He looked down at the younger man. "The name White would have suited you," he thought, "so pure, almost innocent." As he stroked the young man's face with his hand he felt his body starting to tremble. He knew there was no other way, but still he hesitated. There was something that held him back, and as he looked into those sorrow-filled eyes he reminisced, for just a second.

Their pairing had seemed very obvious; the older, experienced man, and the young, restless lad. At first he had felt some objections cause he didn't feel like babysitting on a job like this, but he had soon found out the boy stood his ground. The jobs Nice Guy Eddy made them do where lightened by their flowing conversations, and they even went out for a beer one night. Indifference turned into affection.

His heart had missed a beat when the boy got shot…..jesus, he had felt like screaming his lungs out. He had kept his cool though, and he figured that if he said it would be okay often enough it would all be okay. So that's what he did; and he even made the boy say it, cause….well, just because he needed to hear him say it.

The older man had twitched every time he looked in the rear-view mirror, and saw the panic stricken boy on the backseat. The lad was going on and on about how he was going to die, and all he could do was hold his hand. Goddamn, he had never felt so helpless before.

And now here they were. The boy lay in his arms, dying, and he wasn't doing to well himself; Mr Pink had fled with the diamonds, and left them on their own. He heard himself sob, but refused to cry….he knew the boy had a good heart…..despite the fact he was a cop. He knew the boy would have done him right, but at this point, there was only one way to go. It was just like in one of those old movies…..tied together. It was almost funny. And as he pulled the boy closer and placed the gun against his cheek, he actually smiled a bit.