Disclaimer: The characters and the concepts of the Sentinel do not belong to me. I'm just
playing with them.
Special Dedication: For my Dad, gone 4 years this March. I still can't believe it and I wish it
was just a dream. I miss you, Dad.
---------------
Say It While You Can
by M.
----------------
Daryl Banks knew something was terribly wrong when he walked into the guidance
counsellor's office and found his mom, a grim faced Jim Ellison and a somber
Blair Sandburg waiting for him.
"Uh oh." He said somewhat ineffectually.
"Oh sweetie..." Joan said, her eyes tear-filled. She rushed forward and hugged
her son. "You'll be ok."
"Mom?" Daryl looked at her in confusion. "What's going on?"
Joan hesitated and looked over at Jim.
The tall detective swallowed heavily.
"Uh...Daryl...its about your father...there's... uh...there's been an
accident...he..." Jim's voice broke slightly. "He didn't make it."
The world around Daryl shattered and time ground to a halt. "What..." He
managed, sinking into the nearest chair. His legs suddenly unable to hold him
up.
"It was a head on collision. The other driver spun out and hit him. He never saw
it coming."
Daryl shifted slightly and rubbed at his face. He was surprised when his hand
came away wet with tears.
A hand gripped his shoulder in a gesture of support.
Blair.
"You'll be ok man," The anthropologist said gently. "You're a strong guy. You've
got a lot of your dad in you."
Daryl forced his rampaging emotions under control. "Um, I'm gonna go to the
bathroom. Wash my face."
"Sure sweetie." His mother nodded.
Daryl shot to his feet and headed into the bathroom next to the office. He
closed the door and leaned against it. "Daddy..." He forced out as the dam
broke.
The days that followed and the things it brought; Cards, flowers, letters and
worst of all...the funeral, were a complete blur.
Of the funeral Daryl remembered little. Aside from Jim and Blair's eulogies he
could barely remember when it started and when it ended. Never mind the people
who attended. He vaguely remembered the officers from Major Crime but that was
it. The rest was a blur. Ironically the only things he remembered clearly were
connected to the two men his father had considered to be his best friends. Jim
and Blair.
It was the longest walk of his life. The walk out of the church behind his
father's casket. He knew without a doubt that there were people watching him.
Some were crying, others were silent but all undoubtably wore the same
expression of grief.
The one expression he did see was Jim's when the detective reached out, as close
to tears as Daryl had ever seen him, and placed one hand on the coffin in silent
farewell. Somehow, without really thinking about it, Daryl knew that would be a
gesture that would stick with him long after everything else was a pain-filled
blur.
That agonized look of disbelief in Jim's eyes. The same look that was in
Daryl's.
The drive to the cemetery was filled with images and memories of his father.
They kept playing in his head like a mini-slide show. Almost tormenting him.
Images from their trip to Peru.
His father's face underwater when they finally got to go scuba diving.
The jokes he and Blair would shoot at Jim and his father for not being able to
keep pace with them during their basketball games.
Bickering about what movie to rent or go see.
'Cooking' dinner. Translation: deciding what toppings to have on their pizza
from Tomas' Pizzeria.
Daryl never noticed when they pulled up to the cemetery.
Like an automaton he got out of the car and followed his mother to the grave
side. He didn't move or speak as the minister said a few words then prayed over
the grave.
It was the most bizarre thing Daryl had ever experienced.
Watching the casket that held his father's body be lowered into the ground.
He couldn't reconcile the fact that the strong, and healthy man that had been,
despite their differences, a rock of stability in his life, was now dead and
being lowered into a grave.
While part of him couldn't believe it was happening the other part wanted to
scream out. Make them pull the casket back up. His dad wasn't in there. He
wasn't dead. He COULDN'T be dead.
Daryl was still staring at the grave when Jim took ahold of his arm and spoke.
"Daryl." He prompted. "C'mon Daryl...C'mon son. Time to get up." He finished in
Simon's deep voice.
Daryl looked at Jim in shock. Only it wasn't Jim. It was his father. "Dad?"
"Yeah Daryl, now come on. We're gonna be late!"
Daryl opened his eyes and stared up at his father in relief. "DAD!"
