A.N.: This fic was very much inspired by "Famous Blue Raincoat" the song wrote by Leonard Cohen. I used the version sung by Tori Amos when writing it.
If you were wondering, in my other stories, Kowalski's name is Jan so there is no big stretch from that to Jane.
In the middle of the night, he gets up from the bed, from the warm presence of the woman next to him. He couldn't get much sleep these days. He watches from the window how snow covers the desolate New York landscape. After the riots, half of the city had been left looking like a set in a post-apocalyptic movie, but the reality of it strikes you right in the pit of your stomach. His mind had been set for a few days now, so he sets down at the desk and pulls out paper and a pen and starts writing the letter, an apology, an eulogy, a good-bye.
"Skipper,
The last intel we had about you said you had been wounded when you reached your destination. I hope you're better or I'm writing all this in vain. You're living all alone in the desert? I suppose it's fitting. Your military training hasn't failed you this time either. Still keeping that damnable log?
Do you remember that night you said you had to get away from this wretched place? When the riots were dying down? Jane finally told me what's in that pendant around her neck. Yesterday she came to me, smiling of all things. 'I know you're itching to ask me what I carry in this pendant, but circumstances have turned you polite so you hold yourself back.' she said to me. She opened it. It was a lock of your hair. She told me you gave it to her so she can have a piece of you with her and not lose you as she did the other two. "Although he's leaving he'll be with me, he said". I wanted to touch it, but she snapped that pendant shut faster than a bullet.
I remember the last time I saw you. You were a man torn down, living for nothing and no one, with his brothers dead. You had your black coat on and told me and Jane to stay sheltered until you returned. She fought you, wanted to come with. You went out to search for Marlene through still ongoing mayhem. When you returned, hours later, you came back alone and we understood. Jane comforted you and you let yourself be comforted as best you knew. I could see every consoling caress between you two and I felt amiss. You shut yourselves in a room and I didn't see you until the next evening. I pretended then, but there's no need now, is there?"
Behind him, Jane stirs in bed.
"Jane is awake"
She sits up, resting her weight on her elbow and tries to figure out what he is doing at the desk this late at night, or really early in the morning.
'What are you doing?'
'Writing a letter.' He says, hoping it would assuage her curiosity. It doesn't work and he should know it.
'To whom? At this hour?'
'To Skipper' he says it nonchalantly. He waits for the response, but he is met with silence for long moments. He turns to look at her, but she's no longer in the room.
"She sends her regards.
How did that old song go? I guess that I miss you and I guess I forgive you. I'm glad you stood in my way, Skipper. If you ever change your mind and come back to New York you may not find me here, but you know she would wait for you as long as it took.
If these are the last lines I'll ever write or the last lines you'll ever read I want to thank you. After your teammates, Private and Rico, died she was lost. I used to look into those intelligent, blue eyes and see them marred by death. I never knew how to take her pain away, not then, not now. Thank you for giving her hope, even for a short time.
Sincerely, F. Blowhole"