Author's comments: I have to set one thing straight; English is not my mothertounge, neither my second language, so there may be some errors here and there. I have spell- and grammar checked the text in MSWord about a thousand times and my best friend has beta-read it, but I'm pretty sure there still are flaws. Try and bear it, please!
To avoid any confusion - italic text (not the song lyrics, obviously) is flashbacks, or actually it's easier to put it like this; everything that is not italics are things told by Hank, in the next chapter it'll be by Sheridan, and everything italic are things that happened in the past.
A big NOTE: The Shuis story in this story is not like everything seen on Passions (not the Diana-thing, for example). Sheridan POV - chapter will explain any confusion!!

The song used in this story is "I'll be missing you" by Puff Daddy featuring Faith Evans. I know it's not in its right order, but this way it fitted better.

And, at last, of course I own nothing of this, so do not sue me!

LOST, NOT GONE

Every day I wake up
I hope I'm dreaming
I can't believe this
Can't believe you ain't here

I have been on the force for quite a few years now, and I had never had second thoughts about my choice of career. This was where I belonged – even if it took its sweet time to realize it. I belong at the station, or out in the cold reality. It's not like the many cop films capture it. I believe it's worse, but it never really bothered me. I have seen armed robbers, caught killers in the last minute, seen dead people, often badly injured or abused. None of that ever really got to me.
Not until a certain day five years ago. I will never forget that day, not for as long as I live.

Seems like yesterday we used to rock the show
I laced the track, you locked the flow
So far from hanging on the block for dough
Notorious, they got to know that
Life ain't always what it seem to be

February 19th 2002 was the first day ever I doubted the use of myself or any other officer on the force. What use could possibly anybody have of us when innocent people have to give up their lives and we still are unable to catch the ones behind it?
I was about to quit when I realized that it would not have been the right thing to do. I couldn't just give up, just let them run.
I owed him that. I owed it to Sheridan and Daniel too. But above all I owed it to Luis.
I could not let the man who killed him run.

I remember that day so clearly, as if it was yesterday though it is almost five years ago. Five summers and five winters have passed by, but neither the soft summer rain nor the cold blizzards have been able to wash away the memories.

We were at the wharf, and had been there for several hours already in the rainy weather. We were getting tired and uninterested in wherever this case was going to take its turn, as long as we got home. Luis was worried about Sheridan being alone, as he always was these days.

I knew he wasn't happy about being there that night. He had had to leave her alone in the night, something he had hated to do ever since she fell in the stairs and almost lost the baby in early November. It was only a few weeks left now, and then he'd be a father. They already knew it was a son. His name would be Daniel.

The case didn't seem very interesting. Just some gang that apparently scared the crap out of people in the neighbourhood with their yelling and fighting on the streets in the middle of the night. We had been called in on them before, but never been able to catch a single one. It was very frustrating, being defeated by a group of teenagers night after night. But we knew that they eventually would make a mistake, probably soon, because they thought they were invincible. We just had to wait for that to happen.

And, then finally we heard them coming. The same loud screaming and yelling, bottles being shattered to the ground and even more yelling. I thought I heard gunshots, but maybe that was only my mind that warned me about what was to come.

I turned off the car engine and sighed deeply when I saw the first of the gang members. His name was Tony and he had been a year above my nieces in school when he dropped out last year. His whole life had been a mess since his father died in a fight between some drug dealers in whose busniess he had been involved. Apparently his son was about to take the same road down now.
Luis sighed too. He had been trying to help Tony at the Youth Center, but not fully gotten through to him.
"Great," he sighed. "I'll try and talk to him."

