Friends I left behind.
By veritygrey
Disclaimer: None of the following TV shows, characters, or backgrounds belong to me in any way, shape or form.
Spoilers: only for Daniel's deaths.
Alan stared out at the Boston skyline and sipped at the whiskey he had poured. He ignored the office door opening and shutting, ignored the woman who sat down in the other chair. For a long moment they were both silent. Eventually the woman spoke.
"Is there something wrong Alan?"
Alan sipped his drink again.
"Why would you think that Shirley?"
"Because you just had a visit from an Air Forced Major, your secretary tells me you want to take a sabbatical, you're raiding Denny's drinks cabinet and it's only eleven o'clock."
She moved the bottle out of Alan's reach and waited for him to answer. Alan finished his drink before speaking.
"Did you know I was in the care of Social Services once? It was only for about six months. My parents were in a car crash. My father died and my mother was to hurt to take care of me. I was ten. They put me in a house with two other boys."
He held out the glass and Shirley relented, filling it halfway.
"One of them was Vince. He was fourteen. I think he's in jail now. The other was Daniel. His parents had died a few years back and it was his, fourth, home, I think. We became friends. It was very similar to the friendship I have with Denny.
Alan contemplated his drink, swirling the whiskey around the glass.
"When I went back to my mother, we wrote to each other, met up occasionally. He studied archaeology and linguistics at college, even got doctorates. He developed this theory, about the pyramids. Not many people agreed with him. His grants dried up. I even offered him my couch, it was that bad."
"What happened?"
Alan drained the glass.
"He was offered a job, translating for the Air Force. Three months later, I got a phone call. He was dead. The next year, he phoned me. He'd been left behind. Some native had helped him. He'd even married one. But his wife had been kidnapped and the Air Force had agreed to help him find her."
Shirley filled Alan's glass, his third and poured her own.
"About two months after that, I got a repeat. His commanding officer called that time. Daniel called me the next week."
Shirley watched Alan halve the whiskey in his glass.
"And now you get a visit."
"Apparently, there was an accident. Daniel, being Daniel rushed in, saved a lot of people. And now he's dead. Again. The third time in six years."
Alan stood, walking out, on to the balcony and leaning against the edge.
"The third time. And all I can think is, when will he call me this time?"
Shirley took the glass from weak fingers and set it down, within reach.
"I can farm out some of your cases. Brad will take the Hollister's, for now, but you'll need to be back in court by next Thursday. I'll put you down on compassionate leave."
"Thank you Shirley."
Alan stared down at the busy street, remembering the past, not even hearing Shirley leave, or the door closing gently behind her.
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