All too Human

They didn't keep the casket open for the ceremony. No amount of stitching or make-up would make Agent Hale look like the living; he had guaranteed that. He couldn't deal with seeing his best friend lying in red velvet, seeming to sleep serenely, knowing he caused it. However he could deal with the sight of a polished oak coffin that held the body of the man who betrayed him.

He kept reminding himself of that fact through the service; he had killed the man who was going to end his career. He had to do it. This job was his everything. His wife ran out on him, pregnant with their 2nd child, after he had spent a month undercover, tailing a suspected child molester. When he returned, glorious that he had saved an innocent child's life, he found the house devoid of all its furnishings and signs of life. Only an envelope remained, lying in the center of the dining room, illuminated by the moonlight shining through the window. There were no explanations to why she left or where she was going. It was just a list of instructions for him on how to put money in their joint account to pay for the child support.

He had done that for the past six years now, never bothering to find out where his ex-wife was living with the kids, although he had the resources to do so. It wasn't that he didn't love his kids, but he didn't want them to see what he had become.

Danny's kids were at the funeral, sitting in the front row of lawn chairs next to their mother and grandmother. They weren't crying yet. The death had still to sink into their little minds. They just watched the vice president with a sense of awe, comprehending that the lady, who stood in front of them, saying such nice things about their father, could soon be their president. It was almost tragic that they didn't know that woman was the cause of their father's death.

When he started working for the Secret Service, he was replacing a man who had been there for thirty years. Out of respect, he remembered asking the man what advice he had to give to a yuppie such as himself. He never forgot his words, " Don't let your morals dictate how you do your job."

He had taken it all to heart. When he killed his first person, for what reason he never found out, he had to pull out the knife to make sure it looked like a random slaying. He tugged and tugged, blood running down the hilt of the blade and onto his hands and the cuffs of his suit, and he wondered if what he was doing was right. When the knife was finally wretched out of the body, under the scrutiny of his superior officer, he wiped the knife off with the girl's skirt and cleaned his hands with his suit jacket. Then he and his superior went out for drinks to forget about what they had done.

That was the only time he felt guilt over killing someone. After that night, with its post-inebriated nightmares of him killing his own daughter, he swore he would stop feeling it. He had succeeded. He didn't feel bad about killing Danny. It was just like old times when he was working solo, undercover as a police man, before he got involved with the Secret Service and the whole Lincoln Burrows fiasco. He didn't miss the comments Danny made that pointed out just how wrong what they were doing was or having to give out constant reassurances to keep Danny motivated enough to follow through with the job. He didn't miss the fact that every spare moment they had, Danny was talking about how his little girl had won the spelling bee or how he and his wife went shopping for baby clothes.

But who was he kidding? The tears that were running down his face from the pastor's words weren't an act. He could deny all he wanted that Danny's death didn't affect him but it didn't distance himself any further from the fact he had really cared about his best friend. He was the person who consoled him after his wife left him, inviting him over every holiday to play with his kids so he didn't feel so lonely. Danny had only followed him into the Secret Service because he had told him that there was a job opening there and it would make him more money; he had college to think about soon. Danny wasn't cut out for their line of work. He was all too human, not yet a machine with its automated responses like he, himself was. He had tried so hard to protect Danny from the side of the job that was bad, the useless killings and the power games, but they both ended up getting tangled anyway.

Danny's wife chose to give the closing words on her husband. She told how Danny was a wonderful man, who would have sacrificed everything so his wife and kids would be happy. He was a kind, loyal man to all his friends and for him to die, doing the job he loved, protecting his country, was a great honor.

It was all lies. He wasn't protecting his country nor did he love his job when he died. And Danny wasn't a loyal man. That was why he could live with himself after killing his best friend. Danny had betrayed him. Danny would have turned him in, put in the jail to repent for the sins he helped to commit.

It hadn't bothered him that Danny finally tired of listening to him and was going to do the right thing and tell the truth. He, himself, would have done it if he had the guts to do so. But to name the man who had watched your back for years, who was your best man at your wedding, who cared about you more then his own family…that was wrong. And so Danny had to be killed.

The ceremony ended, and he stood up, smoothing the creases out of his suit, and then dried his eyes. Today was the last day he would feel bad about what he did. Tomorrow he would forget about Danny and put all his energy into making sure that he didn't kill Danny for nothing. He would find Veronica Donovan and kill her.

"Paul!"

