Everyone dies. No one lives forever.
Blondie and Mickey both know this.
That doesn't make it any easier though.
It’s raining the day they bury Johnny.
It had been raining the day they had buried Aisha too, all those years ago.
The fact that Gat’s funeral is also closed casket like Aisha’s had been isn’t lost on Blondie.
(Carlos’ had been closed casket too, but the sun had been out. She likes to think it was the universe’s way of apologizing for his death because he didn’t deserve to go out the way he had.)
(Even after all these years she’s still bearing the weight of that guilt; for not answering her phone when Mickey had called that night. She thought he was just calling to see if she wanted to go to Freckle Bitch’s or something. Not calling because Carlos was bleeding out and no one else was picking up their damn phones and--)
Blondie thinks she’s been to too many closed casket funerals in her life.
The procession is silent, save for the rain and Shaundi trying to keep from openly sobbing and the flash and shutter of cameras in the distance.
Blondie places a hand over Shaundi’s where her girlfriend’s is clinging onto her arm. She thinks she might be the only one other than Pierce who has worked through their grief (the loss still rests sharply behind her ribs, but it’s manageable); Mickey looks calm and serious.
It’s how he looks when he’s one step away from spiraling due to grief.
(He looked the same way when Aisha and Carlos and Lin died.)
(When Monica passed away.)
Blondie keeps an eye on him throughout the ceremony, but he does nothing save standing at her side and watches as Johnny’s empty casket is lowered into the waiting grave next to Aisha’s.
It isn’t long after the grave has been filled back in that the fans and reporters and most of the Saints leave until it’s just the four of them standing there in the rain.
She walks Shaundi and Pierce back to the parking lot.
“Is he gonna be alright?” Pierce asks her, nodding towards where Mickey is still standing.
“He will be,” she answers and waves as they drive off back to Purgatory.
As Blondie walks among the gravestones back to Mickey, she wonders how many times she’ll be back in this cemetery to bury friends.
When she finally reaches him she slips his hand into hers and lets him interlace their fingers. They hold each other’s hands so tightly she knows their knuckles are white, nails digging into flesh but not drawing blood. It stings but it’s reassuring, knowing that despite everyone and everything they’ve lost over the years they at least still have each other.
After a time of standing at Johnny’s and Aisha’s graves, Blondie tugs at Mickey and he follows her lead through the graves, through the ghosts of friends and strangers.