Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Law and Order: SVU. That wonderful privilege goes to the genius Dick Wolf who unknowingly created a load of freaks that write stories using characters he's made up

Now, on with the show.

He stood on the wet grass, silently memorizing the headstone before him. It had been a long time since he'd last visited this place, this city of the dead. The graves that surrounded him brought too many bad memories to mind, too many losses, too much pain. The grave in front of him, especially, brought back so much pain; he had tears in his eyes. He hadn't even really known her, only by face, by the look in her eyes. The pain they held, the pleading. And to think, he had almost let her down again. Almost.

Detective John Munch was a man of secrets, a man of mystery and a man that with held great suffering. He'd lost count of how many times he'd been married, only to get divorced. Lost count as to how many times he had lost a loved one to God. Lost count as to how many cases he'd caught that stabbed relentlessly into his heart, reminding him constantly of some instance or another in his life when he'd gone through that same pain before, the same sense of loss.

He stood there, staring down at the patch of earth before him. Beneath that earth, he could almost see a little girl staring back up at him, telling him over and over, I asked for help and you didn't. I waited day in and day out, only to be let down. Why?

John didn't know the answer to that question, knew he would never understand why he never said anything, did anything. He let a little girl die, just because he was too wrapped up in his teenage crap to give a damn. Yet she waited, day in and day out. Waited for him to say something, do something other than stare up at her and then continue on his way. How could he have been so stupid, so uncaring?

This last case hadn't been easy for him. It brought up torturous memories that he tried in vain to push to the back of his mind with other dormant memories. It had been a little girl and the mere thought of her lying in that hospital bed caused a few tears to slip past his eyelids and run down his face. Getting the mother to confess had brought joy and agony to his heart, though more agony than anything else. He'd gone up to the roof to clear his head, try again to restore calm to his storming mind. Then Olivia came up. He should've known. Should've know that someone would follow him up. Even now, the day after, he could remember what he'd said to her.

"Months later, I'd walk home and look up at the porch and I swear I'd see that little girl standing there with that same look in her eyes. I almost let her down again." He'd nearly cried right then, up on that rooftop in the middle of a bustling city with Olivia standing beside him. Barely contained the grief and tears that threatened to overcome him like a tidal wave after an earthquake.

He'd spent that night at the hospital, praying that Emily McKenna would be all right, that she'd pull through. He didn't care that it probably wouldn't work, didn't care if he was reading a Dr. Seuss book to a girl in a coma. "But on you will go, though the weather be foul; On you will go, though your enemies prowl; On you will go, though the Hakken-Kraks howl; Onward up many, a frightening creek; though your arms may get sore, and your sneakers may leak; On and on you will hike; And I know you'll hike far; and face up to your problems, whatever they are." Those few verses echoed in his mind, even now, hours later.

He'd gone to work the next day tired and disgruntled, clothes rumpled and hair mussed. They'd all looked at him oddly, but guessed the reason to his appearance and let him alone. He'd left work early, driving quietly through the New York traffic and on through to the cemetery where his neighbor had been buried. How he remembered where it was, was still a mystery to him as he stood now, looking at the grey skies that foreshadowed rain.

John stood there for a long time, past the thunder storm that came and went, drenching him in the process, but then again, the weather paid no heed to grieving souls. It wasn't until he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket that he snapped out of his reverie.

"Munch," he answered, voice hoarse after being silent for so long. He nodded once, twice, then swore. "I'll be right there," he said quietly. He looked down on the grave one last time before walking away, his steps quickening the farther he got from the burial ground of that little girl he'd let down so long ago.

A/N: WARNING, THIS IS NOT THE END!!!! There is one more chapter. Keep reading.......