We stepped out of the car. They had seen us now, and stood a few meters in front of us, not really knowing whether to run or to face the fact that they finally had been caught.
Tony stopped when he saw Luis walking up to him. He showed his bare hands to Tony, to proof to him that he was unarmed. We could all see that the 'tough-guy' attitude Tony always had had was starting to disappear. Probably because he was scared to death of what his grandfather was going to say when he heard that he had been caught. Maybe he was relieved too. Relieved to finally be rid of this front that probably was a big burden for him.
He listened distinctively to everything Luis said, as if he repeated it in his mind to convince himself that Luis was right. Finally he took a few steps forward, towards Luis and the rest of us. He pulled out his gun from his coat and was just about to drop it on the ground when one of the guys behind him yelled that he would be dead if he did it.

Two of his 'friends' drew their guns and pointed at Tony. It was like all of us there could hear his heart beat and feel his dilemma as he looked around him; first at his friends behind him, then at Luis in front of him who still hadn't moved one inch and looked straight at him. I could hear that both Sam and Quinland cocked their guns, just in case.

A few minutes that felt like years went by, then Tony dropped the gun and lifted his hands above his head as to show his buddies that the game was lost.

Everything happened so fast. Tony screamed when he heard guns both behind and in front of him being cocked, a guy a few years older than him screamed when Sam locked his arms behind him with a cop grip and hand cuffs, the guys still free started running in different directions.
We started to run after them of course, but I didn't take many steps before I heard two bullets being fired. As in slow motion, I turned around. It seemed as if no one else had heard the bullets, I was the only one reacting.

When I turned around I saw Luis lying on the ground.

Reminisce some time, the night they took my friend
Try to black it out, but it plays again
When it's real, feelings hard to conceal
Can't imagine all the pain I feel
Give anything to hear half your breath
I know you still living your life, after death

My world stopped turning, as I knew it then, when I saw Luis lying there, right where he had been standing when he spoke to Tony. One of the bullets had gone right through his shoulder; the second was the one that had done most damage by hitting his chest.
I ran to him, faster than I have ever run before. I kept telling myself that this wasn't it, that I was wrong, that my eyes were playing tricks on me. It wasn't Luis lying there, shot twice with life leaving his body, maybe faster than I could reach him.
When I had only two or three steps left to where he was lying I called out his name, as to wake him up.

"Luis! Luis!"
I knelt down next to him and bent over him. I started searching for his pulse and could feel his weak breathing when I leaned over him. He slowly opened his eyes and tried to focus them on me. The more he came to, the more pain he apparently felt in the wounds. I could see how he desperately tried to hang in there, but what an impossible thing that was. He kept opening and closing his eyes, a lame attempt to get the pain to go away.

I suppose that in that moment, we both knew that this was it. But at least not I wanted to admit it. I kept talking to him while I tried to stop the bleeding with my uniform coat, saying nonsensical things like "you're gonna be OK"…"just hang in there, buddy…" But he saw right through me, then as so many times before.

"You have to promise me something, Hank…"
I shook my head and pressed my coat tighter against the wound on his chest. The coat was already red of blood. Too much was pounding out of his chest, and crying I subconsciously understood that the bullet must have gone straight through his aorta; the blood pounded in the same rhythm as his heart beat.
"No! No near-death promises here, you're going to be just fine! I'm not gonna let you…-"

He reached for my hand. With my whole body shaking both of the cold water pouring down over me from heaven and the fear, I took it. In a final effort he took a breath as deep as he could.

"Tell Sheridan I love her… That I always will…" he said, almost as a whisper.
"I will." I nodded with tears all over my face. This really was it – I knew it.
He looked relieved and tried to inhale again, but this time he couldn't – the oxide was almost gone from his lungs.

"… one more thing," he said hoarsely with his eyes closed.
"Anything"
"Take care of her and Daniel…"
He opened his eyes to hear my reply.

Right in that moment I didn't realize how big impact my last promise to Luis would have on my life, but I didn't care then and I still don't.

I nodded again and squeezed his hand.
"I will. I promise, I will"
"Thank you," he said and closed his eyes for what would be the last time.

When I realized that he wasn't talking to me anymore I started yelling his name again, over and over again, and I shook his shoulders in a desperate attempt to wake him up.

