For December, the air was unseasonably warm and still, with hardly a whisper of wind stirring through the cemetery grounds. The slumped shoulders of the young woman, kneeling alone on the grounds, were bare, her pale skin cool but not cold to the touch. For once, she was dressed in baggy black pants rather than her usual fishnet tights and mini skirt; she had burned all her skimpy clothing in a fit of rage the night before, after first ripping and tearing the articles as much as possible with her bare hands. She had no need for such clothing any longer, not when she had officially retired herself out of her own chosen mission.

She didn't care any longer who might live and who might die, as a result of her choice. One person's death had taken away what empathy she had allowed herself to feel.

Her black hair bowed forward, half concealing her face, Cassandra Hack hugged her elbows close against her sides, barely feeling the indentation of her chewed, ragged fingernails, digging cuts into her arms. Her blue eyes blurred briefly as she stared at the simple rock before her, and again she cursed herself for its inadequate words. But what could she have said that would sum up in full who Vlad had been, the greatness of the man he was to her and to all the rest of a world who had rejected him at face value? What could she have said that would make everyone understand his kindness, his gentleness, his unintentional humor? How could anyone, in only a few words, understand the sacrifices Vlad had made, the tremendous loss that his death left in the world?

Fuck, she hadn't even known his last name, or if he had one at all. How could she be the only one left to really know and remember him, when she had never truly understood what he meant to her at all?

Not until now. Not until she was left with no one but herself in the world…again.

It wasn't that there was no one left who cared about Cassie. There was Georgia, there was Lisa, Chris, many others she had encountered in the name of slasher stalking who she had tried and failed not to consider as friends. But if she could lose Vlad, the one person who had always without fail been present at her side, how could she even think of letting anyone else take up the smallest residence in her heart?

Just outside the cemetery gates, Cassie knew, the rest of the world went about their lives, preparing for the Christmas holiday as though nothing had changed, and for them, it hadn't. For them, there would still be presents and parties, church services and recitals, visits with relatives and days off work to shop and sleep in. For them, whatever their problems, they could nevertheless still take in the bright lights around them and breathe in deep, feeling the possibility of renewed peace and joy in a new year.

For Cassie, the twinkling lights on the cemetery gate were obscene, almost blinding in their obnoxious glow. The busy, cheery movements and greetings of others she stumbled past grated on her feelings until she didn't know if she wanted to kill them or if it was only she herself whom she wanted to die.

She didn't bring him a poinsettia or wreath, as it seemed that others before her had to place on their loved ones graves. Their Christmases past had been simple, if acknowledged at all, and it had always been Vlad, not her, who insisted on humming along to the annoying seasonal songs on the radio before she could switch the channel. Vlad had been the one who lit up like a child when he saw twenty foot evergreens decked out with colored lights, jolly Santa impersonators holding children on their knees, or fake snowmen with not so much as one inch of genuine snow on the ground around them. For Vlad, Christmas, even without family, friends, or gifts, had indeed been magic.

But he was gone now, and she couldn't bring herself to bring to him even a tiny piece of the trappings he had so enjoyed. It was all she could do to bring him herself. And yet, that was all he had ever required from her, all he ever wanted- her.

She sat alone, her eyes blurred but not releasing tears as she regarded his final resting grounds. For a man who had never truly had a home, it seemed so unfair that his first one would be six feet beneath the ground. Vlad had deserved more in life, and Cassie had never been able to see him get it. Now, she never would- and she would never be the kind of friend, the family, he should have had all along.

She sat with him in a place beyond tears, beyond pain, and waited in silence as Christmas Eve slowly became Christmas Day. She waited, and as the first strains of morning light began to stretch across the sky, slowly, slowly, the heavy grief in her heart began to ease.

Even now, she could not be close to him for long without him giving comfort.