I'd say that's
where it all ended; in a deserted parking lot on the west side
of town, but it didn't end. Not really.
I think Simon took
it the hardest. Its not to say the others didn't feel it too,
because they did, but Simon knew. He knew us; knew all
our secrets, that we were partners in every sense of the word,
and all the Sentinel stuff. And he stayed our closest friend
through all of it.
So when Jim died,
it hit Simon hard. And, of course, his first thoughts were for
me, because I had been there, right next to Jim, when that lucky
(or not-so-lucky) bullet made it past the slim barrier of Jim's
classic blue and white. I was there, kneeling in the gravel
parking lot, in the pouring rain, holding my partner, my lover,
my Sentinel, as he bled his life out onto the dirt.
I never even got to
call for back-up, things happened so fast. And Jim just looked
up at me, his head cradled in my lap, and said he'd wait for me.
I knew then, like I'd always known, that it wouldn't be long
before I joined him. It couldn't be any other way.
I also realized,
just after he closed his eyes and slipped away, that there were
things I had to take care of first. And there was Simon.
I realize there
were other guys in Major Crimes that we were close to, that were
close to us; Rafe, Brown, Joel, Megan; but for the most part,
none of them knew. Even after the dissertation fiasco and three
years as a detective and Jim's full-time partner, most of them
still didn't get it.
Joel may have
gotten the Sentinel deal, but if he did, he chose to ignore it,
or at least not say anything about it. Megan knew, and did
everything she could to help us. Rafe and Brown, they were just
clueless. Or maybe they just hid what they knew better than we
knew how to look. But none of them, not even Simon, knew just
how deep the bond between Jim and I ran.
I was still sitting
there in the rain when Simon got there. Apparently someone had
heard the gunshots and called it in.
I sound awfully
calm about this now, don't I? Don't worry, I was anything but
calm then. I knew death couldn't break our bond, but I didn't
want our time in this lifetime to have ended so soon. We'd only
had three years. Well, we had seven if you count the four before
the dissertation, but we weren't fully bonded then.
I remember looking
up at Simon, my tears mingling with the rain on my cheeks, and
feeling like I was making the sky cry. Jim was gone. Violently.
And, oh, it hurt.
Simon practically
collapsed next to me. He laid his hand on Jim's chest for a long
moment, as if checking for motion, for anything, then he just
rested his head on my shoulder and cried.
It
is something to say that I've known this man as my friend; to
know that he cried for us. Because that's what he did. I knew as
surely as if I'd read his thoughts. Simon wasn't crying for Jim,
he was crying for what I'd lost, and for what he'd lost. That
awed me. And by the silence of the officers around us who had
also responded to the call, they felt the same.
I'd like to say the
funeral was a small, quiet affair, like Jim would have wanted,
but in truth, it was rather large. Jim had been one of the best
cops in Cascade, and all his brothers were there. Amazingly
enough, his father and brother were there too.
I held together
pretty well. In truth, I think Simon and the rest of the gang
were more of a mess than I was. In the days leading up to the
funeral, they all took turns staying in the loft with me. I
think they were afraid I'd do something stupid.
I
didn't have the heart to tell them it wasn't necessary; nature
would take care of that all on its own.
It was Simon who
came to the loft and found my body. I think the most painful
thing I've ever had to watch was Simon, breaking down in the
middle of our living room. He just knelt on the floor and cried.
For once, I actually wished I could give him a hug.
He finally pulled
himself together enough to get up and call for an ambulance.
Then he came back upstairs to sit with me. Actually, I think he
came upstairs to yell at me, but he got distracted. He found the
notes I'd left for him and the others.
Megan and Simon's
were the largest. We figured they deserved a full explanation
after all we'd put them through for the last several years. Yes,
you heard right. I said we. It may have only been my handwriting
on those letters, but I definitely didn't write them alone. Mine
was not the only voice present on those pages.
It was something
Jim and I had learned after the dissertation; when we finally
truly bonded as Sentinel and Guide, and as lovers. When we
bonded, we were linked together. Permanently. When one dies, the
other soon follows. Usually within the hour. One half of a
bonded Sentinel and Guide pair cannot live without the other. I
don't know if it was naturally set up as a fail-safe, so that
one partner wouldn't go insane, because truly, we could not,
cannot, live without the other. I can't think about that
anthropologically, or scientifically, though. I'm too close to
it. Jim laughs every time my mind wanders in that direction. He
says its proof that death hasn't changed me at all. When it
comes down to basics, Jim is the other half of my soul, and I
couldn't live without that. Who would want to?
The only reason I
lasted the four days I did, was because I had too many things in
our lives to get in order. And I couldn't leave without giving
Simon and Megan an explanation as to why we'd both gone, when
only Jim had been injured.
I
tried to explain all that to Simon and Megan, though I'm not
sure how well I succeeded. How do you explain to your friends
that you chose to be bound so strongly to another person that
you would die when they did? I hope they understood. I don't
want them all thinking I did myself in, because nothing could be
further from the truth. I just, both physically and emotionally,
couldn't live without Jim.
I went to my own
funeral. It's really weird, being able to say that, even if no
one could see me there. Jim just laughed and told me he'd felt
the same, only he hadn't had anyone to keep him company while he
watched. Me, I had a Sentinel blanket attached to my back. Not
that I minded. I think Jim was worried that I'd freak, watching
them bury me, but I was too worried about everyone else there
who was still living to be concerned about myself. Besides,
watching a funeral from the perspective of the deceased is a
really interesting exercise in cultural anthropology. The
rituals people go through are fascinating. Ummm... sorry about
that. Jim's laughing at me again. I get distracted easily.
It
was hard, watching Naomi, because I knew that as much as she
tried, she wouldn't be able to understand this. She could never
understand being that attached, that dependent, on another
person. Simon and the others had it rough, I knew, but they at
least had each other, and Simon had Daryl. Naomi, she didn't
really have anybody. That... that just hurt. Jim came up and
hugged me then. I think he knew exactly what I was feeling, like
he always does, and I was suddenly more grateful than I can say
that he was there for me.
Simon came back to
the loft, alone, after it was all over. He had escorted Naomi to
the airport already. I think she said something about going to
Nepal or Tibet to meditate and process for awhile. I hope she
finds some understanding and that peace she's been searching
for. Maybe I'll drop in to check on her every once in awhile,
but overall, I think we're staying in Cascade. Its our city, and
its people are our tribe.
I
watched Simon wander over to the mantle and pick up the panther
and wolf fetishes that rested there. We'd bought them on one of
our vacations in Peru a year or two ago. They came as a matched
set, the panther and wolf with sapphire eyes, and as soon as we
saw them, we knew we had to have them. We brought them home and
they'd been there, on the mantle, watching over us ever since;
like true replicas of our spirit guides. Simon dwarfed them in
his hand and muttered something I couldn't make out. Jim just
smiled and told me Simon had asked our permission to take them.
Something to remember us by, he said. I just smiled. They
couldn't be in better hands.
The year after our
deaths passed slowly. We popped into the bullpen of Major Crimes
regularly, where we had fun occasionally staring over everyone's
shoulders and making snarky comments. It was just something we
had to do. The gang had become our family, and even now we
couldn't desert them. We had taken on a responsibility as
Sentinel and Guide to guard our tribe, and that was something we
didn't feel comfortable relinquishing, even though physically we
couldn't be seen by any members of that tribe.
We tried to help
however we were able. And those little tickles of intuition that
Simon swears have my voice? Well, they do.