My cries and yells made the others come running towards us, and when they saw Luis lying there without moving I could see the terrified looks on their faces. Both of them immediately understood what had happened. How could they not, with the wounds in his chest and shoulder and the blood coloured snow underneath and around him.
Sam knelt down on Luis's other side and started searching for his pulse. When he didn't find it he swore out aloud and, panic stricken, he started doing CPR.
Quinland took one look at Luis's body before he ran to the car and called for the ambulance, the D.A, the President or God knows whom on the radio – I wasn't listening. But, since the ambulance was what arrived later and not the President, I suppose the ambulance was what he had called for.
I remember telling Sam coldly that it was no use in doing CPR; Luis was already gone. When he stopped I completely broke down. I threw myself over the man that had been my best friend since the day I met him at the age of one, and I cried. I cried and damned myself for all the times I had fought with him, for my irrational behaviour in his and Sheridan's early days, simply for every bad thing I had said to him in my whole life.

Now when I think about it; it wasn't probably very masculine to do what I did. To break down so completely, instead of at least acting, if not being, cool, as Quinland. He just sat there in the car, not able to step out. Well, later I have been told that when the ambulance drove away with the sirens turned off, as to pay its respects, he stumbled out of the car and threw up in a ditch close by.

I laid like that, my face buried in the not wounded part of Luis's chest, until the ambulance arrived. When Eve stepped out and gently straightened me up I had no tears left, I just lied there, totally paralysed and wept quietly. Sam stood where he had been standing ever since he rose after stopping CPR, and stared in front of him. No at Luis or me, not at Eve either, just straight in front of him.

I'm still not sure why Eve was there in the ambulance, instead of just the paramedics. I think that Quinland had said who the killed was, and that she had wanted to come there herself since she knew Pilar so well. I don't know, and I haven't asked. I don't think I will either, after all – what does it matter? But I'm glad that she was the one to pronounce the time of death and taking care of everything that needed to be taken care of, instead of some unfamiliar doctor we'd only see then and never again. It felt more personal and less clinic this way. I think Luis would have liked the way everything was handled.

I heard Sam murmur a Spanish prayer Pilar once had taught him as Eve did the final examination and pronouncing, and we both stood there in front of the car and watched how the paramedics put Luis on a stretcher and slowly carried him to the ambulance. Quinland was still sitting as paralysed behind the wheel, but probably looking he too.

Right then, when the only sign left of what had happened just a few minutes ago was the bloody snow, I felt awfully calm. People tell me that it was because of the shock, but I'm not so sure. I believe that the best thing I could have done was exactly what I did; to get to face the tragedy on location and to get to be with him in his last minutes of this life. I'm just sorry for that I was the one getting to do that. Sheridan should have been, not I. Now she learned what happened in the usual, but a thousand times worse way.

As the ambulance disappeared and Quinland got out of the car and towards the ditch, both Sam and I thought of the same things.
How the hell were we supposed to tell Sheridan? Or Pilar, Miguel and Theresa?

If this had been a, for us, normal case, with an unfamiliar victim and unfamiliar relatives, we would have gone home to his wife and called the rest of the family. That was our routine, but now we couldn't possibly do that. Either of us had to tell Sheridan face to face that her son never would meet his father, the other had to tell Pilar that she had lost a second son.

"Will you tell Pilar?" Sam asked me.

I suppose he still desperately tried to look at this case as a normal one. In that case he, as the Chief of Police, should have been the one to tell the wife, the closest relative. But now it didn't fit.

"No. I have to tell Sheridan. I promised him," I said, nodding towards where Luis had been lying.
Sam just nodded in agreement, and I left.

It was not only because of what I had promised Luis that I wanted to be the one to tell Sheridan. It was also because I had a feeling that I wouldn't be able to face Pilar right now, not with these news. She had always been like a mother to me, and I had always seen Luis as a brother. Sometimes even more like a brother than Sam, due to the age difference between us. I thought it would be easier on both Sheridan and me if I were the one to tell her. She knew me better than Sam, and I loved her. Not like I had done before, more like a brother loves a sister.

