A/N: All right guys sorry for the longer than normal wait for this chapter. This one proved to be a bit more challenging both on the research and actual writing side of things. I hope this comes across like I imagined it in my head. Please let me know what you think.
As usual, thank you to everyone who has left such amazing reviews and words of encouragement. You guys give me the motivation to keep knocking this story out so I can't thank you enough.
Chapter 11 is in the very early stages of a first draft, I'm aiming to have it completed and posted by the end of next week, but we'll see how it goes. I'm thinking this fic only has another chapter or two left so we're in the home stretch folks and then the real fun begins. *insert evil laugh* ;) I've been working on a very long, very in-depth Golly fic for some time (started before this one) that is already 30+ chapters so that's going to be a long one, I hope you guys stick around and are prepared for it. :)
Ok enough of my rambling. Happy reading folks and HAPPY NEW YEAR! Be safe!
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The next morning Gail awoke to the delicious smell of bacon sizzling away in the kitchen. Her head popped up and she immediately regretted it when her skull pounded at the sudden movement. Her mouth was dry and her brain felt as if it were clamped in a vice grip. She knew she had a hangover, but was having trouble putting together the pieces from the previous evening. She rolled over, idly wondering why she was tangled in a blanket on Holly's couch.
'Am I wearing Holly's clothes too?' she thought after pulling back the blanket and looking down at the unfamiliar checkered pajama pants and hoodie.
Dropping her head back onto the cushion, she draped her arm over her face to hide her eyes in the crook of her elbow from the sun filtering in through the blinds. She sighed heavily at the sound of approaching footsteps thudding softly on the hardwood floor.
"Gail," Holly's familiar voice sounded from Peck's left and she felt a gentle hand on her arm. "Dov's going to be here soon to pick you up; why don't you come eat something first?"
Gail's body stiffened as her arm retracted from her eyes at lightning speed when it suddenly clicked and she realized what today was.
'Shit…the funeral…'
"Why is Dov coming to get me? I thought you were coming…" Peck asked her voice thick with sleep as she looked to Holly sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch. The fear and anxiety she felt must've shown in her eyes because Holly's hand was back on her forearm an instant later.
"I am, he's just coming to take you home so you can get ready. Then I'll come pick you up before the service and we'll go together, ok?" the brunette asked and was relieved when she felt Gail relax a bit. "Come on, eat some breakfast before you go it'll help with the hangover," she said and rose to her feet heading for the kitchen.
"Ugh," Gail groaned sitting up again, this time more slowly with slightly better results. She kept a snail's pace as she shuffled around the dining room table and took a seat at the breakfast bar. "Please tell me there's coffee…" she said, propping her elbow on the counter and resting her chin in the palm of her hand as Holly set a plate of pancakes and bacon down in front of her followed by a steaming cup of coffee. "Have I ever told you that you're my favorite person?"
The brunette leaned back against the sink cradling her own mug in her hands, a small chuckle sounding in throat. "Is that right?" she asked cocking a brow as Gail wasted no time digging into the stack of hotcakes and stuffing her mouth full. Peck looked up at her and nodded her head vehemently.
"These are so good," Gail said pointing to the plate with her fork, her words slightly muffled around the mouth full of food, but Holly was still able to decipher the comment.
Holly wanted so badly to address the situation from the night before and she probably would have if Jerry's funeral wasn't looming ahead of them in a few short hours. There was only so much Gail could take and she didn't want to overload her knowing the service alone would surely push her to the limit. Today was going to be emotionally draining as it was without Holly piling on and so she filed it away for a better time.
"I didn't get to thank you for lunch yesterday," Holly said simply before taking a sip of coffee and the blonde paused momentarily in her eating.
"It was a total gamble, I had no clue what you'd like so I went with the healthiest things on the menu…basically everything I wouldn't eat," Peck said and stuck another forkful of pancakes in her mouth as Holly chuckled.
"Well I was starving and it hit the spot so thank you for that," the brunette said with a slight salute with her cup and then turned to rinse it in the sink.
"Aren't you eating?" Gail asked, looking for another plate on the counter beside her, but found nothing.
"Yeah I already did, I had a bowl of cereal while I was making those," Holly called over her shoulder while loading the dish washer.
"Wait let me get this straight; you had crunchy gross cardboard cereal pieces floating in milk when you could've had this fluffy goodness drenched in syrup? What's wrong with you?" Peck asked rhetorically scrunching her face and Holly chuckled, throwing the dishtowel at her.
