Disclaimer:  I don't own them, they're owned by Warner Brothers and were created by John Wells and Ed Bernero. 

          Hwyl Fy Cyfaill

                                                                by Elsandra 2004

            "Then sings my soul, my savior god to thee, how great thou art, how great thou art…"

            Sully sat rim rod straight in his dress uniform, the voices of those singing forming a buzz in the back of his head.  He was trying his hardest not to look at the wooden casket in front of him but wasn't succeeding.  At least looking at the coffin kept him from looking at Detective Nancy Hayward who was sitting next to him, sniffling.  He'd been surprised when her hand had snaked up his thigh to grasp his hand resting there but he took the comfort she offered, hoping she was getting the same from him.

            When Evan had asked him to be a pallbearer he'd groused about having to wear his dress uniform, but his friend has used his famous charm to get him to agree.  Sitting there now, at Evan's funeral, all Sully wanted to do was run from the building.  Evan had known he didn't have much time left when he'd asked Sully to stop by a month ago though his demeanor hadn't shown it, he was still cheerful despite the pain of the cancer eating at his liver and spine.  Sully had been unsettled by Evan's one rheumy, cataracted eye but when Evan had fixed on him with his good eye he could still see the glint of humor shining through, reassuring Sully his old friend was still inside the deteriorating shell.

            When Evan asked him to be a pallbearer along with two other males and three females, Sully had smiled.  "Still have to have the ladies around, huh?"
            "Sharon put the kibosh on the six naked women so I'll just have to make do with three in uniform."

            Evan's words reverberated through his head as the hymn ended and everyone sat.  Sully glanced down the pew to his right, seeing how his fellow pallbearers were holding up.  Next to Nancy was Lt. Jacob Schneider from the 7th Precinct, stoically staring straight ahead as if he were oblivious to his surroundings.  Sgt. Barb Reynolds from the 27th Precinct had the common sense to bring a box of tissues with her which kept being passed up and down the row while she dabbed at her own eyes.  Officer Mark Stems from Midtown sat with his jaw clenched, a muscle in his cheek twitching and his lower lip trembling. Officer Lori Rose wasn't even bothering with tissues, her tears ran down her cheeks to drip on the collar of her coat as she stared at the coffin.  Sully had to look away as he felt sympathy tears sting his eyes. 

            The Reverend had started the service, the congregation giving the appropriate responses.  Sully had not idea how many people were there, he'd been too afraid to look around lest he catch the eye of grieving friends and lose what little control he had over his emotions.  Then Dr. Canter went up front to give his eulogy and Sully braced himself, knowing the next couple of minutes were going to be the hardest part of the ceremony. 

            Dr. Canter gave the congregation a sad smile.  "I'm honored to be here today and speak about retired NYPD Detective Evan Charles Reardon, celebrating his life even as we mourn his death."  He laid a book down on the podium before continuing, "As many of you knew, Evan took his own path in life in most things: politics, police work and religion.  I'm sure he's sitting back right now, laughing, because a Jew is delivering a eulogy for a Druid in a Lutheran church."
            Sully could hear a few chuckles through the murmur of the congregation.  "He's probably also impressed by the turnout today, loving the idea of so many officers uncomfortable in their dress uniforms and ties."  That comment drew outright laughter from much of the crowd.  "If he could have gotten away with it, Evan would have had everyone here dressed in Hawaiian shirts and singing Jimmy Buffet songs instead of hymns but he recognized Sharon's need for closure and gave his blessing on a Lutheran ceremony.  Thank you, Reverend Jones, for all your help, especially finding all the Welsh based hymns for today.  Heaven forbid we sang something Irish!"

            Even Sully found himself chuckling at that last bit, he himself had threatened to have someone sing "Danny Boy" at Evan's wake just to rile the man.  Evan had been fiercely proud of his Welsh heritage and would become apoplectic if someone had brought up the Irish.  Dr. Canter paused again and Sully sucked in his breath, anticipating what came next.

"Evan held to his Druid beliefs despite the ridicule he received from others.  He also held onto his belief in integrity, honesty, and love of friends the Celtics called Anam Cara. Anam Cara refers to the Celtic spiritual belief of souls connecting and bonding . In Celtic Spiritual tradition, it is believed that the soul radiates all about the physical body, what some refer to as an aura. When you connect with another person and become completely open and trusting with that individual, your two souls begin to flow together. Should such a deep bond be formed, it is said you have found your Anam Cara or soul friend…"

Sully felt the tears start to spill from his eyes at Dr. Canter's words as he remembered the first time Evan had call him anam cara and explained it's meaning.  Sully had been surprised, flattered, and rather speechless for the first time in his life.  Lost in his own thoughts, Sully didn't realize Dr. Canter had finished his speech until the man walked by, reaching out to give his shoulder a squeeze.  Sully gave him a grateful smile before the man walked away.

Wiping away his tears, Sully was able to bear the rest of the service until the bagpiper walked to the altar area.  As the piper began "Amazing Grace" he involuntarily tightened his grip on Nancy's hand.  He could feel she was trembling and when he looked over he saw the tears flowing down her cheeks.  Before he could offer her more comfort, the funeral home worker was motioning for them to stand. 

            Sully released Nancy's hand as he moved out into the aisle, waiting for her to move up to his side.  They walked out, following the piper to the doors, the rest of the pallbearers falling into formation behind them.  They stopped at the door, waiting for Evan's casket to be wheeled up to them.  Sully could see the long corridor of uniformed officers waiting outside in the early summer sunlight, waiting to salute their friend. 

            The moment Sully had been dreading most was upon him.  Evan's casket was in front of him, waiting for him to grasp its rail.  The pine gleamed in the sunlight but the wood felt cool as he wrapped his hand around the rail.  On the funeral home worker's count, they all lifted, the weight of the casket surprising.  They carried their friend out the doors to the waiting hearse, Sully and Nancy lifting the front to place the casket on the rollers.  They slowly pushed the casket inside, stepping back as the door was shut. 

            Sully gave the order for a salute as the hearse slowly started forward through the double column of saluting officers.  The bagpiper walked slowly in front, the drone from his canter adding a melancholy feel.  When the hearse had cleared the officers, Sully gave the order to be at ease.  Everyone watched as the hearse rounded the corner slowly, eventually disappearing from site. 

            A hand clasped his, causing Sully to look away from where the hearse had been to see who was looking for comfort.  Lori looked as if she would break in to a million pieces as tears streamed down her face.  Sully pulled her into a hug, needing the contact as much as she did.  As he held her all he could think was goodbye, my friend.

In memory of Retired Officer Clayton Evan Roberts, August 10th, 1951-May 25th, 2004.

                                    Hwyl fy Cyfaill, fi serchu ti.