Saying Goodbye

Bridget walked through the black iron gate of the cemetery, taking careful steps in her heels through the tall grass. The breeze had picked up, and goosebumps appeared on her arms. Her strapless sundress flowed around her in the wind, her hair blowing behind her.
She might have looked as if she was going to a wedding, or church, but a Shadowhunter would have known better. Her dress, a pristine white, the traditional color of mourning, was the first sign. Dark, blood red runes laced and intertwined up her arms, in a hauntingly beautiful way.
Bridget didn't speak, hadn't spoken all morning, and merely made her way over to where she knew she was supposed to go. A small canopy was set over twenty or so chairs, only three of which were filled so far. With a sad sigh, she noticed that not a single person was sitting on the front row.
Taking her seat there, Bridget stared at the flower-covered, wide casket before her. Her parents had always said they wanted to be buried together, and that had been her one request when a Shadowhunter official called to help make the arrangements of their funeral.
Derek took the seat beside her, and dully Bridget noticed his slight unease at the lack of people here. Maybe he'd thought all of her family would show up, or at least several friends. She'd forgotten to mention that she had none. The few people in the back had turned to six, more than Bridget had thought would show up. Her parents must have had a few friends that she didn't know.
An official stood at the front, by the casket, in front of a podium. He held a program, and kept glancing at his watch, waiting for noon to start the funeral.
Tightening her arms around herself, Bridget tried to fight the chill that had set deep inside of her. Her chest hurt, and she felt like she could never quite catch her breath.

The stereo-typical, light rain trickeled down from the grey sky, as Derek followed behind Bridget. He kept his hand very close to her back, but not yet touching, waiting for the moment when she'd need the support. For the moment, she seemed composed, striking out a path past the rusty, cemetary gate, straight to the canopied plot of ground where she'd say her last good byes.
Ignoring the small, grey spots that the rain had left on his white, dress shirt, Derek ducked under the canopy, taking in the somber scene before him. Lines of white chairs took up most of the space, a good number of them empty save for a few in the back. A Shadow Hunter Official stood at the front, his gaze suggesting a complete lack of emotion. And, next to him, propped up on a small platform, sat the coffin. Glossy as a piano, Derek noted the size. Bridget hadn't told him her parents were being buried together. Together, even in death. It was a romantic picture. The flowers on top were still bright with color, contrasting sharply with the grey theme of its surroundings.
Bridget directed him to two seats right in the front. Sitting down on the cold wood, Derek was finally able to really look at her. She'd been moving so fast since he'd knocked on her door that morning, never saying a word, that he hadn't been able to fully see her. The blood red Mourning Runes stood out drastically against the whiteness of her sundress. Her pace had been confident coming up to the burial site, but, now examining her face, Derek saw the tired sorrow lurking behind the soft features. Like a sad angel, forever weeping on the inside. It made his heart hurt. A sudden chill seemed to ripple through her, causing her to tremble just slightly. Putting his arm around her, he willed his warmth to her, anything to make her seem alive again.
"You can do this. I'm right here." He knew it was a useless thing to say, but the need to say something, anything at all, was too great.

