Notes: Done by request on the ficsondemand community in LJ. No, I don't hate Grace; it's quite the opposite.

No Answer.

Dying in the hands of a burglar isn't that uncommon in New York, sadly. Ty Davies wishes it was uncommon every fucking day, but even more when his partner and best friend Brendan Finney's knees stop holding him up, when he has to hear the ER doctors saying that the bullet had hit an artery, they worked on her for forty five minutes, she lost too much blood, they're sorry, Grace is dead.

It's unfair, he thinks while trying to calm a Finney that first is furious and just as quickly is bawling his eyes out, sobbing, hitting the floor with his fist, screaming his throat raw with anguish. It's unfair because he knows how much Finn loved (loves) his wife, how fucking much Grace and their little one means for his friend.

The three years old kid who calls him uncle Ty and who says in a proud little voice that he's going to be "a p'liceman jus' like dad n' uncle Ty n' a par'medic jus' like mom!" and he's suddenly, incredibly grateful that he and Sasha broke up – this time for good - before she got pregnant again, before they had hurt each other even more and would have ended fucking up a little one's life.

"She can't. She can't be… fuck, Ty! What the fuck am I doing if… Fuck! She stopped being a paramedic because it is too fucking dangerous! She can't… it's not… a fucking stupid son of a bitch burglar! Grace can't… she can't…"

He doesn't say a thing and just allows Brendan to scream into his shoulder and cry, keeps his hands on Finney's back while his partner's are tightly curled around his back. He remembers how it was with Sully when Tatiana died, and remembers – somewhat – how it was when his father (and Finn's) and he knows that he can't say a fucking thing that will make Finn feel better.

Ty has always hated feeling useless.

Brendan is quiet afterwards, too quiet. It's Ty who signs the papers, who listens when the resident tells him that they'll deliver the body tomorrow, the one who phones Brendan's mother to let her know the news and who hears her cry and the one who asks Brendan's sister to keep Charles Tyrone (C. T., and that one had been Grace's brand of humor) with them, Brendan will go to see them in the morning..

The widow is looking at his wedding ring and doesn't respond when Ty tells him that he'll take him home. His shirt has blood. He had hugged Grace's bloodied body to him and had stayed like that for what seems like hours and after that, Brendan hasn't moved and hasn't talked. Ty is awfully sure that if it wasn't a reflex, Finney wouldn't even be breathing.

He looks around, trying to see if by any chance Carlos is near, maybe he was working that night even though he knows that since Nieto became a father he always tries to have the early shifts so he can be with his kids as much as possible and goes towards Brendan, pulling him up.

"C'mon, I'll take you home."

No answer.

"Brendan, c'mon man, we've to go." This time he also puts his hand on his partner's shoulder, keeps his voice soft. Finney doesn't look up but then again, he wasn't exactly expecting the grieving man to do so.

"… don't wanna go there."

Ty fights hard with the aching pity that wants to crawl in his eyes, disguises it as only sympathy.

"Wanna crash at my place, then?"

Brendan nods and doesn't say another thing in the whole forty five minutes it takes to reach his place. Ty doesn't try to belittle the emotions of his friend with words. Whatever he is to say, Finney knows it and what he doesn't know he'll never know, especially not on the night his wife was murdered.

Ty takes his partner to his room, pushes him to sit on the bed, tells him to take of his shirt and gives him one of his own, pulls a pair of his pants.

"Wanna take a shower?"

No answer again. Ty wasn't really expecting one but it still hurts. Grace has been dead for three hours and Finney has already changed so much. He worries who he is going to find in the morning. Ty puts his hand on Brendan's shoulder again, squeezes softly, carefully.

"Sleep here. I'll take the couch, man."

"… Stay."

Now it's he the one that doesn't answer, just takes of his shoes, goes to the bathroom and comes out in his boxers and a black shirt. Brendan is lying on his side of the bed, eyes tightly shut and he's shivering and Ty tries to think that it's because he didn't put on his shirt, but he knows better. Without another word he puts out the lights and goes to the other side of the bed, lies on his back and just breathes.

Brendan's voice is muffled by the pillow, the darkness, the sob clinging to his throat.

"…what am I going to tell him?"

Ty doesn't answer, just turns to his side and pulls his friend into a tight embrace, Brendan's tears soaking his shirt, his body shaking so bad and he just feels so fucking cold. Ty presses his lips against Finney's temple and stops giving a damn, making stupid reassurances against his partner's skin, one hand curled around a shoulder, the other one rubbing goosebumps on the back away.

And if his lips linger a bit more than they should, he doesn't think any of it. It's just comforting a friend.