Title: - Moving On
Author: - Katt
E-mail: - - PG-13
Feedback: - Like it or loathe it let me know
Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.
Moving On
Inserting her key in the lock Claudette let out a tired sigh as she pushed open her front door. She was exhausted, it was the end of another fraught day and she was weary right down to her bones. Just a quick sandwich, then a shower and then bed. She had a busy, trying day ahead of her tomorrow. Kicking off her shoes she made her way into the kitchen intent on making a chicken sandwich and a cup of coffee. Turning on the kitchen light, her mind wandering slightly to the events that would take place the next day, she almost jumped out of her skin, reaching automatically for her gun, before she recognised the figure seated quietly on one of her kitchen chairs. Smiling up at her, a look of wry amusement on his face, Dutch laughed lightly as he raised his hands spreading them wide and said,
"Don't shoot."
Feeling the tension drain out of her the moment she recognised him Claudette placed her gun on the work surface behind her. Letting out a puff of breath she tried to get her heart beat back under control feeling the racing surge of adrenaline still in her blood stream. Unable to keep a tone of annoyance out of her voice she asked,
"What are you doing here Dutch?"
"I wanted to see you." He replied. " I thought we could talk for a while."
Studying him, her mouth tightening at the rush of negative emotion that coursed through her Claudette leant back against the counter behind her and crossed her arms across her chest,
"Pity you didn't think to talk to me before…" Her voice trailed off and she glanced away staring out of the window at the streetlights burning outside.
"I know. I thought you might feel this way Claudette, but honestly I just couldn't. I thought about it though, a couple of times…a couple of times I nearly did." Dutch replied pausing for a moment before adding. "I was afraid...afraid you'd try to change my mind…"
Turning to look at him Claudette interrupted,
"Of course I'd have tried to change your mind. Jesus, Dutch how could you just leave like you did…you didn't even say goodbye."
"I wrote you a letter." Dutch said, his voice trying to sound upbeat.
"Yeah, I know, your letter…I kept it." Claudette listened to the sadness in her voice wanting to keep hold of the anger, but failing. "It didn't tell me much…not really." Claudette took a deep breath before continuing, "Look what do you want Dutch? I'm tired and I've got a big day tomorrow."
"I know Claudette. It's just…I…ah…I wanted to talk…I miss talking to you."
"I miss talking to you too Dutch, but whose fault is that?" The bitterness she felt creeping into her voice.
Dutch didn't reply, but Claudette felt a stab of regret pass through her at the shadow of sadness that grew even darker in his eyes. She looked down at the man seated in front of her, her eyes flitting over his face, his clothes. Ever the detective always reading body language, visual clues,
"You're a mess." She stated matter of factly.
Dutch looked down at his dark suit. Despite the dark material the stains on it were clearly visible, the ones on his pale blue shirt even more so. A pale, long-fingered hand reached down and rubbed ineffectually at the stains as if he could brush them away. Looking up a little sheepishly, a slight embarrassed smile playing over his lips, he said,
"Yeah, I know."
Reaching up he gently rubbed at his forehead.
Despite herself, despite wanting to keep her anger, Claudette felt a spike of concern,
"What's wrong?" She asked, before she could stop herself old habits of caring still lingering on.
"Bit of a headache that's all." Dutch told her, his hand dropping down to his lap again.
"Well I haven't got anything that'll help you with that." Claudette told him firmly.
Smiling back at her Dutch told her,
"I know…that's okay I'm getting used to it anyway." Obviously wanting to change the subject Dutch asked her, "So who's your new partner?"
"No one yet. Aceveda's having a hard time getting someone to take your place…Finance cuts or some such nonsense. Not that I mind, I…you…" Claudette stumbled over her words for a moment and Dutch cut in,
"Please don't say, "I complete you"." He laughed as he said it, throwing back Claudette's own words at her, making her smile. "What about my open cases?" He added curious to hear her answer.
"They've been shared around."
"Who's got the Peterson case?"
"Shockley I think." Claudette told him.
"The cousin…tell Pete to look at the cousin…Trust me I know." Another small smile played around his lips as he spoke.
Suddenly annoyed at his flippant attitude Claudette said,
"You threw it all away Dutch…you quit. Your friends, your career…your…Everything, you wasted it all."
"I don't know what to say. I never meant to hurt you. I just needed a change, to move on. I needed more than I had I guess. When the moment came I just had to take it. I knew if I hesitated I wouldn't do it."
"Then I wish you'd hesitated Dutch." Claudette told him, her voice heavy with sadness and pain.
Dutch stared up at her looking her in the eye as he told her sincerely,
"It was my decision Claudette. I know you've had a tough time, but it wasn't your fault. I can't rest…I can't move on until you let it go…until you let me go. I wanted to come and say goodbye. You were a good friend, a good partner, but now…now you have to say goodbye to me Claudette…That's how this works." Dutch smiled a slight, hesitant little grin at her.
Claudette knew he was trying to be reassuring, but she was shrouded in her unhappiness and guilt and was finding it hard to let go,
"I should've seen the signs Dutch. I should've known…helped you…saved you…" Her voice broke at the last, and she reached up and angrily wiped away a tear.
Suddenly Dutch was standing in front of her. His voice sad, but warm, calming, as he told her quietly,
"I've been a suicide waiting to happen since I was twelve years old Claudette. It's not your fault. You have to let me go, and you have to let your guilt go. Heal, carry on, be happy…that's what you have to do Claudette. For me okay…do it for me."
Claudette awoke with a start. Pulling herself up she sat up in bed, and reaching over, with a slightly shaking hand, she switched on her bedside lamp. Closing her eyes for a second her mind raced back over her dream. It had been so real, so vivid.
Opening up her eyes she looked over at her black suit hanging on the closet door waiting to be worn at the funeral in the morning. Pain welled up within her at that thought, but it was tempered a little by the realisation that tomorrow they'd be laying Dutch to rest and maybe he'd be able to find some of the peace he'd never seemed to find in life. Tomorrow she'd say goodbye to her friend and partner, but she'd never forget him.
Author's Note: - I know there was no character death warning but it would've ruined what I was trying to do with the fic so if it offends you I'm sorry and if you feel the need to e-mail me about it feel free, but I stand by my decision.