Compromise-Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw-

Chapter Twenty-Six

I stared at my car, barely able to function. Everything seemed like a blur, like the world was moving around me at light speed, while I moved in slow motion. Blinking took forever, breathing seemed moot, opening the car door was impossible. The heartache I was feeling was beyond compare.

"Sadie." Fish said softly, looking at me from across my car. He was on the driver side, nobody trusting me to drive. "We have to go if we're going to make it to the funeral." His voice was abnormally gentle. He had always had a fun undertone or a sarcastic hint to his voice. But even looking at him, I didn't see his normal twinkle he had to him. Instead he stared at me with sorrow and sympathy.

"I'm not ready." I croaked out, unable to meet his gaze. I heard him sigh softly, before walking over to my side of the vehicle.

"I know." He offered in a sigh, then reached passed me and opened the door. "But we can't be late." He added, guiding me into the car. He closed the door behind me once i was in, and ran back to the drivers side. He got in, buckled, then pulled out of the drive way.

"I can't believe he's dead." I whispered softly, trying to hold back more tears, but failing miserably. I had been crying nonstop for four days, since I got that dreadful phone call. I noticed Fish glance at me from the corners of my eyes.

"Me either." He agreed quietly. I hadn't been allowed to be alone since the phone call. My friends had been taking turns staying with me, comforting me in anyways they could. I felt guilty, because I knew they needed to be comforted as well. Everyone felt the loss, I just felt it differently, more personally. He had been such a big part of my life, one of the most important people in it.

As we drove to the familiar graveyard, I thought of him. I thought of every happy memory I had involving him and felt my heart break more and more each second. With each new break, I silently wept harder, unsure how I still had tears to spare. When we arrived, I seen we had been some of the last to show. Our friends sombrely mingled together, wearing their familiar Black uniforms meant for grieving, the same ones Fish and I were both wearing. I watched as the others looked at my car as it's loud roar grasp their attention.

"Come on." Fish said, turning the car off and going to exit. I reached out and gripped his arm, shaking my head.

"Not yet." I begged, pleading with him to let me just have a couple more minutes. He looked at me, and for the first time that morning, I met his gaze and seen his pity. He looked at me like I was a broken puppy lost in the wilderness, begging to be found. He nodded though, giving me a couple of minutes to brace myself. I slowed my breathing, and prayed for the tears to vanish. I didn't let go of Fish, grateful to have him beside me, to feel him alive. "Okay." I said finally, ready to go. He nodded at me, then got out of the car. I followed his lead on shaky legs.

We walked towards the group together, everyone's eyes on me with the same sorrow and sympathy Fish had displayed. Phoenix came up, in tears of her own, and hugged me tightly, fearing to let go. I welcomed her hug, squeezing back with as much veracity as she had given. When we pulled apart, she wiped her face of its fallen tears, and forced a weak smile my way. I couldn't return it. Smiling seemed pointless. What was there to smile about anymore? He was gone.

Bob approached me next, and though he looked mournful, he didn't feel the death the same way Phoenix and I were. Regardless, he gave me a comforting hug that made me feel warm. He held on for a moment longer then I had, before pulling away from me, and moving on to the next person that needed the comfort. Maverick then faced me, and I seen the loss he was feeling. He met my gaze with a familiar expression, one that read "I know what you're going through." I frowned, but approached him.

"How are you holding up?" He asked softly, staring at me, already knowing my answer. The question made my lip quiver, but I refused to break down here. When I couldn't answer, he nodded gently. "I understand." He said sombrely, averting his gaze to the portrait of our fallen friend. "He died a hero." Maverick reminded, not only me, but himself. I nodded slowly.