A/N: I don't own Blue Bloods, CBS, or any other known entity. This takes place around the season 3 finale, and it's my first attempt at a Blue Bloods story. I hope you guys enjoy it, and please review.
Beer, Balls, and Broken Hearts
He wasn't saying a word.
Not now. And maybe not ever. He'd already made his statement, and now… now he was done talking. And nothing was going to make him start.
Not even his pain-in-the-ass older brother.
Yet, there Danny was, making his way into the bar before sitting down next to Jamie. Jamie, for his part, didn't even look up from the glass in front of him. A nod to the bartender produced Danny's lager of choice, which Danny raised slightly toward Jamie.
"To fallen comrades," he said sullenly.
Jamie tipped his glass in Danny's direction, but said nothing.
Danny took a drink from his beer.
Jamie stared down at his half-empty beer, swirling it slightly as the bubbles within popped. He was waiting, just waiting, for big brother to say something. Some words of wisdom, a smart ass remark, just something. Anything.
But nothing came.
And Jamie realized that Danny was waiting for him to speak first. Well, that wasn't going to happen. No matter how awkward the moment got, Jamie was going to hold his ground of silence.
So Danny said nothing.
Sometime after Jamie finished the beer before him, which had been his third of the night, and started halfway into his fourth, he sighed, finally growing too annoyed to stand it anymore. "Aren't you going to say something?" he snapped at his big brother.
"Like what?" Danny replied quietly. And, if Jamie had to guess, the quiet tone was hiding something, but the younger brother didn't care much about that right now.
Jamie sighed, somewhat angry. "Like, 'it's okay?' Like, 'you screwed up?' Like anything?"
Danny frowned minutely. "But it's not okay. And you didn't screw up." Danny took a long drink, draining his lager before signaling for another.
"My partner's dead because of me."
Danny tipped his head slightly. "If you say so."
Jamie clenched his fist around his glass as the bartender delivered another drink for Danny. After the man walked away, Jamie growled, "you weren't there, so what the hell do you know?"
Danny snorted. "What I know is that you're not the first cop to lose a partner," he replied. "You're not the first to be there when your partner bleeds out in your arms. It happens. It sucks, and it doesn't make it okay, but it happens."
"You've got a lot of balls, Danny," Jamie muttered darkly, taking a long drink from his beer.
Danny shrugged. "It's been said."
Jamie slammed the glass down on the bar, throwing down a few bills and stalking out, leaving his brother behind. Danny watched him walk out, drinking his beer silently.
Jamie kept walking down the block, anger coursing through his veins. Who the hell was Danny to say that? How could his brother be so cold, so dismissive, so uncaring? Danny was all about brotherhood in arms, but…
Jamie stopped short in the middle of the street.
…but Danny wanted Jamie to react.
Danny knew Jamie would bottle it up, keep it inside like every other Reagan man. Danny knew Jamie wouldn't talk to anyone, so Danny did his best to piss Jamie off to make Jamie act out. And then Jamie would talk about the shooting and his feelings with someone.
Well, it wasn't going to be Danny.
A car horn brought him back into reality, and he quickly turned and headed back to the side of the road he came from. He stood on the sidewalk for a moment before moving, making his way through the streets of the city. After a while, he entered the cemetery, finding the headstone he was searching for.
Joe.
He sighed, kneeling close to his brother's grave marker. For a moment, he stayed silent, rubbing his fingers along the lettering engraved in the stone. Jamie swallowed the lump in his throat, staring at his brother's name. "Why?" he asked, tears welling up behind his eyes.
Nothing.
Not that he'd really expected an answer, but he'd hoped for one. Because it'd be better than the emptiness consuming him now. The pain, the fear, the hatred. The sadness.
The guilt.
Why Vinny? Why did he have to die? Why now? Why not Jamie?
"Why?"
The breeze kicked up, but it wasn't enough that Jamie couldn't hear a person walk up behind him. Jamie swallowed again, knowing who it was without turning around. So again, he asked the question, this time directing it more to the newcomer than to the stone before him.
But unlike the other times, he couldn't keep his voice from betraying the hidden tears. "Why?"
Danny inhaled deeply, squatting down slightly behind his youngest brother. "I wish I had a good answer for that, kid," he replied gently.
Jamie shook his head, scrubbing his hand over his face in an attempt to keep himself from crying in front of Danny. Mostly because there was a significant enough piece of him that was still pissed at his older brother for earlier at the bar, though the rest of him knew Danny was trying to help in his own twisted, brotherly way.
Annoying way.
