A/N: This story was inspired by a line from Angel after Jack is killed: "I miss him too. We won't be able to bring him back, but we're going to send him some company." It reminded me that Lieutenant Green cashed in his chips not too long after Jack did, so I imagined a scenario where they ran across each other on the 'other side', so to speak. Enjoy!
It was very quiet. Muted and colourless, the bland scenery was broken only by hulking, indistinct shapes, shrouded by dirty fog. Nearby, the mist was shifting, and a single solitary figure broke the monotony of the landscape.
Jack Mercer looked exactly the same in death as he had in life. He did not seem to be wearing the clothes that he had died in (and Lieutenant Green remembered the once-white, blood-spattered shirt all too clearly); instead, he wore what had always suited him best. He had a hand tucked into one of the pockets of his beat-up leather jacket, and he wore the same worn-out jeans and heavy black boots that had been his uniform since he had been a teenager. His shock of blond hair was even wilder than usual, evidence that he had been running his hands through it. The kid even held a cigarette in his finger-tips, the end glowing dimly in the greyish light.
It was that which caught Green's eye as he approached the youngest Mercer. "Hey, man. You know those things are gonna kill you."
Jack looked up, smirking as his eyes settled on the police officer. "They are? Wow, good thing I got shot in a couple of major organs and bled to death. Looks like those idiots in balaclavas saved me from a long, painful battle with lung cancer. Halle-fuckin'-lujah."
Green shook his head, sliding his own hands into his pockets. Wherever he was, it wasn't cold; he had only just noticed that he was not wearing a jacket. "You haven't changed at all, Jack Mercer."
"You have," Jack said, flicking ashes off of the end of his cigarette.
"Yeah? I got a hair-cut," suggested Green wryly.
"Nah, I know what it is," said Jack, lazily looking Green up and down. "You got a couple of bullet holes in you that you didn't have before."
Green's response was matter-of-fact. He shrugged, and said, "Yeah. Detective Fowler and I had philosophical differences."
"Yeah?" drawled Jack, smiling a little wider. "Don't tell me you tried to resolve it with words."
"Nope. I took a pool cue to him. He took issue with that." The police officer was decidedly unapologetic.
Jack whistled. "I'm impressed, Lieutenant Green. I didn't think you had it in you."
"Hey, don't forget that I grew up on the same streets you grew up on," Green retorted. "Besides, I can't stand crooked cops."
Jack shook his head slightly. "You know what kills me? No pun intended," he added, as Green started to grin. "Here I am, talking to the only honest cop in Detroit, and we're on the wrong goddamned side of the pearly gates."
"What are you saying?" Green asked. One corner of his mouth jerked upwards. "That life's not fair?"
Jack shrugged. "You just got the lousy end of the deal, man. The nice guy finishes last again."
It was Green's turn to shrug. "I knew what I was signing up for. Kinda figured that trying to be everyone's moral compass was going to get me into trouble at some point."
"Well, you were a good guy," Jack said, and a brief silence fell as he took one last drag on his cigarette and tossed it away. "Bobby thought you were alright."
Green snorted. "Didn't stop him from giving me a hard time whenever the hell he felt like it."
Jack waved a hand. "Bobby gives everyone a hard time." Something seemed to occur to him. "Hey, how is he, anyway? Him and Angel and Jerry still hanging in there? I haven't seen any of them since I kicked it."
"Yeah, they're still running around, raising hell," Green said, nodding. "You checkin' out really tore them up, though. You should've seen the beating Bobby laid on one of the guys who shot you. Guy was lucky he had dental records, or else we'd still be trying to identify him."
Jack smiled. "Fuckin' Bobby..."
Green offered a small smile in return, and silence fell once more. He had never been very close with the youngest Mercer, having met him only briefly. Casting about for something to say, the ex-cop remembered something that the kid had mentioned previously. "So what was it you said about the wrong side of the pearly gates? Are we in Heaven?"
"This?" Jack asked, gesturing to indicate the featureless landscape. "Nah. I don't think we stay here indefinitely. It's like a waiting area, I think. I've been here for a little while, now. I don't think I'll be waiting for much longer."
"What are we waiting for?" asked Green, sceptical.
"To go on," Jack said, as though it were obvious.
"On where?" Green persisted.
"Well, I don't know, do I?" Jack said, a little impatiently. He scrubbed one hand through his hair, and something around the edge of his silhouette wavered. "Like I said, though: won't be long now, for me."
It was in that moment that Lieutenant Green felt a sort of finality to the conversation, like being at the bed-side of someone very old. "You give your regards to your momma for me," he said. "She was a good lady."
"Sure," Jack said. "If I see her. Ain't no guarantees that I'm going where she went."
Green laughed. "Kid, trust me. If there's a Heaven, you got a place in it."
Jack half-smiled, and his figure seemed to grow more and more indistinct. "Maybe I'll see you around?"
"Sure," said Green. "I'm gonna wait here a little longer. I'm in no hurry."
Jack nodded and raised a hand in a final farewell gesture. Green raised his own in response, and did not let it drop to his side until the youngest Mercer had faded away, leaving no sign that he had ever been there.
Green had been glad for the familiarity of conversation with someone he had known in life; it had made the transition a little easier to take. Now it was his turn to wait, and as he sat down and leaned back on his hands, he found that he did not mind. After all, he had all the time in the world, and the remaining Mercer brothers would definitely be sending him some company.