Simon grinned wryly. "I think we already established that. Now come on. You've
got a dentist's appointment in an hour and your mother will kill me if you're
late." He stepped back then, giving Daryl enough room to stand. "What do you
want to eat?"
"Umm...Toast." Daryl responded.
"Just toast?" Simon's eyes twinkled. "What about the truck load of Wheaties and
20 bags of sugar?"
Daryl grinned. "Very funny dad."
"I know." Simon countered. "I'm a comical genius. Took years of practise to
achieve. You're sure you only want toast?"
"Yep. I'm not very hungry this morning."
"A'right." Simon agreed, heading for the door.
"Dad?" Simon turned.
"I...ah...I love you." Daryl blurted out. Just needing to make sure his father
knew how he felt. "I mean. I know we don't always agree on stuff but...I...Ah..I
just wanted to tell you."
Simon blinked. Obviously surprised at his son's statement. "Thanks Daryl. I love
you too." He hesitated for a moment. "I guess I don't say it as much as I
should..."
"No." Daryl protested. "You do say it. Just not in words." He smiled. "Trust me
dad I get the message loud and clear whether you say it in words or actions. I
always know and I guess I wanted to make sure you did to." With that he walked
over and hugged his father. The image of the casket was still fresh in his mind
and caused him to tighten his grip. Reassuring himself his father was definitely
alive.
Simon returned the hug with as much ferocity as his son gave it. He had no idea
what had triggered the admission of love from Daryl but he certainly wasn't
going to question it.
Moments such as the one he found himself in were getting rarer and rarer as time
went by. They were to be treasured and remembered with care.
Daryl's hold on him gradually loosened until he finally stepped back. "I...umm..
Better get dressed. Don't want trouble with mom."
Simon grinned. "No sir." He stepped toward the door. "Daryl?"
"Yeah Dad?" Daryl looked up from his drawer.
Simon smiled warmly at his son. "It is good to hear it sometimes."
Daryl beamed at him. "You're welcome dad."
Simon nodded and disappeared into the hall.
Daryl leaned across the bed for his watch and in doing so, put his hand on his
pillow.
It was wet with tears. Tears he hopefully wouldn't have to shed again for a very
long time.
playing with them.
Special Dedication: For my Dad, gone 4 years this March. I still can't believe it and I wish it
was just a dream. I miss you, Dad.
---------------
Say It While You Can
by M.
----------------
Daryl Banks knew something was terribly wrong when he walked into the guidance
counsellor's office and found his mom, a grim faced Jim Ellison and a somber
Blair Sandburg waiting for him.
"Uh oh." He said somewhat ineffectually.
"Oh sweetie..." Joan said, her eyes tear-filled. She rushed forward and hugged
her son. "You'll be ok."
"Mom?" Daryl looked at her in confusion. "What's going on?"
Joan hesitated and looked over at Jim.
The tall detective swallowed heavily.
"Uh...Daryl...its about your father...there's... uh...there's been an
accident...he..." Jim's voice broke slightly. "He didn't make it."
The world around Daryl shattered and time ground to a halt. "What..." He
managed, sinking into the nearest chair. His legs suddenly unable to hold him
up.
"It was a head on collision. The other driver spun out and hit him. He never saw
it coming."
Daryl shifted slightly and rubbed at his face. He was surprised when his hand
came away wet with tears.
A hand gripped his shoulder in a gesture of support.
Blair.
"You'll be ok man," The anthropologist said gently. "You're a strong guy. You've
got a lot of your dad in you."
Daryl forced his rampaging emotions under control. "Um, I'm gonna go to the
bathroom. Wash my face."
"Sure sweetie." His mother nodded.
Daryl shot to his feet and headed into the bathroom next to the office. He
closed the door and leaned against it. "Daddy..." He forced out as the dam
broke.
The days that followed and the things it brought; Cards, flowers, letters and
worst of all...the funeral, were a complete blur.
Of the funeral Daryl remembered little. Aside from Jim and Blair's eulogies he
could barely remember when it started and when it ended. Never mind the people
who attended. He vaguely remembered the officers from Major Crime but that was
it. The rest was a blur. Ironically the only things he remembered clearly were
connected to the two men his father had considered to be his best friends. Jim
and Blair.
