The story continues - today Hank finally says goodbye to his best friend.

Chapter 14

The next morning, Kim picked him up from his house and drove with Hank to the cemetery where Al had found his final resting place.

"Do you want me to accompany you? To his grave?" asked Kim as she parked her car.

Hank turned his head and looked out the passenger window. He wasn't sure what he wanted. Hell, he didn't even know if he really wanted to be here. If he really wanted to stand at Al's grave. For, if he did, he would see it clearly in front of his eyes. His actions. The thing he was to blame for - in his opinion. However, he couldn't always run away. He had to face his guilt. He had to say goodbye to his best friend.

And then he shook his head before wordlessly getting out of the car. Seldom had a walk felt as hard as this one. As Hank stood in front of his best friend's grave, he just stared at the headstone for quite some time.

"Hello, Al," he said then, softly. Somehow it felt strange. Standing here talking to the tombstone. Whereas, when he visited Camille's grave, he talked to her too. He would tell her about his day. Asked questions he knew he wouldn't get an answer to.

And yet he started to say a few words to him, "I know I should have come here a long time ago. But you know . . Al, I don't, well it's hard. Being here is hard. I actually didn't want to come here at first. But Bur... Kim, she drove me here. She's trying to replace you. And you know... . Well, she's not you. But Kim, she's different. But different in a good way. And I, just, well you know, when she's around, I like to have her near me. . . . We went to your favorite diner, and we had chocolate cake. Only, it would have been nice if you'd been at the table with us, too. If you'd just-" Hank broke off. His gaze rested on the inscription on the headstone. Alvin Olinsky - husband, father, friend. "I should have saved you. I should have protected you. But I failed. I have you, I . . it's my fault that you're dead. And even though the others keep saying, well no matter what the others say, it's my fault. I am responsible for your death. Only me alone. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Hank whispered, his voice choking with tears.

And then he felt the first tears make their way down his cheeks. How his knees gave way and he sank down in front of the gravestone.

A moment later, he was pulled into an embrace. Kim had followed him to Al's grave and had stood at a distance watching him. But now she was kneeling beside Hank and had pulled him into her arms. She held him close. She stroked his back soothingly. She was there for him while all the feelings poured out of him. All the pain. The guilt. Everything he'd been bottling up lately. Hank buried his face in her shoulder. Kim felt his tears wetting her shirt. He was crying. And Kim was glad. She was glad that he was finally allowing his feelings. That he finally accepted the pain.

„I know. I know it hurts. But the pain will lessen. I promise", she whispered, "And I am here for you. You are not alone."

"I, Kim-"

"It's all good, sssh, I'm here. I'm here for you."

Kim didn't know how long she had knelt here in front of Al's grave, how long it took for Hank's tears to slowly subside. Eventually, though, he broke away from her.

A little ashamed, Hank looked at her. He hadn't wanted to lose his cool like that. Not again. This, he was a little embarrassed. But Kim didn't say anything. She reached out and brushed one last tear from his cheek.

"Come on, I'll drive you home," she whispered softly.

Hank nodded.

Wordlessly, the two walked back to Kim's car. They walked very close to each other. Their hands kept brushing against each other as they walked. And it would be easy for Hank to reach for Kim's hand now. To intertwine their fingers. But he didn't. Even though he felt an urge to do so. Kim, well she gave him strength, support. She always knew exactly what he needed. Being close to him. Some distance. Something to eat. Someone who was simply there for him. Kim was just there. Always. For him. And somehow he didn't want to be without her. Hell, he refused to live without her. Not ever. And that's why he should stop hurting her. Because he needed Kim. Because he didn't want to lose her. Not like he had lost Camille. And that thought haunted him until they arrived in front of his house.

"Are you still coming inside," he asked as Kim stopped the car.

"I-"

"Please. I don't want to be alone right now. Not after, well I. . . that is. Please", he needed her at the moment.

And so it was that a little while later, Hank and Kim were sitting on his sofa. Each a cup of tea in hand. Hank was looking down at the cup, thinking.

"Back than after Camille's death, it really pulled the rug out from under me. My wife died and I couldn't help her. I felt so angry, so helpless. At the time, if it wasn't for Al, I would have lost all of my sanity, well I was half mad with grief," Hank began to tell the story.

Kim reached out and put her hand on top of his, giving his hand a quick squeeze.

"Al was always there. For as long as I can remember he was always there. He was simply part of my life. And all of a sudden he's gone. And I still can't and won't believe it. That he's dead. That I killed him. I may not have stuck the knife in his stomach, but it's my fault that my best friend is dead now," Hank noticed his emotions pushing to the surface again. But he wasn't going to let it. He didn't want to lose control again. He had done that more than once before.

