On Her Shoulders (Frankie & Boyd)

Mel was gone. That was something they all just had to come to terms with. They all had their own way. Some were open about their grief. Some grew quiet and withdrawn. He himself just got angry, dangerously angry. And she threw herself into her work, harder than she ever had before. However they dealt with it, though, they needed each other more than ever now. She needed him. He needed her.
His arms round her when everyone else had gone home while she cried, were all that kept her standing. When her knees fell out from beneath her, he was her rock, but the situation was entirely mutual. The only way he could stay strong, keep going every day, was by knowing he was keeping her going.
The funeral was the hardest day of their lives. Mel’s family were so devastated to have lost such a loving daughter, sister, friend, even though she had been an adopted, it didn’t make the feelings any less real or intense. A lot of people said nice things about the recently deceased young woman, many of them barely able to speak through their tears.
The cold case squad sat together in a pew in the middle of the church, the women clutched at tissues, while the men stared resolutely ahead, pledging to never let this happen again. They remembered all the times they had come so close to losing one of their members, a serial killer here, psychopath there, but they had never imagined it would feel like this.
Boyd reached out and took Frankie’s hand as she sat next to him. She looked up at him, red eyed, and smiled weakly. He knew he’d be letting her cry on his shoulder again that night, just as he’d be crying on hers.