Disclaimer: See last story for disclaimers. This story is the third of three, following 'Life Goes On', and 'Such Is Life'.

Pete shivered. It was a cold, windy, blustery day, with grey skies and occasional splatters of rain. Appropriate.

This was a funeral, after all.

Rahne snuggled against his side, and he hugged her gently. They'd gotten close, these last few months, what with looking after Moira and all. For some reason, she seemed to think he was a wise, kind, good-hearted guy hiding behind a veneer of crustiness. He hadn't had the heart to tell her he was nothing but crust, all the way to the middle, and anyway, it was important for her to have someone around right now. Besides, it was nice to have a bit of unconditional affection for a change.

She sniffled. "I¡¦it's not fair. It just isnae fair!"

"I know, luv." His own voice was choked. "It's never fair."

Meggan appeared briefly to hug them both, before going to drip on Brian some more. Sam Guthrie had hugged Rahne tightly, and offered Pete a firm, commiserating handshake. Kurt too had hugged Rahne close, and, rather surprisingly, had given Pete a brief, awkward hug as well.

There were so many people here. She'd have liked that. Not that she'd ever have *said* 'I want a big crowd at the funeral', but he knew she'd be pleased that so many people cared. She'd always doubted that, deep down. Even *he* hadn't liked her at first, which wasn't anything new, since he didn't like *anyone* at first, but she'd been a bit more annoying than most.

"I miss her already." Rahne said quietly, her lip still quivering with repressed sobs. Then she looked up at him, and dabbed his damp cheek gently with her crumpled hanky. "You do too, don't ye?"

"Who'd have thought?" He said in a soft, bitter voice. "Listen¡¦you go'n give Meggan a bit of a hug for a minute. I just¡¦need a minute for a quiet word."

She nodded, and slipped away. Pete stared at the ground for a minute, and then he walked over to her. "'lo, Pryde."

There was a bitter, fretful breeze blowing. It seemed to say everything there was left between them.

"Look¡¦I know it finished up nasty between us. I'm sorry about that. Sorry about lot of things." He sighed. "Bloody awful time to bring it up, I know, but you know me. Always at the worst times. Remember Black Air? Of all the bloody times to fall for yer¡¦

A long moment of silence.

He sighed, looking down at the grass. "Christ, you couldn't make this bloody easy, could you? Look, I'm sorry, all right? I never wanted t' hurt you. I've never loved anyone like that before, and I didn't know how to handle it." He bit his lip. "Kit¡¦ I'm sorry¡¦ A gentle hand rested on his shoulder, and he looked around.

"Are ye all right?" Moira was still a bit wobbly on her feet, but getting better every day, thanks to Hank's cure, Rahne's devoted nursing, and Pete's fond bullying in the areas of food, exercise, and staying away from the nasty fresh air.

"Not really," Pete swallowed hard. "But at least I'm alive, right?" He closed his eyes for a long moment, and then he laid a delicate yellow rose on the polished top of Katherine Pryde's wooden coffin. "Goodbye, love."

End

(Really. That's the end. No more of these after this. And it doesn't matter how she died, the point is she's dead.)