When I turned in my car on Luis and Sheridan's driveway I felt the pain from before come back. The house was all lightened up; I knew it was because Luis had told her to keep the lights on so that no one would suspect she was alone.
I parked the car and before I even got up to the door I could see it being opened.

Later Sheridan told me that she had been standing in the window in the hall, and when she saw the police car pull up in front of the house she of course thought I was Luis. That also explained the very surprised look on her face when she saw me – and before she saw my bloody coat.

"Hank?" she asked surprised, still smiling though. She was wearing an old worn out par of jeans and a blue shirt I recognized as Luis's. Her own shirts didn't fit her anymore.
"What are you doing here at this hour?"
"What?" I stupidly asked and slowly walked up to her.
"It's one am," she smiled.
"I'm sorry," I said and stepped into the light of the open door.
"I'm so sorry Sheridan..."

I don't think either of us would remember exactly what happened next. She of course saw the blood on my coat, my read eyes and the grey shadow on my face; I saw the terrified look on hers when she realized what had happened.

"No…" she whispered with her hands over her mouth and tears welling out of her eyes.

Why do always the relatives realize what has happened before you tell them? It's the most terrible part of bringing the news of one of their beloved being killed, either in an accident or then intentionally by someone else. You don't know what to say next, you just stand there, as paralysed. They have already figured things out, and aren't listening to you anymore anyhow. You just fulfil your duties, telling them when, how and where, and then you leave. Then you leave it to them, or maybe a priest, to take care of. Your duties are done.

But mine wouldn't be done in a long time. With Sheridan and Luis I couldn't just walk away after telling her that her husband had been shot twice at the wharf by some damn teenager, I had to stay there and take care of her, tell her that he loved her and always would no matter where he was now.
I had promised him that.

She just stood there, more inside the house than out in the garden, still staring at me with a terrified look in her eyes.
"No!!" She screamed and trembled on her feet. She would have fallen if I hadn't caught her in the last minute. I wrapped my arms around her and held her as she cried.
"No... Not Luis…!!"

Somehow I managed to get us inside, shut the door and briefly tell her what had happened. Still in shock and with tears running down her cheeks she asked if he had suffered, been in a lot of pain, and despite what I had seen, I told her that I didn't think so. She didn't need to know.
Then she asked me if he had said anything before he died.

I looked at her for a minute before I answered.
"Luis told me to do two things," I said.
"What things?" she asked where she sat on the couch, exactly where I had put her down after carrying her into the livingroom when her feet wouldn't carry her anymore.
"The first thing was to tell you that he loved you. He wanted to make sure that you knew that he loved you…"
Tears started to fall from her eyes, and I could see that she was swallowing hard again. She had been doing that a while now.
"What was the other one?" she then asked me.

I remember taking a deep breath. What if she thought that I had come up with this myself, because I maybe still had feelings for her? What if she would forbid me to do it? I realized that right now I could have told her almost anything, and no one could have proved that I was lying to her.

" He…- Luis told me to take care of you, Sheridan. He wanted me to take care of you and… and Daniel…"

She looked at me, swallowing even harder. She closed her eyes to calm down what I now realized was nausea before she rushed up and ran to the bathroom. I ran after her and stroke her hair as she threw up, and afterwards she, totally exhausted, leaned back against my chest and closed her eyes.
She was still breathing heavily and I made myself ready for another attack. It came a few minutes later, this time the vomit was as much tars and pain as anything else.
When she was finished this time she just cried.

"I love him so much…" she wept.
"He can't be gone… he CAN'T! He promised never to leave me…"

When she said the last she was shaking like a leaf, and no calming word I said would get through to her. She was as in her own world, just surrounded by pain, pain and pain.

