The War Moon [3]

Eleven|| Burial

||Rebecca's P.O.V||

I sat in the foldable chair in the grass. I was in a simple black two piece, paying my respects to Chris.

After our heated argument inside Haven, the funeral had started. I couldn't look at Hudson or Tristan. I didn't understand why they couldn't accept the fact that we failed the Gifted.

My Father was the only one who tried to do something about the rogues dying, but he died too early, and didn't leave behind any of his research. I'd had to start early with the faint memory that he'd been concerned that the deaths were more than rogue disputes.

And I hadn't tried hard enough. The guilt was eating me alive, but I tried to push it back. I couldn't focus on myself.

A man was dead.

Ryker, West, Lance, Garrett, Jake and Sarge had carried Chris' casket. It had hurt so much, seeing their pain. West was barely holding himself together.

Chris had wanted an official funeral. He'd wanted to be laid to rest instead of burned.

So we'd found a field in the woods of Nebraska near Haven, and Chris was the first headstone in Haven's cemetery.

Ariel was out of it, I could tell. She wasn't paying attention, her eyes on the ground. I'd brought the twins and Hazel, but only because the twins wanted to say goodbye, and because they needed to understand why we fought, why we tried so hard to find the safest way to end this war.

Oliver was silent, his hands folded, elbows resting on his knees. He was in a suit, staring at the casket as it was laid into the ground with a pained look on his face.

None of us liked losing one of our own.

I reached over and gently put my hand into his, interlacing our fingers. His hand tightened around mine, and he didn't let me go.

"Chris was one hell of a guy," Ryker started out, pain in his features and voice. He looked down, taking a moment before speaking again. "All he wanted was justice for his wife. For a while he didn't care if he blurred the line between justice and revenge. It was so unlike him. The line always mattered. He kept me from crossing it more times than I can remember.

"Chris was honorable. When I called him to tell him I'd found a young girl cruelly abused who had special powers from experiments, I was worried. I didn't know if I wanted to sign up for this. I didn't know if we could handle this by ourselves." Ryker chuckled bitterly. "Then Chris showed up, and from that look on his face, I knew. I knew what he had decided. He wanted the help that girl. He convinced me with just that look." Ryker looked up at Sasha, who was crying as quietly as she could. "He took in every kid that we found who was like her. He didn't care if that put himself in danger, he wanted to save them. He jeopardized his position in his pack, and eventually left it so he could help people. That's the kind of man Chris was. That's the legacy he left behind. And we will always try to live up to that legacy the best we can."

Ryker took his seat, and Sasha got up to take his place. She was crumbling, and I felt sorry for her. I felt sorry for them all.

"I-" her voice broke and she hugged herself, tears streaming down her face. I felt my heart break watching her. "I loved Chris. We all did. He was like a Father to me. To all of us." She stopped, crying harder. She shook her head, unable to continue. "Can we just bury him, please?" She asked, walking away, sitting down and leaning into Jake.

The pastor spoke a few more words that I barely listened to, and I watched as Ariel rose to her feet, holding her head high as she approached the hole in the ground, a rose in hand.

She tossed it into the ground, and I heard the faint sound of it landing on the casket.

We all got up one by one and did the same.