A/N - Sorry for the delay, RL is getting a little out of hand. But I have a plan, which is to post this, then miss this weekend, and possibly the weekend after that, just so I can get a few things sorted out.

A/N II - Extra special thanks to my beta, Realmlife for putting up with me these past couple of weeks. I owe you an extra big chum-bucket full of chargrilled penguins -x-

A/N III - and speaking of thanks, I want to thank people who have reviewed and PMed/emailed me. I'm always very grateful for your interest and your support. I want to give a special shout-out to EssayRider, who's been reviewing Deadly Game. It's always fun getting reviews, but especially when you get them for old fics that you think everyone has forgotten about. Thank you -x-

Chapter 5

Remembrance

How had this happened?

Ed sat in the car with the most senior police officer in the city and his two sergeants, heading to the cemetery, not exactly sure how he'd managed to get into this position.

Back at the boarding house, after the others had gone, he'd come within moments of giving up and going back to hide in his room. That was obviously what Sam expected him to do. And that was what he wanted to do as he felt awkward about seeing Leo's grieving family.

But that was also the easy option, and in the end he'd found a cab that had taken him as far as he could afford. Then, not sure what other option there was, he'd started walking beside the road in the baking sunshine.

Just at the point when he'd been feeling at his lowest, Ironside and his sergeants had shown up in the Chief's new, distinctive black Plymouth. He'd almost missed a step when he'd seen the car, distracted by a powerful mix of gratitude, relief and panicked surprise. He couldn't refuse, even if he'd wanted to, as his other choices were much worse: either he'd have staggered up to the graveside forty minutes late just as they all were leaving, or he would have blown it off and kept walking until he dropped from heatstroke.

True, he'd had to endure a grilling by the Chief in front of the others, but it was worth it for the shade in the car, and the brief rest. It hadn't helped that Ironside seemed to know instinctively what had gone wrong between him and the others, and that he'd almost died of shame when he'd had to admit completely running out of money. But not even the sting of embarrassment could match the relief he felt now that they'd arrived.

As Sergeant Reese drove slowly along the cemetery driveway, the Chief's well-timed rant petered out and there was a respectful silence. The Plymouth pulled up next to a line of other cars at the parking lot, and the men got out in silence.

Ed stood and shivered in spite of the warmth, the cold dread from earlier returning, full force. He struggled into his suit jacket, doing up the middle button to try and look smarter, then checked his tie in the wing mirror, frowning at his reflection. He still looked flushed and more flustered than he'd have liked, but it was less obvious now he'd had a few minutes to cool off and catch his breath in the car.

He waited, Ironside and the two sergeants waited as well, but Ed couldn't walk up to the graveside with them, it felt like he'd somehow cheated and he wanted the chance to think. The Chief looked at him expectantly. The other two did the same and once more Ed felt out of his depth.

'I just-' he paused. 'I just need a moment.'

The Chief looked at him, an expression of concern on his face that just made him feel uncomfortable all over again. He didn't need concern, he needed… Ed frowned. He didn't know what he needed, but the Chief being concerned probably wasn't at the top of the list.

Ironside kept looking at him for a long moment, then gave him a curt nod. The return of that familiar demeanour made Ed feel a little less confused. The Chief and his sergeants walked on ahead while Ed waited, trying to summon up the courage to follow. In the end, he felt more conspicuous and out of place lurking by the car, so a minute after they'd gone, Ed started up the path towards the graveside.

It was still very warm. He felt the heat from the sun on the back of his head, and his mouth was dry, but now he could take his time. There was the murmur of subdued conversation, as well as the faint hum of traffic, the crunch of his footsteps on the gravel and the occasional incongruous whistle and chirp from nearby birds.

The grave was impossible to miss. As well as large numbers of wreaths, there was a throng of people, including many he knew from the SFPD, as well as a Channel 6 crew that were busy setting the camera up. The shooting must have made it to the local news, but Ed didn't like the idea of this being shown on TV, or that he himself might be as well.