"Did you know that Daniel was conceived on our wedding night?" she suddenly asked me.
"No, I didn't," I said, stroking her hair. She seemed calmer, but I had my doubts that she was still in the worst part of the shock. The real pain and the real tears would come later.
"Well, he was," she said with a smile. "Just as it's supposed to be"
I laughed a little at her last comment.
"But you weren't a virgin then, were you?"
She laughed too.
"No… Not quite."
Then I could feel her body shake again, almost cramping. She almost hit her head against the bathtub when I almost lost my grip around her waist.
"I want him to be here…" she cried out desperatly with the tears filling her eyes. "I don't want to be without him..."

She cried more and more, and I didn't know what to do. I realized that she probably would want to go and see Luis one last time, but she was in no state to do it now. It would be a major risk for both her and baby Daniel if I took her to the hospital now. Torn apart by my dilemma, the loss of my best friend and the sight of his almost hysterical widow, I started crying myself.

I don't know just how long we were sitting there at the bathroom floor. Probably for many hours. My own tears slowly faded, but Sheridan's never seemed to. She was totally crushed, almost unable to reach out to.

When I managed to put myself together enough, I carried her to their bedroom and wrapped a blanket around her. She was almost asleep, but still sobbing. I turned the picture of their wedding she had on her nightstand towards her so that she could look at it and see him, and then I stepped out of the room. I knew I couldn't leave her alone, but I couldn't stand being inside that room that had harboured so much of their love.

I went out in the livingroom and lit a candle next to a framed photo of Luis in his uniform. The rest of the night I spent sitting on the couch, watching the candle burn down.

Every step I take, every move I make
Every single day, every time I pray
I'll be missing you
Thinking of the day, when you went away
What a life to take, what a bond to break
I'll be missing you

The next morning I had almost dozed off when I saw Sheridan standing in front of me in the living room. She still had the blanket around her, and her eyes were red with dark circles. I doubted that she hadn't gotten very much sleep either.

"I want him to have a candle," she said in a thick voice and pointed at the picture on the coffee table where I had put it last night. I was about to say that he had one when I realized that it was completely burned down.

A few minutes later I was on my way downtown in my car, since they didn't have any more candles at home I had to buy one. When I passed by the Youth Center on my way to Grace's shop I could see how people were putting flowers and burning candles on the ground in front of the door.

When I told Sheridan about the candles and flowers at the Center she started to cry. But these tears were of gratefulness. Gratefulness towards the people who had appreciated all the hard work he had put down all his life.

As the day went by candels and flowers started to gather on the driveway up to the house too. On Sheridan's wish I went out a few times to thank them, she couldn't bring herself to leave the livingroom. She sat on the couch for hours with her legs dragged up and her arms wrapped around them, still wearing the same clothes as last night. She kept staring at the picture on the table until her eyes almost collapsed of tiredness. Then she picked it up and held it tight against her chest while she cried quietly, totally exhausted.

That day was plain terror for both of us. Apparently Luis's death had become some national news headline, because suddenly the whole garden was filled with people from every TV station I could come up with. The whole day features from Harmony filled the news – pictures from the wharf, of the house, even of Pilar's house. When I heard the phrase "he was going to be a father for the first time in only a few weeks…" for the sixtieth time I called Sam and made him and Quinland come and drive away the photographers by force.

When they finally left I had even seen Luis and Sheridan's wedding picture been spread out into the ether. God knows how they found it. I don't think I want to know.

I never left the house after those days. I stayed there with Sheridan. I left Sam and Grace's and moved into what had been Sheridan and Luis's guestroom. That I would take the guestroom was totally clear to both of us – I would never have dreamed of taking Luis's bed, and I still, after five years, can't.

The funeral was three days later. It was beautiful. It was beautiful, but terrible.

The coffin was dark brown, and half covered with the American, Spanish and Irish flags. Sam, Quinland, three other officers and I carried it into the church. Behind us followed Sheridan and Pilar, both they and Theresa were wearing black lace mourning veils over their hair, and black shawls over their shoulders. Theresa and Miguel came two steps behind their mother and Sheridan. I could see that Theresa squeezed Miguel's hand hard during the whole ceremony, scared of loosing him too.