Bridget curled into Derek's side unknowingly, her body craving the warmth that her mind hadn't recognized that she needed yet. Her bare arms and shoulders were covered in goosebumps, but that was the least of her worries. She didn't care if she froze out here, never to move again. Bitter cold was better than the sorrow sure to come.
The rain fell softly on the tent, the noise almost soothing, but not quite. If she listened closely, Bridget could hear the unrest that was behind the rain, the gathering afternoon storm, and it left her unsettled. The dark grey clouds blew across the sky, the wind faintly howled in the distance. It was fitting that the day of her parent's funeral was a cloudy, stormy one. The weather reflected her emotions almost perfectly, although maybe not to the fullest extent.
Far off on another street, church bells were ringing. Twelve deep, beak tones sounded, marking the time. Part of her wanted to turn and search for the area, stop the time, save herself from what was coming. Instead her eyes were drawn to the official at his podium, as he checked his watch for a final time, cleared his throat and began.
"We are gathered here today to acknowlege the lives of two brave Shadowhunters..." As the common words left his lips, Bridget's attention was drawn elsewhere. Try as she might to listen to this man's summary of her parent's lives, it would never live up to what she remembered.
This official could not talk about when Bridget was small and training, and how she'd fallen once and fractured her wrist. Her dad had scooped her up and hugged her close while her mother drew a healing rune, and between the two of them her tears were dried within minutes, laughter replacing them.
He also didn't know about when Bridget had turned 12, and her parents had gotten her the best present ever. They'd simply watched her play with her new kitten for hours, content to see their daughter so delighted.
The official's words would never, not in a thousand years, be able to convey everything her parents were. They were strong, and capable, lovely, filled with laughter, protective, and above all else, hers. Her family, the people that raised her, the ones she came crying to when she was sad and laughed with when she was happy. This man before her just couldn't know.
So really, Bridget didn't find it all that disrespectful when she chose not listen to what he was saying, and instead stared off into the distance, remembering her dear mother and father how she wanted to, not as he said she should.
Ever so faintly, Bridget heard a bird chirping. Searching for this joyful, out-of-place noise, her eyes finally trained on a small sparrow perched on a nest, feeding it's crying babies. Don't you know it's the wrong time of year, she thought, wistfully wishing that these birds would make it through the chill that had set it. It was far too late in the year to be raising young. With an even heavier heart, despite the silliness of her recent discovery, she forced her attention back to the man, startled to find tears slowly falling into her lap.
And then the words were gone. Everyone's chairs were scraping as they stood up. Bridget dumbly looked around, until she realized that the few people that had come were tossing dirt into the hole the casket would be buried in, as seen in some graveside services. Taking her place as the last one, other people watched as she brushed her fingers along the closed casket.
"Goodbye," Bridget whispered, finding that no other words could come. Nothing else was really needed to be said anyway. Anything else, any other anger or betrayal or missing could be said at anytime, whether at the grave or laying awake at night in her bed, moonlight streaming through the window.
Returning to her seat, Bridget endured the remaining few minutes of speaking, and then everyone stood again. Unaware of what had been planned, she stood as well and listened to the sad, soft hymn being sung by the few here. Their voices were beautiful. Only at the last refrain did Bridget join them, her voice cracked and low.
Piercing silence followed. No mumblings, no whispers, people just left without a word. The official did too. Bridget fell back into the chair, certain that she couldn't leave yet. In fact, she would never ever really leave this spot. Some part, the broken part of her heart that would never fully heal, would always stay suspended in this moment, the grief of saying goodbye.
Something inside of her snapped, as the weight of what had just happened crashed around her. Her parents were dead. No longer with her, never to be seen again. Bridget could feel the hysteria rising in her chest, building up and threatening to drown her. She wanted to curl up in her parent's arms and cry for hours, but that would never be an option again.
Only then did she realize that she wasn't as alone as she felt. Derek was sitting beside her still, watching her with careful eyes. Scrutinizing her. Bridget didn't want him to see her like this, on the edge of insanity.
"Derek?" Her voice was hoarse, unsure. "Um... Why don't you go get the car," She swallowed back more tears. "I just... I need a few minutes, please."

Derek smiled a little as Bridget automatically curled into his side, accepting his offering of comfort. The girl was going through so much, it was the least he could do. He wished he could take her away from it all, make it so that she didn't have to see all this. The official starting the service with words everyone knew, the crowd of people pretending to care, filling a moral obligation, a check in a box. But she needed to see this. It burned and stung like a salt poured over an open wound, but she'd never be able to let them go without it all. All he could do for Bridget was to hold her close, and be the friend he'd told her he was more than willing to be.
The lulling words of the official, speaking of the human race as a whole and our struggle to figure out where we'll end up after we die, brought back all the memories of the time when he'd been told about his mother's death. Sure, his father was gone, but Derek could still hope that he was alive out there....somewhere. His mother was dead. No hope in that. He remembered the constant battles he'd had with Dorian, begging him to find their mother's grave. But, ever the selfish prick, his twin had refused, saying the Seelie Court would see the search for a dead parent by one of their knights a weakness, possibly resulting in a demotion. So, Derek was left to his thoughts, suffering in silence, nothing left to grieve over.
Suddenly noticing the lack of any noise around him, Derek shook himself out of his inner thoughts, realizing that the funeral had ended. Focusing back on Bridget, he saw that the tears had finally come, creating small, dark tracks down her smooth skin. He was just about to reach a hand up to wipe them away, when she suddenly turned towards him.
"Derek?," Bridget said, her voice scratchy from the tears. "Um... Why don't you go get the car. I just... I need a few minutes, please."
Derek nodded, knowing that she would need the alone time to really come to terms with the loss. The moment was crucial in the healing period.
"Of course," he said, understanding flowering his tone. "Take your time; I'll be just outside the gate with the car."
Giving her arm one last reassuring squeeze, Derek got up, and, before he could forget, went over to the grave side. The dirt was right there next to his feet. Picking up a handful, he let the soil slowly trickle out of his hand. He'd never met Bridget's parents, but that didn't mean he didn't know them. They'd raised Bridget, infusing all they knew into her, making her the girl that he'd so quickly come to care for. And for that he was grateful. Turning to make his way across the still damp ground, Derek sent up a silent prayer, hoping that her parents had found peace wherever they were.