It was the longest walk of his life. The walk out of the church behind his
father's casket. He knew without a doubt that there were people watching him.
Some were crying, others were silent but all undoubtably wore the same
expression of grief.
The one expression he did see was Jim's when the detective reached out, as close
to tears as Daryl had ever seen him, and placed one hand on the coffin in silent
farewell. Somehow, without really thinking about it, Daryl knew that would be a
gesture that would stick with him long after everything else was a pain-filled
blur.
That agonized look of disbelief in Jim's eyes. The same look that was in
Daryl's.
The drive to the cemetery was filled with images and memories of his father.
They kept playing in his head like a mini-slide show. Almost tormenting him.
Images from their trip to Peru.
His father's face underwater when they finally got to go scuba diving.
The jokes he and Blair would shoot at Jim and his father for not being able to
keep pace with them during their basketball games.
Bickering about what movie to rent or go see.
'Cooking' dinner. Translation: deciding what toppings to have on their pizza
from Tomas' Pizzeria.
Daryl never noticed when they pulled up to the cemetery.
Like an automaton he got out of the car and followed his mother to the grave
side. He didn't move or speak as the minister said a few words then prayed over
the grave.
It was the most bizarre thing Daryl had ever experienced.
Watching the casket that held his father's body be lowered into the ground.
He couldn't reconcile the fact that the strong, and healthy man that had been,
despite their differences, a rock of stability in his life, was now dead and
being lowered into a grave.
While part of him couldn't believe it was happening the other part wanted to
scream out. Make them pull the casket back up. His dad wasn't in there. He
wasn't dead. He COULDN'T be dead.
Daryl was still staring at the grave when Jim took ahold of his arm and spoke.
"Daryl." He prompted. "C'mon Daryl...C'mon son. Time to get up." He finished in
Simon's deep voice.
Daryl looked at Jim in shock. Only it wasn't Jim. It was his father. "Dad?"
"Yeah Daryl, now come on. We're gonna be late!"
Daryl opened his eyes and stared up at his father in relief. "DAD!"
Simon grinned wryly. "I think we already established that. Now come on. You've
got a dentist's appointment in an hour and your mother will kill me if you're
late." He stepped back then, giving Daryl enough room to stand. "What do you
want to eat?"
"Umm...Toast." Daryl responded.
"Just toast?" Simon's eyes twinkled. "What about the truck load of Wheaties and
20 bags of sugar?"
Daryl grinned. "Very funny dad."
"I know." Simon countered. "I'm a comical genius. Took years of practise to
achieve. You're sure you only want toast?"
"Yep. I'm not very hungry this morning."
"A'right." Simon agreed, heading for the door.
"Dad?" Simon turned.
"I...ah...I love you." Daryl blurted out. Just needing to make sure his father
knew how he felt. "I mean. I know we don't always agree on stuff but...I...Ah..I
just wanted to tell you."
Simon blinked. Obviously surprised at his son's statement. "Thanks Daryl. I love
you too." He hesitated for a moment. "I guess I don't say it as much as I
should..."
"No." Daryl protested. "You do say it. Just not in words." He smiled. "Trust me
dad I get the message loud and clear whether you say it in words or actions. I
always know and I guess I wanted to make sure you did to." With that he walked
over and hugged his father. The image of the casket was still fresh in his mind
and caused him to tighten his grip. Reassuring himself his father was definitely
alive.
Simon returned the hug with as much ferocity as his son gave it. He had no idea
what had triggered the admission of love from Daryl but he certainly wasn't
going to question it.
Moments such as the one he found himself in were getting rarer and rarer as time
went by. They were to be treasured and remembered with care.
Daryl's hold on him gradually loosened until he finally stepped back. "I...umm..
Better get dressed. Don't want trouble with mom."
Simon grinned. "No sir." He stepped toward the door. "Daryl?"
"Yeah Dad?" Daryl looked up from his drawer.
Simon smiled warmly at his son. "It is good to hear it sometimes."
Daryl beamed at him. "You're welcome dad."
Simon nodded and disappeared into the hall.
Daryl leaned across the bed for his watch and in doing so, put his hand on his
pillow.
It was wet with tears. Tears he hopefully wouldn't have to shed again for a very
long time.