|Faces of Time
Author: Icea PM
A cop at the Pacific Blue thinks about her long dead best friend and partner. One-shot.Rated: Fiction K - English - Angst - Words: 855 - Reviews: 4 - Published: 01-03-05 - Status: Complete - id: 2203614
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: The characters of Pacific Blue belongs to Bill Nuss and North Hall Productions, I only wrote this story.
Author's Note: This wasn't intended as a PB-fic, but I thought I might as well post it for everyone to read.
Auhtor's Note 2: And I know I haven't updated my stories, and I'm really sorry. Someone should just beat me over the head with a giant turkey. Or give me ideas to what will happen next in the other stories.
"Faces of Time"
It's been 10 years today. 3652 days since he died. And yet, although it has been such a long time and I've done so much in between, I still remember it like it happened just yesterday. I still feel that moment of shock, those minutes of complete terror and those hours after when I still couldn't believe it. In a way I still can't. He's gone, I won't see him again. Every day for the past ten years I've been waiting for him to knock on my door, to call me and joke with me for being late to work, to stop and wonder how I'm feeling when I'm sick. But he never comes, and it's never him on the phone when I pick it up. It's like he left a mark on everything when he left. I connect certain songs with him, certain streets and even certain food with him. Some days I can completely forget that he ever existed, and some days I can't stop thinking about how he'd look like today.
We were partners together at the SMPD police department. We rode together for 5 years, and during that time we formed a strong bond. Not love, but we became as close as friends can be. He covered my back multiple times and yet I couldn't cover his when he needed it the most. I let him down, and although I couldn't have done anything differently, I still feel ashamed for not being able to save him. That's why I resigned and became a computer-saleswoman. I never thought I'd be a saleswoman, especially not one at computers. I'd always wanted to be a cop, to clean the streets from scum that shouldn't be there. It was my dream as a kid to handcuff gangsters and put them in jail. That dream died with him.
That day when it happened was just like any other day. Fairly good weather, lots of people on the streets. We got a call about a gang fight and we responded to it. When we got there it was all empty. No sounds, no people. I wanted to call it off, but he wanted to investigate it further. After walking around there searching for gang members he decided to go into the houses and look for them there. I tried to persuade him not to, that we should wait for back-up. He refused to listen. When he opened a door a guy stood there. Gun in his hand, a look of mixed terror and determination on his face. He ordered us to lift our hands above our heads. We did as he said, but just as the guy was about to walk away he saw me taking down my hands and he fired. At first I didn't understand what had happened. The guy had fired his gun at me and yet I didn't feel any pain. That's when I saw it, my best friend lying on the ground, blood all over him, squirming in pain. He had taken the bullet that was meant for me. I tried to stop the blood flow, but I couldn't. He was lying in a pool of blood that just kept growing bigger. I tried to get an ambulance at our location but it was in vain. By the time the paramedics had reached us, he was already dead.
Since that day, I've gotten married and I have two kids. I named my son after him and my daughter got his mother's name. My husband doesn't know much about him, only that he was my partner and that he died. In a sort of way I've lived two different lives. One before he got killed and one after. The person I was before was a happier, more careless person who enjoyed life. The person I became is more reserved, quieter and thoughtful. Now when I look at my past life I don't recognize myself. I guess that the older me wouldn't be able to understand why I changed so much.
Today I start counting the 11th year without him. But my memory of him has not faded, I will still remember him. At times when I'm sad I'll look back at the time that were and smile. He was such a big part of me then, and he's such a big part of me now. I will never forget him...