"Not everyone can eat like you do and keep a body like that," Holly nodded towards Gail and turned back to the sink before her cheeks flushed red, her comment slipping out before she could stop it.
They fell into an easy silence while the brunette washed the remaining pans. Peck's gaze was firmly on Holly's back in complete awe of how the doc could make such a simple task seem graceful. Gail had just finished her last bite when a horn honked out at the curb drawing Holly's attention up to the window.
"I think Dov's here," she said, peering out as Gail came around the island to put her plate in the sink before moving to stand on her tip toes to have a look.
"That would be him," Peck answered, her voice now void of the playful tone it held just moments ago, the sobering reality setting in. She shuffled into the hall and pulled on her boots, wincing slightly when her socks became damp from last night's trek through the rain.
"Before I forget," Holly said behind her and when Gail turned the brunette was holding out a plastic shopping bag which she took skeptically and peered inside. "It's your clothes from last night, all clean and dry."
Gail lifted her head and locked gazes with Holly, feeling a flood of things she wanted to say, but when she opened her mouth nothing came out. Instead she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the brunette's waist pulling her into a crushing hug. It took Holly's brain a moment to catch up before she registered the embrace and brought her hands up to Peck's back, holding her tight. Behind them the horn sounded once again and Holly dropped her arms so Gail could grab her jacket and yank the front door open.
"Keep your panties on Epstein, I'm coming," Peck shouted as she stepped out onto the porch and turned back to face the doc. "I'll see you in a bit?" she asked, her eyes now swimming with the same fear they held this morning and a touch of something else the brunette couldn't quite place.
Holly nodded and gave her a reassuring smile, "absolutely."
Peck stood there for a moment as if she were about to say something else, but then abruptly turned and headed down to the curb, throwing the passenger door open and climbing in beside Dov.
"Hey," Epstein said gently as he backed out of the parking space, sensing Gail wasn't in the mood for small talk. His hunch was quickly confirmed when she muttered a low greeting before leaning her head back against the headrest and closing her eyes. Though he had some questions about her choice of refuge over the past few days he understood her need for silence and turned his attention to the road.
It didn't take long for them to arrive back at Casa Peckstein and after parking, the pair climbed the stairs. Quickly grabbing the mail from the box, Dov pushed the door open and stepped aside so Gail could enter the apartment, the familiar musty scent of dust and stale beer making her instantly miss Holly's place. Chris rose from his seat at the kitchen table at the sound of the door opening and turned to welcome his friend home only to catch a glimpse of her back as she headed down the hall and disappeared behind the closed door of her room.
"Welcome home Gail…" he said lowly in a hurt tone before turning to Dov who was setting Peck's bag beside the door and relocking the deadbolt. "How is she?"
"Quiet…very quiet," Epstein said hanging his coat beside the door. "Normally that wouldn't be a bad thing, but…" he trailed off grimly, taking a seat beside Chris at the table.
The pair ate while Gail showered, all three officers rushing to get ready in time. Each of them had gone to their respective rooms to get dressed and Dov had just finished buttoning his shirt when the doorbell echoed throughout the small space.
"Hey Hol," he said pulling the door open and stepping aside to let her enter. He'd clearly been in mid-battle with his tie when she arrived; one side of his collar was standing straight up while the other was tucked underneath. Dov crossed and looped the tie over itself before frowning deeply at the end result knowing it wasn't right.
"Need a hand?" she asked pushing the door shut and pocketing her keys.
"Please," he sighed dejectedly and she stepped in front of him. Dov lifted his chin to give her more room as she went straight to work undoing everything he'd already struggled to accomplish. In what seemed like seconds Holly was synching a perfect Windsor knot towards his chin and laying his collar flat. Epstein looked at her, mouth agape. "How'd you do that?"
"Lots of practice," she shrugged, giving him a playful pat on the shoulder. "I used to tie my dad's every morning. The man could replace a heart valve with his eyes closed and one hand tied behind his back, but couldn't tie a decent knot to save his life; my mother always threatened to buy him clip-on's instead," she said with a smirk at the memory before her expression turned more serious. "Where's Gail?"
Dov pointed over her shoulder towards the closed door on the right, his expression dropping.
"It hasn't been a good day," he said sadly by way of explanation and the doc nodded.
"I can't imagine it would be…" she trailed off before heading down the hall and knocking gently.
