Woman from Division

All Souls Mortuary
Long Beach, CA

Michelle feels like a fraud. After the last prayers, the flag still clutched in her hands, she excused herself from the worried and concerned glances from friends and strangers and walked outside. She wished for a cigarette, suddenly remembering Tony standing in the room and smoking. Even now she can see the smoke billowing out of his mouth and the casual way he held the cigarette. She thought she remembered seeing a cigarette in her handbag, one she used very infrequently, and she went to the car, searching through her pocket book, barely feeling the rain hitting her exposed legs. All she finds is a few old ticket stubs and some money, but not what she needs. Arm resting against the headrest, she swallows a sob, trying to tell herself the hardest part is over. She leaves the flag on the back seat, later she'll worry about a case and protection, but now she can barely stand to look at it.

When she comes back inside, her hair's wet from the run to the car and the tears slipping down her face are indistinguishable from rain drops. Before re-entering the reception room, she leans her hands against the wall and tries to center herself.

At least it's over.

She listened to eulogies from people who didn't know Tony at all and her own speech was short and not nearly enough. She couldn't put him into words, her major accomplishment was making it through without her voice cracking. At home, she might have shattered into pieces, but in public, she was determined to be stoic.

Most of the funeral she spent staring at the white flowers on Tony's casket. They reminded her of the lilies that Elaine grew, the ones she held when he put the ring back on her finger, the one she still kept pressed in a book. The ones she hopes he'll give her again when she finds her way back to Milliways.

If she had her way, she'd have had a small funeral, maybe even just a ceremony. But, her mom had been in charge of planning and one of the few things she approved of when it came to Tony was his faith. She felt he would have wanted a Catholic funeral. Tony's siblings agreed. Michelle felt a small spark of hate for Alex as he talked about Tony, when she thought of how much pain he caused his brother, how he never accepted they were different. And the man Tony considered like a brother, his best man, the man he died saving, was almost unrecognizable. If Jack hadn't been standing with Chris, Kim, and Chase, Michelle would have mistaken him for someone older. He looked sad. No, more than that, beaten. Even through her sorrow, she felt guilty for avoiding him.

But what was there to say? Talking would only hurt both of them. Hearing him apologize would be hard to take and anything she tried to tell him he'd never believe. Jack already thought he was responsible for most of the tragedies in their world. It would only end in frustration and pain.

As she opens the door, a low murmur greets her, people looking at her expectantly.

I'm the center of attention

She really wants a cigarette.

And although she'd felt ill earlier, she picks up a piece of cheesecake and begins to eat, finding that if she stands and nods, people tend to ask fewer questions and move onto someone who is more open to conversation. At first every vow of sympathy during the wake had brought her to tears but now she remembers some of the comments Tony made about people in the room. Her mom's dressed in black, her hand touching Alan's arm and Danny tries to be the protective big brother she no longer needs. Her dad keeps trying to block her from view and Amy pats her hand as if to remind her she's not alone.

I'm lying to all of you and you'll never know

For Michelle, this amount of closeness and support is like a straight jacket getting tighter, but she's already missed her chance to escape.

The only man she wants next to her, the only voice she wants to hear, the only hands she wants holding hers, never will again - unless she can find the door and he has to be there -- for a moment she forgets where she is, imagines she can feel his breath against her cheek and she reaches out her hand to touch his face but it's all gone and she snaps back to reality when her fork hits the ground.

"Michelle?"

A man's voice. Bill. He's handing her another fork, and what she wants to do is run back outside, get in a car and drive off.

Even Chloe's pretending not to watch her movements.

"It slipped away," she says, accepting the fork and taking another bite of cake.

Bill nods. He must know she means more than the fork.

You're not Tony.

"You don't have to be strong, Michelle." He says softly.

He said those same words before and that time she'd held onto him tight.

But he's wrong, because if she breaks again now, she'll never come back. She can't let everyone see her fall. Her pain is private.

"Tony's dead, Bill. What else can I be?" She puts down the plate and willingly walks back into her family's smothering embrace.