Losing Her Soul
The suspect moves, racing down the alleyway behind the building. Quickly, Bobby and I follow in his path, Bobby always ahead. As he rounds the corner into the alleyway there is a noise, a cracking noise that sounds injurious. I hear a thud, like a body falling and my entire being is filled with fear. I turn the corner to see Bobby getting up, and a bloody bat nearby.
"Bobby!" I yell, as he begins to run after the suspect. He doesn't look back, but he's slower now, in pain and every movement hurts him. As I run past him, I take a look at his face. He's pale, unhealthily so. And sweaty, clammy almost shock-like. He nods at me, gesturing for me to continue. I don't hesitate and I regret that the most. I turn another corner and narrowly avoid being hit with a piece of copper piping.
"Stop!" I scream, pointing my gun at the suspect. He turns, pulling out his own weapon, but before either of us can fire, our back-up arrives. I leave the cuffing and booking of our suspect to the back-up as I go back for my partner. He's lying on the ground, bleeding heavily from a scalp laceration I somehow failed to see earlier. His breathing is shallow and rapid, an expression of pain on his face, and his hands clenched.
Dropping heavily beside him, I take his head and move it to my lap. The ambulance should be here soon. He looks up at me, the loving and tenderness in his eyes shock me.
"Bobby?" I whisper, feeling a tear fall down my cheek. He doesn't say anything, but his breathing becomes more ragged. As his body sags against me, and his grip loosens on my hand, his mouth opens to say something.
"Shhh," I say, "The ambulance should be here soon." Vaguely, I think I hear sirens in the distance. His mouth opens again, and an indistinguishable word is heard. I lean down closer and he repeats.
"Pocket."
I lift my hand from his forehead and move it down to his pocket. My fingers enclose around a box. Opening it, I gasp. A beautiful ring glimmers in the dirty alleyway.
"Yes." His body sags against mine once more, and I know that he is no longer with me.
"Bobby! Bobby!"
Alex wakes up in a cold sweat, tangled in the blankets of the bed. She rolls over and buries her face inside his pillow. The constant nightmare, the aching truth that lies in her heart nearly tear her apart. She knows that she has to move on, yet without him in her life there seems to be no purpose. She feels like a shell of what she used to be. She feels hollow, fragile and broken. Everyday more of her soul is lost, and everyday more of the fight in her body leaves her.
She knows that Bobby would want her to move on, she knows that he wouldn't want her to dwell on the past and she knows that he would want her to be happy. Yet she can do none of those things without him by her side. She goes to work every day, trying to lose herself in the cases brought to her attention, yet she can't. She can't do anything without thinking of Bobby, and every time she tries she loses more of herself.
Everyone at work is wary of her, they all know she's walking a tight rope. They're all aware of the pain she's in, yet no one can help. She's on limited duty, yet she can barely function in the squad room. She finds she does most of her work at home, wrapped in Bobby's sweatshirt and pants, surrounded by his everlasting presence. Yet, the anguish of losing him never rests and inevitably she finds herself in tears.
"God, Bobby," she thinks as she inhales his scent, "Why did you do this?"
Every night she relives the moment she lost him, every night she wakes and cries and every night more of her soul disappears. It's been three months, and she is a shell of what she used to be. She barely eats, sleeps, and functions leaving Mike and Carolyn to watch out for her, yet they can only do so much. She doesn't fight them when they tell her to sleep, she doesn't fight them when they tell her she needs to eat, it is like all the fight and spirit has gone.
Three months ago, the love of her life was murdered. Three months ago, she lost her will to survive, and three months ago, she started to die. She finds it unbearably hard to live, barely surviving each passing day.
"Why did you do this to me, Bobby?" she thinks as more tears stream down her face, "Why did you leave me here without you?"
She sees her family weekly, yet they can do nothing to raise her spirits. She knows her family is worried, but she can't seem to gather the effort to stop them worrying. Each Friday her sister begs her to come on a girls' night out, yet she refuses. She can't go clubbing without thinking of the time that Bobby took her out. She refuses her families help, stating that she's fine, yet she knows she isn't.
As she finds comfort in the scent on his pillow, she ponders about ending it all again. She wants so badly to join him, however she knows he wouldn't want that. And the fact that it was his wish to keep living is the only reason stopping her from taking her own life. She barely remembers what it was like to laugh and smile, she doesn't remember what happiness feels like. All she knows is sadness, grief and despair.
Her heart aches, throbs and longs for her love, yet she knows he can never come to her. And that hurts her more than anything. The horrible, terrible loneliness that only he can control, the sense of abandonment that only he can make disappear and the heartache that only he can cure. As she buries her face further into his pillow, his scent surrounding her, she feels all the more lonely and broken.
(This is my second CI Fic, and my first Character Death, so I apologise if it's bad. Please let me know what you think, I would appreciate any comments on how to make my characters more in character! Once again, I apologise if it's bad!)