To me it seemed like everybody was there. Everybody from the station, everybody, including Sam and myself, dressed in our parade uniform. Even the D.A had come from Boston. All the teenagers from the Youth Center, and the parents of the younger children were there too. Everybody from our graduating class. Miguel and Theresa's friends. People from the Police Academy.

Ivy, Ethan and Gwen didn't make much noise of themselves, but they were there. They had taken their seats apart from the family; until Father Lonagin read the letter we from the force had put together to honour Luis. Then Ethan came forth and took his crying aunt into his arms, and sat with her the rest of the mass.
Sheridan was strong most of the time through the ceremony, but when it was time for the interment and the very last goodbyes, she started shaking helplessly again. With Ethan on one side and me on the other she managed to pull through with the trip down to the open grave, crying all along. Her hands were shaking like autumn leaves when she dropped a single red rose down on the coffin.

I could hear her shaky "I love you" before I dropped down my own rose.

When I looked up again it was to see what had gotten the people behind me to start whispering and nodding towards the cemetery gates I saw Antonio slowly walking up towards us. A Hispanic woman followed him a few steps behind, later I would learn that her name was Carmen and that she was his wife. They walked up to where Sheridan and I were standing; he took Sheridan's hand and said he was sorry. When it was time for Pilar, Miguel and Theresa to walk up to the open grave, Theresa pulled him with them.

I saw your son today
He look just like you
You were the greatest
You'll always be the greatest
I miss you
Can't wait 'til that day, when I see your face again

Daniel was born two weeks after the funeral. Pilar and I were with Sheridan during the birth. In his father's name I cut the navel string. When Eve gave Daniel to Sheridan, all cleaned up and wrapped in a blanket, my heart totally broke. All the feelings I for Sheridan's sake had pushed down deep inside now came up to the surface and out of my eyes.

We all cried a lot that night.

Pilar said a very beautiful thing about Luis giving his life for Daniel to be born as healthy and good as he was. I don't quite know if I believe that, but it's a wonderful thought that still sometimes comforts me when I look at Daniel. It can be really painful sometimes. He's so much like Luis, both on the outside and the inside. I know that Sheridan is very happy about that, it keeps his memory alive, but to me it only brings pain. But I love Daniel, no doubt about that. He is my son, and he will always be.

Through your family, I'll fulfil your dream
In the future, can't wait to see
If you open up the gates for me

Just a few hours after the birth the adoption papers were ready. When I signed them I felt incredibly happy – I knew that Luis's worst nightmare always had been to become his father, to abandon his kids as he had been abandoned. With my name on those papers Daniel would never be without a father.

I know that people who don't know us have problems with how we live, but I try not to care. I have kept the promise I gave Luis that rainy February night, and I have gotten a son.

Sheridan and I decided right from the start never to hide the fact that I'm not Daniel's biological father from him or anyone else. I don't know if he himself really realizes yet exactly what that means, but when that day comes, I'll be ready to answer his questions. They have already started coming, slowly but surely. The questions about the last names were first. He saw me writing my name on something once, and realized that I didn't have the same long and hard-spelled last name as he and his mother.

"Why did you write that, daddy," he asked and pointed at 'Bennett'.

He calls me 'daddy' and Luis 'papa'. I'm not sure where he's gotten that from, but I think Pilar has taught it to him, as so much else. The kid spoke better Spanish than I at the age of three.

"It's my name," I simply said.
"Why don't you have papa's name," he asked and looked at me with his big eyes I swear comes from Theresa.
"Well…" I said and picked him up. "You know that mummy and I aren't married?" I asked him.
"Mark's mom and dad aren't either," he said.

Mark is Daniel's best friend. His parents have lived together since high school but, according to the grapevine, their religions are so different that neither accepts the other as a partner.