He looked around and found a discrete place to stand that was inconspicuous and out of the gaze of the camera, tucked close to the back, behind a row of policemen that he vaguely recognised. Once still, he clasped his hands together, to stop him putting them in his pockets, and let himself breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

He'd made it, in spite of everything that had happened this morning. And now, standing at the graveside, he was glad, and grateful to the external forces of chance that had helped. Whatever else had happened, and regardless of what the other four thought, Leo had been a friend and skipping out on the funeral because he was too scared would have been wrong. He'd have to thank the Chief and Reese for the ride. He frowned. He should have done that before, at least loud enough for them to hear. He wasn't sure when he'd get the next chance.

Glancing up, Ed saw the Chief standing like a looming thundercloud near the back, slightly to the left of the TV crew. He was looking around as if searching for something. Ed saw Reese standing at the other end of the group, also on his own, and also looking as if he was searching for something. It struck Ed as odd, but no more odd than anything else today, so he didn't dwell on it. Instead, he checked the time again and waited. A few more mourners arrived, then not long after that the family and a priest.

The light murmur of conversation dropped away, leaving the rustle of leaves and the songs of birds, and Leo's coffin was carried slowly up to the graveside. Ed stared at it, the same swaying, lurching feeling he'd had back at Ironside's office making it difficult to stay upright. With his right hand, Ed gripped his left wrist, wrapping his fingers tightly around his watch, holding on to it for reassurance, as the priest started to speak. He braced himself, hearing the familiar words of welcome.

Ed kept his focus for less than a minute. The words began to slide past him, their meaning lost, and everything around him felt disconnected. He'd expected to feel more. He'd felt more in the days since the shooting. Now he was standing here at the graveside, there was nothing, just a cold, empty space where his emotions used to be. The shock and pain from before had gone and nothing had replaced it.

Instead of listening, Ed stared at the coffin again, trying to think about Leo and some of the good things they had done together, but rather than anything positive his mind flitted around the circumstance of the shooting. Memories of the words he'd used, his tone, the way he'd reacted, the way he'd given in, and the hard, accusatory look Leo had given him when he'd spoken about the reward.

The memories swirled as Ed stared blindly in front of him, images blurring. A dead body on the ground. A pool of blood on the floor. A sparkling ring on her finger. He'd recognised the ring and his world had stopped…

This was very different from before. It had been months (he'd deliberately stopped counting the days) since Anne's funeral, and that had been the only one he'd attended other than his father's, years before. Her family were from LA, so he travelled there for the weekend. They'd taken care of the service, all he'd had to do was show up. He'd stood beside them as they'd cried, with everything in such sharp focus that he could recall every detail; the shade of blue in the sky, the smell of the dry earth and cut grass, and the delicate shape of the single red rose he'd placed on the top of her coffin.

Her parents had asked him to stay but he hadn't. They were kind and helpful, and as welcoming as they could be in the circumstances. But he'd only met them twice before, and one of those was the engagement party, so it had felt like an imposition. He'd not known many of the others there, few of her friends from LA knew they were going to be married. It had all been such a whirlwind, barely even three months from start to finish.

Three months: That's all it was. Less than a hundred days to go from their first meeting when the world had suddenly felt so perfect, to travelling back on a late-night, short-haul flight, knowing that it was over. Permanently.

Life was so short and fragile, and the future so unsure. Nothing was ever going to be the same.

Wasn't that always the way with death?

Someone in front of him shifted and Ed started, dragging himself back from past to present and his surroundings snapped into focus.

People were beginning to move. The priest had stopped talking and was shaking hands with the family. All around there was the soft hum of restrained conversation.

Ed blinked. The coffin was in the ground.

The funeral was over.

It took Ed a few moments to believe what was going on, then a shudder went down his spine. He'd just spent half an hour, maybe more, standing staring into space, not even aware of what else was going on around him, caught in the maelstrom of his own grief. It was all a blank, lost forever to the flow of time.

