Peter shivered and wrapped his coat tighter around him as he skirted the marble gravestones around him. The funeral procession was slowly making its way away from the gravesite, with mourners stopping to reminisce with each other. Letting the other people pass around him, Peter stopped and looked back at the coffin being lowered into the ground. The clouds covering the sky only served to make the grave look even lonelier.
Turning away, Peter walked towards the black car parked between several other FBI issue vehicles. Elizabeth was leaning against the car with concern etched over her face and Peter understood that he must look like hell. During the last week the few times he'd been able to fall asleep had been just as bad as being awake, every time he closed his eyes he was back at the warehouse, with chaos breaking out all around him. He could still hear the screams clear as day if he let his mind wander.
Elizabeth wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. "Are you okay?" She asked quietly, even though she full well knew the answer.
"Not even close," Peter answered truthfully, "But it's getting better."
"Come on." She pulled the car door open. "I'm driving."
"Elizabeth, I just want to go home," Peter said, sensing that home was not where they were headed.
"Home is the last place you need to be right now. You need to remember that that," she gestured back to the gravesite behind her, "Is not your fault. You need to move on or this guilt trip you are putting yourself through is going to kill you."
Peter remained silent, staring out the window. As much as he wanted to forget, he didn't know if he ever would. Some moments just couldn't be erased from his memory.
***
"Come on Neal, look at me!" Peter pleaded anxiously as he felt his partner's blood soaking through his hand. Around him, every agent had pulled his or her gun and was opening fire on the stream of guards flowing from the building. The crowd of refugees was running in panic, all of the civilians taking cover wherever they could, many running into the trees surrounding the complex.
Peter couldn't see Gadson anywhere in the confusion of the firefight, but another man was approaching, ignoring the bullets flying around him, focusing all of his attention on Neal and Peter. Peter saw his hand go to the holster on his side, but before he could pull his gun Peter fired twice, hitting the man twice in the chest.
Turning back to Neal, Peter saw that his partner's breathing was becoming more and more labored, and he could barely find a pulse. It seemed to take eons for the ambulances to arrive, and Peter couldn't help but wonder if they were already too late.
***
The inside of the church was loud, the noise amplified by the echoing through the large sanctuary. Ava pushed her way out of the crowd of people, her head was about ready to explode and all of the people shouting directions to her and each other were not helping.
Outside was cold and gray, but for now it was quiet, and that was what she needed. She collapsed heavily on the stoop and caught her head in her hands.
Crowds and loud noises were often quickly proceeded by panic attacks and hyperventilating now, and Ava didn't know how long it would be before she was able to walk through the mall or go to a concert without having to find a quiet room to catch her breath.
***
Instinct took over as the crack of a rifle sounded. Ava pushed her way through the crowd towards the door Gadson had appeared out of. Before she knew it, she was firing at the man, some of the bullets flying wide, others hitting their mark. In no time at all, her clip was empty and Gadson was lying on the pavement. Around her she heard the telltale clicks of guns being reloaded. Agents were firing into the crowd of guards and the men coming out of the building were firing back. The agents were better marksmen, and the crowd of attackers was quickly diminishing, but Ava heard screams from behind telling her that some of their people, be it FBI or the civilians, had been hit.
One by one, the men threw down their weapons and put their hands up in surrender. Apparently Gadson wasn't paying the men well enough to risk their lives for him.
She felt lightheaded. A person could only run on adrenaline for so long before burning out. She had every intention of laying down in the back of a squad car and taking a well deserved nap when she noticed one of the ambulances that had arrived pulling away from the others. It was then that she noted Neal was nowhere to be seen, and at the edge of the crowd, an agent was leaning over a prone form.
It was like running through a dream, or a nightmare. She reached the agent as the paramedics pulled the body onto the stretcher and a small sob escaped her. Neal was pale as ice, and there was so much blood on the ground, she couldn't believe he was still alive. The paramedics worked as quickly as they could to get Neal into the ambulance. One of them said something to her, but she was too in shock to hear them.
"M'am," the man repeated, "Are you riding or not?"
Ava nodded and climbed into the van. It looked like adrenaline was going to have to carry her a bit longer.
***
As her head cleared, Ava looked around at the church courtyard. The wedding flowers and white balloons looked oddly out of place against the stormy sky, their bright, clean colors shining brightly in contrast to the dark surrounding them.
I suppose there's some kind of cosmic metaphor for this, Ava thought, smirking a little. I never was very good with metaphors though.
With that she pushed herself off the step and turned back towards the heavy oak doors. The bridesmaids were probably having panic attacks of their own; Ava was missing and she was supposed to be getting married in a little less than three hours.
***
Elizabeth put the car in park in front of a large, white church decorated with balloons and flowers in varying degrees of pink. She pushed her door open and glanced over at Peter, "Here we are."
"So what, going to a wedding is automatically going to cure me?" Peter asked sardonically, stepping out of the car.
"There's someone you need to talk to." Elizabeth said. She locked the car behind her and began walking towards the church.
"I already talked to Detective Hannigan. She was at the debriefing."
"Although I'll admit it wouldn't hurt to talk to Ava in a location without FBI agents and cops recording your every word, that's not who I was talking about."
"I lost four agents," Peter said angrily, "and you want me to talk to some person at a wedding?"
"First of all, what happened wasn't your fault. They were good agents but if it hadn't been for you, a lot more people could have been hurt. Second off, this isn't just for you, he needs to talk too."
Peter could tell that Elizabeth wasn't going to back down, so he let himself be led through the oak doors into the pre-wedding chaos.
