A ring and a torn up piece of T-shirt. That was all she had left of him... As Rose wandered through the warehouse, she readjusted her grip on the rifle she held tightly in her palms. 'The Black Widow', the man had called it. Right before someone put a bullet through his head, and she pried it from his clammy hands and bolted out the door. The past few days had been hell; this war, pointless, and she had already begun to block the memories from her thoughts. Too much was lost. if she kept thinking, she'd go insane. Rose shook her head, clearing the painful memories from her head, before they materialized and came welling out of her eyes and dripping down her face. No crying now, she had to concentrate, concentrate on his face... Concentrate, and remember the man who killed Engel. Remember every freckle, every scar... Remember his face, because would remember hers. It would be the last thing he ever saw.

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