Valenfield - One Shots/AUs

- Missing you -

Summary : Chris visits Jill's grave and has a good cry.

Status of their relationship in this one shot : Not dating, nor have they admitted feelings, but they are both in love with each other.

Every waking morning, of every fucking day, he can't forget. Chris cannot forget what happened back in August. It rots in the front of his mind, twenty four seven. He can't even say he wishes to forget, because he doesn't, he just wishes the pain could be numbed.

The amount of misery Chris is enduring is too much. It's slowly causing him to shut down. No motivation for absolutely anything.

He misses her, so fucking much. More than he could fathom. His heart aches at the near thought of her.

Waking up has been the worst part of the day for Chris. Sometimes, he wishes he'll just die in his sleep so the pain can fade, and he can end his suffering. But he can't. He knows she's somewhere, she can't be dead, she just can't be.

As his thoughts faded, Chris sleepily walked into the restroom, turning the light on, which caused him to close his eyes. He hadn't been sleeping right recently. Maybe two to three hours every other day. If he tries to sleep, it all just hits him, all those memories of what occured.

"Shit." Chris mumbled to himself, splashing the cold faucet water onto his emotionless face, waking himself up as much as he could advance.

His hair felt greasy, and he didn't feel clean. He hadn't showered in a good week or two, due to lack of motivation. All he's wanted to do as of recently is lay in bed or go on missions, in hopes of being able to take his mind off of all that's happened.

Treading over to the shower, Chris turned the handle of the shower, leaving it on the cooler setting, dreading even the idea of a hot shower.

Looking down at the shower floor, watching as the water streamed quickly into the rusted, small drain.

Chris reached his rough felt hands to his back, pulling off his red, old long sleeve shirt, leaving himself shirtless, his torso full of scars and bruises from his past missions and events he's participated in.

Next, he removed his pants, then his underwear, becoming nude, stepping into the shower, water instantly hitting his fit body, causing him to sigh in vexation, placing his two arms in front of him on the shower wall.

His head was looking down, only the shower floor and his own feet in sight. The chilly water was dripping off of his light brown hair, droplets rolling off his forehead and onto his nose, and quivering lips.

Grief isn't something that has always bothered Chris. You lose teammates, that's the life he lives, but now, grief isn't just something Chris can take with stride, it's now consumed him wholey. Chris had never felt this way before. The fucking guilt he feels is unbearable.

If only he was strong enough to fight that bastard off, Jill wouldn't of had to step in. He could've ensured her safety. He could've stopped it. Instead of Jill, it was meant to be him, that's all he can think about.

"Jill..." Chris muttered out, his voice shaky as he whispered her name. "Fuck." Chris shouted, covering his face as he turned his head up towards the shower head.

While he knew, he just knew, she wasn't dead, he still couldn't stop his broken heart from acting out.

There isn't enough evidence. Her hat and necklace was left behind, on that cold, dirt, moist ground. That day was one of the worst of his life.