Deeply shaken at how easily he'd been distracted, Ed didn't move. This wasn't the way he'd expected to react. He'd prided himself on his ability to pay attention to his surrounding, and remember details. It was the basic skill you were taught at the Academy. But today, right now, if anyone had asked him what happened or what was said, he'd have no answer. Some cop he was, if that was how he coped with real pressure.

How had this happened? Again, he had no answer.

As he stood, he hesitated, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets. The funeral was finished and he couldn't stand at the graveside all day, but he had nowhere to go. He didn't have a job at the moment, no work to occupy his mind, and he didn't want to go back home and feel the enmity of his friends. He was lost, without a direction.

Around him, the mourners slowly thinned out, moving away in groups of two or three, quietly talking. Ed watched them, still undecided. More than before, he felt as if his internal compass was spinning chaotically. He had lurched through the day from one near-disaster to another, without any thought as to where he was going or how he was going to get there. He'd achieved his goal of attending the funeral, but now he had no idea what to do.

Ed didn't like the feeling, and tried to narrow his choices, fighting against the subtle but persistent sensation of being out of his depth. He had to do something, go somewhere, anywhere but here. There would be a wake, but he couldn't face Leo's family and his friends, even if he could figure out a way of getting there. He couldn't stay standing around next to the grave either. He couldn't go back to the department with the other officers. He didn't want to go back to his room, although-

Something made him start again, jerking his attention back to his surroundings. It was just for a fraction of a second, but Ed sensed someone looking at him, feeling the depressingly-familiar weight of a hostile glare. It was from an unknown man, less than ten feet away who was moving quickly to the gates, with a hat covering most of his face. As he passed, he glanced at Ed as if wondering why he was lingering. There was enough cold curiosity in the expression to make Ed feel ashamed, as he got the fleeting sense that the man knew he was at least partly responsible for Leo's death.

Ed shook his head very slightly, trying to dismiss the feeling as paranoia. While the facts were probably common knowledge around the department, it was unlikely that everyone knew what had happened between him and Leo.

The sensation was gone in a moment but it disrupted Ed's ability to focus, and the feeling of acute responsibility stayed, closing in around him. Though at the time he'd felt as if there was no choice and nowhere else to turn, he'd still failed. He'd failed Leo. He'd failed Anne. He'd failed the Chief.

That final thought hurt more than he expected, twisting his insides into cold, tight knots. He'd never forget the look of profound disappointment on Ironside's face the morning he'd been suspended. The image made it feel as if he was walking through syrup, and Ed swallowed against the lump that formed in his throat. Wishing the ground would open up under him hadn't worked before, but that didn't stop the feeling returning at full force.

Then, just as insistently, another more recent memory came to his mind: of the Chief less than an hour ago, just as they'd gotten out of the car, his eyes filled with a compassion and concern that he'd not expected.

Ed swallowed hard again. The Chief. He should speak to the Chief.

It was that thought that finally pushed Ed into action. He needed to say something to the Chief. He'd never have been able to get here without them, and all he'd done was mumble something incoherent in the back of the car. He wanted to say thank you, and even though that goal wasn't much in the way of a long-term plan, it was going to have to be enough for the moment.

Ed turned away from wreaths of flowers and the hole in the ground, becoming aware of what was going on around him in the rest of the cemetery. The Channel 6 crew had gone, leaving muddy marks where the camera had been. A couple of older men in overalls were standing discretely under some trees, leaning on their shovels, waiting for everyone to go. Groups of people drifted down the path and in the background he could see a few cars moving slowly down the driveway.

Nervous that he'd missed his chance, Ed searched for the black Plymouth and it was still where they'd left it, the chrome fender bright in the full sunlight. But there was no sign of the Chief.

Frowning to himself, Ed started towards the car, reasonably certain that they wouldn't leave without it.

'Hey! Kid!'

