Normally, he would sleep in on his days off.
But, for some reason, he woke up a little earlier than usual. He had assumed it was because he was used to getting
up early for the drive to work, or maybe he was hungry.
He had a bowl of cereal awhile ago, and when he got up to try to go back to sleep he could faintly hear the rain as it
pattered on his windowsill.
He didn't know how long he had been standing by the window, watching the droplets as they fell, it was just so
peaceful…
Stefan rubbed his forearms, feeling the goosebumps under his fingertips.
When it rained, it was quiet, chilly, and he felt somber and nostalgic all at the same time.
There's something interesting about how it just comes out of no where and is suddenly everywhere.
It was making him sleepy, having an almost hypnotic effect…
It was a nice, pleasant drizzle, much lighter than the rainstorm that night.
He didn't want to think about it, but it was like someone had removed a cork in his brain and all those memories
came rushing back whether he wanted them to or not.
Stefan could still remember his face.
Sad blue eyes, lips that hardly ever smiled - they were always pursed so tightly, like he had something to say but
was afraid to voice it. Blonde hair, a little tuft would always stick up when he took his hat off; Stefan had called him
a rooster once and he got an eye roll in response.
Cole always wore the best suits, he always seemed to try to give the best impression when he met people, even
though they were unnecessary - he was the Golden Boy, after all.
He was a veteran, he won the silver star in battle, and he spent a year on the beat before getting promoted as a traffic
detective. His track record spoke better of him than those damn snappy suits, but the thought counts, he supposed…
Cole never did like to talk about the war, and it always puzzled him.
Thinking back on it now, maybe it was really stupid to ask Cole about it; his partner had reacted to Stefan as if he
had just raided someone's underwear drawer.
But he was only curious, he was just trying to make conversation.
They were going to be partners for awhile, he wanted to get off on the right foot and bond with Cole.
But, it was the exact opposite, unfortunately.
Stefan liked to think that he did a pretty good job of smoothing things over and…Well, maybe Cole kept the peace
better than he would if he tried, but they balanced each other out fairly well, so it was fine.
Those were probably the quietest car rides he had ever experienced…
Cole didn't talk very much, he only really talked about the cases they worked on and he made it a point to only
voice what mattered.
Stefan, on the other hand, tried so hard to make conversation with the guy and Cole would only listen.
He was never sure if it was thoughtful or bemused silence, or if Cole was so annoyed but didn't want to start a fight
so he kept his mouth shut.
Sometimes Cole would add his own piece once in awhile, so maybe there was progress, after all.
He used to joke that Cole was dead inside, now he was just dead.
He's been gone for…Awhile, now.
Stefan didn't drink before bed anymore, hell, sometimes he even forgot that Cole existed in the first place.
But it was the little things that reminded him of his friend.
Bing Crosby would come on the radio sometimes and Stefan would remember how Cole used to drum his fingers on
the steering wheel to match the tune. Or he would get a hotdog and remember the face Cole made at him on the rare
days he asked for relish. And sometimes on windy days, he would remember when Cole's hat flew off his head and
how hard he laughed as he watched Cole chase after it.
He liked those days, as subtle as they were.
Stefan was sad to see Cole get promoted and move on without him.
It was a bit lonely, even alien to him, to be in traffic without Cole. But, at the time, he knew it wasn't the end of the
world and he could still see him. Stefan was incensed to try to take his job seriously again and he worked hard to
take on whatever cases were available and earn Leary's approval before receiving his own promotion.
He thought Cole was fine, he thought Cole could handle himself, but…
Well, he's still not sure what happened that night.
That day was supposed to be like every other day.
Someone had heard a commotion in that quack's office. And he and Rusty were called in when the good doctor was
found dead. Mal said that he was strangled, but there was blood on a glass ball found on the floor and the window
was broken.
After doing some digging, Stefan found out that Elsa was a patient and she hadn't shown up to work when he called
to check. It didn't look good.
He told Rusty to stay behind and call Cole and let him in on what was happening; he knew it would mean a lot to
him.
Cole and his partner, Biggs, went off on their own while he and Rusty continued to try to find out who wanted
Fontaine dead.
That was all, until an APB was put out for Kelso.
The next morning, god, the next morning had to be one of the worst days of his life. No cop should ever find their
friend like that.
Thankfully, time and booze had erased the worst parts of the image of Cole that day that haunted him when he was
at his most vulnerable.
Cold, wet, an arm bent the wrong way…
Stefan couldn't remember what color Cole's face was, but he remembered him looking surprisingly peaceful, that
was a blessing.
'Stop.'
Stefan screwed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, suddenly aware that his forehead was
pressing up against the chilled window.
He knew Cole wouldn't want to be remembered that way…
He rubbed the cool spot as he stepped away from the window.
He hated the cold…
He was so tired but he couldn't sleep, which only left him with one option.
Stefan paced around the kitchen as he waited for the kettle of water to boil, wondering what he would do on his day
off tomorrow.
As crazy as it sounded, maybe he would go see Kelso and offer him lunch or something.
It was the least he could do for him after dragging himself up to his apartment in a drunken stupor and yelling at
him. Man, those Marine fellas pack a punch; his face hurt for a week after that.
He can laugh about it now, at least.
Yeah, that sounded like a good plan…
He used to blame himself for not being there for Cole, he spent months wondering what he could've done to help –
sometimes the thought still creeps up on him when he least suspects it.
Somehow, he realized that he couldn't keep thinking about that, it tore him up and it affected his work - and then the
people he swore to help paid the price.
And what good was he then?
After taking the hot water off the stove, Stefan made himself a cup of hot chocolate before curling up in bed.
He picked up the book that Cole had loaned to him and planned to thumb through it until he passed out.
He knew he should probably give it back to Marie - or hand it over to Elsa, even - but he wasn't ready to let it go
just yet.
It was crap, but he read it regardless.
Hell, maybe Cole knew it would bore him to sleep…
The wrinkled and creased pages he came across made him smile faintly, knowing that there was a bit of Cole left
right when he needed him most.
+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.
This is the second Noirvember request that I wrote, this and "Mean Streets" having been written yesterday!
I already wrote "Chasing Shadows" for Roy's grief story and I've been thinking long and hard about how I'd want
Stefan's to look; I'm a bit disappointed that this didn't have more brooding in it, but I had changed my mind at the
last minute and wrote it as a sort of post-grief/healing process story and just ran with it.
I may or may not rewrite it, but I think this is a good start.
Rain is one of my favorite motifs in the noir genre, so you can expect to come across that in some of my stories in
the future. To me, rain is very thought-provoking; it has so many symbolic connotations to it.
Until next time!
Lin