"If you value your balls you'll go away!" came a shout from the other side causing Holly to smirk as she gently pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Gail was standing in front of her open closet door in most of her uniform staring at the last remaining article, the jacket, hanging from the top of the door on a clothes hanger. Though Peck's back was to her, Holly could see she was deep in thought, her fingers absently playing with one of the department's shield embossed buttons on the cuff. Her shoulders were slumped beneath her white dress shirt making Holly hesitate for a moment and contemplate how to proceed.
"Luckily I don't have balls so I'll take my chances," Holly said causing Gail to spin around from the closet, visibly relieved when she saw the brunette. "I would like kids at some point though so watch the ovaries."
They stood quietly for a moment as the tension eased ever so slightly.
Stepping closer, Holly reached out and ran her hands slowly up and down the officer's arms. "How ya doing?" she asked softly.
"Terrible," Peck answered shortly, her gaze dropping to the floor.
"Care to elaborate?"
"Oh I don't know, how the hell would you be if you were about to go to the funeral of the man who saved your life?" Gail snapped back, instantly feeling bad for the knee-jerk reaction. She ran a hand through her hair, sighing heavily before sitting on the edge of the bed and dropping her face into the palm of her hands. "I'm sorry…"
Holly had been expecting the blonde to lash out and truth be told she was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. She understood the stress and guilt Gail was feeling, knew the sharp words weren't a personal attack and didn't take them as such; just misguided anger is all.
She took a seat beside Peck and gently rubbed the small of her back. "It's ok…" she began to say, but Gail's head quickly popped up halting her train of thought.
"No it's not, Hol, you didn't deserve it. You've stuck by me through all of this and you've been so patient with me, why is that?" Gail asked, her eyes searching the doc's chocolate browns.
Holly could see that Peck sincerely didn't understand why she hadn't walked away from her and the thought caused a pang of sadness. Someone must've really done a number on Gail's heart to make her question why people didn't wash their hands of her at the first hint of difficulty; it didn't necessarily have to have been a lover, it could be Gail's mother who she had yet to mention or even her friends. The thought of just giving up on someone boggled her mind.
"You've been through a lot, you deserve to be cut some slack," Holly shrugged and continued rubbing small circles on her back. "Talk to me, what's going on?"
"I don't know if I can go today," Gail said, her voice sounding so small. "I know I told Traci I would, but I don't know if I can handle feeling like a spectacle…getting all the 'that's her' looks, being asked a million times how I'm doing…"
Holly remained silent to give Gail the time and opportunity to process how she was feeling and to continue when she was ready, pushing her would only cause Peck to get more flustered and clam up.
"I've been standing in front of that coat for the last 15 minutes debating what to do…do I suck it up and go? Or do I do what I really want and climb back in bed and stay there until the day is over?" Gail asked, turning her watery gaze toward the doc's. "What do I do, Hol?"
The brunette felt a lump rise in her throat at the lost look in Gail's eyes and wished she had the power to make it go away.
"Hun, you and I both know I can't make that call," Holly said sadly. "What does your heart tell you?"
Gail chuckled sadly.
"Therein lays the problem. What I want to do and what I need to do are polar opposites," the blonde said absently picking at her comforter in quiet contemplation before she stopped and looked at Holly, squaring her shoulders, her decision clearly made. "Let's go, I need to be there for Traci, I need to honor Jerry for what he did for me and for however many other girls would've come after me if he hadn't."
"Ok," Holly replied with a nod, feeling a sense of pride for the woman beside her. "I'll be right there with you, we'll make it through together, ok?" she asked, her hand coming around to rest on Gail's knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Whatever you need."
The blonde turned to look at her, her palm gently settling over the doc's and squeezing back with unspoken gratitude. Holly didn't need to hear the words though; she could see it in the crystal blue eyes that gazed back at her.
Rising from the bed, Holly reached down and gently tugged her to her feet, leading her to the closet. She slipped the jacket from its hanger and helped Peck shrug into it before running her hands over the shoulders to smooth out the fabric.
"Gotta love a woman in uniform," the doc commented with her lop-sided smirk as her eyes ran the length of Gail's body, taking in the sharp threads and trying to keep the blush from rising to her cheeks.
"Yeah too bad the uniform we look the best in is the one none of us want to wear," Gail replied sadly, grabbing her hat and white gloves from the top of her dresser and taking a deep breath. Holly nodded with understanding as they headed back into the living room where Chris and Dov were waiting for them.