"Al wouldn't have wanted you to blame yourself," she said.

"But I am to blame."

"No, Hank. You're not to blame. No one is to blame except the man who gave the order for Al's murder."

"He did that because he wants to hurt me. And Al is just an innocent victim. Just like the women I couldn't save. That's my fault, too."

Kim hesitated. Finding the right words to say was not easy. It was not easy to convince Hank that he was not to blame. Especially not when even someone on his own team blamed him. I mean, when Adam blamed him for Al's death. But that was something Kim would deal with later. Right now, it was about being there for Hank. Offering him a shoulder to lean on. Reminding him of the things that were good in his life. Remind him about the good moments. With Al.

"Tell me about Al. About your friendship," she asked therefore. She had heard some stories before, but maybe it helped Hank cope with his pain. Remembering. All the good moments.

And Kim was going to be proven right. At last, it had done him some good to say it out loud. To talk about the memories of Al. By now Hank was lying on the sofa, his head in Kim's lap. She stroked his hair, lost in thought. She was glad Hank had done it. That he had been at the cemetery. It had been good for him - to finally say goodbye. Finally releasing all his emotions. To stop keeping it all bottled up until he couldn't control himself anymore.

"Kim, I'm sorry," he then began. He needed to talk to her about what he had done. I mean the other day in his car. He also needed to voice out loud this guilt he had brought upon himself. Again.

"Hank, you don't have to-"

"Yes, I do, Kim, I need to apologize. I want to apologize to you for what I have done. I, please let me explain," he sat up and turned so he was looking directly at Kim, "What happened in the car, that's unforgivable. There are no words to excuse that. I lost my temper and just kept thinking about it, about the fact that I always fail, that I can't do anything right and disappoint all the people around me, so, I just wanted to forget about it. For a moment I wanted to forget everything. And no longer feel anything bad inside me. My anger, my guilt, I wanted to forget that, to suppress it and I almost brought more guilt on myself. I hurt you and I almost did something even more unforgivable. I-"

"STOP," Kim said, finally wanting him to stop.

"Kim, I would have-"

"But you didn't," she interrupted him, and then she put her hand on his cheek, stroking it, "Hank, I know you would never do anything I didn't want you to. You would never hurt me."

"But I almost did-"

"No, no buts" Kim looked at him seriously. She couldn't talk about it now. She didn't want to talk about it, not now. So far, Kim had successfully blocked out this moment in the car and what might have happened. They would talk about it eventually, just not now, "Hank Voight, when is it going to get into your dickhead that you're not to blame for everything? And most of all, I know you would never do anything to hurt me. I know you won't hurt me. Never. Please stop telling yourself that. That you would have hurt me. And that you almost lost your temper with me. I know that wouldn't have happened. I, well-You never would. Not with me."

For a moment, they just looked at each other. Looked into each other's eyes. And came saw it again. The thing she'd seen in his eyes before - and it wasn't just the hurt that had been constantly in his gaze lately. It was something else. Something beautiful.

Hank put his hand on hers. Stopped any further movement that way, any further touch.

"Kim," Hank whispered.

"Hank, please," and then she leaned forward. She took the initiative. Kissed him. Well, she proved to him and to herself that she was not afraid of him. That his touches were not unwanted. And that she would allow it. I mean that she would allow it if he touched her, kissed her. And that she wanted it. That she wanted him. At least in that moment. Even if she shouldn't. In fact, she shouldn't long to kiss him again. But she did. She wanted to kiss him. Here. Now.

After a moment's hesitation, Hank returned the kiss and applied gentle pressure to Kim's lips, eliciting a soft sigh from her. Hank began to lightly nibble on her lower lip, gently brushing the tip of his tongue over her lips. Begging to be let in. But instead, Kim broke off the kiss, with a heavy heart. She looked at Hank for a moment. She shouldn't have kissed him. It just wasn't a good idea. At least not now. Not as long as his life was still such a mess. She couldn't add to the mess. No matter how good it had felt.

"Hank," Kim placed her hand on his chest, just above his heart, "Maybe it's"

"Yeah. Not a good idea," he muttered.

"Not now, anyway."

Hank nodded. Kim was right. No matter how good this moment had felt. But his emotions, his feelings, it was all messed up. Today had been a very emotional day for him. The visit to Al's grave. Hank wasn't going to do anything that messed up his emotions even more. Nothing that added to the emotional chaos.

Not at the moment, anyway. But later - maybe.