I had intended this to be a one-shot, from Linden's POV only, but Holder nagged at my brain. While chiefly foregoing the lovable Holderisms, here is Holder's POV. Enjoy!


Jose needed to read first; that cat was always skirting the edges. Let him find his nerves on an end of a cigarette, Holder reasoned. Jose wasn't going to get out of fessing up this time.

A specter, a chimera with a slash of blue at her neck; she stood, toes pointed to each other, the illusive smile spreading, hands jammed in her oversized jacket. "Oh snap! One nine-hundred Linden. Dial and you shall receive."

Linden had fallen on her sword, recusing him of any involvement. She had slid Reddick's pack to her right and Holder knew that she would never touch cigarettes again. Defeated, she pulled on her jacket, back to the two way mirror. His chest ached and he bounced his leg to keep the tears back when his partner turned and stepped in front of him…silently apologizing…broken. Then she left. Linden was good at running away. Sayonara, Ginger.

He had tried to be the good man, the textbook fiancé that Caroline deserved but never was privy to as Stephen wrestled with nonexistence. Ignoring the incessant, silent nagging, the recovering junkie took a ferry to the island and parked in front of the empty house; as vacant as his soul that wanted to scream in her face for ever doubting his loyalty. As the indifferent weeks passed, every flash of red hair, Holder felt his heart stutter. Anger morphed into the kind of implicit craving that only an addict could appreciate.

"Why'd you come back?" It wasn't that he didn't want to see her; Holder had only known more joy on the day Kalia was born. Linden had conquered her own demons, as he did. At her hesitation, Holder saw her confront their past. Once the deluge started, Linden called him home. No, she called them home; together, home. He found it hard to swallow, let alone speak, as the tears crowded the corners of her eyes. It made sense…they made sense.

"I'm sorry." Drowning in regret, her voice cracked and Holder felt his chest ache again, his lungs struggling to pull in the air. Mind racing as Linden continued, her best friend came up with the only solution that he could, to stay where she belonged.

Holder felt his heart stitch itself back together when he held his baby girl for the first time. Caroline knew by then and did her best to forgive him. His little goddess, with ten perfect toes and ten long fingers, became his center of gravity. The squalling, then crawling, toddling and skipping princess gave Holder devotion, faith.

Twelve previously mindless steps became his tow rope; Kalia grow up with a junkie for a daddy. His first tattoo celebrated his personal goddess. The second, on the opposite wrist, wings around a heart and a reminder of faith in himself and the past. Reborn into life, Holder embraced his job at the community center that Caroline had suggested. A new apartment, closer for visitations and with a second bedroom, Holder felt relieved the day that Caroline told him that she had found someone new; like he let go of a breath that he didn't know that he had been holding.

Linden faltered at his offer and Holder knew she had already bolted in her mind. But, god, how he tried, like an addict begging for a fix. "It ain't ghosts, Linden. It ain't the dead." Still, his partner waned at the precipice of permanence. Stephen offered the one regret he had been denied when she disappeared before, knowing that nothing would stop her departure. She smelled good. She fit into his arms. "Bye." Maybe if he watched her drive away this time, the ache wouldn't take up constant residence.

Holder lamely nodded as Jose and the others rambled through their readings, his thoughts far away, reaching out over the city. In his mind's eye, he was slouched in the seat next to Linden, passing the police station, each offering a single finger salute. Her scent lingered on the lapel of his jacket and Holder inhaled deeply, as if it were the last hit of his life.

And then she was there; damn Linden with the blue scarf that was his beacon. Holder knew if he looked away, she would be vanish, so he anchored himself to those pale blue eyes…that lop-sided smile. That smile? That was for him.

Hook, line, and sinker he drifted towards his fix.


Author's footnote: I'm not sure I can do justice to continuing the story. The ending was perfect to me, just like their flawed characters. But who knows what the future will hold...