For the second time in as many minutes Ed was caught by surprise by someone else. He looked up sharply to see Sergeant Reese heading towards him. Reese smiled as he came closer, but Ed didn't respond.

'Hey, kid, I'm glad I saw you,' the sergeant said as they met on the path. 'You need a ride back in?'

Ed paused before answering, as he hadn't expected any of the others to be keeping an eye out for him. Sure, he wanted to speak to the Chief, and to Reese as well, to thank them, but he hadn't expected an offer of a ride home.

'Um… I can't,' he murmured, but Reese didn't let it go.

'Sure you can, kid,' he said with an easy familiarity. 'I need to get straight back, the Chief's got me redoing some reports. You can keep me company on the drive. Make sure I don't scratch the paint.' He jerked his thumb towards the Plymouth.

'What about the Chief?'

'He's going to the wake,' Carl replied. 'He's getting a ride with Bill. I think he said something about seeing Randall as well.'

'And Ser-?'

'Andy's got a better offer,' Reese gave an amused grin, nodding to the TV trailer parked further down. 'He's back working too.'

Now out of obvious excuses, and unable to think of a better way of getting out of this without being rude, Ed gave in and they walked side by side to the Plymouth. It was very warm when they got in and, as Reese turned the engine over, Ed wound down his window, feeling the need for cooler air. After a moment, the sergeant did the same, then slowly rolled the car down towards the gates and the street beyond.

At first, Ed made a point of looking away from Reese. Slowly, as they got further from the cemetery, Ed started to relax a little. They still didn't speak, and Sergeant Reese didn't try to make conversation, he just kept focused on the road. The silence wasn't companionable, but it wasn't uncomfortable either. Ed propped his elbow on the open window and put his chin in the palm of his hand, enjoying the breeze and letting it all pass him by.

The traffic grew steadily busier, and the car often stopped in a queue. Reese started to mutter about the tailbacks and the quality of driving of San Franciscans in general, but Ed got the impression it wasn't for his benefit, and the sergeant would have been muttering about it even if he'd had no passenger.

Ed kept staring mindlessly into the middle distance, having been lulled almost into a trance by the steady drone of cars, when Reese gave a sudden cough. Once again, Ed started in surprise.

Reese shrugged, looking troubled.

'Look, kid,' he said. 'This is kinda awkward.'

Ed stared, alarmed by the change, and afraid of the inevitable questions. It was clear to him what was going on and he didn't want to speak about the shooting, not to anyone. He'd thought Reese wasn't interested in gossip and had offered him a lift because he'd wanted to help. That was a mistake, Ed could see that now, as the grapevine must have been burning with curiosity, and this was as good a chance as anyone was going to get for some direct answers.

Sitting in a car, having accepted a ride, there was no way he could refuse. Resigned and more than a little hurt at the underhand way Reese had gone about it, Ed tucked his chin down on his chest, crossed his arms and waited.

'It's the Chief,' the sergeant started to say. 'He likes everything just so. You know what he's like.'

Confused by the opening gambit, and the implication that the Chief was somehow interested in gossip as well, Ed didn't reply.

'I shoulda found you a few days ago,' Reese continued. 'You see, he wanted me to get a report on what happened before the shooting, in the department, before we all left for the Rum-Runner.'

Ed frowned, more confused, and on his guard. Before? Why was Reese asking him about before? Surely was the shooting that everyone wanted to know about? Who cared about what happened before?

'Before?' he asked cautiously, wondering if he'd been wrong in his assumption of what this was about. Reese nodded.

'Yeah, the Chief needs to know what went down, from the very start, what everyone remembers. Who was doing what. He likes having all the details.'

'That sure sounds like the Chief,' Ed murmured, his confusion growing deeper. Maybe he had misjudged this. Maybe this wasn't about gossip after all.

'I shoulda asked before, but you were benched and I didn't think I should-' Reese stopped, pursing his lips, looking more embarrassed. 'You seemed kinda upset.'