Danny sighed softly, drawing Jamie's thoughts back to the moment at hand. "I'm sorry, kid," he said quietly.
Jamie scoffed lightly. "That could cover a myriad of things," he replied.
Danny shrugged. "Yeah."
Jamie swallowed hard, pinching his nostrils closed for a moment. He sniffled, closing his eyes.
The wind blew again, rustling the leaves in the trees, but Jamie still heard Danny say, "I mean it, though."
"I know you do," Jamie whispered, slowly realizing he was losing his hold on his emotions. He bit his lip hard, keeping his eyes closed.
"Didn't deserve this," Danny said softly.
Jamie opened his eyes as he frowned, not sure exactly who Danny was talking about- their brother or Vinny.
Danny sighed, letting the conversation drop for the moment.
Jamie turned his focus from the stone etched with his brother's name to the grass beneath his knees. He closed his eyes again, fighting to keep his tears at bay. His hands silently clenched into fists against his sides, gripping onto the blades below. He sniffled again, trying to keep it all back.
"It's okay, kid," Danny said after a moment. "Let it out."
And at Danny's words, the floodgates opened. Jamie kept his head down, tears flowing freely, sobbing quietly. Danny moved forward, putting his arm around his younger brother's shoulders. Jamie didn't move, didn't even seem to realize what was going on. He was lost in the current of memories that had flooded forward with Danny's previous statement.
"Didn't deserve this."
And therein laid the rub.
His partner, Vinny. His friend. His comrade. Vinny died in his own neighborhood, in Jamie's arms. Past and present meshing together with deadly results. Vinny was a great guy, trying to do the right thing, and he paid the ultimate price.
Same with Joe.
Joe, wanting to live up to the Reagan legacy of protecting New York City. Joe, wanting to end the Blue Templar's reign. Joe, murdered at the hands of the same people he worked with every day. Joe…
Danny pulled Jamie closer as the younger brother cried harder, wishing this would all go away. That he would wake up, as a Harvard educated lawyer working for the District Attorney with Erin, while Joe and Danny served out the Reagan legacy from the NYPD side of things. He wished that none of this had ever happened.
All that wishing was for naught, though.
"Why?" Jamie choked out with a sob.
Danny said nothing, instead wrapping his other arm around his brother and turning Jamie in towards his chest. A gesture that carried more weight than any answer Danny could have come up with.
Because there was no answer to that question that could satisfy anyone. All they could do was hold onto each other and hope they made it through to the other side of things.
"Could've been me," Jamie said through his tears.
"It wasn't," Danny replied softly.
"Should've been me."
Danny closed his eyes.
Jamie sniffled. "I wanted the extra tour. I got Vinny to come with me. I wanted to respond to the call. I got shot first."
"I know."
"It's not fair."
Danny swallowed thickly. "I know," he repeated.
Jamie wrapped his arms around himself, still crying.
"It's never going to be fair," Danny said softly. "Nothing's gonna make this fair. Wish like hell it'd never happened. And, I know it'll never be okay, what happened. But you'll be okay."
Jamie swallowed. "How can I?" he asked mournfully. "How can I be okay with this? He's dead. He died because of me. I couldn't protect him. I couldn't save him. I let him bleed out in my arms."
"Kid, look at me."
Jamie looked up at Danny finally, seeing the pained expression on his older brother's face.
"You did absolutely everything you could," he said. "You're a cop trained as a lawyer whose partner was shot on the street, not a doctor in a hospital. You did the best you could. You, yourself, were shot in the chest."
"Should've killed me."
Danny nodded toward the side. "Then you'd be somewhere over there."
Jamie scrubbed the tears off his face, groaning, "you're not funny."
"Not trying to be," Danny replied. "And, for the record, as sad and pissed as I am that it was your partner, I am glad it wasn't you. I can't lose another brother, kid."
"Me neither."
Danny gave his younger brother a squeeze.
Jamie took a deep breath, the final tears falling down his face. He shook his head as he sniffled, wiping his hand across his cheeks.
Danny rubbed Jamie on the back silently.
Jamie swallowed. "I'm still pissed at you, you know," he muttered.
Danny snorted slightly with a smile. "Yeah, kid," he replied, letting go of his brother. "I know."
Jamie shook his head again, shoving Danny lightly. "Ass."
Danny shrugged, smirking as he remarked, for the second time that night, "it's been said."
Jamie scoffed. "I'm sure worse has been said."
Danny chuckled, inching away from Jamie as the younger man sat up straighter.
Jamie smiled faintly. "Thanks, man," he said softly.
Danny nodded. "Anytime."
The End