She had watched.

Through what seemed to be a murky glass, she had watched.

Day after day, she saw the pain, the agony... and she understood. At least, as much as she could understand. Because she'd been there for those six long years. She'd seen the love between them. She'd seen the attention he paid to her, the way his eyes lit up whenever she was around.

That was obvious.

But she'd seen the changes in her best friend as well, seen the way that slowly she opened up in ways that she herself had been unable to get her to. No one had, until him. And as the years passed, she'd watched the cold shell formed after so much fear and pain just slide away, inch by inch, until there she was, the woman that she'd never let herself be, laughing and crying and just living through every moment.

Those had been the good times, the times of her life she wasn't sure if she'd see but that she'd never wanted to end. Because they'd all been happy. Beyond happy.

And then it all came crashing down.

A phone call.

One moment, laughing and discussing the latest case... joking, teasing, complaining about how he had to spend the day helping out another unit at the FBI and wouldn't be around to take her to lunch... the next catching her and pulling her into her desk chair as the phone clattered loudly to the ground.

She had watched, silently, painfully, the way her friend's face had gone white. The way it stayed white the entire ride to the hospital. The way it never regained its color for over five hours in those hard plastic chairs. The way it shone with tears after the surgeon finally came out.

She had held her, through the sobs, through that night back at her apartment.

She'd watched the way blue eyes full of laughter disappeared forever, the way they hardened into orbs of silver, darkening and flashing in warning. The way they faltered, agonizingly, whenever his name was mentioned.

Never once leaving the lab for that first week... unable to be convinced to even go home to sleep... she'd watched her fade away. She had watched as she stopped eating without even noticing it, and each time she attempted to drag her out to get something, she would bite her lip and get that 'about to lose it' expression.

Then she'd have a choice... to either stay and wait out the storm or to leave and hope that things would eventually get better. She had tried both, in that order, and eventually just stopped.

She continued to watch, though, continued to hope.

She went to the funeral; her friend stayed resolutely at work.

Dark hours filled the day, and she had known she was losing more than one friend. She hadn't known what to do, but who truly would have? That was what she'd told herself.

There had been the stage of denial... then the stage of anger... then she'd just stopped coming to work entirely.

She'd found her at his place. Moving all her stuff in. Sleeping in his bed, staring blankly at his walls, going about things robotically. She had watched her sell her old apartment.

Then she'd watched as she boarded that plane, and cried as she wondered if things would ever, ever, go back to some level of hope and happiness.

She had watched... as weeks went by, and the world seemed to move on. Their other coworkers... they fought through it. They worked, they joked, they mourned and coped.

She called her, finally, after weeks. Asked her when she was coming back. Learned she was not. Flew to Canada to see her.

She watched, through the following month, and she worked to regain the trust that used to be so simple. And then she sat beside her as they went home. And she held her hand as she sobbed out everything on the floor of his apartment.

They'd been in love... and it was gone. They had been the closest that she would have ever allowed... and she had lost him. There was no pain greater, nothing worth going through that again for.

She had watched, and she had known that things would never go back to the way they were. Because he was gone, because she would never give her heart again. She herself would never even get it back the way it had been before. She had her friend... physically. But she watched the blank stares, and felt the long silences. And she mourned for both losses.

She watched, fearfully, as her friend began to drift away again... until the day she blatantly said his name. And then said it again, and seemed unable to stop herself as she recounted as many memories as she could, her voice rushing until words stumbled over themselves and she couldn't even seem to speak straight anymore... but yet she couldn't stop either.

And she had watched as the first smile in that year since he'd gone graced her lips. She'd seen the way her eyes softened somewhat, the way a hint of blue teased out from behind the cautious pools of grey, and she'd seen the wonderful sight of warmth fill her cheeks. And she'd regained her hope.

She'd been there, through each relapse, through each horrible breakdown and agonizing session of wondering whether or not she had been a good enough friend, to both of them.

She had learned more about the both of them than she ever could have while he was still alive. She knew every secret, every last memory, and she knew that all of it wasn't given to her through trust, but simply because her friend needed someone to listen, someone to remember.

And then she had watched the first hints of illness. The first signs that something was wrong. She had watched the shock on her face at that first appointment, the way her face whitened in a way it had not done in so long... when they told her the news. And she had held her hand clenched tight just as she always had over the long months prior... and she had cried with her.

Because she was truly losing her now, and they both knew it, despite whatever hope she might have held onto that she might get to keep at least one of them with her forever.

And she had watched, as her friend lost the vigor she'd regained, as she stopped going out in the field. The coughing fits, the obvious pain... the way her face fell into a dull acceptance as she sat in the passenger seat for yet another trip to that hateful sterilized building, where they would try yet again to fight off what was taking its toll on her.

They would fail, again and again.

She watched, through tear-filled eyes, as she saw the acceptance in her friend's eyes for the first time. As she saw the way the blue depths suddenly held a new expression... one that she did not want to see. One that meant she was giving up... and she was willing to do so. She was ready to do so.

She didn't want it to be true, didn't want things to change again... but the world had other plans. It always had other plans.

She had watched, from a hard metal chair, holding her friend's weak hand, as she slipped away, as her eyes fluttered shut and the last breath whisked out into the air.

She had watched, as the casket was lowered into the ground, and she had said her piece to a crowd that would never understand exactly what they had all faced. What her friend had faced. She had touched the cold stone, and spoke a few words, to the both of them, side by side, and then she had watched as the first snowflakes made their way down to melt on the freshly dug ground. And she had watched them gather, for over an hour, as she wondered if things would truly ever be okay. If it was possible, anymore.

And standing now, staring out at the crowded pews... she found two empty spaces, right in the front. That was where they belonged, where they would be if life hadn't been so cruel. She watched them, in her mind, bickering quietly as the music played. Saw the way her friend smiled and the way he returned the same expression, and the way her eyes closed as she tilted her head back just a fraction when she laughed at something he said. The way the corners of his eyes crinkled.

She watched, as they disappeared and the world came rushing back. And she tried to forget it all as she grabbed his hand, as they went together out of the building, as they made their way off. And she tried not to imagine what it would be like if her true maid of honor had been present, and his true best man.

He knew, though, what she was thinking, and he whispered, "I remember," to her as he squeezed her hand. And as she squeezed back, the faintest of tears in her eyes... she wondered, wishfully, if they were out there somewhere, together... watching.