses. The first time they'd met, he'd been wearing them. Hell, Management had sent them back to him after he'd jumped out of the helicopter. Even they had known not to just throw these aside and let him get a new pair! These sunglasses were a part of him, a part of who he was.
Fiona had been rather proud of herself thus far. She hadn't broken down yet, even when she'd spent the night, alone and feeling more alone than she had in a long time. She'd been strong, refusing to cry or to display any outward emotion. But the sunglasses must have been the straw on the camel's back, for now Fiona dropped to her knees and cried.
After a few moments of hysteria, Fiona heard familiar footsteps behind her. Quickly wiping away the tears, she stood back up and turned to face Sam. He was looking at her cautiously, uncomfortable with the obvious tear stains.
"Fi? You okay?" he asked, walking a few steps closer. Fiona showed him the sunglasses still tight in her grasp.
"I found his sunglasses," she chocked. Sam's fingers brushed the sunglasses lightly before looking back to his friend.
"We're gunna find him, Fi," he promised. "We're gunna find him."
Fiona nodded, trying to throw up her strong face again. It had the opposite effect. A gasping sob rushed through her and she buried her face in Sam's shirt. Sam froze momentarily and then sighed and wrapped his arms comfortingly around her.
"We're gunna find him," he murmured into her hair. "We're gunna find him."
A/N: I love reviewers and live for constructive criticism!