And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad
These dreams in which i'm dying, Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run in circles its a very very
The casket was cold and the wood displayed no comfort as she placed her hand on it, causing a shiver to run through her body. She felt vomit lodge itself in her throat, as her fears and mind played in over-time, but she knew her sickness came less from the body inside the closed casket, but towards the knowledge of what put the body into the casket, the event leading up to it, and the lack of closure. Stepping away from the casket and the receiving line, she found a place in the church, her eyes scanning the crowd as she made her way to her seat. She had been thankful when Kensi offered to watch the kids for the weekend. Some demons were best to be handled alone.
Sighing with relief, she sat down as he came onto her radar. Looking up at him, she saw the hurt in his actions just in the way he stood by his fellow pallbearers, who looked equally as sad, but less...damaged. Truthfully, the other pallbearers hadn't witnessed the death the way he had. He was the only one who hadn't been best friends or brother in laws, or anything like that beforehand, but he had been at the man's death bed, and for that he was rewarded with the job of pallbearer. The world was a cruel place.
He glanced up, his blue eyes connecting with her hazel, and words didn't have to be said for the understanding passed between them. This wasn't just a case.
The funeral was lovely, and Nell pulled her cardigan closer to her as they headed outside to the cold gravesite. The wind caught her hair and whirled it around, as she made her way through the car.
"I don't recognize you." A voice called out to her through the crowd, as she found a young women standing next to her. "I'm Lindsay, Charles's niece."
Nell smiled at the girl. "I'm Nell Callen, my husband was with Charles when he died."
The girl smiles a sad smile. "What an awful fishing accident." Because of course, there was a cover up. Charles Neven will be known as a man who died in a fishing accident, netherless it was a car bomb that killed him and almost took Nell's husband with him. But Nell had been in the system long enough, and she knew that sometimes living could be worse then death.
She feels him next to her, as the coffin is lowered into the ground, and just the way he is breathing is enough to believe, he isn't okay. "G," She replies hesitantly, her hand on his elbow. "I'm going to head back to the hotel, do you need a ride anywhere?" She gives him the option to leave and go somewhere, maybe come back soon, maybe never come back, but still she gives him the choice.
He follows her though, surprisingly and unsurprisingly all together, and silently, they enter her rental car and sit in silence as Nell puts the car in drive and turns onto the highway. Looking at him, she grips his hand in hers, "I understand," was all she said, but she could see the way he reacted, the lip curl, the looseness of his hand for a split second, before he turned to the window.
"Something's you can't erase from your mind."
"I understand, G." She responds, but he shakes his head, his anger pulsing through him, it had been pulsing through him ever since Charles died.
"I was right there Nell. Right there. If I would've been one second slower, or hadn't called it in time, I would have been the same thing as him. Dead."
"But, you aren't."
"This doesn't give me any right to check out on you, or to check out on the kids. Or the team."
"Life isn't fair, G."
His sigh cuts through the silence, and finally he turns to look at her, his hand tightening in her's. "I wasn't suppose to live Nell. This was a suicide mission."
She grimaces slightly, "But you did, And I thank God everyday you did." She is quiet for a second, before responding, "Whenever you feel up to it, the kids are waiting for you to call them."
They don't say anything the rest of the way, as tears silently track down both of their faces. Something's just don't need to be said. Charles Neven's brave act allowed G to come home another day, and for that Nell will be eternally thankful. He may be a little broken, but they all were, and that's what allowed them to get up every single day. And Nell's heart is so thankful for her husband, as she watches him sit down on the little hotel couch, phone in hand, as he talks to Josh, his voice showing no pain. She wraps her arms around him, and lays her head onto his chest, glad to have at least one more day with him.