We had been up almost all night. My boyfriend Sonny Carisi and I, sitting together first in the living room where we'd had pizza for dinner and watching rounds of bad reality television and half an episode of Frontline before we headed to bed. The change of scenery did not help our prospects much as neither of us felt like sleeping. It had been this way for the past few days as we prepared ourselves after the death of one of us squad members and the impending funeral.
I don't know what time I actually fell asleep, but it was sometime after last call at the bar on the corner and before dawn. The last thing that I could remember before finally letting myself relax enough to drift off, was the melancholy song of a stumbling drunk outside on the sidewalk. At that point I'd still had a hand on Sonny's arm that was draped unceremoniously over my middle as he lay curled around me. I knew he wouldn't be sleeping that night, and I'd held out as long as I could in solidarity, but eventually my physical and emotional exhaustion overtook me and I finally slept.
The smell of coffee was what woke me and I opened my eyes to face the steaming cup on my nightstand. Blue predawn light that was brimming with hints of pink from the rising sun was already filling the room. I rolled onto my back and glanced at my watch before letting out a sigh and small curse at the ceiling. "Damn," I muttered almost under my breath. The day was dawning beautiful, clear skies and bright sunshine were coming and I found myself wishing for rain. Or dark clouds that hung heavy over our heads. Or even fog. Anything but the lovely weather we were in for. It was all wrong for what was going to be a somber day.
It's the day of the funeral, a day that even a week ago we had never imagined we'd be living. The tragedy of Sergeant Dodds' death had sent the entire squad reeling from shock and today was the last stroke of the pen to his story. Sonny was going to be one of his pall bearer's, carrying his friend on the final journey and with all the respect and honor due to a fellow officer who died in the line of duty. Before now I hadn't fully understood the immensity of it, how much truth there was behind the bravado put off by members of the force. They were a brotherhood, a family, a thin blue line against the chaos of the world, and today they were burying one of their own.
In the days following the shooting, Sonny had seemed to retreat into himself when he came home from work after that first awful morning when Dodds passed. Through the week when numbness had taken over and now to today when we would have to find a way to hold up not only ourselves, but offer support to the family, slowly he let me in beyond the hurt and gave voice to the worries that reside in the back of the mind of all officers. I had felt it in the way we said goodbye to each other every morning as we went out to the door to our jobs. It was the reason that I always told him 'be safe' as I watched him leave the apartment before I had to. There was always the possibility that something could happen and he could be killed, it was what kept us grounded in the present and cautious about a future.
I reached out to look for Sonny, even though I was sure he wouldn't still be in bed. After all, who else would have made the coffee, and I debated with myself whether or not I should ask him if he had gotten any sleep at all. A small ache behind my eyes reminds me of the lack of sleep I'd gotten in the previous long night and I was thankful for the coffee that was waiting for me. I pushed myself up to sit back and lean against the headboard, scooping up the cup of light brown caffeine and taking a long sip that helped ease the tension in my head.
From my vantage point in the bedroom, I could hear the low, white noise of the shower running in the hallway bathroom and I wondered how long he'd been in coffee brought me into the waking world while I watched the sun come fully up over the Manhattan skyline, and I let my mind wander so much that I was surprised when he came shuffling into the room. He had a towel wrapped around himself, settled low on his hips and held with one hand, just barely there enough to keep his dignity in front of the third floor apartment windows. It still caught me a little off guard how comfortable he was in my home. In his other hand he carried the garment bag that held his Class A dress blue uniform that had been hanging on the coat hooks in the living room where I had ignored it, but now that it had come into our intimate space it reminded me of what was coming.
"Morning, Sonny," I said and he turned towards me, his face partially lit by that ever-present smile, but the shadows of grief and sorrow still pulled at the corners of his bright blue eyes. The juxtaposition of it cut at me and I wanted to pull him back into bed and sink under the blankets where we could hide from the rest of the world.
"I didn't want to wake you up," he said, his voice cracked a bit already and he cleared his throat to try and cover it.
