Chapter Six

Terry decided he needed to take the long way through the park, clear his head. He always felt strange leaving LeFrak City, like he wasn't himself. The shrink kept telling him maybe he hadn't been himself in a long time. But then, who was he?

Jimmy.

That was the last person Terry had expected to see out that way. Jimmy and the dog. The dog walked over to a bench, Jimmy stretched out his hand, touched the bench seat, then sat, stretching, ordering the dog to sit. He pulled off his sunglasses, let his arms rest across the back of the bench, leaned his head back and looked up at the trees.

Terry shivered. Jimmy couldn't look up at the trees. Jimmy wouldn't even know he was there—unless— Terry stopped walking, suddenly afraid his old partner would recognize his footsteps. Not that Jimmy was likely to call out to him if he did; their partnership, their friendship, was long gone. Terry just didn't want Jimmy wondering what he was doing there. The city sometimes felt like it wasn't big enough to hold Terry and all his mistakes, keep him safe from the people who had cared about him and would try to keep him honest.

That's all Jimmy'd ever wanted from him, honesty. If he'd been shot, that would have been fine, if only Terry hadn't frozen, hadn't tried to make himself feel better by lying to himself and everyone else.

Seeing him like that, it wasn't the same Jimmy, not by a long shot. Quiet, calm, sitting in the park with his dog like he didn't have anything better to do with his time.

"Jimmy." His voice cracked as he called out, but he made himself walk over, slowly, one foot in front of the other.

Jimmy looked up, his lips parted in surprise, then Terry saw his jaw muscles clench.

"I just didn't think it was fair to, you know, walk by without saying anything."

Jim nodded, but didn't say anything. He'd looked away when Terry'd said the word fair.

"I, uh, they're having me see a shrink in LeFrak."

He nodded again.

"Come on, say something."

"Like what?"

Terry sighed. "I don't know. Maybe, leave me alone, don't ever talk to me again?"

Jimmy leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Terry, I… don't know you anymore. We're not partners now. We're not friends."

"You're still Mickey's godfather."

"And that makes you and me what? Still nothing."

"I won't ask you to forgive me, Jimmy. Or to forget. I just saw you here… I couldn't walk past."

Jimmy's eyes pierced him a second before he turned his head down. "Neither of us are the same people, Terry."

Terry nodded, then realized Jimmy couldn't see that. "How'd you manage to figure it all out?"

"I didn't have a choice."

"Like I did?" Terry turned away.

"I'm not saying it should have been easy for you," Jimmy said slowly.

"But if it had been you, you never would have frozen, and if you'd screwed up, you just would have moved on?"

Jimmy shook his head.

"You were never perfect, either. You just didn't screw up on the job."

"What do you want from me, Terry? You want advice on how to move on with your life? Is that it?" Jimmy stood up and walked away from the bench, leaving his guide dog sitting there, watching him, muscles taught to run and help. "What happened, Terry? You once told me, if I needed to know what would make a man shoot himself…" He shook his head, put his hands in his pockets, closed his eyes a second. "After I found out I'd lost my sight, believe me, I would have killed myself if I'd had a chance, if I could have figured out how to do it." He turned back briefly, his eyes looking over Terry's left shoulder. "But that's not exactly what you were doing. So what?"

Terry sighed, watching Jimmy standing there with his back turned, looking over the jogging path. "That's what I've been talking to that shrink about."

"Because I got shot?"

"Not just that. Why I froze… When I saw that guy with the mask, when I saw… that officer get shot because of me, Jimmy. I didn't even know his name, but he trusted me. I told him it would be okay to run. And then, seeing you lying there, bleeding to death. Seeing you now…"

Jimmy shook his head and turned back. "Terry, forget what happened to me. It might have happened anyway—"

"Why'd you have to leave your cover, huh? Why'd you have to come out and—"

"What'd you want me to do? If I hadn't, he probably would have shot us all. Maybe would have gotten away and he'd still be out there today, robbing banks and killing whoever he feels like."

"Maybe if you'd stayed, maybe I woulda—maybe I only needed another second. Get myself together."

Jimmy shook his head. "Another second? How many seconds did it take you to come up with that scheme on the roof, huh? You couldn't have thought that through a little better?" Jimmy was suddenly in his face with a pained look as he faced Terry, brows knitted, lips pressed together. "What the hell?"

"Jimmy, I—" He cut himself short. Silence.

Jimmy shook his head. Then he nodded and shrugged, turned his head away, though he was still less than a foot from Terry. Terry couldn't read the expression. "What went wrong?" Jimmy finally asked, not looking up.

Terry turned his own head away, but didn't dare move and break the contact. "I don't know what went wrong. I saw the guy get shot… Then everything went wrong. You got shot and it was my fault."

"You were there; that was my fault." Jimmy paced away, his face getting red with anger.

"It's not your fault you trusted me!"

"Oh yeah?" He spun back. "How? You were my partner."

"I didn't have your back."

"I should have known."

"Jimmy, I didn't know. How could we? It happened."

"I know." He lowered his head. "I know."

Terry paced away again, walking further this time, contemplating just walking on forever, leaving Jimmy standing there. He glanced back, saw Jimmy watching him walk away, his mouth half opened as if to speak.