Now as uncomfortable as he thought he could get, Ed stared. Reese's gaze flicked between Ed and the road, as he was still trying to concentrate on driving as well as speaking.

'I did say it was kinda awkward,' Reese said quickly. 'But I've gotta ask or the Chief will bust me back to patrolman like that.' He snapped his fingers loudly, making Ed jump. 'And I kinda like being a sergeant.'

His mind in a whirl, Ed looked back out of the window, too unsettled to think straight for the moment. This wasn't about gossip? And Reese wasn't trying to go behind his back? Beside him, the sergeant waited.

'You mean, you don't want to ask me about the shooting?' Ed asked at last, praying the answer would be "no". 'Or about Leo? What he said? What I did?'

'Look, kid,' Reese said, his discomfort obvious in his tone. 'I just need to get my report done for the Chief. The rest,' he crinkled up his nose in disgust, 'that's got nothing to do with it.'

Ed fell silent again, still feeling sceptical, but hoping that Carl was on the level. He sounded like he was, and it was exactly the sort of thing the Chief would want to know about. He always liked to know all the facts even if, at the moment, Ed didn't understand why it might be important.

He drew a deliberate, deep breath, his doubts unresolved. But what did he have to lose by trusting Reese's word and answering his questions? It wasn't like talking about it was going to make his day any worse.

'I don't know what to tell you,' he said. 'I worked on the Adamson file. The Chief wanted it done by the afternoon and since I didn't have anything else to do, I wrote up all the notes.'

Reese nodded as if he'd expected that answer. Of course, he would have expected it, he was there that morning as well.

'What else do you remember?' Reese asked.

Ed frowned and closed his eyes, trying to think clearly, feeling the air from the window on his face. At first, it was hard remember enough to give an accurate answer. He pushed himself to focus and slowly some details filtered through.

'We'd finished the briefing,' he murmured. 'Everyone was keyed up. The others were talking.'

In his mind he could see the office at the department, men milling around, and hear the low buzz of conversation. There was an edge of anticipation, everyone knew this was a big deal, and that the Chief was counting on them. It was short notice and they'd pulled men in from nearby to get the numbers. It was just his bad luck that he was on the late-night shift downstairs.

'I was worried about the case file,' he said. 'I didn't think I'd get it finished. I sat down at the desk.'

Suddenly, Ed could see it with the clarity of a movie. As he sat down at the desk, he slipped his jacket off and hung it over the back of the seat, hot in the stuffy office. He could feel his nerves on edge already, he'd never been on an early morning raid before. He needed something to stop him getting more anxious. He opened the file on the desk and started reading the notes, but it was hard to concentrate with all the noise and movement. Someone yanked open the door-

'A couple left straight away,' he said. 'I think one was Manning. And Jeff left soon after. I don't remember him coming back in.'

Ed opened his eyes to see Reese concentrating on the road, but he was nodding.

'Who was with Manning?' he asked.

'Um-' Ed tried to think back. The chatter was too distracting and he the more he tried to read the harder it was to keep his place. He heard snatches of conversation, none of them of any interest, but they were loud enough to keep him from reading in peace. Man, he was tired and it was too early to do this. He'd never needed a coffee like he'd needed one right now. Maybe he should have just given up and gone with Larry to the…

'Larry,' Ed said. 'Manning and Larry. They went to the coffee machine.'

Reese nodded again.

'What else?'

He was writing up the notes, he could smell cigarettes from the corridor and he licked his lips. That was the worst part of being broke, he hadn't had a smoke for a day and a half. Second-hand, it just wasn't the same. He might have to trade with Dalton for a pack later, maybe cover a shift for him since he wanted to get to the ballgame so badly. He was going on about it right now and-

'Sergeant Anderson and Dalton were sitting at the desks across from me,' Ed said. 'They talked for a long while, but not all the time. Something about the game on Saturday. I didn't listen to the details.'

He paused, frowning at the memory. It had all felt a lot more straightforward then.