Through the mist and the rain, a sleek, black town car could be seen, pulling up next to the cemetery’s entrance. The door opened, allowing a large umbrella to pop up, sheltering an obviously wealthy man from the chill sting of the water. But, he wasn't alone. With a face lit by eager expectation, the man helped a young woman out from the dark confines of the car, handling her as if she were a precious jewel. And, who could blame him? With legs as long and luscious as any supermodel's, curves that would make any man drool, and a face God surely cried with joy over, the girl appeared to be a living goddess. Leaning in for a farewell kiss, the man was crudely rejected with a shove that sent him back into the car, the door closing, and the umbrella now in the girl's hand. Looks like Aphrodite and a cruelty as harsh as Satan himself. That was Alexia Ravenscar.
Feeling the wind swirling her white, chiffon dress around her legs, Lexi had a cliche vision of herself pulling a Marilyn-Monroe-esque scene. Unfortunately, there were no man holes this far out of the city. Plus, she was at a funeral, and such behavior was not respectful. Too bad.
Looking out at the dreary scene of the canopied service, mourners sulking around, she felt an extreme longing for the adventures of the night before. Slade had sent Alexia and her brother, Kaleb, out on a mission of termination. Not that it was anything special; most of their missions were of the terminating kind. A newbie to the cult that was Slade Blackwell had messed up one too many times. The boy, unusually young to have already sworn allegiance to Slade, had failed to retrieve any information that his master had asked him to get from inside the Clave. That was when Lexi and Kaleb had been called in. Kaleb took out the body guards the kid had stationed outside his hotel with little difficulty. The actual kill was left to his sister. The boy had walked into his room, oblivious to the 20 dead men piled up in an alley somewhere, and was immediately greeted with a sight most men would gladly have died to have. Clothed in the smallest, softest wisp of lingerie, Alexia laid spread across the bed, a seductive smile beckoning him to her.
After the job had been completed, she cleaned the small dagger she'd had concealed under a pillow clear of the man's blood, rolled the body up in the already blood soaked sheets, and walked into the bathroom. The blood was her least favorite part, spurting everywhere and making a genuine mess of things. But, as she cleaned her bare skin of any red and grabbed a soft, white robe, Lexi found her mood couldn't be dampened. Every kill left her like this; exhilarated with the life blood she'd taken. A killer in love with the kill. It was what she was trained to be.
Sighing from the memories, Alexia looked back to the barley occupied parking lot. Her brother had not yet arrived. It wasn't like him to be late for a mission. And this wasn't any ordinary mission. Everything depended on this day.

The wind shook the leaves above Kaleb Ravenscars head, sending an array of water droplets tumbling down onto his unshielded head. His dark hair was already damp from the rain that had been sprinkling down over the cemetery for the past half hour. He sat perched in one of the tall oak trees that lined the grave plots just beside the parking lot. He had been watching the mourners come and go, taking a sweet pleasure in their tears. Something about the sight of others crying make his skin crawl with pleasure. Such weakness, just waiting to be taken advantage of and he, just the one to do it. His lips curled into a dark smile as he watched his target approach the casket that had yet to be lowered into the ground. He watched her as a hawk watches it’s pray as it circles above it’s head, waiting for the right time to strike.

When a black town car dropped off a slender figure, he rolled his eyes at his sister. The girl couldn’t even climb out of a car without turning heads. Not exactly what you call low-key though he wouldn’t work without her. Jumping down from his branch gracefully, he popped up the collar of his leather jacket. He was dressed in all black like always, not willing to abandon his color even to blend in at a funeral. His tight cloths hugged his muscular form as he sauntered toward his sister with the appearance more like a deadly black panther then a man.

