I remember the day my heart broke.
It was supposed to be a simple bust. Go in, arrest the bad guys and rescue the informant. Instead I wound up holding a gun to your head.
The head of my partner. My partner of eight years.
Did all those years mean nothing to you?
Eight years I stood by you. Through thick and thin. Through all of your crazy ideas. Through all your crazy plans.
I can't begin to count how many times we went undercover together. Or how many hostages we saved, how many jumpers we talked down.
Did all of it mean nothing to you?
All those late nights. Us working at our desks or one of our homes. All those take out orders. All those bar drinks. All those random pieces of information that pulled us closer.
Did it mean nothing to you?
I stood beside you when your Mother died. I comforted you. I understood when you needed time.
I was there.
How could you do this? How could you go undercover and not tell me?
Partners for eight years. Did it mean nothing to you?
Is a gold shield truly worth more than the friendship we had?
I remember the day my heart broke.
It was the day I held a gun to your head. It was the day I slapped handcuffs on your wrists.
I remember the day my heart broke.
It was the day my partner of eight years suddenly became a stranger.
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A.N. This was written really fast. Hopefully it makes sense. I can't seem to stop with the Purgatory angst can I? :D