Mourning
A/N: If anyone has a better title, I will love you forver if you give it to me :D. This is a one shot from Phil's POV at his brother's funeral. Its Sam/Phil pairing
I step out of my car and the heavens open, rain pouring out, soaking me to the skin. I don't have a coat. I don't have an umbrella. I don't care. Today is my brother's funeral. Nothing else matters but him. Today, all that matters is that I'm going to hunt down and kill the man that did this.
Steve shouldn't even have been there. It's all my fault that he was. If I hadn't driven him away from Sunhill, it would have been someone else lying in that coffin. Another copper. Perhaps, another person's brother. It wouldn't have mattered to me. If I hadn't driven him away, we'd both be working in the station, and I'd be trying to forget he was there. Now neither of us are there today and it's all my fault.
Our mother is here, crying her eyes out. I wonder if she would be this upset if I had been shot instead of Steve. Probably not. He always was her favourite. There are uniformed officers from Sunhill here and ones from his station in Leeds. Steve always was popular. Everyone liked him, just as everyone pretends to like me. He was the kind, sweet, caring brother. I'm the useless womanising one. We're both so different, yet both of us were on the same career path. And only one of us will live to retire out of said career path. If I'm lucky, that is.
Ever since Steve left the station, I barely thought of him. I didn't call. I didn't write. I didn't even ask mum if he was doing alright. I just completely shut all thoughts of him out of my life. I didn't want to be reminded of the useless embarrassment that I perceived him as. Little did I know how wrong I was? Little did I know that 3 years time, Steve would die saving a civilian while I was stuck in CID doing paperwork?
I remember getting the phone call. I remember the Leeds superintendent's exact words as he told me that some drugged up teenager had shot my brother. That he'd died a hero and that I should be very proud. It didn't seem real. My first thought was that this was some sort of joke. Steve couldn't be dead. Not now. He couldn't have died before I told him that I was sorry for treating him the way I did. But then, as I was called to identify the body, the harsh truth hit me. Steve was dead. And he wasn't coming back. I'd missed my chance to say I was sorry and he had died, thinking that I hated him.
I'd driven back to Sunhill, feeling so angry. I was going to kill the man that did this to my brother. It was only when I reached the station that my anger subsided. I knew it was a stupid idea, to contemplate murder. That the boy will be put away for 25 years anyway, and then I'd be able to get on with my life.
It was only when I sat down in my chair that I remembered what I'd done. How I'd driven Steve away to Leeds. That was a week ago and the guilt still hasn't left me. Maybe it never will.
I still haven't cried for him. My only brother is dead, and I just can't cry. What sort of a person does that make me? I'm a heartless bastard. No wonder the only woman that ever loved me left me. And no wonder the woman I've loved for five years won't trust me. And who could blame her? I've hurt her too many times.
She offered to come with me to the funeral. As moral support. I declined. This is a family thing. Sam didn't know Steve that well, so I knew my mother would be annoyed if I brought her along. But now I wish she was here. As selfish as it is, I need her here. I need someone to stand beside me. To tell me that everything will be alright. To tell me that it's not my fault, even though every instinct I have is telling me it is. Lately, before the fateful phone call, I'd begun distancing myself from her, telling myself it's the right thing to do. That it's time to move on with my life, but it's been difficult. I just can't stop loving her.
The service passes quickly, but I don't really hear it. All I can think of is images of Steve and I together as children. I used to have to protect him all the time. I thought I always would have to. He's now dead, because I couldn't protect him anymore.
As people begin to leave the graveside, I look at my watch and realise that I'd better get back to CID. Not that anyone would judge me for being late back today, but I just need something to do. However, when I arrive, I gaze at the building that has become my second home and realise that I can't go back there. Not yet. It reminds me too much of Steve. Suddenly I feel the need to cry, but I know I can't do it here. Not at my work. I can't stand the sympathetic glances from everyone else. I don't want them to know just how hurt I am.
There's not many people left at work that would know Steve. People came and went, leaving fewer and fewer of the people who would have worked here at the same time as Steve. Nearly everyone from CID at that time has gone their separate ways. Be it via promotion such as Suzie, or in a coffin, like Zain. Stuart had left because he couldn't handle seeing Sam after their divorce.
I slip back inside my car, fighting the tears that threatened to overflow. I can't cry in work. I refuse to cry outside work. Someone jerks me from my thoughts as the car door opens and someone sits down beside me.
"It'll be okay, Phil" Sam's voice whispers from beside me. The tears finally fall as she speaks and she quickly, but awkwardly (because of the car seats) puts her arms around me.
"It's all my fault" I hear myself whisper,
"No it's not." She replies, running her hands gently up and down my back, pulling me closer to her. After a few minutes, I regain control of myself, and force myself to stop crying. I reluctantly pull away from her tender embrace and whisper
"Thanks" aware of how stupid I must look
"It's okay" she says, looking away, looking as embarrassed as I feel. "You've done it plenty of times with me, through the whole Abi thing" she reminds me.
"Yeah" I agree, looking at the floor
"You coming up?" she asks
"Yeah, in a minute" I say, sitting back in my chair
"Okay, I'll see you up there" she replies, leaning forward and gently kissing my cheek and then reaching for the car door handle
"Sam, wait!" I say, calling her back. Knowing I have to say something now, or I'll never have the courage to.
"Yeah?"
"Would you… What would you say if I kissed you?" I blurt out
"What?" she sounds shocked
"Doesn't matter" I say, feeling my face go slightly pink. Silently, she leans across and brushes her lips against mine. I kiss her back softly, but all too soon, she's pulling away and mutters
"See you upstairs" before getting out and walking quickly towards the front door.
I lean back in my seat again, feeling even guiltier than before. This is the day of my brother's funeral. I shouldn't be kissing people. However, now that I've finally kissed Sam, I have one less thing to worry about. I now realise that I can't go on feeling guilty forever, because it'll kill me. Steve wouldn't have wanted that. He would have wanted me to be happy. Although I still blame myself slightly, I know I have to stop thinking like that and get on with my life. Steve's dead, and he's not coming back, but I'm still here. And now, I have to tell a certain blonde DS that I love her, before it's too late.
A/N: So what do you think? Like it? Hate it? Somewhere in between them? Tell me in your reviews! I love reviews and they encourage me to update my other fics faster.
BTW for anyone else who likes Zain, I'm sorry I killed him, it killed me to write that line, but I just felt like it. lol aren't I evil ;)