"If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger." ~ Emily Jane Brontë , Wuthering Heights

The days passed, dragging on one by one like exhausted footsteps into weeks, and weeks to months. Autumn had become winter, and winter, spring until soon the heat of summer arrived. The days were much longer, training felt more rugged, and the reprieve of night didn't seem to last quite long enough. 

But that early July evening was cloudy. Roach sighed, leaning against the doorframe outside of Three Elms, staring at his phone as he waited for the others to show up.

"Ghost isn't joinin' us?"

He put his phone in his pocket and shook his head to the Lieutenant. "No, he had some other plans tonight." Roach noticed Wolcroft and Griffen approaching and spoke up a little louder. "What about Stevens, is he coming?"

"He's running late," said Wolcroft. "But he'll be joining us."

Price held open the door for all of them. "Perfect. I think a pint would do him some good." As they walked in ahead of him, the inviting smell of roast beef and potatoes filled his senses. His stomach growled and he covered it with a hand as if to muffle the sound. "Alright, what're we getting, mates?"

"So, then," said Price, stifling a laugh as he swallowed his drink. "He climbs up there with a bloody RPG and just blasts his way through the CQB; I would have failed him, except there's nothing in the rules saying he couldn't use another weapon as long as he used them in real time- no setting C4 and blowing up the whole ship or anything."

Soap chuckled to himself, staring down into his glass. "Wish I had thought of that."

"I wish I had, too. I wouldn't have been second-place to my inferior."

Jessica hummed to herself, looking around the table as all of them laughed. Though she wanted to join in, she couldn't muster so much as a chuckle. She slowly rose from her seat and caught the waitress by the arm, handing her a small wad of cash. With a quiet exchange, they parted ways, and she slipped away from the table unnoticed.

Except Price had noticed. His blue eyes followed her away and out the door. He tapped Soap's arm with a quiet murmur. "Where's Jess going?"

He looked around the table and out the door. "Dunno, she didn't say anything to me..."

The Captain nodded slowly, but stiffly. He lifted himself from his seat. "Gentlemen, don't wait up, I have something I need to take care of. If you're gone before I come back, I'll see you Monday morning." 

Galaxy slipped through the hedge surrounding the cemetery. A welcomed drop of rain fell on her nose and she lapped at it gratefully.The cool breeze that accompanied the brewing storm felt nice stirring across her hide. She came to a stop at Gaz's headstone and lowered herself to a sitting position, closing her eyes against a whisp of rain that slashed across her eyes. "Hey, Gaz." Her azure eyes turned down to a bouquet of white carnations next to his stone. She tried to smile, however weak it was; his family must have been there earlier that day. She extended her forelegs and lay down, and rest her chin on the ground with a deep sigh. "It's been a long day. Roach invited us all to Three Elms, but I was itching to get out of there. I would have brought you some chocolate stout, but I didn't have time on my way out." She sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

"So," said Price, causing her to start at the sudden burst of his voice. "This is where you've been disappearing to every day for the last few weeks?"

Galaxy sat bolt upright. "What are you doing out here?"

The Captain folded his arms across his broad chest. "I saw you walk away, and you didn't say a word... I'm starting to worry about you."

A quiet growl rattled in her throat. "I don't need you worrying about me."

"But I do."

"Why?"

His voice turned rough. "Because you've hardly said a word since the funeral. You disappear every evening, you don't make many attempts to bond with your team... It worries me.:"

"Sometimes I just need to get away... And, sir, I told you, quit worrying about me."

"So then, when should I start to worry?" He folded his arms across his chest and with a strong, wide stance but his expression looked weary. "When you're dead by your own devices?"

"I'm not going to kill myself, Price."

"And how do I know that, hm? If you want to convince me, start acting like the rest of us, and at least pretend you feel a little bit alive."

Galaxy squared herself to him. "And make jokes about him like you do? Pretend I don't notice his absence? All of their absence?" She flattened her ears. "No, sir. I don't think I can do that."

Price slowly walked next to her until he stopped at her side. "You're processing. It's normal. But you'll pull through it eventually."

Gal was quiet as the wind and rain stirred around her. "I've lost friends before, but I never remember it hurting like this... What if I lose more friends on the front line?"

"You'll have to go through it again."

"Will it get any easier?"

"Probably not."

She sighed forlornly, hanging her head. She was hoping for a better pep talk, but this certainly wasn't helping.

Price was quiet, but eventually spoke, just louder than the rainfall. "My offer still stands: if you need help getting through this, I'm here; need to talk, a drink, a shoulder to cry on-"

Her bitter chuckle contrasted the rain."No offense, sir, but I wouldn't be caught dead crying in front of you."

"Not even over a man who you were in a relationship with?"

Unable to contain her horror, she shifted as she looked him in the face. "He told you about that?"

"No, he had no designs on telling me..." He pursed his lips, eyes lowered to the ground. "But you weren't terribly stealthy when you decided to kiss outside the barracks one night."

Jessica swallowed hard, eyes closed. "Alright, fine: so I was in a relationship with him. Crying about it to you won't make him come back." She straightened and took a breath."When my tears can resurrect the dead, I'll shed them, but for now, I need space to 'process,' if you don't mind, sir."

Price sighed, realizing there was no reasoning with her. "Fine. Have a good night, Sergeant Repp." With a dip of his head, turned on his heel and started down the hill.

But he stopped halfway down. Something in him wouldn't allow him to leave her there alone. He turned around and from where he was, he could see her doubled over in front of the grave with her head bowed and arms wrapped around herself. Price quietly approached her, afraid if he disturbed her she might snap at him.

He was surprised to see her tearful, hazel eyes turn up to him, darting around his face before settling on his eyes. She leaned back and turned her face away from him, bringing her hand to her mouth to stifle the sobs. Price held her shoulders and pulled her to his side as she wept, his own heart aching at her tears.

A shrill gasp pierced her lungs. "What did I do, Price? I was right there, why didn't I save him? Or Griggs? I... I could have done something..."

He hummed and squeezed her tighter. "You were hurt; there was nothing you could have done... Or any of us for that matter."

"But what if I hadn't let my injury stop me? I could have afforded to lose another life if it meant they die. What if-"

"Wondering won't change what happened." His brows pinched together sadly. "We all wish we could have done something, but there's nothing that can be done now."

She felt powerless. It felt like she was punching in the wind, pleading with a stone wall that something could have been different. The weight sank in her chest and she laid her head against his shoulder, another sob wracking her body.

"If there's nothing else good to take form this, we took care of Zakhaev. The bastard's gone, he didn't get away with what he and his men did to our team." He tilted her chin up. "He didn't win; we did. And if Gaz could have seen it, he would be proud that his sacrifice helped us get there."

Jess nodded, wiping away a tear. "Yes, sir... I'm sure he would."

She hadn't expected it when he pulled her to his chest in a hug. It was warm and strong, but gentle enough not to crush her. She rested her chin on his shoulder and breathed in a deep, shaky breath, and released it in a whisper just barely louder than the rainfall. "... Thank you." 

Price held her out at arm's length with a reassuring grin. "Why don't I drive you home? Don't want you catching a cold now."

As they walked away, she stole one more longing glance at Gaz's grave. Though she still missed him and wanted more than anything to hold him one more time, she felt the smallest sense of peace. Price was right. He would have been proud, and that was better than missing him.