'Dalton was excited,' he added.

'Dalton's always excited about the game,' Reese replied with a sigh.

Ed nodded, and was about to added that Leo had been the same when Reese interrupted the thought.

'And what about me?' Reese asked. 'What did I do?'

Ed sensed a trick question.

'Don't you remember?' he asked cautiously. Carl gave a playful smile, making Ed feel less certain about whether it was a trick question or if Reese was just testing him for fun.

'It's about what you remember, kid,' he said.

'Well…' Ed drew a breath. It was getting easier to find the information now he was thinking about the situation. 'You spoke to the Lieutenant. The Chief was there for a while too. I didn't hear what you said.'

The papers were dull, and he wished again that he'd grabbed a coffee when he had the chance, to help him keep awake. It was too late now. He didn't want to waste time, the file was thick and he had a lot to get through. He looked up, the Chief was pointing at the layout map, Burwell was on his left and nodding about something, looking more anxious than usual. Reese was on the other side, gazing past the Chief to the window, and looked slightly… bored?

'You kinda stood around. I don't think you were listening.'

Reese gave a sudden snort, and for a second Ed was worried that he'd said something wrong. But it was a snort of amusement; that was obvious from the grin on Carl's face.

'Do not say that in front of the Chief, kid!' he said firmly. 'That was a conversation I would have passed on. Burwell was as nervous as hell about it, he had a lot on the line. I stood it for as long as I could.'

Reese gave him a side-ways look, and suddenly Ed knew what he was going to ask next. He tried not to react, but the name made him wince inside.

'What about Carelli?'

'Leo spoke to Sam,' Ed said slowly. The memory sent a wave of aching weariness through him. Leo had stood near the doorway and chatted to Sam, unaware of what was about to happen. That was their last conversation. Once Sam had walked away, they'd never spoken again.

'What did they say?' Reese asked. 'Do you know?'

Ed shook his head.

'No,' he replied. 'But it was intense. They are always like that.'

Ed almost corrected the tense from "are" to "were", but Carl spoke instead.

'Who else did Carelli speak to?' he asked.

Ed paused then shook his head again, unsure what to say. His emotions were clouding the memories, the terrible knowledge that these were the final few conversations Leo ever had. Less than two hours later he was dead.

'Kid…?'

He couldn't stand Reese asking him again, so Ed forced himself to speak.

'He left the room, when they finished. Sam had walked away. Leo came back a few minutes later. I was reading-'

The notes from the case file were all out of order, and it had taken time to get it straight in his head. The Chief wanted it all collated, especially the bank details and the business contacts so he focused on those first. There was a lot of flicking back and forth between pages. It didn't help that Dalton was still going on about the game, even Anderson was starting to sound a little bored. Jerry had tried to listen in for a while, but he left when Leo came back-

'Leo came back in with Larry, they both had a coffee. Jerry went over to them…'

Ed stopped. In the confusion of what happened afterwards, he'd forgotten about this part of the morning. He was sure he could hear soft laughter from the three of them, and he was just as sure that it was aimed at him. He was getting sick of it, there was only so often he could shrug off the jokes. He just had to ignore them until Larry got bored and found a new target.

There was an unpleasant silence. Ed wasn't sure he could trust himself to speak. Instead he turned to look back out of the window, leaning on his hand again.

'I need to ask you, kid,' Reese said at last. 'Was there anyone else?'

Ed closed his eyes again, dreading the rest of this conversation. But it was best to get it over with.

He stopped paying attention to the others. He was so close to getting the report finished. All he needed was the last few pieces and that would be that. He wanted to get it done before they left, if only so he didn't have to think about it while they were out at the Rum-Runner. He sensed movement, and could hear Dalton and Leo talking, Anderson joined in for a minute then took the chance and escaped. He ignored them, the report was almost done.

'Dalton.' He stopped again, trying to remember. 'Maybe Sergeant Anderson, but I'm not sure. I was so close to finishing the report, I was only thinking about that. I don't know what else happened.'

