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Borr and Darlene's home was a single out of the city's center. It was hardly the country but there were enough trees on either side to separate them from the neighbors and there was a nice sized yard, front and back, for the dogs. It was a bit much for him to take care of alone, a little too much space, but it had been their space so he kept it. Darlene had been born and raised here in Ashdown, a paragon of the community really, and he wasn't going to leave that behind him.

The flower beds had suffered since his wife's death and the large man spent the mornings of his free days on his knees in the beds (now that it was spring or something like it) doing his best with bulbs he knew nothing about and pulling out weeds (that he also knew nothing about). The current project was ivy that was taking over on the side of the house, and while it was annoying, there was some joy in being to tirelessly rip the stuff down and bag it up. It was the sort of task that required no finesse.

The dogs laid on the lawn, Dummy snoozing on his side, and Knucklehead snuffling at any little thing that caught her interest until she wandered too far away and a sharp whistle from Borr brought her back around.

Borr put hand over his eyes against the white grey glare of the overcast sky. The dogs didn't even twitch to the young woman's approach, but once the old man saw her he knew why.

Sunny was as much Ashdown as any of the residents, so Darlene had always said to him. His wife was born and bred here, himself only passing through when he'd met her and stayed. She'd told him all about a pack of smokes and a favor, or taking a glimpse into another place. Once he'd asked her if she'd ever done it, taken the deal, but Darlene said she'd never felt the need. Still- Sunny was treated by Darlene like anyone she knew. A conversation, an inquiry to their health, and a regular check in to make sure everything was fine.. even when that meant she didn't find her.

Borr viewed Sunny as he'd been taught to, just one of this place's quirks. He also hadn't seen her in quite a while. The question wasn't a difficult one, not after the thousands of questions that always followed someone's death and persisted for years following.

"Darlene passed a couple years back," He didn't need to mince the truth, though there was genuine sadness to him, "Cancer."

"Passed away."

Borr's thick brows knit and he took a step forward, not one to let someone else try to be king of his castle, not when he was in the right - in the know - and she was simply upset. He looked down at her there in front of him, reaching out to settle a heavy, grounding palm on her shoulder.

"Dead, girl. She's dead." His voice was earnest. "In the ground at the cemetery next to her mom and pa." And with a spot waiting for him when the time came.

Borr pulled his hand back just to rub it over his face a moment. It was hard to be upset when the point wasn't being grasped.

"Dead means dead. Permanent. She's not coming back." Borr was really trying to get this through, "She got too sick. Her body was done. She wasn't exactly a spring chicken anyway."

He leaned towards her emphatically, "It's been years."

"Jesus! No!" Borr was rushing to her again, the dogs rising in response to the smell of blood as well as their owner's sudden frantic lunge. Whatever she was it didn't stop his instinct to want to help, nor the natural human reaction to take care and explain.

Besides it being brutal as hell to slit your wrists with your own nails..

He had a bandana from his back pocket, ready for her wrists, though it didn't seem necessary when the initial gush of blood slowed almost immediately.

"This is all we are.." Borr's hand rested on his own chest a moment, "Flesh and blood and all the things that make our bodies work. Once that fails, there's nothing else." She was so not human and his wife had been a saint it seemed for befriending her, "Humans are really just a sum of their parts. Unless you're gonna tell me god and heaven are real, I know exactly where Darlene is. At the cemetary."

Borr sagged then and sighed, "Even goodbyes aren't good enough sometimes."

The dogs sniffed around the ground around Sunny but didn't in any way acknowledge her. "She left me too. But it wasn't her fault. I'm sure she'd have come to say goodbye if she knew she was going to die that quick."

He could tell her all about it, if she cared to hear, "You like to have a cup of tea with me instead? Or coffee or a soda.. whatever."

It was the least he could do, weird or not, for Darlene.

Borr grinned a wide reassuring smile under his beard, and gave her a wave to follow. The dogs seemed well trained, tearing themselves away from the spot Sunny stood to follow their master.

"I know you two used to have a bit of lunch.." Borr walked up some side stairs where there was a raised deck in the back of the house, as it was on a bit of a slope. There was a patio set and it led into their kitchen. "Though it's been raining on and off so we should go inside."

The kitchen screamed Darlene with the amount of knickknacks and level of kitsch in the decor. Borr hadn't bother to change things, and while some made him ache to think of her, on the whole he felt like she was with him here if things were they way they always had been, down to the coats on the hooks and her enormous purse that always had too much in it (always a pack of smokes for Sunny - usually handed over with a joking reminder that those things would kill her).

Some would say he simply couldn't let her go.

Borr took off his work gloves and tossed them to a chair, leaving Sunny free reign to wander their home should she so want. Pictures of the married couple and the dogs were everywhere some with them younger (bigger, darker hair on both of them) and one or two at the end of her days while she was in the hospital.

"What can I get ya? Tea, coffee, ummm soda, beer.. I've got some leftover food from my bar. It's called Darlene's now." He was really trying to be as hospitable as possible. "It's pretty good."

Borr grabbed a bottle of coke and handed it over, getting a bottle of beer for himself, "Gone forever. Except in our memories, even if it sounds like a Hallmark card'r something." His bushy brows rose as he popped the cap on his bottle, "Unless you're gonna tell me ghosts are real.."

He gave her a look, waiting for it, before just laughing.