He turned around to see Danny's wife, coming towards him. Her eyes were rimmed with puffy red eyelids and heavy bluish bags under her eyes and although her black dress and pumps were clean and crisp-looking like they had been freshly bought, she looked like a complete mess. He tried to keep the fear and panic that was rising in him off his face and out of his voice.

"Hey," he tried to smile at her. It felt more like his face had twisted together. "How are you holding up?"

"As good as one can be," she said softly, ever polite, hand unconsiously rubbing the bulge of her stomach.

"Is there anything I can do to help out?"

She shook her head before reaching into her pocketbook and flipping open her vibrating cellphone. "Hello?"

Seeing that she was occupied, he saw his chance to escape. He waved his hand in good-bye and began walking as fast as he could away from her. He had forgotten that she was pregnant. Somehow that made him even feel worse then he already did about killing Danny. He was denying a son or daughter a father.

"Wait."

He relucantly turned around. Her cellphone was gone and she had stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jacket. Blonde hair was blowing in the air and to Kellerman, she looked beautiful, almost unearthly.

"I need to know something."

He nodded indulgently, steeling himself for the question he knew would come.

"Did you have something to do with Danny's death?"

He opened his mouth but couldn't find his voice to deny it. He sighed and let his gaze meet hers. " He was my best friend. Why would I kill him?"

"I had to ask," she responded.

He sensed weakness and he pounced. " Do you think I killed Danny?"

In the silence that followed, he could hear his heartbeat in his head and the wind roaring in his ears. She just stared blankly at him, hands crossed over her chest, contemplating her answer.

"Yes."

The words were a declaration and it hurt to hear it, like someone had knocked the wind out of him. "I'm sorry to hear that. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work." He walked away from her, griting his teeth as hard as he could to keep his features neutral.

He could feel her eyes baring into his back as he stalked towards the parking lot. He should have never come but he had wanted to say good-bye. He should have known that he didn't have the right to do so. Murderers shouldn't still have their souls. They still shouldn't have feelings.

It was something he needed to work on.

Author's Note: I am not sure if I like this story or not. Parts of it, I am happy with but it seems unbalanced to me. It was more stream of conscious then anything else. This is the fourth or fifth year that I have posted my traditional Christmas story and every year, it gets harder to do. Maybe it is because I have more schoolwork leading up to Christmas break or the days off before the actual holiday decrease every year.

But anyhow, this story formed a few months ago. I noticed that the Prison Break community is fairly fond of the inmates and less of the people in the outside world. I also noticed that the inmates are the only characters that are three-dimensional while all the other characters are rather flat and static. I wanted to change that, give some personality to the characters who are seen only one way.

I always found Agent Kellerman to be one of the more fascinating characters. In a comparison to Agent Hale, Kellerman is like the antichrist. He doesn't care whom he has to take out to complete the job. He appears to lack morals and is very good at manipulating the people around him with words.

But I don't think of him as purely bad. I feel he is one of those people who live their life on their ambition and their drive to succeed and get to the top. People who only live on ambition don't care about moral obligations or the right thing to do because the right thing is whatever will advance them further. This makes them be perceived like machines and not human, much like Kellerman appears on the show.

I believe he does feel emotions. I think he feels guilty about killing all the people he has but he doesn't allow his guilt to get in the way of the mission like Agent Hale did. Kellerman is the sort of person who takes all those negative emotions and feeling about himself and tells himself, " I will no longer feel this way." It's the technique of force-of-will, similar to if you have an itch on your nose, and you say the itch doesn't exist, it shouldn't exist. It still exists and eventually you will scratch it.

Because Kellerman has been the ambitious sort for some time now, he will have lost some touch with his emotions. He wouldn't understand them anymore. Therefore, he rationalizes them away by blaming the murder of his best friend on other people, like the vice-president and Hale himself. He is constantly trying to justify his actions to himself to make them seem good, almost noble.

As for when he feels bad about what he did in the story, which is at the end with seeing Danny's wife, I have noticed that ambitious people don't feel bad about hurting people to get to their goals. They, however, feel bad about hurting the people who were not at all involved in their goal. For example, Danny's wife and kids had nothing to do with Danny's betrayal. They will forever be lacking someone in their lives. And that is where Kellerman's guilt lies. He is denying someone else something.

I felt bad about giving Kellerman a back story but I didn't think there are anyone to explain Kellerman's attitudes and actions without knowing what led him to this point. Besides, I don't think the TPTB have any intention of making people feel sympathy for Kellerman, so he'll probably not get his past explored.

Anyway, Merry Christmas and i hope you enjoyed my story. Please review...