Reese nodded and gave a heartfelt sigh. Then he grinned.

'See, that wasn't so bad,' he said. 'And you're pretty good at this.'

The sergeant kept speaking, muttered something else about needing answers for when the Chief got back from the Hall of Justice, but Ed didn't listen, caught off-guard by what sounded like a compliment. He had questions, not least why the Chief was so eager to know what went down in the department before they left, but he was in no mood to continue this conversation, feeling drained as well as on edge.

'I might survive as a sergeant yet,' Reese said, grinning. 'So I owe you one, kid. Next time you need cab fare, just let me know.'

Ed felt a lightning-fast stab of embarrassment, but there was no mockery in Carl's tone or manner. He looked relieved, and genuinely happy that Ed had helped him out. It was disconcerting, especially since Ed had previously assumed he'd have to deal with intrusive and personal questions.

There was another silence and Ed waited. Reese didn't say anything, just drove along still looking pleased with himself.

'Um-?' Ed said at last. 'So that's it?'

Reese nodded with that same calm and good-natured air he'd used earlier. Then he looked round at Ed and lifted an eyebrow.

'We're not all like Larry Carr,' he said, not bothering to disguise his dislike of the other man. 'I know he's your friend but… the man's being a jerk. Was he always such a jerk at the Academy?'

Ed nodded with a shrug. Jerk was a good way of describing Larry; it was almost like he couldn't help himself if he saw the opportunity for trouble, especially if Leo or Jerry got involved.

Immediately, Ed's thoughts were drawn back to what had gone down this morning at the boarding house, sending a shiver of worry through him. Thanks to Reese, he'd gotten himself back to town, but now what was he going to do? Reese hadn't asked for a destination and was probably just going to take him back to his rooms on his way to the department.

But he didn't want to go back there just yet. The others would probably be at the wake, but he still didn't feel like going back to his lonely little room just to sit and stare at the walls until dark. It felt like he needed some space to breathe and to think and to try and clear his head.

They drove in silence for a few minutes and Ed realised he was going to have to say something soon. He was nervous, but Reese had been pretty good to him so far.

'Um, Sergeant?' he asked. 'Are you going back to the department?'

Reese nodded.

'I can let you out at your room?'

'No!' Ed replied, too quickly and too loudly. 'No, I mean, not there. Somewhere else.'

'Sure,' Reese said uncertainly. 'If that's what you want. So where'd you wanna go?'

Unexpectedly fazed by the question, Ed hesitated. He had no idea how to answer.

'I don't know,' he admitted. 'But I kinda need a walk.'

'You sure, kid?' Reese replied. 'You not all walked out already?'

Ed hadn't expected the cheeky smile on Reese's face as he spoke, but rather than mockery there was honest concern in his expression. Ed nodded.

'The next block,' Ed said.

'If you're sure.'

'Yes,' he said, this time with more confidence. He was grateful for the ride but he wasn't ready to go back just yet. A walk would help him, it wasn't far and he didn't have to rush.

As asked, Reese pulled the car up at the kerb in the middle of the next block. Ed reached for the door, but didn't get out straight away.

'And I should say thanks,' he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand. 'I mean, for the ride. Both ways. I just, I mean-'

Reese smiled at him, much more warmly than before.

'That's okay, kid,' he said. 'And try not to worry. It'll work out.'

It wasn't the response he'd expected, and Ed stared.

'It'll work out, the Chief will make sure of it,' Reese said firmly. 'Trust me on that score.'

Slowly, Ed climbed out of the car and closed the door, feeling… again he couldn't identify what he was feeling. Reese had sounded very confident. Did Carl know something he didn't?

He watched the Plymouth pull out and disappear into the traffic thinking that so far, today hadn't gone the way he'd expected at all.

"It'll work out. The Chief will make sure of it."

Ed hoped Reese was right.

A/N - See you in a couple of weeks!