a/n: I wrote this a few days ago, the day after I found out another person in my grade at my school died. I was obviously really sad when I wrote this, and a bit delusional I think. I guess you could say I was blinded by sadness, and I didn't like that feeling, so I wrote this to try to feel a bit better. Anyway, there is absolutely no BB in here whatsoever, but at least it ends a bit hopeful?

Everyone seemed to be crying. Sorrow was present in all, like waves against sandy beaches, because they were yet again learning how fragile humans really were.

The first year, Hank had been murdered by a cup of tea from a selfish old lady who couldn't even walk.
The second year, Goodman was in a car accident with his family, a head-on collision that took Dr. Goodman's life.
The next person to die was Nigel-Murray, who was having some fun speeding in open land in a car, with Vincent driving. They had bought the car with lottery money, only to have it flip into a ditch and kill the Brit instantly. Vincent became even more depressed and was now kept on constant suicide watch with little hope of recovering at all.

Words can never really comfort anyone - but the presence of other life near to you, caring for and about you, could. Angela had Hodgins, and vice-versa. Cam, Michelle and Cam's boyfriend all had each other. Russ and Amy had each other, as well as their girls. Daisy and Sweets now had each other; the deaths had knocked a type of wisdom into the young psychologist that he didn't previously have, therefore forcing him to truly understand the complexity of life. How something so intricately created could be destroyed so easily as if the life was a firework, seconds away from exploding.

Like fireworks, after exploding and leaving streaks of fire and smoke in the sky for hours, so life that has been taken can leave marks on those surrounding or in contact. Goodman's children may forever be scarred, Vincent would never recover, anyone who knew or loved Hank would be in shock at his murder or in anger at Hank's step mother.

But also like fireworks, eventually the marks might fade or possibly even go away until some reminder calls them back up. It is for the hope that life will continue and heal these battle wounds of emotion and death that some people find themselves grateful to; for even in the darkest hours the presence of other humans might reassure us of better days ahead. It is for this knowledge, that we will never be alone in the universe (whether we are relying in God, some other deity, or pure human life), that we find ourselves able to conquer the sorrows of death and rise triumphantly knowing that no one really dies after they're dead. They may live on in the minds of others, in history, or in heaven or hell (if you believe in such places). Everyone may be crying, or overcome with grief, but there was hope of better days ahead.