Set 7 years after Kate's death. Has a bit of implied Tony/Kate. Reviews are much appreciated and loved. Enjoy :)


He wondered idily why churches always seemed to be open in the middle of the night. He had seen them being used countless times in movies as plot points, places where a ghastly crime was committed or a hopeless case went to find solace in the dark night. He never once thought while he watched the drama unfold on the screen that he would ever be carrying out the latter.

He had went wayward with his faith in his teen years. The typical rebellion against his family's close relationship to religion and the traditions that he had been taught in school. His questioning grew as he did and by the time he was in university he had found better things to do than go to mass every Sunday.

But it was still there. Deep in his heart he knew he would feel the odd calming comfort of the church. He knew he could always turn back to it at any point in his life. And that point had shown itself an hour earlier when he went on a random and slightly tipsy stroll around his neighbourhood.

The door was heavy but unlocked as he let himself into the building. The room large and dark as he walked down the tiled aisle. His footsteps echoing around the room and ringing in his ears as he walked to the front. A single light illuminated the altar, no candles having been lit at this time of night. It threw the crucifix into a long and creeping shadow and he shivered at the sight as he bent his knee and bowed his head in a long before learned habit before slipping into a pew. Candle sticks elongated in their shadow form and a flower arrangement was thrown into sharp relief against the cream walls in front of him.

There was a faint smell of frankincense and the familiarity of the smell made his stomach twist but he chalked that up to the half bottle of whiskey he had slugged before he had left the house.

His knees hit the kneeling board with a soft thump in the silence, his arms automatically going to brace himself against the pew in front. Fingers joining in reflex. Looped between them were a string of pearly glass beads, the light lilac colour catching the weak light. The memories surfaced in his head as he stared at them.

It was late in the evening when he went to the apartment, using his key to unlock the door and tap the code to the alarm system from memory. He took a deep breath and flicked on the light. The room smelt just like it did every other time he had been in it, oddly of lemons and baked bread at the same time as well as the hint of her perfume. He dropped his keys and walked through the room and into her bedroom. He sat down heavily on the bed and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure if he could do this. He had to fly to Indiana tomorrow and had spoken to her mother just hours ago on the phone. She had asked him to pick up a few things to bring to her before they packed up all of her stuff anyway. His gut twisted as he thought about it. All her stuff, stuff she would never use again, never touch. With a small sigh he lay back on her bed and clutched her pillow to his face and inhaled deeply. It was as if she was still there, just for that tiny moment and he could forget all about the reality of the situation. He could nearly feel her comforting weight on the bed beside him, warmth against his side. He could hear her laugh and her breathing and her voice. He could imagine as he inhaled her comforting scent that she was still there with him. As he relaxed into his fantasy his fingers brushed across cool beads and he knew instantly what they were. Swallowing a sob he rolled one of the beads in his fingers and began to softly pray.

He had felt guilty keeping them but as time passed be began not to care. He treasured them too much. They sat always on view in his bedroom and when he would pass them, he would remember and somehow he got comfort from them. He grew attached to them. It was the only thing he had of her, except for the few pieces of clothing that still lay untouched in the bottom drawer in his bedroom. Tony wrenched his eyes open and stared at them before sighing to himself.

Sometimes he would awake in the morning and forget. Forget that all this time had passed and she wasn't there anymore. His heart would plummet and his stomach would twist as he realised. His mind would be thrown into endless memories of her. Her soft pale skin, smooth to the touch and warm against his hand. Her shiny hair that caught the light and smelt like fruit and flowers as he ran his hands through it. Her teeth that glittered when she smiled, her eyes bright and shiny as she laughed. He closed his eyes and tried to hold onto the image longer for as quickly as she came she left again, already it was fading and a lump formed in his throat.

"Seven years, Katie." He murmured aloud. The quiet words sounded out in the silent room. "It doesn't really get that much easier."