Did everyone else hate the ending for Lost Son? I really did. I'm not going to go on and on about how I hate the fact that Rory Cochrane left or that I don't think he should have died for crying out loud, because I'm okay with that, really. My problem is with why he died. I mean, really, if you got shot because your gun wasn't clean and you managed to survive the experience would you just not ever clean your gun? Would you not learn from your experience(painful, terrifying, experience)? I don't think so. So, here's my take on that.
Reviews are (as always) appreciated.
Horatio sat on his porch, a beer in hand, and watched the sun set into the ocean.
He took a drink and sighed, his thoughts on the events of the last few days.
He should have been wearing a vest.
They both should have been wearing vests.
Every time he ever sent one of his crew out he told them to wear a uniform, which included Kevlar but the one time that it really mattered...
They both should have been wearing vests.
If they have been wearing vests Tim would still be around. His ribs might have been bruised and though Horatio might have suspended him for not taking proper care of his weapon and therefor endangering his co-workers but he wouldn't be six feet under.
The incident was being labeled as a gun malfunction which was going to start rumours of poor gun maintenance, but really and truly it was Horatio's fault because he didn't make sure one of his own was safe.
He had been about to take the blame for it all but Eric heard about it.
"What will it help? He's gone, killed in the line of duty, buried, and gone. If you go in and say it's entirely your fault you can lose so much. You know Stetler's got a file out on you? You do this and you make his case against you that much stronger. How do you think things will be if you lose your supervisor position or even your job? How do you think that will affect things around here?"
He had conceded the point and kept his mouth shut. Tim's reputation was what it was and he had achieved that immortal status of any officer killed in the line of duty.
Tim might have had several more years of happy, successful life but he would rather have gone relatively fast and young in the manner that he had than slowly by cancer or old age.
Horatio was angry at Tim but Eric was angrier. Maybe it was the fact that Tim hadn't said goodbye and hadn't given the young Cuban a chance to say goodbye. The fact that his death could have been so easily prevented...
...if he had been wearing a vest.
And yet, Eric was going on with life, he wasn't stuck on the image of thick, dark, red blood spreading over the tile floor. He didn't feel the warm liquid on the side of his face where he checked for a heartbeat. He hadn't held the New York native still as he convulsed when the last of the life slipped out of him...
Horatio knew that Alexx was also having a tough time, and he suspected Calleigh wasn't doing much better but the women seemed to be handling the entire situation much better than either of the men.
He dropped his head into his hands as it was quite suddenly too heavy for just his neck muscles. He was going to have to start thinking about a new trace tech, he wouldn't give the new person the title of replacement because whoever it was wouldn't...couldn't be a replacement for Timothy Speedle but the were short a body now and all of them were already exhausted.
He thought of the funeral that had been earlier that day, before he'd come home and grabbed his first bottle out of the refrigerator, before he'd taken up residence on his back steps. It had been a surreal affair.
The church had been packed but Horatio wasn't sure why they were in a church, Tim hadn't been religious, in fact he had been quietly non-religious. A side effect, Horatio suspected, of unsuccessful bargaining when his friend died in high school.
Then they had driven to the graveyard. Horatio had been one of the first there as he'd been with the police escort and he had watched the rest of the cars arrive. He had been slightly shocked, even in his numbed state, by the sheer number of people there.
He had no idea that Tim had touched that many people's lives but he had recognized several of them as victims who had had Tim on their case.
After the funeral he talked to Tim's parents but hadn't known what to say and it had been a very short conversation mostly filled with uncomfortable silences.
As he had started for the parking lot and his car he had been stopped by a young man. His resemblance to Tim had been startling and Horatio guessed who he was before he identified himself as the younger brother.
He looked uncomfortable and he definitely hadn't belonged there. He had asked Horatio if they could go have a coffee and talk and Horatio said yes even though all he really wanted to do was go home and get drunk.
Horatio drove the young man to a cafe and they spent well over three hours talking about Tim. The boy had never known his older brother well, being 13 years younger had been the start of the gap, then Tim was a bit of a loner, and finally his disappearance for most of his adult life had set them apart, almost strangers.
The younger brother told Horatio that Tim came to visit him in California, where he was studying at Stanford to become a surgeon, during the last Christmas break, something that he had never done before and the brother was so happy that Tim had, at least they had had that much.
Fin