Title: The State of Kings

Main Characters: Natara W., Mal F.

Synopsis: One thing stands between this type of love. Well, two things. First, place. They weren't in the same place. They were too far away for her liking. Second, people. And that's where he came into play.

Inspiration: "I spend fifty-seven years loving you, my friend, so I guess it all makes sense at the end." -Hank Green

Author's Note: I know this is mildly dumb and lame and whatnot, but I couldn't help myself. I realized I never wrote a chapter about Christmas and I had actually planned to, so then I felt bad. It isn't exactly a Merry Christmas, but I hope you like it. Poor Mal. Poor Natara. :(

Epilogue:

There are strings of popcorn and ornaments strewn and hung haphazardly in any space they could reach. There is a tree twice the size of a normal person sitting in the corner overseeing the event. A table is placed off to the side with cups of drinks and snacks for the guests. But that is what is missing: guests.

For the first time in years, the San Francisco Police Department's precinct is eerily still and silent. The annual Christmas party extravaganza is abandoned.

Instead every officer, every detective, every forensic tech and agent sits in a small building just three blocks down. There are thirty-six chairs in a six-by-six square in the small room. Everyone talks quietly, mostly about the past. Everyone is fairly comfortable except for one man that stands away from the rest, visibly out of place. Chandler Tobias Matton.

"Would anyone like to speak before we begin?"

Mal Fallon begins to raise a hand and step forward, but before he is noticed, Chandler speaks.

"I would."

He walks past the crowd of people so large that they didn't have enough chairs. He walks through the people that don't know him, don't know why he is here, don't know who he is. Mal's is the only face that shows recognition, but he doesn't look there for a friendly face.

"Natara Williams was amazing," Chandler begins. "She was not only the best partner I've ever had, but she was just an amazing person. She was understanding and caring and selfless and kind. She was beautiful but honest and wanted nothing more but to help everyone around her."

Mal's eyes hardened.

"I hardly knew her, and she left such a mark on my life that I'll never forget her, and I never want to. She was the most perfect, amazing woman I've ever and will ever know." Chandler looks to the table to his left that is strewn with flowers. "I loved her so much."

It takes several people to restrain Mal from causing a scene, which is impressive as he is still recovering.

"My turn," he says roughly and shakes them off.

"I would talk about how great of a person Natara was," Mal says. "But that's not what she would want." He looks at the table to his left, then, as well. "Nat, you meant everything to me. I hate that we fought so much. I hate that we were friends too long. We waited too long, love. We could have had so much longer. We were perfect. I'm going to miss you so much, but I want you to know that I'll be okay. I'm going to make it. For you, Nat. Always for you. I don't know how you found me and I don't know how I got out of that. I never would have without you. And I just want you to know..."

Mal stops and pulls a box out of his pocket. He opens it before stepping out from behind the small podium and standing in front of the table beside him, consumed by flowers. He picks a small ring out of the box and slides it on her small, lifeless finger.

"I love you, Nat."

There's a difference between love and desire, between grief and longing. I'll never get to tell Mal that I love him too, that I always will. I'll never get to thank Chandler for braving the crowd of strangers just to say goodbye. I'll never get to apologize for breaking my promise of returning to my friends for Christmas, or tell my parents I'll miss them, or assure my sister that she'll be okay without me. I'll never get to see the day that Genevieve Collins gets taken down for good.

I always used to wonder what life after death would be like. Would there be a Heaven where nothing hurt, where I would be eternally happy? Would I be reincarnated into another person and be given the chance to continue helping people on earth and making it a better place to live? Would I just forever be blissfully unaware, forever stuck in oblivion, a dreamless sleep?

I know I'm not the only one that used to wonder about that, and with my job, death tends to be an immediate option. But the only way to know is experience, and now I finally have that answer as well.

When you're dead, it doesn't matter anymore. You aren't existing, you aren't being. You aren't with your family or your friends or the person you love more than anything else in the world. It doesn't matter anymore, and that truly is sad.

Maybe some people are afraid of that unawareness, that cold, endless oblivion. But I'm alright with it for the moment.

They might not know the answers of life and death.

I do.