A sad story about loss and moving on. This story was largely inspired by Lindsey Haun's Broken. There's a major character death. You've been warned. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

PsychPsychPsychPsych

She never thought she would be doing this.

If anything, it should have been the other way around. That would have been fair. Her hands wouldn't be shaking, and her heart wouldn't be splintering into shards that could never be put back together. Because she wouldn't be in a position to care.

But that wasn't the case. No, instead there she was, a cardboard box on his desk and her hand glued to his seat. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.

All around her, her fellow officers tiptoed slowly, as though to avoid disturbing her reverie. She appreciated the sentiment, but at the same time, she wanted to scream at them because they had no idea what she was going through. They didn't have a damn clue.

None of them had just lost their partner.

She looked at her injured arm resentfully. She had walked away from the whole situation with a scratch, and they had carried Lassiter out in a body bag. Hot tears filled her eyes, and she slowly opened his desk drawer and began sorting through the items she found. Case files were placed on her desk, and his personal items went into the box she had placed on his desk. His badge, his gun, newspaper clippings…

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she placed each item in the box. When she came to the last drawer, though, she was surprised to find that it was locked. Reaching under the desk, she found the key Lassiter had hidden and easily unlocked the drawer. As she pulled it open, she started to cry even harder.

There were only a handful of items in the drawer, but every one of them held meaning to her. There was a framed photograph of them in their filthy softball uniforms, a snow globe and a box of candy canes she'd given him their first Christmas as partners, a small stuffed bear dressed as a cop, and a brightly wrapped present with a letter taped to the top. It was addressed to her.

Vick came up behind Juliet as she was removing each item and lovingly placing them in the box. "Juliet, why don't you take the rest of the day off?" she gently suggested.

"Chief, I'm-"

"You just lost your partner. Go."

Nodding, Juliet finished placing the drawer's contents in the cardboard box. Then she lifted the box into her good arm and left the squad.

PsychPsychPsychPsych

When she got home, she got into the shower and cried for a half hour. Then she quietly got dressed and went into the kitchen. The box was sitting on the dining room table, and she grabbed a bottle of wine before she sat down at the table. At the top of the box was the gift and letter addressed to her, and she stared at it for a long time before slowly picking it up.

Her fingers trembled as she slowly removed the envelope from the package. Her name was written across the front in her partner's scrawl, and she could feel fresh tears welling up as she slowly opened the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of paper, and each word he had written left her reeling.

Dearest Juliet, if you're reading this, then I'm no longer with you. As cops, we both know the dangers we face any time we go out to a scene, or even to talk to a witness. That's just the risk that comes with this job. We both know that.

Since you're reading this, I assume you already cleaned out my desk. Try not to go hard on the next partner Vick gives you. I know he won't be me, but you'll be senior partner and you'll have to show him the ropes. I'm counting on you to be tough, Juliet. You can do it.

She sniffled and took a drink from the wine bottle. He was proud of her. He had never said that to her, but as she read the letter, she could hear his voice in her mind as though he was standing right behind her.

I never told you this, but I have a will. I had it drawn up a few years ago, and you're the executor of it. Everything is ready. Just make sure nothing goes wrong. I know you won't let me down.

She let out a tearful laugh. It was just like him to try to continue bossing her around after he was dead.

You have the spare key to my house. Keep whatever you want. I know how sentimental you are. But if you insist on selling my guns and Civil War memorabilia, make sure you sell them to the right people. Run background checks, O'Hara.

There's also a gift for you in my drawer. I wanted to give it to you a few months ago, but I just could never find the right moment to do it. I suppose I always thought there would be time. Guess I was wrong. We never have as much time as we think we do.

He had been right about that. She absently ran a finger over the brightly colored package.

You are the most incredible person I've ever known, Juliet. Don't let my death change that about you. You're intelligent and strong, and you'll be just fine. I know you will, because I know you. You can handle anything life throws at you. This is just one of those things. Keeping being that beautiful, wonderful person you've always been. I'm proud of you, and I love you. I always have. My regret is not being there to tell you myself. You deserve to hear those words.

She covered her mouth with a shaking hand as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. He loved her…

Be happy, Juliet. And wherever you go, whatever you do, you know I'll be looking out for you.

Her shaking finger absently traced over where he'd signed his name. Slowly she folded the paper and slid it back into the envelope. Then she rested her head on her arm and sobbed.

"Carlton…"

PsychPsychPsychPsych

Three days later, Juliet finally walked into Carlton's house. From the moment she stepped inside, she could feel his presence everywhere. Without thinking, she reached up and touched the ring she'd placed on a necklace around her neck.

She had finally opened the present last night, and inside was a well worn and well loved Claddagh ring, along with a note explaining the meaning behind the ring.

The sentiment had made Juliet cry again, and when she put it on her necklace, she made a silent promise never to take it off.

As she walked through the house, she could feel Carlton everywhere. Her footfall was deafening as she walked down the hall, into his bedroom.

His bed was neatly made, as if he had just left it, and she wrapped her arms around her abdomen as she sat down at the foot of the bed. He had trusted her with so much, and she was afraid of letting him down. How could she pack up all of his things and sell his house? He was gone, but being there made a small part of her believe he could walk inside at any time.

God, she missed him.

She ran her fingers lightly over the comforter, and as she closed her eyes, she could almost hear him whisper into her ear.

You can do this. I trust you.

Her eyes opened, and despite the weight on her heart, she got to her feet and opened his closet door.

"I love you, too, Carlton." She ran her fingertips along the sleeve of one of his dress shirts. Then she took a deep breath.

She had a lot to do, and Carlton was counting on her.

The End.

A/N: Aww, poor Jules. And now I'm going to hide from Loafer. Thanks for reading, and have a happy New Year, everyone!