Brompton Cemetery, London UK
The news came to him when he was still in the hospital. Agent Tava Bashar coded. Blue. His injuries from the ambush had put him in critical condition and it worsened as the days went on. Cole didn't expect to see him take a terrible turn. Tava was a fit guy, healthy, loved life, and was the poster boy for the ideal agent. Cole doesn't remember much of the news except that it hurt, and he coughed a lot, and that his lungs burned. They still did, and boy did he feel old as hell walking around with a cane.
He eyed his watch and looked out the window; the family were already congregated around the burial site, and the priest was making his way out to start the graveside service. After sitting through numerous prayers and a sea of wails and sobs at the church, it was time to start the cycle again--and bid his old friend farewell. Cole took a sip of the coffee from the cardboard cup he picked up from his center console. His left hand was functional again but not as good as his right. Thank all Gods and stars that the filing cabinet didn't smash up his writing or shooting hand or he'd have some words with Cox if he ever saw him again. He was lucky that Loretta and the others pulled him from the blast in time, or a piece of the ceiling might have fallen on it and he would have lost it, for sure.
The coffee was on the cusp of turning frigid, bitter, and certainly not the same stuff Orion had been spoiling him with at the office that was before, though. He wouldn't think to pester the kid for any now. Shitty office coffee was the least of his worries, after all, though he hadn't had much of anyone left to complain to about the shitty coffee there. Klaus was gone, Jones was backed up, Katarina was...absent and Matt...Oh, he would love to just turn back time to when problems were just that. Simple. No trouble from some wild vigilante with a witch girlfriend--a hitwoman, at that--against his team that was fragmented to shit now.
The service was somber, as any funeral would be. It was a muggy day for summer in London; overcast, grim. The clouds might clear out by lunch time but at least it was chilly enough to wear a coat to protect from any surprise storm that might roll through. Cole found it fitting for the mood and the events as of late, giving him the chance to mourn without the heat beating down at his neck. He paid his respects, set a coin and flower on the casket, gave his love and regards to the weeping Asha and Tava's children, Mika and Brycent, and faded back into the crowd.
It wouldn't be too much longer after that, the priest wrapped up the service, and one by one, the attendees started to vanish, leaving Cole alone, near the open gravesite of his friend and agent.