As he approached his sister, he let out a long low whistle, no more than a soft bird call to an unsuspecting listener but to his sister, the sound they used to signal each other.
“It’s about time you decided to grace us with your presence. I was about to slit someones throat just out of boredom.” He flashed his sister a humorless smile that never reached his deadly eyes.

Alexia whipped her glossy locks around, hearing the soft, bird call that she and her brother had invented as children to signal each other. She should have known that Kaleb was just off somewhere, enjoying the pain that cemetery’s wrought. He would never have shirked a direct order from Slade, especially when both siblings had been enlightened with all that was riding on the day's outcome. Slade's temper could be quite vicious.
"We'll be having none of that today, sadly. But, if we play our parts right, you can slit throats to your heart's content, brother," Lexi purred, returning her sibling's hollow smile with a dangerously beautiful one of her own. "Now, let's go mourn our dear, old friends, the White's."
Taking the lead in the direction of the service and their oblivious target, Lexi made the quick change from lethal, sex kitten to the vulnerable and broken family friend of the Whites. The tears came on command, sliding down her flawless cheeks and falling to the muddy ground. Wringing her hands in an excellent show of inner turmoil, she slowed her purposeful stride to a slow pace, suggesting that each step was an obstacle to achieve in her make believe, sorrow filled, life. Her head was kept slightly down, giving her an even more broken kind of look. But, that didn't mean that she wasn't still aware of everything going on around her. She registered the blond, shadowhunter, on his way back to the parking lot, the second he walked into her peripheral vision. She'd glimpsed him earlier, consoling the White girl. Oh, she was going to have fun with that one.
Saving the decision of how exactly Prince Charming was to die for a later date, Lexi turned back to her quarry, still frozen next to her parent's coffin. She was so purely beautiful. It was a shame she had to die. Eventually.
"Oh my God, Bridget? Is that you? Oh, of course it's you. You look just like your mother," Alexia fluttered in, attacking the girl with a quick hug, then drawing back to dab hopelessly at the steady stream of tears. "You probably don't remember, it was ages ago. I'm Nina Markfeather. My brother here and I played at your house practically every day. I'm told we were inseparable."
(Thought they should have made up names)

Kaleb followed his sister silently, his usual emotionless features taking on the same sad mask as Alexia. Sadness wasn’t a feeling either of them felt, to be sad was for the weak and they had no room for weakness but they were both exceptional actors and could portray themselves to be anyway they wished at a moments notice, believable even to the keenest of eyes.
As they neared their mark, he slung a comforting arm over his weeping sisters shoulder, his gaze falling on the mourning girl in front of them. This was going to be too easy, he thought as he fought the cruel smile that wanted to dance across his lips.
He remained silent as his sister introduced herself, her lying flawless as always; it was only when the other girl turned to look at them did he let a sad smile cross his features.
“Oh Brifget… I can’t believe it’s actually you… I was told we were quite… fond of each other when we were little…” He willed a blush to creep across his ivory cheeks, the pink hue standing out in the grey lighting as he flashed her a charming smile that had melted the hearts of many females.
“I can’t express how sorry I am for your loss…” He said, letting go of his sister to lay a gentle hand on Bridgets shoulder for a quick moment.

Bridget was swallowed in a hug from this new girl, tears flowing freely from her cheeks. The name she was given did stir a distant memory in Bridget's mind, of childhood friends that had moved away before the preteen years. Surprisingly, she did remember, very clearly. These two were her best friends during the toddler and early elementary age. She'd all but forgotten about them until now, years distancing the friends until they were no more involved than an odd though every now and then.
Nina and Nathan and Bridget. Forever together when they were little, torn apart when the siblings had been relocated to a new city with their parents. Bridget found it very hard to believe that they were here now, brought back by the tragedy she was experiencing.
Nathan's blush was echoed in Bridget's face, as she recalled their childhood romance of sorts, the innocent hand holding and kisses on the cheeks. She remembered swearing that if she would ever marry a boy, it would be him to her parents, and their laughter at the thought.
The two siblings were looking at her with such a sorrowful expression, deep sympathy reflecting in their eyes. All of a sudden, the tears were bubbling out again. A sob broke through her throat, and Bridget's shoulders shook. Her old friends brought out the emotion buried deep with the past.
"It means so much to me that you guys came. Really," Bridget swallowed, wiping at her tears. "It's nice to have someone who knows me here. I mean, the people at the Institute just met me. They're nice... but they don't know me like you two do. And they most definitely didn't know my parents." With her small speech, one that Bridget felt didn't quite explain how she was feeling, Bridget was crying again, hopelessly miserable.

