Warning for mild language.

Just once it'd be nice to be happy for longer than a half hour or a day. It would be nice to latch onto happiness and never let go. . whatever happened to it?

Why is everything so much harder now. Living. Breathing. Thinking. I wish I could go back to years ago when I could actually do something without feeling everyone's eyes on me. Judging. Waiting for me to mess up... Again. I've about had it.

They can laugh all they want, but their shows almost over...

I wish I could go back in time. Back to when my laughter wasn't so...empty...so fake. So forced. Meaningless.

I've been crushed. My heart shattered to a million tiny pieces and they don't make the right kind of glue to fix it. It can't be fixed. It'll never be pieced together the same, when so many people have taken the pieces with them to their graves.

I thought I was getting better. I lied to myself so I wouldn't have to face the truth. That I've actually been getting worse...

I don't know what to do anymore. My life is a mess... falling apart around me...and I'm going down with it. I can only hang in there for so long before I take my last breath.

Help. Me.

The paper was crumbled up, Bobby pulled it from the locker room. The help me had been crossed out, but not enough that it couldn't be seen. "I found this on the bench the other day." He showed Grossie. "But that's not all. After I found the note, which I assume wasn't meant to be seen. It had been crumbled up for the trash. There was another note. From Jon." He held out another piece of paper.

Hey, I don't know who needs this. But I saw your note. I'm here for you. Come talk to me.

~Jon.

Grossie looked it over. Jon knew?

"He had to know. There's no way he didn't." Bobby bit his lip. "And how do we know Ponch didn't come talk to Jon?"

Grossie shrugged. "All I know is that Jon was aware of someone in this station hurting. He's probably feeling how we do right now."

Bobby nodded, but didn't respond. You don't know how I feel. I knew he was going to do this but I did nothing! We were just starting to become friends. I blew it. He looked away, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "I messed up bad."

oOoOo

Jon laid awake, staring at the ceiling. Carlos thankfully hadn't stayed long. He had to leave for work, but not before promising to return as soon as he could. Jon did his best to enjoy the silence. "He talks a mile a minute," he joked quietly.

Ponch didn't respond. His back still to Jon, he tried to rest. No strength or desire to get up or talk...or do anything really. It had taken a lot of what little energy he had, to get up and sit beside Jon's bed. His body ached all over, he closed his eyes. Sleep could help with the pain temporarily. Why can't I just sleep forever?

He pressed his face down into his pillow.

"Hey, Ponch?" Jon asked, glancing over. No response. "Are you asleep?" He waited. No response. "I'm just going to assume that's a yes? Or are we not talking again?"

Ponch let out a loud enough sigh that Jon knew he was awake.

"So we're not talking? I don't know how we'll-"

Ponch cut him off. "It was hard enough talking the first time." i don't want to hurt you, Baker. Please stop asking questions.

"I know. Talking is hard... but we can't afford to keep things to ourselves all the time. Sure I understand if I'm not the right person to talk to, but I don't want to sit by and watch you throw away your life-"

"Jon..." Ponch started to say.

"You deserve to live, Ponch." He felt tears in his eyes, waiting for a response that never came.

Ponch didn't know what to say. How do I deserve to live? He wiped at the tears in his own eyes.

"I'm sorry I moved away... and that I couldn't be there for you when you needed me. Please, let me be here for you now."

"I moved too, Jon. I didn't say anything to you and then you were gone. You don't have anything to apologize for, it's not like I was there for you either during that time." but at least I never forgot your name or about your existence.

"Yeah... but even when we saw each other again-"

"I don't want to talk anymore, Jon." He closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep. To block out all the pain. The physical. The mental... everything hurt.

"Okay. When do you want to talk?" Jon tried to keep his voice calm, to hide the anger creeping in. You've hardly spoken to me and what it's too much now!? I want my best friend back! He took a deep breath.

The room remained silent, no response. Jon sighed.

L.A. December 2018

Jon sat in the living room at the Getraer home. The annual CHP after work Christmas party. Joe had offered to have it his place this year, it changed each year. Jon sat beside Bobby and Grossie.

Grossie sipped a glass of eggnog, while Bobby tried to enjoy a sugar cookie. Each one of them sitting lost in thought. The party was good, but they were missing something...someone.

Bear sat across from them on another couch with Bonnie, Harlan and Jeb. In the chair beside the couch sat Getraer.

"Well, I should be getting home," Grossie said suddenly. It's not really much of a party anyway, we've hardly spoken to each other since we got in. He added in his mind.

The others just glanced up at him, but didn't say anything more than 'oh, goodbye.' Each of them lost in their own thoughts.

"Merry Christmas," he added before leaving.

"Merry Christmas, Grossman. Thanks for coming," Joe said standing up to walk him to the door. Grossie shook his hand before leaving, then headed out for his car.

