Reality sinks in
"I never knew what it was to be alone, no
'cause you were always there for me
you were always waiting
but now I come home and it's not the same
it feels empty and alone
I can't believe you're gone
I'm glad he set you free from sorrow
I'll still love you more tomorrow
and you will be here with me still"
-In Loving Memory, Alter Bridge
Thanks to Aphina for sending me this amazing song.
Carmen stood in front of St. Michael's Roman Catholic Church in lower Manhattan, face tilted towards the electric blue sky, eyes closed, the sun bathing her face in warmth, drying the tears that streamed down her cheeks, the slight breeze ruffling he hair. Hands clasping a heavily wrinkled piece of paper in one hand, the charm bracelet in the other.
Please Sam, she thought, rubbing that bracelet between her thumb and forefinger. Give me some strength.'Cause right now I don't think I can do this.Please just give me a little bit of help here. Give me some sign that you're okay.I need some sort of sign that you're here,that you didn't suffer and you're okay.That you made it okay. Please Sam, just some sort of sign.
But no sign came. She had hoped and prayed that one would. But all around her, life went on. Birds sang cheerily in the trees, people on the sidewalk talked happily and noisily, cars on the street zoomed by and honked their horns. It was someone elses grief and suffering and sorrow. Not theirs. And she hated them for that. Because this was her sorrow and it was unbearable. The heaviness in her heart that wouldn't go away. The tears that wouldn't stop flowing during the drive over and in the fifteen minutes she'd sat in her car and bawled like a baby and ranted and raved at the injustice of it all. The thought that this was it. This was the end. This wasn't a terrible mistake or a dream like she'd been praying and begging God it was.
Samantha was gone. And so was part of Carmen's soul. Sam had been that one person that she could count on to make her smile when there didn't seem to be anything to smile about. Cracking some joke at a tense or emotional time that put Carmen in a state of giggles. That bright smile and crinkled nose that greeted you cheerfully whether it be eight in the morning or well after midnight. That Brooklyn accent and sometimes unabashedly foul mouth that had you staring at her wondering what planet she'd just dropped off of. The best friend any one could ever ask for. Sam had a trusting, pure soul that developed over time, and Carmen would often sit back and watch Sam with her children, see the infinite patience and unconditional love she possessed for not only them but her husband, and be in complete and utter awe.
The only sister Carmen ever had. Who she had trusted with her deepest, darkest secrets. Who she had trusted with her life. Behind that girl next door appearance and that tiny body was one tough cookie. And Carmen knew if it was Sam behind her while executing a warrant or chasing down a perp or sitting across from a hardened murderer in interrogation, that the situation would be in complete and utter control. And that control was what Carmen so desperately needed. Because all of her's had slipped away.
She choked back sob and wiped at her tears with the back of her hand and opened her eyes and looked down at the paper in her hand. A eulogy. She'd never given a eulogy a day in her life and wasn't sure she wanted to make this her first. But Flack had asked her to do it. He knew the depth of the relationship the two women had had. That Carmen probably knew his wife better than he did. He was sure there were things Sam had told her that he had no idea about and he respected that unbreakable bond of utmost trust the two had shared. He never asked or pressured for information.
And it was why Carmen couldn't say no to him. Because he'd never come between that friendship and he had treated her 'sister' so well and with so much love and respect and adoration in the past ten years. She'd never be able to find the words to thank him for taking such good care of Sam. For making her so happy. And she admired him and respected him for that. Because Sam wasn't the easiest person to live with and he put up with a lot and still hung in there. Hell, he deserved a medal of valor for dealing with her and everything that came with her. And coming out of it relatively unscathed.
That last thought made Carmen laugh. A little laugh that surprised her. It had been a long time since she last laughed. Nearly three weeks. She'd been in the trace lab and Sam and Danny were out in the hallway and Danny was regaling her with his tale of shifting through a dumpster full of shitty baby diapers and maggots and a rotting corpse. Whatever Danny had said, Sam had let out this loud, bubbly laugh that echoed through the entire place and brought a smile to every ones face. It was a sudden, unexpected bright spot in an otherwise bland day. Two days later, she and Rick had stood at the departure gate at JFK, anxious and excited to go on their trip, having said goodbye to Sam and Flack who'd driven them there, and now watched as the other couple headed off hand in had. Ten years had done little to diminish the love they had for each other in their eyes or stop the little PDAs they'd always been known for.
"I better not get back and find out your pregnant again!" Carmen had called to her friend.
Sam had turned and given her that cherubic smile. "Bite your tongue... goodbye, Carmen."
