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Of all the people approaching that front stoop, it should not have been Derek Dobbs. It should not have been a man who was no closer to being his old self, to making peace with what had come to pass, to acceptance and the inevitable moving on with his life, than he had been the day his fiancée died.

But it was, as life had a peculiar sense of humor, and this was his last thought before his eyes fell upon her, recognizing himself far more than he had ever imagined possible in a girl like Bess Zeller.

A sense of dread tugged at him with every step. The Order of the Phoenix, though grieving the loss of two of their own, had not forgotten about the people left behind. Thus, it had been Derek who was volunteered to keep an eye on Bess. However much he felt he couldn't do this, it was imperative it be done. Though James and Frank had handled it with less finesse than the situation called for, he knew that despite his initial anger at them, their presence had been crucial in those hours of need. That immediate shift from color to grey, that realization that nothing, but nothing, would ever be the same was far more powerful than most people understood. There was no coming back from that terrible mindset, not without someone by your side.

Though there wasn't much he could do for her. There were only two options that seemed viable right now; to bring back the person lost, or to join them. Derek didn't need to ask Bess how she was doing in order to see what was running through her mind now. He could lie, to tell her that life would piece itself together and eventually there would come a day where she never thought of him at all. But it wouldn't make a difference. Life moved on, it was true. But they didn't move with it. They drowned in it.

Derek cleared his throat quietly, not wanting to startle her out of whatever reverie she'd fallen into. He didn't speak. He simply strode a little closer, looking at her with speculative, sympathetic eyes.