Alexia felt a small flicker of pride for her brother, briefly lighting up her still tear-dampened eyes. The word pride was used loosely, a purely mundie term, used to praise their weakling children for things like breathing or walking in a straight line. People of her caliber felt appreciation. One of the rare, positive feelings they were allowed to indulge in. You send your partner out to take care of a troubling target you've both been tailing, and he comes back succesful? You appreciate the fact that you no longer have to worry about the sorry son of a bitch. Your partner did his job. No simpering speeches or high fives neeeded.
At present, Lexi was appreciating her brother's natural charm at it's best. He'd unleashed it so fast, the poor girl hadn't known what hit her. One well delivered blush paired with his infamous smile and she was gone. To Bridget's credit, Kaleb's smile had dehorsed more woman than even he cared to remember. To say he was a professional at breaking the will of the opposite sex would be a gross understatement. She ate it all up, along with the information they fed her, latching on to it like a child to a familiar bear. All the names, the childhood sweetheart shit, all true.
Long before they'd even known the true extent of the mission, the siblings had been sent on an question, retain, and kill operation. The family was an old Shadowhunter one, dwindling to it's last four living members. Lexi and Kaleb had gone in at the darkest time of night, practically dripping black themselves. A careful observation of the mansion during the day had given them all the information they needed to infiltrate, all the weak points in the security set to memory. The parents weren't home, but that didn't matter. Slade's needs only concerned the daughter and son. Splitting up once they'd effortlessly dispatched the Shadowhunter guards, Lexi threw one last glance behind at her brother's disappearing back, before turning to enter the teenage daughter's room like the snake she'd been trained to be.
The next few hours became a cacophony of screaming and pathetic pleading. The daughter, Nina Starkweather, was a stranger to the clean pain that grew and grew from the cut of a cursed blade. Her tears fell freely with each stab Lexi delivered to the girl's legs, her wrists pitifully trying to free themselves from their tight bindings. Not one expression passed Lexi's face as she methodically sliced upon the places she knew would hurt the most, asking the questions she'd memorized the moment Slade had given them to her. The girl was weak. She gave answers so quickly that Lexi was barely having any fun with the torture. She liked it when they tried to fight her. Made breaking them all the more satisfactory. Once all her questions were answered, the girl blubbering was silenced by a slice to the throat. Knocking the chair over, the body still tied to it, Lexi drew out a small bottle of lighter fluid, layered the room in a quick coat, flicked open her lighter and carelessly dropped it. She'd met her brother on the front lawn five minutes later, dawn barely creeping over the horizon. As both siblings made their way to a black car waiting for them, Lexi noted the strange parallelism of the sky, turned a fiery red by the rising sun, and the mansion, slowly being swallowed by a massive blaze.
Laughing inwardly at the poetic irony of it all, Alexia drew herself back to the present. The girl was there's, now to initiate Step 2: Getting into the Institute. Putting on her best simper, she once again latched onto the girl's arm.
"That's why we're here, darling. We both knew you'd need a shoulder to cry on. No one should be expected to pull through by themselves in your condition. How about we go back to the Institute, get you into bed, with a nice cup of hot tea. Nathan and I aren't leaving you, not in this state. Plus, I'm sure the Institute could use two more Shadowhunters to join its ranks," Lexi finished off her speech with a sickly sweet smile. It was all so easy. The girl would happily agree to take them back, the siblings would be accepted into the inner circle, all the time acting like one of them. But, once the call came, the blood would flow just as easily as the lies had. They'd never see it coming.

Kaleb had to fight to keep the wicked smile from curling up at the corners of his lips It was too easy, almost boring. He hopped there would be more worthy opponents awaiting them at the Institute, he hated when his prey didn’t put up a fight. Though he supposed in this case it was best, they needed her to get in with a solid alibi, this was not the time to appear as the two mysterious strangers that they were. Shrugging off his jacket, he pulled it over her bare shoulders.
“Let’s get you out of this rain love, before you come down with a cold.” He placed a gentle hand on Bridgets back, steering the girls towards the black town car that brought his siter.
“Who did you come with? Do you need a ride?” He asked her, pretending to be oblivious to the blonde shadowhunter waiting for her in the parking lot.