"Hi Holly," Diaz said with a small wave and stiff smile as his eyes shifted to Gail, a wave of concern washing over him.
"Chris," the doc nodded with a warm smile. "I guess we'll follow you guys?" she asked, looking to Gail who nodded, wanting to ride with her instead of piling in with the boys.
They filed out of the apartment, Epstein holding the door for the girls and then followed Chris down the front walkway to the cars.
"Damn, I want a truck like that," Diaz said, glancing in the river view mirror at Holly's shiny black Range Rover following behind them before frowning at the older Jeep they were currently riding in. Sure his truck was still in good shape, but seeing the beautiful machine behind them made him lust for something newer.
"You can have one, you just have to become a doctor first," Dov replied smugly, buffing the bill of his hat with his sleeve.
Behind them, Gail and Holly were driving in silence.
Gail stared out the window turning her badge over in the palm of her hand, her thumb stroking absently along the black elastic band stretched across the medal shield. She knew funerals were a part of the job when she signed up, but she didn't think she'd be attending one so soon in her career. Sure they told you what to expect from a departmental service, but it was different when the officer that was being laid to rest died saving your life. They didn't teach you how to deal with that; there hadn't been a chapter in the manual covering the vast emotions that could course through you in a spit second or how to face your friends when you felt responsible for the loss they shared. The few pages on dealing with grief didn't cover any of that.
"You've gone quiet on me," Holly commented softly, glancing over at her passenger who reluctantly tore her gaze from the passing streets outside the window. She could see Peck's brain was running a hundred miles an hour and could feel the tension was back and rolling off her in waves.
"Sorry I'm just kind of stuck in my own head…" Gail replied, dropping her gaze thoughtfully to her badge once again before clipping it to the breast pocket of her jacket. Holly reached over and patted Gail on the forearm, wishing the blonde would open up to her already.
As they neared their destination they started seeing squad cars from other divisions who had come to pay their respects. Up a head at the entrance to the cemetery there was a cruiser with its flashers on, stopping all cars as they made their way to the gates. They watched as a short female officer approached Diaz's truck; the officer exchanged a few words with the boys before waving them through. Holly pulled up next, rolling down her window.
"Good morning ma'am, can I get your name and the division you're with?" the officer asked cheerfully making Gail wonder how much coffee this woman had consumed already. Gail leaned forward and looked at the name tag on her jacket, Officer Price from 27th Division.
"Holly Stewart, Forensics Lab," Holly replied as Price jotted down the information in her notepad before she looked past the brunette to the passenger seat, making eye contact with Gail.
"And you officer? Name and division," Price asked politely with a smile.
"Gail Peck, 15," the blonde replied and noticed Price's smile falter briefly. Gail's stomach clenched and she stiffened in her seat, the sinking suspicion that this woman knew who she was and what had happened to her.
"Thank you ladies, have a good day," the bubbly officer said with toothy smile and stepped back towards her cruiser to wait for the next arrival.
"What was that all about?" Holly asked, catching up to Diaz.
"It's a checkpoint to keep the media out," Peck replied staring out the window. "All outside divisions have to let us know if they'll be attending so that they're on the list. Anyone can line up for the precession on through the streets, but the actual service is private."
Holly nodded and they fell back into silence as they followed the boys through the winding road of the cemetery.
They pulled to a stop beside Chris' Jeep and as Holly shut off the engine she chanced a look at Gail who'd gone quiet beside her once again. She reached across the center counsel, slipping her hand under Peck's gloved palm resting stiffly on her knee and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Gail's gaze slowly turned to face the brunette, her blue eyes already laced with anxiety.
"Ready?" Holly asked, knowing it was a stupid question before she even asked it.
"No," Gail replied, her voice sounding so small it came out in nearly a whisper that Holly would've missed had she not seen Peck's lips move. She took a deep breath when the brunette rubbed the top of her hand with her thumb and mentally tried to psych herself up as she pushed the passenger door open and stepped out of the car.
The two women met at the front bumper, their hands coming back together thoughtlessly as if there was a magnetic pull housed within their palms and walked hand in hand a few paces behind Diaz and Epstein across the thick green grass towards the burial site where a large congregation of mourners and fellow officers had already assembled to await the precession's arrival. Normally such a display would've made Gail uncomfortable and she knew she was going to be asked a hundred questions later, but at the moment she didn't care; she needed Holly's warmth and comfort if she was going to get through this in one piece.