"Terry," Jimmy said, holding out a hand.

Terry stopped walking.

"Maybe I forgave you for the bank. But you went back on the job! Putting other people at risk, knowing you can't handle—" Jimmy cut himself off. He looked away. "That's why you got partnered with Glenn, isn't it? It wasn't 'cause no one would partner with him."

"Jimmy."

He shook his head. "That was your second chance. I'm not saying you didn't deserve one, but you blew it! Why? What'd you shoot yourself for? You wanted to be a hero, to prove that you could handle getting shot like I did? Is that it?"

Terry felt himself shrinking under Jim's gaze. He looked into the wide blue eyes and shuddered. "I don't know what I was thinking. Guilt because you got shot? Because you wouldn't talk to me? We were friends, Jimmy!"

"So what?"

"A friend can't make a mistake?" Terry shut his own eyes, felt suddenly light-headed in the darkness, but he wouldn't open them. He forced himself to think back to that day, practically partnered back up with Jimmy while they went to lean on some gang members about a homicide. Back with Jimmy, his old friend. They hadn't spent any time together in over a year. Awkward didn't even begin to cover it, the guilt had been swallowing him up as he looked at his friend, being led around by a dog and a girl, relying on people. Jimmy'd never had to rely on anyone before.

Except at the bank.

Terry's stomach turned as the two events meshed in his head, showing him pictures of gunmen firing, perps running. Knowing Jimmy couldn't run after a perp anymore. He ran after Titus Oliver to the roof, found the gun was in the stairwell. Jimmy wouldn't talk to him, didn't acknowledge they'd ever been friends or partners, knew he couldn't rely on Terry to back him up. He'd been asking questions like the old Jimmy, been offended by Glenn's comment that he'd be useless at a crime scene. Terry hadn't been able to imagine all the heads Jimmy butted against coming back to work, all the people who thought like Glenn. What did they know? They hadn't been his partner. Terry knew Jimmy could do that job, with or without sight, better than himself even. So he'd run up on the roof with Titus' gun. The kid was already across the roof, jumping. There was no way Terry'd catch him, he'd messed up again. In front of Jimmy, he'd lost the perp. He'd lost his friend. He could barely do his job anymore, no one wanted to be his partner. He'd looked at Titus' gun—maybe if the slug didn't come from his own gun, maybe Annie'd still get his insurance money. He could shoot himself with Titus' gun and he wouldn't have to worry anymore. Everyone would think Titus did it, so Annie wouldn't have any problems about a suicide. He'd raised the gun.

Jimmy'd know what happened. He was just down on the street. Somehow, he'd know Terry wanted to die.

He raised his own gun and shot after Titus. Maybe they'd think he'd at least tried, not just stopped pursuit and given up.

He raised Titus' gun again, to his head. Pulled out his handkerchief, lowered the gun, shot himself in the shoulder.

He didn't know why he'd done it. Maybe because Jimmy was down there and he'd run up and he'd talk to Terry, finally accept the apology. Maybe because he really wanted to kill himself, but couldn't put the gun to his head and that was the closest he could get. Why had he lowered the gun? Because Jimmy'd been shot in the head? Too coincidental for ex-partners to both be shot that way? Jimmy'd been lucky and lived, but at that close of range, Terry surely would've died from a shot to the head. Maybe he'd wanted to prove—he could get shot, too? Even it out? No, that wasn't right. He wasn't trying to prove anything, hoped the press wouldn't get a hold of the story because he was a terrible liar. But he'd just shot himself! Maybe he thought, for his own sake, he could feel Jimmy's pain, just a little. Maybe if he hurt himself enough, he'd be able to just stay in the squad, would have a reason to not go out on the street. He didn't know anymore why he'd done it. It had shocked him up on the roof, suddenly finding himself bleeding from the shoulder. Everything he'd been thinking, gone. And he had to tell them something. Some guy shot me sounded a lot better than what actually happened.

"Jimmy… Have you ever done something you couldn't explain, but you just had to do it?"

"You had to shoot yourself?"

Jimmy'd given up even trying to look at him, his gaze blank, facing the bench. Terry looked down on the dog, watching them. The dog had a reproachful look and Terry turned away.

"I don't know!" Terry slumped on the bench.

"I can't help you this time, Terry. I can't make everything go away."

"I know."

Jimmy fixed his gaze so he was looking closer at Terry.

"I made a mistake, I gotta learn to live with it, right?"

Jimmy sat on the bench next to him, staring straight ahead. "Just don't go shooting yourself this time, okay?" He glanced over with a small smile. He gestured away. "Good luck."

Terry stood. "You keep pushing me away." He didn't like the hurt tone in his voice, but he couldn't hide it.

"Everything changed, Terry. What more do you want?" Jimmy shut his eyes, took a deep breath. "I'm here if you need me. Other than that…" He shrugged, shook his head.

Terry nodded. "You can't forgive me."

"No. I can't."

Terry started away.

"I tried."

He stopped but didn't turn.

"We can't go back to what we had just 'cause you feel guilty. It won't make you feel any better. Penance doesn't work, Terry." Jimmy stood up, tapped his thigh. The dog jumped up into place. "Forward." They walked off.