"No… I know. But it's not quite the same as mummy and me…" I began, and made a stop to try and think of what to say next. Daniel jut sat patiently in my lap, waiting for a further explanation.
"Papa and mummy were married. They still are, even though papa doesn't live anymore."

I always preferred to say; "doesn't live anymore" instead of "is dead". I think it's easier on a five-year old. But he knows Luis is dead; he surely does that. Sheridan uses to take him with her to the grave ever week, so that he can tell him about what he's been up to since they 'spoke' last. He still feels that it's totally normal, but I think that he'll see it differently soon.

"Mummy got papas last name when they marred, and when you were born you got the same. But since I'm not really your family, I have my own. You know, the same name aunt Theresa has now when she married uncle Noah."
Daniel looked closely at me for a few seconds, then he heard the signature to his favourite TV-program and ran into the livingroom – not troubled for a second about his somewhat crazy family situation.

When I turned around on my chair I saw Sheridan standing in the door. I saw that she tried to smile, but since she had heard everything; she still cried.

I'm still worried about her sometimes. Surely she's over the worst pain and grief, but I still in this day have never seen her wear anything else than black. Always the same - the black top and the black pants, and Luis's wedding band on a golden chain around her neck. She's lost too much weight – before Daniel was born I somehow managed to force her into eating for his sake, but nowadays it's not that good. She says she has no appetite, and only eats to make me stop worring.

It's kinda hard with you not around
Know you in heaven smiling down
Watching us while we pray for you
Every day we pray for you
'Til the day we meet again
In my heart is where I'll keep you friend
Memories give me the strength I need to proceed
Strength I need to believe

She is strong. I know she is. Otherwise she would never have managed to give birth to and raise Daniel with me and not with Luis. But God do I know she still misses him. I can hear her cry sometimes, late at night when Daniel is asleep. I never go inside the bedroom. I have barely been in there since the night Luis died, but I have been standing in the door several times, so I know how she sleeps. She's always lying in the middle of the bed with her face turned to the side that once was Luis's. I'm not even sure if she has changed the sheets in his bed. I have my suspicions she hasn't, but she doesn't sleep in them anyway so what difference does it really make?

His clothes are still left in their closet, even though I managed to get all his papers and other stuff carried down to the basement. I don't think it's very healthy for Daniel to grow up in a home so filled with his dead father's spirit.
But, of course it's still here. The candle I lit that February night is still burning every night, just exchanged in for a new one every once in a while. This home is run on traditions. We're all just as crazy. It's not just the fact that Luis seems to be everywhere; it's the knowledge of our intolerable situation that makes us tiptoe.

Even though we both feel good about living like this, we know it's not going to work forever. Neither Sheridan nor I have been romantically involved with anyone since Luis died. She starts yelling at me only if I mention her needing a man in her life, but myself I have started to miss the feeling of having someone to love. I know that what Luis meant when he made me promise to take care of Sheridan and Daniel was not that I should put my life on hold, but I don't know how I'll be able to do it otherwise. If I get serious about a woman and want to spend my life with her, I eventually will have to move out, and then how will my and Daniel's relationship be? I have adopted him and will always be his father; can I be that if I don't live with him? I know several guys from the station who are divorced and have kids, some even both with their ex and new wife, and maybe that'll be how my life will turn out if I get married and have kids on my own someday.

But then our lives will be even weirder in other people's eyes. I don't want Daniel to all his life have to feel that he's different from other kids, living with his mother and having his dead father's best friend as his adoptive father who lives with his wife and kids a few blocks away. It's weird enough for him to have two fathers. At least it certainly seems to be weird enough for other people.