As they walked up to the grave site Gail couldn't help, but feel like all eyes were on her. She kept her gaze cast down to the ground as they approached, already feeling self-conscious. At one time, commanding such attention would've been a boost to her ego, but not anymore and certainly not today. It wasn't like she could just blend in with the rest of the uniforms walking around, the row of stitches across her forehead and other cuts marring her face making that tactic impossible to pull off. With a final squeeze to Holly's hand Gail did what she felt was best and took the empty chair beside Traci to pull the focus from herself and back where it belonged.
Feeling someone touch her hand, Traci looked up and smiled sadly at the blonde, giving her hand a gentle squeeze back before pulling her in for an impromptu hug.
"I'm so glad you're here," Nash whispered in her friend's ear with a sniffle as the blonde gripped her tighter, something Traci was not accustomed to from Peck.
"How are you feeling?" Gail asked, pulling back, but still holding onto Nash's forearms.
"Numb…but ask me again in 5 minutes," Traci replied with a sad smile, her eyes doing nothing to hide the sleepless night she'd had the night before.
Gail nodded her head and rubbed Nash's back, dropping her gaze to the beautifully manicured lawn at her feet starting to feel cagey as more and more officers arrived and began milling about. She felt her chest tighten and though they were outdoors felt as if the walls were slowly closing in around her. If the circumstances had been different she would've excused herself and slowly slipped into the background before ducking out of the service all together, but she knew she couldn't do that to Traci. Peck clamped her eyes shut, trying to head off the panic attack by taking a few deep calming breathes. She knew she could do this, she just had to be tough; there'd be plenty of time to fall apart later.
Gail glanced over her shoulder, breathing a bit easier when her eyes locked with Holly's deep browns and the doc gave her a small smile from the row behind them.
"Are you smiling at me?" Dov asked with a large grin of his own as he and Chris slid into the chairs behind her and Nash, Dov's body momentarily eclipsing Gail's eye line to Holly as he passed. His comment made Gail realize she must've been smiling back at the brunette unbeknownst to her. Diaz leaned down to tenderly rub Traci's shoulders and dropped a quick kiss to the top of her head before he sat beside his roommate.
"You wish," the blonde scoffed with her patented eye roll and turned back around just in time to see Andy rushing towards them.
"Hey guys, Traci I'm so sorry I'm late," Andy apologized giving Nash a big hug before quickly stepping over to Gail and wrapping her in a tight hug. The blonde floundered for a moment, surprised by the sudden embrace.
"Still not how I communicate McNally," Gail said dryly, patting her awkwardly on the back.
"Right, sorry," the brunette said quickly dropping her arms. "How are you?"
'That's one,' Peck thought to herself, wondering how many times she would be asked that very question before losing count.
She was just about to respond when in the distance the sound of bagpipes floated through the air causing a hush to fall over the group of mourners. People quickly took their seats and fell into line formations around them. Peck instantly felt her stomach drop when Traci's eyes welled with tears as the telltale sound of the approaching precession grew louder.
They turned their attention towards the main drive leading to the entrance and quickly rose to their feet when the first of six motorcycle units passed through the front gates followed by a small barrage of freshly washed cruisers with their pursuit lights flashing overhead. It was such an odd sight to see the squad cars crawling along at a snail's pace when normally they were flying by with the sirens wailing. There was something almost eerie about it.
Next in line was the color guard proudly holding the Canadian, Providence of Ontario, and department flags high as they walked in a straight line formation, their steps falling in perfect unison with one another.
Behind the color guard was the department marching back decked out in their dress uniform complete with plaid kilts and white knee-high socks. The sun reflected brightly off the polished brass of their instruments as the bag pipes and snare drum sounded out across the open area.
Next in line was an older officer the group recognized right away as academy instructor John Sullivan or Sully as he was commonly known as. He limped down the pavement holding Jerry's uniform hat firmly in both hands at chest level, his white gloves a stark contrast against the shiny black brim of the cap. His expression was a mask of careful composure and if it hadn't been for the occasional blinking of his eyes you might have thought he was made of stone.
A few steps behind him were two officers they weren't familiar with, both of which were of a higher rank with their metals and commendations displayed across their chests leaving Gail to surmise that they were the Master's of Ceremony. Beside the two white shirts was the department Chaplin dressed in full robe with a bible clutched in his arms.