That had been the last time Carmen had seen Samantha Flack. She was smiling and laughing and still very much alive. And Carmen hadn't thought about it until she and Rick made their frantic trip back to New York that those last words Sam had ever spoken to her had been so out of character for her. Sam never said goodbye. She made sure other people didn't say it, too. It was 'so long' or 'see ya later.' Because, Sam had reasoned when questioned about it, goodbye was permanent.
Permanent. That's what this was. There was no erasing what had happened or what was still to come. For Carmen there was an overwhelming sense of guilt for not being there at the end, at the side of a friend who had always, always been there for her. Flack had told her not to feel that way. Sam didn't realize anyone was in the room when the team each made their way in one by one after he'd announced he made the decision to remove her from the breathing tube. She showed no signs that she was aware of anyone or anything that was being said to her. He wasn't even sure if she realized he was with her to the bitter end. It was a closure he desperately looked for every day. A sign of some sort that she'd known he was there . That her last minutes on earth hadn't been lonely ones. That she'd heard even half of what he'd said. He needed someone that could answer all the hard questions.
Carmen just wanted to know if her friend forgave her for not being there. To hold her hand and smooth her hair away from her face and tell her not to be afraid, that it was okay to let go. God, that hair. So fine and baby soft, worn to the middle of her back. Carmen could still remember that day Sam showed up with her Posh Spice 'do and the shock that had registered on everyone's faces. She'd looked damn cute, but the waist length tresses had given her an innocent Rupenzul look as opposed to a Detective Spice look, a nickname Danny had labelled her with. The nickname had been enough for Sam to vow to grow her hair back.
Carmen laughed again. At least she found that a little easier now. To think of silly instances they'd experienced together and be able to chuckle. To see Sam in her ugly neon green Croc shoes she wore to and from work because she loved how comfy they were. Or the time she lost her nearly eight grand engagement ring in the garbage can in the trace lab when she pulled off a pair of gloves and didn't realize until Stella asked an hour later where her ring was. A wild tossing of every trash can in every lab had ensued, Sam declaring she was going to be sick over the entire thing and for no one to ever mention it to Flack. Especially after maxing out every credit card left to max out to buy the thing. Carmen could see that day vividly. Sam not knowing whether to laugh or cry as she, Carmen and Stella dumped every trash can on the thirty-fifth floor. Eventually the ring was found and Sam promptly went out and got it re-sized smaller. Word had gotten back to Flack through a nosey lab tech, and after a minor freak out, he went out and put insurance on the thing. Because, as he had said, if it's going to happen to anyone, it's going to be Sam.
God, she'd survived a lot. She had been a tough, stubborn little bitch from the get go. She pulled no punches and shot from the hip and made a lot of friends and a fair share of enemies. She'd locked up countless amounts of dangerous felons and solved more cold cases than anyone else in the entire lab. She'd been nearly strangled and poisoned to death by crazed perps and had chased more bad guys through the darkest alleys of the city than Carmen cared to remember. Yet the greatest achievement in her life was becoming a mother. She admitted that readily. She'd been scared when news of that first pregnancy came about. She was afraid that her violent upbringing would prevent her from being an adequate mother. Perhaps even cause her to repeat the behavior. But any doubt and misgivings she or anyone else may have had, all vanished that moment in the living room when Dr. Sheldon Hawkes had announced it was a boy. No one expected a home birth. Everything was good to go at the hospital. But the baby had had other ideas and decided three weeks early was a good time to make his entrance. A persistent bugger just like his mother, he'd caused her to go from breaking her water to all out labor in less than three hours. Hawkes had been on speed dial and she'd called him in a state when her water broke, home alone, at three in the morning. He'd come over just to check on things and ended up playing OB.
Flack was right. If it was going to happen to anyone, it would be Samantha. And it had happened. A supposedly secure scene had turned into blood bath. She'd gone in there alone to process, happy and laughing, talking about the first trip in ten years that she and Flack were taking in two months. Sending the kids to stay with Danny and Erica for one week and Carmen and Rick the second. She'd never been outside North America. Flack had decided they both needed a break and bought them a vacation to Ireland. Carmen liked to think that that was the last thought on her friend's mind as she lay there dying on that cold warehouse floor. That she hadn't thought of anything else than her kids and her husband and all the times they'd had together. It had taken all of thirty seconds to rob a husband of his wife and four children of their mother. And the entire city of New York one hell of a cop.
Carmen looked down at the paper in her hand. At the words she'd managed to scrawl through a river of tears. She knew what she had to do, but wasn't ready to do it. She wasn't ready to say goodbye.
It was permanent.
"Carmen."