***
The woman looking back from the mirror reminded Ava nothing of herself, she had on blush giving much needed color to her cheeks, and her eyes were lined with a subtle blue eyeliner and light eye-shadow, garnishes she had never bothered with. Her hair had been twisted and pulled for the better part of an hour, and a net of pearls decorated the finished product. Finally, she had been pushed into a tight, white strapless dress. That was taking the most getting used to, seeing as she hadn't worn a dress since her senior prom.
"Stunning," a voice said from behind her. Ava whirled around to see a familiar dark figure leaning against the doorway. His voice sounded strained, but Ava could tell he meant it.
"I thought you were supposed to be in the hospital."
"And miss the wedding of the woman who saved my life?" Neal asked, coming into the light of the room. "Not a chance."
He moved slowly, and his arm was in a sling to keep the stitches from tearing, but he looked a hundred times better than when Ava had seen him a few days before at the hospital.
Ava resisted the urge to hug him. After being held hostage with him for more than a day, and then waiting another twenty-four hours at the hospital while the doctors tried to save him, she was glad to see Neal somewhere they wouldn't be shot at or tortured. "Did you charm your way out against the doctor's orders just to see me in a dress?"
Neal flashed a smile, but his expression turned serious again, "No, I wanted to see you get your happy ending."
Ava didn't know what to say, tears crept into her eyes and she turned away to brush them off. When she turned back, Neal tossed her a long, rectangular box.
"What's this?" She asked, looking up at him.
"Wedding present, you can open it now or later. It's up to you." Neal said, as he turned and walked out of the room.
Ava slid the bow off and pulled off the top of the box and gasped. Inside was an envelope containing round trip tickets to Hawaii and a paper detailing the reservations at a five star hotel. The note underneath read, Have fun on your honeymoon. I tried to pick a place without crazy, murderous art thieves.
***
"Is this seat taken?"
Peter looked up to see Neal standing at the end of the pew, looking uncomfortable. Peter shook his head silently and turned back towards the front of the church. Neal slid onto the bench and sat silently, staring up at the crucifix above the altar. His eyes were distant, and Peter could tell he was lost in thought.
"Shouldn't you still be at the hospital?" Peter asked, breaking the awkward silence, "I thought you weren't being released for three more days."
"Well, there was this one nurse who is a huge romantic, and I happened to mentioned that there was a wedding today that I should be attending." Neal said, smirking a little. Peter couldn't help but smile, only Neal could charm his way out of a hospital six days after having a lung punctured by a bullet.
"You should be resting," Peter said seriously.
"I've been resting for close to a week, the last thing I need is more rest. And crappy hospital food is beginning to wear on my nerves. I hear weddings have much better cuisine."
"Elizabeth did say that the caterer for the wedding was good."
"I also wanted to make sure that you were still alive." Neal was deadly serious, and Peter could hear the hurt in his voice.
"I've been busy," Peter answered evasively. "The whole thing's been a mess at the Bureau, and we've been relocating the people Gadson brought over-"
"Bull," Neal said, looking Peter in the eye. "If you're going to avoid me, at least have the courtesy to tell the truth."
"I didn't think you'd want to see me."
Neal looked at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? You think I blame you? That's the most asinine thing I've ever heard. If it weren't for you, I'd be dead, and so would a lot more people."
"Tell that to the agent whose funeral I went to this morning. Or the three others who died on that raid."
"I'm sorry, and I know you feel guilty about what happened, but it's not your fault. You can't beat yourself up over what happened. It was Mitchell Gadson's fault; he pulled the trigger and started all of this. Not you."
"That's easy for you to say-"
Neal cut him off, looking angry. "You think I haven't lost sleep over what happened? It was because of me and Ava that you and those other agents were at the warehouse. Gadson shot me, and that's what set off the firefight. And yeah, sometimes I can't help but blame myself for what happened, and maybe a part of me always will. But I don't want to live in the past, I want to move on. Because those agents didn't die so that I could lock myself in a room and hate myself for what happened."
Peter was surprised; it hadn't occurred to him that Neal might blame himself for what happened. He had spent the last week faulting solely himself for the outcome at the warehouse, refusing to accept any other explanation for what had happened other than the fact that it had been his fault.
"Please, you wouldn't last one day locked in a room by yourself. There'd be nothing to steal and no one for you to flirt with," Peter said finally in a weak attempt at a joke.
Neal snorted and punched Peter lightly on the arm, "Yeah, you're probably right."
"I'm sorry I didn't visit you," Peter said, but Neal's response was cut off as the organ began playing.
Peter watched in silence as Ava made her way up the aisle. The wedding procession moved slowly towards the front of the church, as Elizabeth quietly slid next to Peter. She squeezed his hand and he smiled at her.
"You're welcome," she mouthed, as the minister began to speak.
Neal watched as Ava and her fiancé said their vows, as the ring bearer brought up the gold bands, as the minister pronounced them husband and wife. The elation on Ava's face was almost blinding, and in some ways, that one moment, made it all worth it.
This is to one last day in the shadows,
And to know a brothers love,
This is to New York City angels,
And the rivers of our blood,
This is to all of us,
To all of us.
"Angels on the Moon" ~ Thriving Ivory
***
A/N- Wow, this is the first story I've finished, and this was probably the hardest chapter I had to write. I have at least three versions of this saved on my computer, and have been wondering how to end this for the last week! Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, that totally kept me writing faster!
BTW: I have a sequel idea, which also has Ava in it. Let me know if you liked the character, and I'll start writing as soon as I can.
(C'mon, you didn't really think I'd kill Neal, did you?)