A Broken Man

It has been six years. Six years since the day Jamie Reagan has disappeared without a trace. His father detective Reagan did everything he could to find the boy but without any success. Those within the NYPD kept saying that the broken man would turn the entire New York upside down if it would help him to bring his little boy home. But the truth was that no matter how much Frank Reagan kept telling himself that his son was alive, deep inside he knew that the odds were against him. He knew well the changes that Jamie could be alive were pretty small. Yet, the grieving father never lost hope that one day they will find Jamie. His wife Mary spent days crying after their youngest son disappeared out of sudden. She would stay in the bedroom all day long crying. And this would have repeated every single day for several weeks until eventually one day she got out of her room and put all her effort to help those in need as part of their community service. Although her husband was glad that she found something to keep her busy every now, and then he woke up in the middle of the night with Mary being absent from their bed. He often found her in Jamie's room holding their son's favorite stuffed teddy bear crying. In moments like that he used to come to her, embracing her around her shoulders so they could share their grief. There was nothing that could make the pain of losing a child go away. But to make things even worse. Five years after Jamie disappeared Mary was diagnosed with breast cancer, and a few months later she was too gone and Frank who in the meantime became the chief of police was left alone with his grief.

***BB***

"Hey, gramps, it's me," detective Daniel Reagan told his grandfather as he made his regular call to check up on their father.

"I thought it would be you," the former commissioner replied with a sad smile. Danny who has never been punctual was now regular as clockwork.

There was a brief silence before Danny spoke again.

"So, how is he?" He wanted to know.

"The same," his grandfather uttered sadly. "He is trying to pull on a brave face, but deep inside he is devastated."

The young detective sighed heavily.

"Does he at least take the pills the doctor prescribed him?" He wanted to know.

"Well, he takes the pills for his blood pressure, but he won't take the sleeping pills as far as I'm concerned," the former commissioner stated as he shook his head with disagreement.

"Damn it, the old man is just stubborn as a bull...," the young man cursed angrily. Ever since they lost Jamie, he could observe how his parent's overall wellbeing was fading away but now with his mum gone the detective was seriously worried that the one they will be burying next would be their father unless something happens that could help him to ease the pain.

"Danny, your father needs time to come in peace with your mother's death on his speed and under his condition..., we all do!" The Reagan patriarch stated sadly. "You can't rush these things."

"I know, pops. I know." The detective nodded his head in agreement. "I wish there was something I could do, you know. I hate feeling so hopeless..."

"I know what you are talking about," Henry uttered before he and Danny said their goodbyes.

***BB***

The commissioner was sitting behind his desk in his office, going through some old files piled up in front of him when he caught himself that he wasn't paying attention to what was written in them. He wasn't paying attention to anything today for it has been exactly six years since his youngest son Jameson "Jamie" disappeared. The commissioner has spent the last six years thinking about his son every single day.

Where was he?

Was he alright?

Or was he dead?

And if he was dead, how come they haven't found his body yet?

Maybe knowing Jamie was no longer alive would be more merciful for the grieving parent than the constant uncertainty. But somewhere deep inside Frank Reagan still believed his son was alive. He must have been somewhere out there. Yet, he was unable to find him. He, his father who at the same time was among the NYPD's finest was unable to find him.

Commissioner's sight fell on the picture that stood in front of him. The picture showed his wife Mary and him with their youngest son on the occasion of Jamie's first school day. Frank took the frame into his hands carefully, giving it a sad look. Not only has he lost his beloved son, but less a few months ago he also lost his beloved wife too.

The broken man sighed heavily as he watched the two beloved family members who have been both taken away from him so soon with deep sorrow. He was thinking how unfair life has been to him when he got interrupted from his thoughts by someone knocking on his door and shortly after his friend DCPI Garrett Moore peaked into his office.

"Baker told me you were still here," he explained when he spotted the commissioner sitting behind his desk with the photo frame in his hands. He didn't need to ask what the Frank was looking at. He knew that picture far too well. The picture that showed his beloved wife and their little boy with that big goofy smile.

"Why don't you go home, Frank?" Garrett asked his friend worriedly as he walked closer to his desk.

"You know what day is today, right?" The commissioner asked as he slowly raised his eyes from the picture.

"Of course, I do," Garrett nodded his head sadly. "That's also why I came to check on you."

"Well, here I am," Frank replied. "I'm still vertical, so according to my book I'm fine."

Both men stayed silent for a while both lost in their memories before Frank spoke again.

"He would have been sixteen this year," he uttered, his voice was barely a whisper. "He would have been at high school, playing baseball and perhaps chasing after girls," the commissioner stated hopefully.

Garrett laughed lightly as he imagined Jamie chasing after girls.

"Do you think it will get ever easier?" He asked his friend compassionately, being well aware that the last six years were a nightmare for the commissioner.

"I'm afraid not," Frank shook his head sadly, "...you never really get over losing a child. Especially, when it's your own child," he sighed heavily.