I know, I know, I shouldn't care about what other people say and think, as long as we are happy with the way we live. But with all the more or less strange opinions on our lifestyle I have gotten over the years, it's hard not to feel bothered.
There are two popular ideas people have when they, either through the grapevine or from us, learn that Daniel isn't mine, but my best friend's biological son. The first one is that I had some sleazy affair with my best friend's wife, and driven them to divorce. Mostly old women think like this, and I always get tons of nasty comments before I can explain. When they learn the truth they are always horrified and if they ever stop apologizing, then they'll start treating Sheridan and Daniel as if they were made of glass.

The other common belief is the one that makes me mad. Having known Luis and the whole Lopez-Fitzgerald family situation all my life I always get furious with people who assume like this. Without even knowing Luis's name, they think that Daniel's father left and abandoned him and his then pregnant mother, and that I stepped in as some bloody hero. From this point of view I always seem like a gentleman at its most, and I always get asked how I can be so forgiving and still call Luis my best friend.
I really hate this one. Both Sheridan and I do, both knowing how much Luis hated his father for doing just what people assume he did himself, and him not being able to defend himself. I know how furious he would have been if he was here, though.

It was always Luis's greatest fear, to become Martin. He often spoke about that during the first months of Sheridan's pregnancy, so I knew exactly how much he still, after so many years, suffered from the abandonment. He always deep inside thought that the gene for abandonment ran in his blood, and that he would have to fight all his life not to fall for it.
So when people think like this, I explode. I even slapped our neighbour George once, and I know that Sheridan hasn't quite forgiven Diane for believing this. At first she was furious at me too, for letting Diane believe it. But what was I supposed to do? It was actually Daniel who called me his daddy – how the heck was Diane supposed to understand the difference between his papa and his daddy?

The look in Sheridan's eyes when she heard Diane say that Daniel's father wasn't really worth a dime for leaving such a wonderful son, was unforgettable to me.
She took Daniel from Diane and gave her what Luis used to call "that" look. He always complained about her temper, but I know he actually liked having someone to fight with, someone who didn't give up.

"Don't you dare say one bad thing about my husband," she hissed. "Don't you dare."

With those words she walked out of the house with Daniel on her hip, not to come back for several hours.

When I told Diane she of course was terrified. She apologized to Sheridan as soon as she came back, but even if she said she accepted it I'm not sure she did.
Mostly she was upset with me. She could accept that Diane only, as so many others, had believed what she thought she saw, and told me that the reason she had reacted so heavily had been that someone who would be so close to us had thought like that about Luis. But she couldn't forgive me for, as she said, letting Diane believe what she had. Did I want to trash Luis's memory, take advantage of his death? Was I trying to take Daniel from her, or turn him against his father?
She went on and on at me for hours before I managed to calm her down.

I had had my fears that one of them would be jealous, but I hadn't expected it to be Sheridan. Or, she says she isn't, but I still believe she is. Maybe jealousy isn't quite the word, I know she's happy for Diane and me – it's more fear mixed with how much she still misses Luis. Several times over the years she has accused me of thinking she doesn't want to be happy, and of course I know she wants to. She wants to be happy with him, which of course is impossible. She has somewhat accepted that he's not here, but she can't accept that he's gone.

To be honest, I have trouble with that myself.

I still can't believe you're gone
Give anything to hear half your breath
I know you still living you're life, after death

When Diane and I got engaged I sat at the grave for several hours and told Luis everything. It always feels as if he listens, and sometimes I can even hear his voice inside my head, annoyed telling me to get a grip, just as he used to years ago when my incapability of making decisions shone through, or when he thought I dreamt too much. Back then I could be annoyed with him trying to lecture me, but now it feels good. I can feel him with me, and I know he's still out there somewhere, patiently waiting for his family. He's not gone. We have just lost him for some time.

Every night I pray, every step I take
Every move I make, every single day
Every night I pray, every step I take
Every day that passes
Every move I make, every single day
Is a day that I get closer
To seeing you again
Every night I pray, every step I take
We miss you... and we won't stop
Every move I make, every single day
Cause we can't stop... that's right
Every night I pray, every step I take
Every move I make, every single day
~ We miss you ~