"You didn't. It was the coffee that got me up," I said with a small smile that felt huge from the effort that it took. "What time do you have to leave?" I asked, fishing for anything to break the tension hanging in the air.
"Seven," he replied and didn't bother to follow it up with anything else. He hung the garment bag and unzipped it to reveal the uniform, pressed dark blue fabric and polished hardware that glimmered when the sunlight caught it. I've never seen him wear it before, there's never been occasion for him to don the dress blues, and it had been a fool's hope to think that I would never see it on him.
He sat down at the foot of the bed and let his gaze go into that thousand-yard-stare that I knew so well from when he was sorting through something from work. Sometimes it caught him on long drives, or at night when we were unwinding from the day. His hands were absently fidgeting while he stared off, another habit I'd come to know.
"Sonny," I wanted to reassure him of something, anything, but the rest of my words fell short and he just sat there, nodding and letting the silence weigh us down.
"You know, I been thinkin'," he said. "People been sayin' it every day that this just isn't fair. It was Dodds' last day, he'd just gotten engaged, and then he has to go and get himself killed. It just doesn't make sense. I keep thinkin' about his fiance, what she must be goin' through right now. I don't know if I could put someone through somethin' like this."
"What do you mean?" I say, though I have wondered if these thoughts have been weighing more heavily on his mind these days.
"I mean," he hesitated letting his hands finally rest from their fidgeting. "I don't know if it's a good idea to be with anyone. To put anyone through this."
"Do you want to break up?" I ask, knowing that sometimes it helps to be blunt. He doesn't answer right away, but rather takes his time finding the right words. The hesitation twisted something inside my stomach and my grip on the coffee cup tightened.
"No," he said. "I know you keep sayin' you're okay with everything that comes with this job, but I don't know if I can take thinkin' this could be you someday. The risks of the job and all, I just can't stop hatin' puttin' you in that spot."
"I wouldn't be here if I hadn't already considered all that," I said, my voice trying to sound stronger than I felt. "I know you worry about it, but I had plenty of chances a long time ago to leave if I couldn't handle it. I'm not going anywhere."
He turned more towards me then, screwing up that space between his eyebrows and running a hand through his combed hair, almost screwing up the swept back, clean style that he'd perfected in his morning routine. I hated seeing him twisted in the conflicting emotions of wanting to protect someone from potential distress and the life that we both wanted to live.
"What if we have kids?" he asked. "And what if one day I don't come home like this? My pops had that heart attack and it almost crushed us, I can't even imagine how it would be for kids to lose their father in the line of duty."
"Hey," I said and set down the empty coffee cup before I reached out to take one of his hands in my own and bring him back to our present instead of the awful possible future that he was imagining. "Today is going to be hard for everyone. But it doesn't mean that it's making me rethink being with you. And besides, knowing you, you'll die old and stubborn. Not young like this."
He smiled just enough at my jest and I felt his hand relax a little in mine. I pulled him towards me and he moved down the bed and into my open arms again. I wrapped my arms around him and took in as much of him as I could, from the warmth of his skin on mine to the smell of shampoo and fresh soap coming off him. His heartbeat was so strong where our chests met and I felt the words coming up and out before I could stop them.
"You don't see it from my side," I said. "You all have each other on the force, but for the rest of us, we're part of the family, too. If something happens, I'll never have to face it alone. Your job is bigger than just you and just us, there's people standing with us and they'll be there to help us if we ever need it. Just like you're there today for Dodds and his family, people will be there for me and our family if that ever happens. It's why I'm not afraid and never will be."
He responded to my words by shifting us even closer together and I think I feel a slight tremble in his limbs, maybe from the grief, but he doesn't say exactly why. We stayed locked in the embrace, even after I drag him down into bed again where we remind each other how alive we both still are. When the time came for him to leave, I held him up at the door one last time and put a hand over his heart before telling him to be safe. The words soothed some of the fears in my heart and I hoped that it did the same for him.