"ice has covered up my parents eyes, don't know how to see, don't know how to cry.
growin' up in some strange storm, nobody's cold, nobody's warm."

-The Arcade Fire, Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)

Kim heard two things as she walked into the living room: Angela and a knock at the door.

Prioritizing, she went to check on Angela before worrying about possible company. At almost two years old, Angela still liked being carried around. Now, she was ready for breakfast and she put up her arms. She looked up with still wide and innocent blue eyes.

Kim laughed and picked her up, feeling her familiar weight. "So, what do you want for breakfast, Angie?" She asked as she walked out of the room.

Angela said a word Kim didn't quite understand. But she'd been up most of the night watching the news, so her brain was a little fuzzy this morning.

Another knock on the door and she stopped walking towards the kitchen and turned around to see who was bothering her this early.

She looked through the peephole, blinked and looked back.

"Tony?"

"Hi Kim,"

Something in his tone was setting off alarms, but they were distant.

"Do you want to come in?" She felt herself shifting into a 'polite mode', trying to avoid thinking about why he was here and why he looked like he'd been through hell.

"Yeah," he sighed.

She nodded and walked into the living room. Breakfast would have to wait for a few moments. Without realizing it, she was preparing herself for some kind of news. There was no other way to explain why she put Angela in her playpen instead of sitting with her on the couch.

Kim turned to look at Tony, "Do you want something to drink?"

He shook his head and glanced away for a moment.

She sat, not sure if she would be able to stand the silence any longer. "Did you get into a fight?" She tried, figuring that maybe he needed help. But it looked like he'd already been patched up, at least a little.

"No," he rubbed his eyes and took a breath. "Kim, I don't know any easy way to say this..."

A phone rang and Kim reached for it, hearing her friend's voice. "Debbie, I need to call you back," she hung up without waiting for an answer. When she tried to put the phone back on the charger it slipped and it took her a few times before she was able to hear the click and beep that meant she was successful.

Finally, she was able to look at him. "Tony?"

He walked over and sat next to her on the couch, "Your dad, he..."

When she saw her dad a few days ago, he told her that he hadn't talked to Tony in a few months. He was concerned about him too, a little worried he'd never get his life back on track.

"What about my dad?" But she glanced at Tony's shirt, seeing the familiar insignia and felt her stomach tighten. She remembered seeing Heller's abduction on the news and worrying that her dad was there or hurt, but Chase told her everything was fine, he was just busy, would call her after the crisis. Part of her had been waiting for him to call her all night. "He was involved in what happened yesterday?" she guessed, hoping that Tony would tell her she was wrong, push aside her fears, reassure her...but the look in his eyes and the expression on his face did not mean good news.

"Yeah. We both were...I'm sorry, Kim. He's...gone."

She didn't realize she was upset until she saw Angela blur and double in front of her. She blinked, trying to clear her vision but her chest hurt and it was hard to swallow. She closed her eyes.

Tony placed his hand on her back.

"He told me he was finished with field work," she whispered roughly.

"I know. He thought he was, but events conspired against him."

Was. Past tense. Kim covered her face with her hands. "How did it happen?"

"I can't tell you,"

"Tell me something," she almost pleaded.

"He was shot. It was quick."

She gasped and stood, trying to wipe away her tears, Angela would be upset if she saw her mom crying. Kim needed to get out of the room.

"I...I have to call...can you watch...," A bad excuse and reason, but she had no choice, if she didn't leave she would collapse.

She walked to the bedroom, closed the door and lay on her side on the bed. She knew she had to make a phone call, but could not push herself to pick up the phone. She always thought when this really happened she would be too numb to cry. And she's not sobbing but tears are falling and she can't stop them.

Two nights ago, that seemed impossible, but it was only two nights ago, her dad had come over for dinner and he'd seemed so happy. For the first time in a while she looked at him and thought that he might have found some kind of peace.

But, in her life, happiness never lasts. She should have felt the impending doom, but instead she was content. She hoped he didn't die alone, that someone was with him in the end, because if she'd known, she would have been there. Irrationally, she was angry with herself for the weakness. She should have been prepared, should accept, should have been able to understand and react with quiet dignity. Instead, she was frozen, mind caught somewhere between denial and mourning.

She was proud of herself for not breaking down in front of Tony. But telling herself she had to be strong did not help the tightness in her chest.

She wanted to reach for the picture on her nightstand, but her hands felt too heavy to move, so she just looked at it instead, seeing with blurry eyes a family that was forever lost.

End

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