The soft, deep voice of her husband snapped her out of her memories. Rick was the last person she wanted to talk to our even see. She turned to him and allowed little more than a kiss to the cheek and a stiff hug. As far as she was concerned, her husband had been emotionally distant since Sam's death. He could have managed a lot more than a five minute phone call to Flack. He could have stopped by the house and offered his support or condolences instead of shunning the person that had been instrumental in bringing them together. But Rick had been absent and Carmen couldn't forgive him for that.
"You been okay?" he asked.
Carmen stared at him incredulously and shook her head. "My best friend was murdered." she said, the tone in her voice one of agony and vehemence. "She was family to me. She was murdered, Rick. She has a husband that's one step away from one of three things. Alcoholism, a mental breakdown or suicide. Hell, maybe even all three. There's four children that don't have a mother anymore. One of them is just a baby and won't even remember her mother. And you ask me if I've been okay?"
He did little more than stare at her.
"Where the hell have you been!" she raged. "You haven't even bothered to stop by the house! You called Flack for all of five minutes and it was to ask him about a case! A case!? When his wife just died! He's your friend, Rick!"
"He's my boss, Carmen." he corrected her. "When he got that promotion to Lieutenant, he became my boss."
"And that makes it okay to shit all over him?"
"I'm showing him my support at work. His cases are going down hill and I'm trying to pick up the slack. He looses his job, he won't be able to even feed those kids!"
"You cold hearted sonofabitch! The man's wife was murdered, Rick!"
"He has a responsibility to the badge."
"The badge!" Carmen fought the urge to smack him silly. "The badge! His wife is dead! He's falling apart and all you can think about is the badge!? What the hell are you even doing here?"
"You have a responsibility to me, Carmen!" he snapped back. "As a wife! I miss that!"
She shook her head. "You can't even respect that my best friend died! While you go on about the badge, I'm falling apart and trying to take care of her kids!"
"Those kids are not your problem, Carmen."
"You know what? Why don't you just..."
She stopped in mid sentence when she saw Danny, Erica and Flack approaching the church from behind Rick. An argument like that and Rick's cold words were the last thing that Flack needed to hear as he prepared to bury his wife. Danny and Erica were both talking quietly to him, Danny's hand on his shoulder, but Flack did little more than nod and divert his eyes from anywhere but the front of that church.
"Hey, guys." Danny greeted solemly. "What's going on?"
"Nothing." Carmen replied. She went to Flack and embraced him tightly and kissed his smooth cheek. "How are you doing?" she asked, and could barely see the pain in his eyes from behind his sunglasses.
"Okay." he replied simply with a shrug of his broad shoulders. In a soft tone that was so not Don Flack.
"How ya holding up, Flack?" Rick asked, offering his hand.
"How ya think he's holding up?" Danny retorted.
Flack didn't respond. He shook Rick's hand but what he really wanted to do was the knock the guy three ways from Sunday.
"You'll be fine." Rick said. "It'll all work out."
Danny shook his head and had to bite his tongue and look away. God give me strength, he thought.
'"Is that all you can say?" Carmen asked.
Silence fell between the group and Carmen saw Danny, Erica and Flack's eyes follow something behind her very intently. Their faces falling ever more than ever. Tears crept up in Danny's eyes. Erica chewed on her lip to fight off the emotion.
Carmen turned to look. A black hearse pulling up to the front of the church. Her stomach churned. The time was getting closer. When she turned back, she saw Mac, Hawkes, Adam and Flack's good friend and fellow Detective Tony Scagnetti coming down the steps of the church.
"I think we should go in now." she said gently and took Flack's hand. "Do you feel ready to go in or do you want to wait a little longer?"
"I don't know how I feel." he admitted. "Or what to do."
"How about we go in and sit down?" Carmen suggested. "Me and Danny and Erica will be right with you all the way."
"Let's go." Danny said softly and tightened his grip on his best friend's shoulder. "We should go."
"It's okay." Erica whispered, a hand on Flack's back.
"I can't do this." he said as the three of them steered him to the entrance. "I just can't.'
"Yes, you can." Carmen assured him. "It's hard. I know it is. But we're here for you, Don. You need to do this. You have to do it. You know that. It's time to say goodbye, Don."
"I need to. I know that. But I just can't." he said.
"I know. But its time to let her go. None of us want to and I'm so sorry that you have to do this. But it's time." Carmen told him.
Danny fought back tears. He had to be strong. For Flack. For all the times Flack had been there for him.
Flack stopped at the bottom step.
"Once this is over," he said quietly. "that's it. And that's what hurts. If I don't go in there, it goes on."
"I'm so sorry, Don." Carmen said, unable to stop the tears.
"It's like if I don't go in, she's still here. Maybe she just took off and she'll smarten up and come back one day. Sounds messed, I know. But it's how I feel. Like she's not gone if I don't go in there."
