Title: ashes to ashes

Summary: He wondered if it was going to be that way from that day on, always aching. Always scarreed. Missing a piece of himself. Wondering buts and what ifs, untill his last everyone because they were there. Hating her because she wasn't any longer. Hating Earl and God because... beacseu HE had sent a bloody damn angel to save her, just to allow her to die. Post series.

Author :Little_firestar84
Rating:
t
Characters:
ensemble.

Disclaimer:
Nope. No way. I'm not affiliated with them. And I don't own them.


He Didn't look at his back. He just couldn't. Because... there was nothing. She was gone. Only...only that junk was left. He had thought... that it could mean something. That it was a good thing. Kind of like... a sign.

Now, he wasn't so sure any longer.

He looked in front of himself, where the ring had fallen. Part of him was tempted to go looking for it, but he wasn't so sure he had such a strength, nor that it could mean something. She had never seen it, after all, never known of it, never known that he wanted for them to matter. It was just a piece of metal, a useless and expensive piece of metal, just a reminder of broken promises and wasted time. Nothing less, nothing more.

It certainly didn't mean anything for them. All because they had been cowards. All because they had wasted time.

And now... Now, it didn't matter any longer.

He wanted to go looking for the ring, and yet he didn't want to.

He wanted to run, and yet, he couldn't.

He wanted to forget, be mad, angry, hate her, but he knew it was impossible.

As imperfect as Grace had been, he had loved her. He still did. And that was hurting the most.

It was like ghost pain, after you lose a limb. It was there, and yet, it wasn't. He loved Grace, was hurt because of her, and yet, she wasn't there. She had done nothing wrong. Just dying. Which, he had always known it was a possibility. He had been a cop long enough to be aware of it.

He knew that feeling. He remembered it. Even if... was that how Grace had felt like after she had lost her sister in the bombing? Yes, he had lost someone too, like everybody, but it wasn't family. Family... he guessed you never really got over it. Was it how it was going to be from that moment onward for him? Always aching. Always scarred. Missing a piece of himself. Wondering buts and what ifs, until his last day.

Hating everyone because they were there. Hating her because she wasn't any longer. Hating Earl and God because... because HE had sent a bloody damn angel to save he, just to... just allow for her to die.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't.

He broke down, falling on his knees, and he cried, cried like he hadn't done in a long time. He cried for himself. He cried for her. And because he should have never... thought something like that in the first place.

And then, just as he realized it, just when he understood his error...He felt piece and awareness like never before, a warm hand of his shoulder, transmitting the sensation to his whole being, inside out, and someone chuckling, just there, at his back, but when he turned, nobody was there.

Everything was the same, and yet...

He stood, and ran down the hill, back to the warehouse. Firefighters tried to stop him, hell, his coworkers tried to stop him, even Leo did.. but he wasn't having any of it.

He couldn't. Not when he knew. Not when...when...when he felt it, felt her.

His hands kept moving the sacks of letters, and knew that it had to mean something. It just couldn't be because it was her legacy. There had to be more.

It just had to.

Butch kneeled at his back, and with strength, resigned, he tried to move him away, but to no avail. Ham couldn't see the other shaking their heads, begging Butch to let him leave, deal with things on his owns, but yet, he knew it was exactly what they were doing.- in another world, roles reversed, he would have done the same things.

And then...

Then, he saw a glimpse of something, and underneath tons of paper, he found it- a small, unmoving hands, small fingers, delicate and yet thought. He knew them by heart. he had held them. Kissed them. They had pleasured him, caressed him...

Her fingers.

At his back, Butch stilled, but suddenly everybody was there, and Leo and Bobby and Clay and Dug were there, helping him out, and Rhetta was doing her best to stop crying, but she couldn't. She had cried when they had found the body, so burned it was impossible to say whom it belonged to, and she was still crying now, because, suddenly, she had hope.

They all did.

They moved a sack, and then another, and another one, and suddenly, here she was. Unmoving, but still worm. A shallow breath, a low heartbeat, but alive, and well. Nor burned, maybe just a little dark because of smoke and so on. But alive, and well.

Because of the mail. the mail for the angel cop. the letters for her. He held her like for dear life, crying yet again, but this time tears of happiness, and Rhetta joined him in the embrace of the friend she thought lost, and only when Grace couched they realized they were probably doing her no good.

Ham cupped her face, laughing and crying at the same time, feeling like a fool (fool for love) , kissing every inch of skin as she slowly came back to them, and Rhetta caressed tenderly her hair, just like she did sometimes when they were younger. Suddenly, her shaking hands were right before him, and he held them, treasuring her like he had never done anything in his life. Perry was at their side too, Grace's badge in her hands, almost putting it forcefully on the chest of the other woman, and when the blonde cop skimmed tentatively over the cold surface with their joined hands, he saw it.

The ring was right there, where it had always been supposed to be since he had man up enough to decide what he really wanted, and he really didn't care how it had arrived there. He just kept cuddling her and crying in her hair, thanking God and her savior Angel for this miracle.

Nuzzling Ham's neck, tired, Grace smiled at the man on top of the hill, a beautiful man with salt and pepper hair, funny and sweet, who was smiling back at her, saying hello.

Maybe for the last time.

But maybe not. After all, if evil could bled, and even die...

never say never.