Call out the lies, blow the storm away...

F***, she was gonna be pissed. I promised I'd be home in time for dinner tonight but something came up at the office. "Like always," she'd chide, frustration creeping up her neck like a persistent rash. This always made me a little irritated. She knew what she was getting into, marrying an FBI agent. Long days at the office, long weekends away from home. But that never stopped her. Last time I'd broken a promise, there had been a fight. Voices raised, tempers flared, the whole nine yards. She'd threatened to take the kids and leave if I broke another promise, which was exactly what I'd thought had happened when I was greeted by silence when I walked through the front door.

"Kate?" I called out. The silence was...unnerving. Where was the chatter of the kids, the white noise of whatever was playing on the television? Her car was in the driveway, so I knew they were home. Something...wasn't right. Instinctively, my hand went to my hip, fingers brushing the cold handle of the pistol. I crept around the corner from the foyer to the living room and was instantly met with a familiar metallic scent that made my blood run cold.

Blood. So much blood. Where did it all come from? 

The room started to spin, my entire world tilted off its axis. 

Gone, gone. They were all gone.

Sirens spinning around through my eyelids. The touch of many hands, trying to pull me back down to Earth. The soft murmur of voices, some strange, some familiar. 

"It's okay," they whispered. "Everything will be okay, Patrick."

But how could it be okay? My family was dead. And they'd taken a piece of me with them.