"But she is gone, Don." Carmen said. "She is. And the only thin that is gonna make this better is you stepping in that door and saying goodbye. It hurts like a bitch, believe me. But you need to accept that she's not coming back. And she can't be at peace until you let her go."
"It's never gonna get better, Carmen." Flack said.
"But it'll get easier to deal with." she assured him.
Tim Speedle stepped out of the church and into the bright sunshine. He was back in New York to fulfill Flack's request that he be a pall bearer. A request Speed accepted with the utmost respect and honour. He arrived from Miami that very morning. He was a little tired from working a double the day before and felt uncomfortable in a well tailored black suit and an oceanic blue shirt. The top two buttons undone and no tie.
He was going down the stairs as the small group was coming up them. He and Carmen's eyes met and time seemed to stand still. All the love and pain still there. Had it really been almost nine years since he left? She looked just as beautiful as the day he met her. Her auburn hair glistening in the sun, dressed conservatively in a simple black wrap style dress. To her, he looked as dark and brooding and oh so handsome as the day she saw him on the subway.
"Flack." Speed said, and offered his hand.
The two men shook hands before Speed pulled the big detective into a tight hug. "I am so sorry, Don." he said.
"Thanks." Flack responded, his voice hoarse. "Thanks for comin'."
"Told ya I'd be here. "I just wish I was here under better circumstances."
"Me, too." Flack said, drawing away. "Me, too."
"We should go in." Carmen suggested gently. "You're almost there, Don. Almost there.'
He nodded and took a deep breath and steeled himself.
"Good to see you, Tim." Carmen said as they passed each other.
"You, too, Red." he responded and watched her disappear inside. He sighed heavily and headed down the steps.
"Tim." Mac said, shaking his old employees hand, as the six men gathered at the back of the hearse.
"Speed." Danny nodded in greeting.
"Nice to see you again." Hawkes said in his deep, soothing voice.
Speed layed a hand on Adam's trembling shoulder. "I'm sorry, Adam." he said. "Your sister... she was something else. She meant a lot to me. More than anyone could ever know."
Adam managed a sad smile, tears in his eyes. "Thank you." he managed, voice barely a whisper.
"How's things in the sunshine state?" Danny asked. Anything to keep his mind occupied while waiting for the priest to come and give the good to go.
"Busy." Speed replied. "As usual." he nodded at Hawkes. "Heard you're a professor now."
"Forensics at Columbia." Hawkes said.
"And married to that CSI that took my place. Good for you. So Adam's a detective now, Stella runs the lab, Flack's made lieutenant, Danny's first grade and Mac's commish. What about Hammerbeck? He still around?"
"Died two years ago." Danny said. "Cancer."
Speed shook his head. "That's too bad." he said sincerely. "He was an all right guy."
"How about you?" Hawkes asked. "Wife? Kids?"
"No kids but I do have an ex-wife." Speed replied.
The priest, in flowing white robes, appeared at the top of the stairs and nodded at them. The hearse driver came around to the rear of the vehicle and opened the back. Revealing a gleaming cherry wood coffin with pewter handles, draped in an American Flag.
"Never thought I'd be doing this." Mac said with a sigh, as the driver slid the coffin out so they could grab it.
"Always thought it would be one of us." Danny said, as his hand closed on the cold handle. "Never in a million years did I dream it would be Brook..." he sobbed noisily and dropped his chin to his chest.
Hawkes laid a hand on Danny's shoulder.
"I'm sorry." he said. "I'm okay. I'll be okay. We'll all be okay."
"You okay, Adam?" Speed asked, standing on the opposite side of the former lab tech.
"I think so." he said and closed his eyes briefly.
"Danny..." Mac said gently.
He gathered himself, sniffled noisily. "I'm good." he declared. "It's all good."
Mac sighed heavily. He laid a hand on the top of the casket, saying his own private farewell before grabbing the handle.
"It's time." he said.
I did it!! I didn't think I'd get to finish and post but I did!! Sorry to anyone who I may have brought to tears with this.
Aphina: Quite the far cry from fluff and smut, isn't it! Lol! Big thankies again for that song! The Y kids were a blast to write and it was nice to delve into Flack's head. I'll be doing a lot of that!
Mauveine: I promised and I delivered. LOL! Hope hit the spot!!
laplandgurl: I needed an ice cold shower, too!
Madison Bellows: glad you liked the hotness. I should have known an eleven year old in NYC would know what booty is when my nine year old nephew in Toronto knows a lot worse! LOL!!
sl5828: Welcome! Lots more to come! Look forward to hearing from you!
Bluehaven4220: Flack just looks like he always has at least one foot in the gutter. That boy makes me think impure thoughts. LOL!!
Please oh please! To all of you readers, I beg you to R n R!!