I know this sounds horrible, but I'm almost a little glad that he died. Not because I didn't like him, on the contrary, he was a great guy. A little quirky in ways, but he was a good cop. A damn good cop and a good partner and a pretty good friend, too, if I ever needed one. The only solace I can find in his death is the fact that he doesn't have to bear this pain anymore, this pain we all carry inside us, especially in SVU.
He didn't really let it show, but I could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice, the disgust he carried for the crimes we dealt with. But he shouldered it, just like the rest of us, despite all the years he spent down in Homicide and all the pain he endured. We all knew there were some things in his past that were especially hard for him to handle, but he did fine. The only time I ever saw him break down was at her funeral. That little girl's funeral. Up until then, and even afterwards, he was fine, but that day...
I remember when we arrested this Seth guy. Funniest thing. We let him go down to Virginia to study under some congressman or something and then arrest him so we can get his DNA. We were taking him out of a holding cell and the guy complains about taking his DNA and he says right back, "Yeah, well, write to your congressman." Not only was it funny in the situation, but the deliverance of that simple comment made it even funnier.
I miss that, as much as I complained about it. I thought I was going nuts the other day when I saw him sitting across from me at Jacob's desk, his old one. He had one of those smart ass smirks on his face, like he was about to crack some joke any second. I smiled to myself and shook my head as I continued my work. Later, when I looked back up, he was still sitting there and my smile faded. He got up and I watched as he walked over to the lockers, tracing his hand over his old one.
Suddenly, he banged his fist against it, though no sound came from it. He walked quickly up to the crib and I knew that I probably wasn't going to see him again, but it comforted me, knowing. Knowing he still cared and still had my back, even in death. He still had my back.