A/N: This does have a lesbian context to it, so if offended, stop reading now.

A/N 2: I do not own the characters or the show, so please don't sue me. There is no copyright infringement whatsoever.

A/N 3: Hope you enjoy and review is a yay yay!

EPILOGUE:

The applause sifted through the room, getting louder with each clap, stirring her from her memories. She looked around and could see that people were watching her expectantly, waiting for her to rise. She stood and felt the comforting hands of those she loved touch her own as she stepped past the numerous tables. The lights were hot against her skin, the material of her dress felt itchy, her eyes were watery from the brightness. She could hear the claps getting louder, the chairs scraping against the grounds as people stood. She let her feet touch each step lightly as she climbed to the stage, seeing the speech-maker awaiting her. She smiled a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and stood behind the podium. Her hearing had been damaged from the explosions, but she knew that their applause could be heard out-doors. It was deafening almost. She grinned inwardly at the inappropriateness of the phrase, but was thankful that she had maintained some hearing. She maintained more than that. She was lucky.

She looked behind her and let her eyes wander over the photo that had been displayed on the big screen. She smiled as she remembered the day it was taken.

The brunette's knees were pulled up to her chest, her arms crossed upon them, her chin resting against it, her eyes shining in the strong sun. Her dark eyes were watching the blonde not the camera, a light smile dancing on her lips.

The photo captured a peaceful moment in a chaotic world.

She smiled as she remembered that moment before turning back to the still standing but now quiet audience. This was the audience watching an acclaimed prize being given for a renowned article. An article that shook up the classes, woke up the people and made the tiniest of difference to pave the way for many more.

She watched the faces, recognising none. She suddenly felt nervous standing before these strangers, and instead of speaking she cleared her throat. She replaced their faces with those she could never forget when she closed her eyes. She could see the many faces that she left behind in a world that didn't seem real now. She could see the faces of giggling children playing football with a piece of rag, the faces of elderly women as they told their stories of their youth, the faces of the injured finding their feet again, the faces of aid-workers surrounding a camp-fire, the faces of friends, the faces of good friends… the face of…

"Sam," Brooke's voice was barely audible as she felt tears touch her hazel eyes. She took a deep breath, "Sam wanted more than anything, to be a prize-winning journalist… that's what she wanted before she went to Sudan… She spent all her time there, learning about what was going on, why it was going on and how a small number of people were trying to make a change. She saw goodness in the darkest of places, a light in darkness." She lifted her head towards the roof and sighed before returning her gaze to the unfamiliar faces. "There are no words for me to use. I am not the words smith… Sam was wonderful in so many ways, from when we were arguing teens to when we became lovers… She always maintained her sense of passion, in everything that she did." She looked back at the photo which she had taken and smiled. It was better to remember Sam like this then as she saw her last, lifeless amongst the rubble and surrounded by the chaos.

Brooke turned back and saw the unfamiliar faces express grief for someone that they would never know. She did know that Sam was right, she would go everywhere with her.

She swallowed hard, "In her life there, she wanted to make a difference… but it was in her death that the difference was made."