Behind the trio, a pristine black rolled down the driveway flanked by 6 pallbearers- Oliver, Sam, and Luke on one side and 3 officers from 27th Division on the other- with Frank bringing up the rear.
Solemnly Best stepped up to the back of the herse when it pulled to a stop in front of the group bringing the entire sea of officers to attention the instant the rear hatch of the car was opened, their knifed right hands rising to the bill of their hats in salute. They held the pose as Sam, Luke, and Oliver turned sharply to face the three officers from 27 on either side of the door and gripped the handles as the staff sergeant slowly pulled the casket from the car. Once the back hatch was closed the group marched forward, their bodies moving in perfect sync as they met Sully at the front of the herse and together the group carried their fallen friend to the grave site.
Walking across the grass, the officers gently set the Canadian flag draped casket on a shroud of beautiful flowers and stood at attention while Sully gently placed Jerry's service hat on the center of the red maple leaf. The pallbearers joined their fellow officers in attention before the entire company sharply saluted. With a nod from the Master of Ceremony, the pallbearers turned in unison and marched to their seats beside a large vibrant wreath with Jerry's photo in the center.
"Please be seated," the man at the podium said kindly and the assembled group shuffled about briefly. Once everyone was settled he continued. "Good morning, thank you all for being here today as we honor the life of Detective Jerry Barber. I'm Commander James Beck of 33rd Division. I had the pleasure of being Jerry's field training officer when he came out of the academy, we rode together for almost a year and from the first day I knew he was destined for greatness."
Beside her, Gail could feel Traci's shoulder lean into hers more heavily as the commander spoke. This was always tough, listening to people refer to someone you love in the past tense as they spoke fondly of the deceased. Peck reached over and took Traci's hand in hers; giving it a gentle squeeze to remind Nash she was right there with her. The blonde didn't have to look at her friend to know the tears were already flowing and felt her own eyes sting, forcing Gail to take a deep breath.
"Jerry had an intuition like no other, a sixth sense if you will. While he was incredibly intuitive he never lost sight of what was important and that was connecting with people and truly being present with the citizens and fellow officers he served. He never thought he was better than anyone because he wore a badge and I can whole-heartedly say that he made the badge better for having worn it," the commander said, glancing down to turn the page in front of him before continuing. "It wasn't a great surprise when I heard Jerry had earned his Detective's shield, his work ethic and attention to detail made him a prime candidate for the job and I knew in an instant that whichever division he worked for would be privileged to have him. Luckily for all of us, Jerry was a better detective than poker player."
A collective chuckle erupted throughout the crowd; a brief smile flickering across Oliver and Sam's drawn faces as numerous memories ran through their minds. The most prominent was the night the three of them got together for a game, the alcohol had been flowing freely, and they had quickly won all of Barber's money. Not being one to quit, Jerry had wagered the next precious thing he had on him; his mustache. The bet was like blood in shark infested waters and Shaw and Swarek had shown him no mercy with Oliver winning the pot and forcing the detective to shave his meticulously manicured facial hair.
"Over Jerry's prestigious career he played an intricate roll in solving countless homicides and served on many taskforces. He often worked high profile cases, but never let the success go to his head; he set a very high standard for himself and proved to be a sterling example of what a detective should embody both on and off duty. I have no doubt that this city and the citizens Jerry Barber served are better off for having been under his watch," he continued, turning to address the casket head on.
"Jerry, you were like a son to me…and though you were taken from us much too soon, I know you're looking down on us, keeping a watchful eye on us all. Rest peacefully my friend," Beck concluded, his voice breaking slightly at the end of his speech. Blinking back tears of his own, the commander gathered his papers and stepped down to exchange places with the department Chaplin.
Traci sobbed silently in anguish between Andy and Gail who each held a hand, only letting their grip slip so Nash could dab at the tears streaking down her face. Eventually she gave up, letting the tears drop down onto her jacket, not caring if she looked like a mess. Beside her, Gail was struggling not to break.
It felt as if every word being spoken was cutting her open a little more than she'd already been. Gail felt raw and exposed and desperately wanted to escape. She kept focusing on Traci and being there for her friend, but as time slipped on she found it harder and harder to sit there. Peck knew it was only going to get worse as the Chaplin stepped up to the podium.
"Good morning," the elder man said, adjusting the microphone as he opened his bible to a marked page. "It's never easy to lose a loved one, but if you stop to think for a moment, they're never truly gone. They may no longer be here in the physical form, but they live on in our hearts and in our memories to cherish forever. Judging by the sheer number of all of you gathered here it's obvious that Jerry was loved by many and I can see by the look in your eyes his work will live on through each and every one of you."
