The funeral was two weeks after that horrible incident. It was a beautiful event, as funerals go. Many people came to pay their respects, but the atmosphere was horrible. The air was thick with grief. It almost felt like it was pressing in around you, making you slightly claustrophobic. Everyone showed up in dark mourning colors, as tradition demanded, but it seemed unnecessary. The funeral hall was bleak enough as it was, empty except for maroon velvet chairs, a podium, and pedestals for the caskets. Two large potted plants sat in the far corners of the room, as if standing guard over the deceased. I didn't even bother putting on makeup that morning, because I knew it would just get ruined with all the crying I would inevitably do. Even the weather was gloomy. The sky was gray and a light rain fell all day, like heaven was crying for these lost souls.

It was under these awful circumstances that I met Chris's parents for the first time. His mom, Mrs. Shelton (though she told me to call her Euna) was an incredibly sweet lady in her mid 50's, shorter than me with a sturdy build. Her red-brown hair was curled, and arranged modestly to frame her bereaved face. I felt for her. On the same day, she had lost both of her sons, and neither of them in ordinary ways. Her eyes were red and puffy, and there were purple shadows under them. I had a feeling she had gotten even less sleep than I had. The few hours of sleep I got each night were spent reliving that terrible night in my dreams. Only, each time I knew what was going to happen, and I couldn't stop it, couldn't even look away. Each time I looked on, knowing that Chris was going to die with his head laying on my lap, that pleading expression on his face, begging me not to cry. Each time I woke up sobbing, my face wet with tears that never seemed to stop.

His dad, Arthur, was tall and solemn, his light brown hair slicked back and parted to the side. He looked like he would be a stern man under other circumstances, but he was comforting now, like a human teddy bear. When I told them how I knew Chris, they were both extremely kind, offering hugs and caring words to help me. I only wished there was some way I could help them, something I could do for them. Hugs and kind words didn't seem like enough.

For some reason, I was surprised to see Louise at the ceremony. I really shouldn't have been. I had known how close she and Chris had been. She sat alone in a chair near the back, her face red and puffy from crying. It gave me a strange satisfaction to see her looking disheveled. As soon as this thought popped into my head, I realized I wasn't one to judge. I looked as bad as she did, if not worse. She spotted me staring at her and waved timidly. I returned the gesture. This was not the time to parade out old grudges. Plus, Chris would've liked to know that we were being civilized towards each other. It's what he'd have wanted.

I was asked to give a speech after the ceremony. It took me forever to come up with exactly the right words to say. I couldn't exactly come out and be like "Well, Chris was the greatest werewolf I've ever met." It might be a bit of a shock at his and Lucas's double funeral. Instead, I think I summed it up perfectly.

"Before I met Chris, pretty much everything was the same for me. I had a schedule, and I stuck to it no matter what. Then one night, he waltzed into the bar where I worked and completely threw me off. Ever since the day I met him, things have been different for me. Chris continually surprised me, he made me laugh, he cheered me up. He made me actually show my personality, and not just the cynical side. It was great to actually have someone to talk to, to hang out with, to be there for and in exchange have them be there for me. He was such a great guy. And I know I've hardly known him for more than a few months, but I'm not sure I've ever loved anyone as much as I loved him. And I'm sure I never will. May he rest in peace." My voice cracked, and tears slid freely down my face. I stepped down from the podium and into the open arms of Mrs. Shelton.

I couldn't listen as the rest of the people who had known and loved Chris and Lucas (though it was difficult for me to understand how anyone could love Chris's older brother, the man who murdered him) gave their own heartfelt speeches. Bitter tears spilled from everyone’s eyes. Everyone in this room had lost someone they loved. Even the sky was crying.

Eventually the speeches were over, and people were milling about, sharing stories and going to say their personal good-byes to Chris and Lucas. Lucas's casket was closed. The mortician hadn't been able to fix the giant gash in his throat, or disguise it enough that it wasn't disturbing to look at. Chris's, though, was open. I waited until it seemed everyone else had taken a turn kneeling by the gleaming mahogany caskets before walking up myself and kneeling in front of the one that belonged to Chris. I placed a bouquet of white rosebuds tied with a thin pink ribbon on his chest as I gazed at his lifeless form, dressed in his best suit. It seemed wrong. He should be in his leather jacket, his jeans, his t-shirt. Not this formal attire. I resisted the urge to ruffle his hair so at least he wouldn't be buried with it slicked back like it was. Not able to look at this unfamiliar version of Chris any longer, I cast down my eyes and tried to examine my palms.

I stared blankly at my hands, my eyes barely taking in the twinkle of diamonds in a white-gold band. I ran my finger over the ring subconsciously. Things had happened so fast these past few weeks, the final weeks I had spent with him, and now he was gone. Bending over, I kissed his stone cold lips, and glanced at the casket. It seemed so final. The flowers -- even my roses that lay gently on his chest -- made everything appear even more tragic than it was in reality. How could he be gone? It was just last month he had told me the truth, had I fallen in love with him anyways. For some reason, one thing stood out to me. 'Death'. Death was such a final word. It's like, you die and that's it, the end, nothing else. There had to be more to it than that. "It's only the beginning," I whispered to myself, turning away from his lifeless form, a tear sliding down my cheek. "Death is only the beginning."

((A/N: So...that's it. For this story at least. I am, however, in the process of outlining a sequel. So you will more than likely be seeing Fate again. Thanks for all the great reviews. I'm glad people actually read this and liked it. So, yeah. Happy writing! -Maddie.))