"I wish you would start talking," Grossie said to no one, though it was directed to Ponch. "I wish I knew where you were." After Jon had gotten out of the hospital back at the beginning of April, Ponch stayed a few more days. He'd barely gotten out before he showed up at work to drop off his badge in Getraer's office, and tell him he was leaving the CHP.

When Joe asked if there was anything he could do, Ponch didn't give an answer. He didn't even take a moment to say goodbye to any of his friends.

Jon didn't believe it when he heard the news, he went to Ponch's apartment and found it empty. He went to Ponch's mom's house, she wasn't there. He'd called, Ponch wouldn't answer his phone.

Grossie had also done everything in the same order as Jon. He just couldn't believe Ponch would be gone without saying goodbye. Just come home...that's what I want for Christmas. Grossie thought as he drove back to his apartment.

When Grossie got up to his apartment room, he was shocked to find the door open. Someone broke in! He slowly walked inside, looking around. The place looks cleaner than i remember leaving it. Did a neat freak break in? He made his way to the bedroom, where he found a person laying on the floor, wrapped in his blanket. Someone broke in for shelter... his breathing relaxed a little, but he didn't quite drop his guard yet...until. "Holy shit! Ponch?"

Grossie felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Relief, anger, sadness, hurt...a mixture of emotions all surfacing at once in one moment. "I thought you were dead. I really thought you were dead." He slowly sat on the floor by Ponch.

Ponch glanced over a moment. "I forgot to close the door..." He got up, trying to head for the door, having somehow not even noticed Grossie sitting on the floor. He went to the main door, finding it closed. "I guess I did close it." He turned heading back for the room.

That's weird...Grossie thought, watching Ponch come back in still not acknowledging Grossie's presence. He watched Ponch lay down, crawling under the blanket he'd borrowed from Grossie's bed. He took a deep breath, before reaching for his phone.

Ponch sat up suddenly. "Shit! Grossie, I'm sorry! I...I didn't mean to-" tears filled his eyes. "Your spare key was the only thing I had left...I came here. I... I've been here twice. I'm sorry I took your key..."

Grossie's eyes widened slightly. You've been here recently before this!? "Ponch, no it's okay. It's the spare key for a reason. It's for friends and family. You're family." He tried to keep his voice calm, despite the fact he had started to cry. Are you okay? Where have you been? Why did you leave? Have you talked to Jon? Many questions came to his head one after the other, but he dismissed them, knowing they weren't the questions to ask. He didn't want to start an interrogation and scare his friend off. But what could he say? "Can... can I give you a hug?" He asked finally. The only question he knew wouldn't be too upsetting or hard to answer...and he was sure Ponch was in need of a hug.

Ponch didn't say anything, he just moved closer, Grossie hugged him. It had barely been a second before Ponch began to cry. "I'm sorry...I...I didn't want to hurt anyone by being around. I was scared. I thought I was going to die."

Grossie felt awkward for a moment, he wouldn't usually offer hugs. He also wouldn't usually let someone cry on him, however in this moment he felt needed. He would do what he could to comfort his friend. If this was it, then this was it. It's okay. I'm just glad you're alive.

It wasn't long before Ponch had cried himself to sleep. Grossie stayed with him for a while, before deciding to go make a phone call. He carefully moved, lifting Ponch up to place him on the bed. He's a little lighter than I expected. He noted. He hadn't taken the blanket off that Ponch wrapped himself in, but he adjusted it to keep him cozy.

Then Grossie headed for the living room, where he pulled out his phone and dialed Joe's number.

"Hello?" Joe answered on the second ring.

"Sarge, is everyone still at the party?" Grossie asked. He knew the question would be suspicious, but if he didn't ask he knew there was a higher risk of the news spreading. For once Grossie was being extremely cautious about the situation. He didn't want to overwhelm Ponch, but he wanted Joe to know he was okay. He wasn't about contacting Jon, due to the fact Jon was Ponch's best friend yet he chose Grossie's place over Jon's.

"Uh, no. They left shortly after you. Why?" Getraer frowned. I don't know if I like this call.

"Sarge... I'm trusting you with a big secret. Don't tell anyone."

Joe nodded. "I promise." Now I really don't like this...

Grossie took a deep breath. "Ponch is here."

"What!?"

Grossie tried not to laugh at Getraer's response. "I found him here when I got home. He's sleeping now, and I just wanted you to know he's alive. He talked a little but not much. I'll let you know if he wants to see people. But I was hoping you'd give me some time off to be with him."

"You have vacation time and sick leave. I'll give you as much time as you need." Take good care of him. Keep him alive. Please.

oOoOo

Ponch woke to the smell of food. His stomach hurt. It hurt bad. He hadn't eaten since Monday, and it was Thursday. It had become a normal habit to skip a few days in between, it was hard enough to find food when he had no money to pay for it. It smells so good...he thought. but I have to go...