"Let us pray..." the Chaplin began and the assembled group bowed their heads.
As soon as Gail's eyes closed she was bombarded with images from the horrific nightmare that brought them here today and suddenly the Chaplin's voice ceased to reach her as he led his prayer. Peck's shoulders jolted slightly at the memory of being knocked into the wall and sliding unsteadily to the floor when Jerry rushed Perrick, her drug hobbled legs unable to support her without assistance let alone allowing her body to help the detective.
The last image she had of Jerry lying unconscious, pale faced, and sweaty on the floor assaulted her mind. Gail felt her chest tighten as if an elephant were sitting on it and she had to fight the urge to gasp for air. She opened her eyes, but kept her head bowed to not draw attention, thankful for the reprieve from the onslaught of images. Unfortunately her psyche didn't receive the same pardon. Pushed too far past the brink of her resolve, the blonde began to crumble. Her shoulders hitched with silent sobs as the dam broke and tears cascaded down her cheeks in waves. Heat rose from her chest into her neck flushing her normally pale skin a soft crimson hew.
Gail was suddenly very angry with her inability to remain carefully composed. In her head, she could practically hear her mother scolding her, demanding she keep it together, to stop being weak and to be a Peck. The thought only served to make the anguish she felt that much more unbearable.
Gritting her teeth, Peck was seconds away from snatching her left hand back from Traci's grasp and making a run for it when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"It's ok, just breathe," Holly's familiar voice whispered in her ear accompanied by a subtle, reassuring squeeze. Gail hesitantly nodded and closed her eyes as she took a few deep breathes to calm her hammering heartbeat and stop the flight impulse raging inside her. After a few beats she was surprised to find the tightness in her chest easing with each breath. There was another gentle squeeze on her shoulder. "Good, that's it…"
Dov watched the exchanged between the two women with bated breath, waiting for Gail to do what she always did and pull away, but he was surprised when the blonde actually started to relax in front of him. Peck's shoulders rose with a few additional deep breaths, her composure slowly coming back to her as the Chaplin's prayer came to a close followed by a chorus of amen's sounding off around them.
Blinking through her tears, Traci lifted her gaze to look at Gail and was taken aback by the blonde's blue eyes that often seemed cold, almost as if her preverbal wall was physically visible. Instead of finding the safe guard in place, Traci saw nothing, but unbridled emotion mixed with torment. Nash knew this wasn't going to be a walk in the park for Peck, but hadn't imagined it would be this hard on her and Traci felt her heart swell with gratitude for her friend who was so bravely standing beside her despite the pain it was inflicting.
At the podium, the Chaplin scooped up his worn bible and approached the casket, signing the cross above Jerry's service cap before taking a seat beside Commander Beck once again.
A burst of static echoed through the air around them as the radios on their belts came to life.
"Badge 2331…Badge 2331…Detective Jerome Michael Barber…" the female dispatcher began.
There was another short burst of static followed by a beep.
"This is the last call for Detective Jerry Barber of 15th Division, end of watch November 17th, 2014. You may be gone, but you will never be forgotten. We show you in route to your new duty assignment. Rest in peace dear friend, we have the watch from here," the dispatcher finished, her voice wavering slightly over their radios.
Traci's head dropped forward as the End of Watch call concluded and the marching band's trumpeter rose from his seat, lifting his instrument to his lips and started playing the opening notes of Taps. The indescribably distinct song haunted the soul of service members everywhere for it signified the final, mournful farewell to a fallen comrade and hero. Despite her best efforts Nash could no longer stem the flow of tears as the soul searing notes filtered through the air.
Solemnly, Sam and Oliver stepped to the casket to meticulously fold the Canadian flag draped over its surface into a tight, crisp triangle as the song continued behind them.
Holding the flag in the palm of his hand, Oliver turned heel and approached Traci who looked up at him through tear filled eyes as he knelt on one knee, placing the flag on her lap. With a shaky movement, Nash lifted her trembling hand to rest against the flag, her fingers absently running over the stitch work as she completely broke down. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her shoulders shook with uncontrolled wails as if the presentation of the flag had made Jerry's passing real. Leaning forward, Oliver removed his cap, tucking it under his arm before he placed a gloved hand on top of Traci's, blinking back his own tears.
