One Hell of a Road to Christmas

Main character slightly OOC. But who knows what could have really happened in such circumstances? Warning: this is only a FICTION. Never play with matches, they burn.

Disclaimer: I do not own the guys. It's just that Blondie sometimes looks so desperate when his partner and best friend gets hurt, that I imagined one day he could cross the line and ...

Big tissue warning! Events may not lead to what you expect...

A big thanks to Alysoun for her excellent BR work and suggestions!

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Chapter 1

Prologue

I feel safe here. As always. On the beach. Alone.

The ocean never asked any questions. Never judged me. Never tried to give me false words of comfort, of hope. It is just there, rolling, on and on, day after day.

It has been constant for an eternity. Wave after wave. Washing away the dirt from the sand. Its voice washing away the dirt from my soul. I always liked it here. I loved to come here with him. Just for a walk. Or some jogging, when I managed to drag him out to exercise. Or to take photos of the birds that would come and eat pieces of hard bread from my hand. Or just to sit on the sand and silently stare at the horizon, side by side.

That was before everything happened. Before the world collapsed. Before he went down. In another lifetime. In a another world. With a different horizon.

I can't see past the next minutes now. Every single moment is such a struggle to survive. And the worst is, the more I try, the more I see the end of the tunnel. Yet, the light at the end of my tunnel is not bright nor glorious. Actually, there is no light at the end of this tunnel. Just some dark fog calling out to me. And I walk towards it. I have been walking to it for the last ten months now.

They said it would take time for me to heal inside. That's bullshit! Time passes as time does and it hurts even more everyday. Inside is just a piece of debris, which nobody cares about. Not even me. They cared in the beginning, for a while. Then I had to push them all away from me. Because I was too deep in my sorrow to l et them follow me. I even pushed my wife away although she had traveled half of the world to build a life with me. Years before.

And now there she is by herself. I can't take care of her anymore. I can't take care of myself, let alone her. I loved her too much for that. God knows I loved her. She deserves better than this. She deserves a man, strong and caring, not the rubbish I have become.

I wish I could tell her that. I wish I could face her and let her know what's deep inside my heart. The pain. The regret. The guilt.

The guilt. Because I was not at the right place at the right time. I was guilty that day. I should have been the one to hit the floor. I was not quick enough; I let him take my place. I was a coward, dammit!

Somehow, I feel like I have been a coward several times. When I did not tell him how I felt when things were tough during an assignment, when he was there for me and I did not thank him. OK, we always knew words were not necessary. Yet I have the feeling now that he would have liked to hear them from time to time. Just a simple "Thanks, Buddy". We just used to look at each other and all was said. But I should have uttered the words now and then. I should have told him "Thanks, Buddy."

How could possibly I thank him for falling in my place?

So I played the coward. I did not say anything. I stayed by his side until he was gone. God, I miss him so much! I miss the touch of his hand on my shoulder. I miss the blue eyes watching deep into my soul. I miss his gentle smile when I was hurt. I miss his voice calling me in the morning to tell me "Ready, Buddy, I'll pick you up soon.". I miss our beers together. I miss everything about him.

And I know I will never face him again. It is too late.

I was wasted long ago.

So I can't bear the pain and guilt any longer. That's why I came here. To say goodbye. To the ocean. To him.

The ocean knows the bond we shared. Especially the day we threw our badges away, in a perfectly synchronized gesture of disgust towards the system. It never questioned our decision.

This is the big goodbye. I'd better leave now, go back to my apartment and do what I have been planning to do for weeks. I left a note in the kitchen, next to the blender. They will all know why I did it. They will understand now that nobody could help me out of this. The wound simply just won't heal.

And the only words that come into my mind right at this moment are: "I'm sorry, Buddy. I love you."

*******

He goes back to his apartment. She is not there. He goes to his bedroom. Closes all the windows and "heavy curtains" so the place is dark. Lights a candle. Next to the candle, there is a spoon, a needle and a triple fold. With enough pure skag in it to OD. He prepares the mixture until it's ready to be sucked into the syringe. He puts a rubber band around his arm. Looks at the needle. One last thought in his mind.

I always knew, somehow deep in my heart, I would find the way to end it all. Now I cross the line. That final LINE. I love you, Buddy! I always have.

He takes the needle and slowly moves it towards his arm.

*******