"I'm so sorry Traci," he said lowly, reaching out to pull her into a tight hug. Still sobbing, Nash leaned forward to rest her forehead on his shoulder. "He loved you with everything he had kiddo, don't ever forget that."
Oliver held her close, at a complete loss for further words, wishing there was something he could say or do to help bring peace to the grieving woman in his arms. He looked passed Traci's shoulder to Gail whose eyes were cast down to the ground, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Instinctively, Ollie reached over and placed his hand over hers, giving it a gentle squeeze and was pleased when she lifted her gaze to meet his. Gail gave him a small, sad smile as he patted her hand once again, a silent understanding that they'd talk later passing between them before he turned his attention back to Traci who had somewhat calmed on his shoulder.
Nash sat back as Andy rubbed her back soothingly. Oliver rose and looked down at Traci and sharply saluted her before turning and falling back in line with Sam and the other pall bearers as last lingering notes from the trumpet faded into silence and Commander Beck returned to the microphone.
"I'd like to invite everyone to join us tonight at the Black Penny for a casual memorial service for Jerry. Come out, grab a pint or two, and share a story about our friend," Beck said, looking out amongst the sea of faces before him. "Thank you all once again for being here today. Now if you would rise and join me in the 3 Gun Salute we'll conclude our service for Detective Jerry Barber."
The group rose to their feet, bringing their hands to their bills in final salute once again as the color guard raised their rifles and fired 3 evenly spaced shots in the air.
With each pull of the trigger two pall bearers removed a rose from the flower shroud around the casket and laid it on top of its wooden surface. They saluted their friend one final time and stepped back in line for the next pair to follow suit.
As the echo from the last shot dwindled the assembled crowd began to disperse solemnly. Gail and Andy rose to their feet, helping to support Traci as she stood on shaking legs and approached the casket with the flag hugged tightly to her chest. She leaned over the coffin's lid and draped her arms over its surface in a hug.
Gail took a hesitant step back from the shroud, the flight impulse returning threefold. Andy moved to compensate for the blonde's sudden absence, a look of understanding showing on McNally's face as Dov and Chris pushed between the row of chairs to lend a hand. Gail tried to return to her friend's side, she really did, but no matter how much she willed herself to step forward her feet continued to carry her away from the heart wrenching scene in front of her.
"I'm sorry," she said lowly, her eyes cast down to the ground with shame, unsure if anyone had actually heard her. Peck quickly turned and walked away full aware that numerous sets of eyes followed her as she weaved through the crowd. Her chest continued to tighten as she walked and for a moment she wondered if her lungs would burst from the pressure.
Once she had successfully navigated her way through the thick of the crowd and back into the parking lot, Gail stopped on the other side of Holly's truck, her back pressing up against passenger door as her eyes clamped shut and tried to breathe. Silent tears slid down her cheeks and she willed the ground to open up and swallow her whole; anything had to be better than the agony she was feeling and she would gladly welcome the vanishing act into oblivion if it were possible.
The sound of footsteps to her left filled her senses and a moment later a familiar pair of soft hands ran up her arms, snaked up around to her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. Gail didn't have to open her eyes to know it was Holly, the sweet scent of her shampoo mixed with a subtle perfume confirming it for her and the blonde immediately wrapped her arms around the doc's trim waist.
To her credit, Holly didn't speak; she just held the blonde and let her cry it out on her shoulder. She knew they were rapidly reaching the point where Holly would have to address Gail's need to talk about what she'd been through. Clearly keeping everything inside was just eating at the officer and the doc knew she'd have to tread lightly if possible.
Slowly, Peck regained her composure and pulled back from the brunette's embrace wiping at the tears on her cheeks.
"Sorry," Gail said, her face still slightly flushed. "I couldn't stand there anymore…I tried, but…"
"No need to apologize, Gail. I know you did," Holly said, rubbing Peck's upper arms, "so does Traci. You did great up there."
Gail scoffed and shook her head.
"Come on, let's grab some lunch and get cleaned up before we head to the Penny," the brunette said, pulling open the passenger door and stepping back.
"Can I come back to your place? I don't want to be alone around the boys…Chris has that look on his face like he wants to play psychologist and I just don't have it in me right now to humor him…" Gail trailed off, her eyes needlessly pleading with her.
Holly nodded and shot her a small smile. "Sure," she said and felt her heart skip a beat when Peck smiled and nodded before slipping into the passenger seat.