My heart stops. This ringing starts blasting in my ears and my vision starts to tunnel. Did I hear that right? No way! He’s out of town just taking a vacation. How could that bastard be gone? He should be here, not me. I’m the one who’s a waste of oxygen.

“Captain I… I don’t know what you’re saying.”

The captain sighs and picks up his cigarette. He taps off the ashes onto the carpeted floor and looks out at the window.

“He was sick, Scott.” he tells me.

“Sick? What do you mean?” I answer on baited breath.

He looks down to the ash charred carpet.

“He didn’t want anyone to know. But…” There’s a long pause before he looks me in the eye. “He had cancer, Scott.”

“There’s gotta be some kind of mistake. Aaron is in top shape. The guy never took a sick day.”

“He didn’t want anyone to know. He… he was refusing treatment. It was all a matter of time.”

Why the fuck didn’t he tell me? Sure we never talked all that much but this is different. The amount of friends we’ve lost together. I never thought he’d beat me to the end. And fucking cancer of all things.

“What kind?” I asked.

“Lungs.”

“That can’t be. The guy never smoked. He fucking hated it more than drinking.”

“Some things just don’t make sense Scott. I know you two had history. And I know this’ll be hard to handle. So why don’t you take the week off? Maybe go see his family or just take care of yourself.”

“I’m fine. The kid is finally getting her ears wet. I can’t leave on her now.”

“I wasn’t asking Hanes. I know you’ll get through this. But his family needs you right now.”

“I’m the last person Shannon wants to see right now. She never really liked me.”

“In a time like this. I don’t think that matters. Take the week. That’s an order.”

What the fuck will I do for a whole week? I’m not exactly the sulking type. He’s just another soldier who went down after all. Leave him on the field and keep moving forward right?

Right?

As I walk out I can see everyone's faces making a lot more sense. Looking at me like I’m some dog at the pound about to be put down. I’m the last one to find out by the looks of it. I can see the glissen in Ashe’s eyes. She’s trying to keep it together for me.

“You ok?” She asks in a broken voice.

“I’m fine. Let’s go. The fucking kids around here not to start their gossiping.”

She doesn’t say a word on the way down to the car. As we reach the gray light blanketing the sky she turns to me.

“I know you two were close. I just want you to know I’m here for you if you need to talk.”

“Fucking hell not you too. I said I’m fucking fine. I don’t need to be treated like a kid who just learned that Santa isn’t real. I’ve lost friends before. I’ve lost everyone. So I’m fucking used to it.”

I see the tears building in her eyes and her entire body stiffen up.

“It may not be much. But you still have me.”

“Who the fuck cares! You don’t even know me. You just see me as this great detective that can help you avenge your dad’s death by becoming this super cop. You don’t know shit about me. You don’t know the shit I’ve had to do to survive. Or that I stick a barrel to my head every night but I’m too chicken shit to pull the fucking trigger. You don’t know shit Kid. You are living in a fantasy world if you think that I’m worth more than a pile of dog shit someone steps on by accident.”

She stiffens even tighter than explodes.

“Don’t you ever talk to me like that again! I’m not some child that you think you need to take care of. I got here all on my own and I will be fine without you. You are just too much of a self-absorbed asshole to think that some people aren’t out to get you. You call me kid all the time but you are the one who needs to grow the fuck up!”

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With a big stomp she turns around and storms off.

“Kid!” I call, but she doesn’t look back.

Shit. Guess I’m just an asshole again. Whatever. She’s better off without me anyways.

I start walking home. It’s a good hour from the station so I’ll have a little time to cool off. Maybe I lashed out a little. She’s a good kid after all. I just don’t need that shit from her too. I’m not some wounded bird needing to be healed back to life. Midway through I feel a small trickle of water falling from the sky made colder by the fall winds.

“Of course.” I say to myself.

Shaw huh? I really thought he was going to be one of us to make it out alive. The guy was even able to sleep without nightmares most nights. He was strangely one of the strongest guys I ever knew. Nothing but a good soldier who never questioned the chain of command. Why the fuck wouldn’t he tell me. I thought we were close. I may not go to his place for Christmas or anything but come on. This is a little bigger than getting the last turkey leg. Was he suffering? I know he let me take most cases over the last couple of years but is that why? Who the fuck knows now. All that matters is that I’m the last one. Just here to be tortured by my ghosts. The rain really starts to pour. The kind that you can barely see two feet in front of you. My head is spinning. My chest is getting heavy. My lungs sting as I take in smaller and smaller breaths. I’m used to long walks home but this one is hard. I almost feel like I’m back in the forest with the enemy coming in close. Your legs are trying to give out every step but the man next to you keeps you going. We pushed each other so some of us could make it out. So few did. Some who did would have had a better fate being burnt to a crisp or impaled at the spike. I can still smell the burning flesh to this day. And the dried blood draped over the leaves. I don’t get it. The weather is nothing like those days. Why are they coming back to me now? Why am I afraid? Like every step might be my last. Every sound of a passing car makes me flinch. And how am I burning up in this freezing weather?

Finally, made it into my shithole. Every step up the creaking stairs brings back the memories of a trap being sprung. A door shuts on one of the higher floors which echoes down to my spine. You’d almost think it’s cannon fire. My breathing hasn’t settled once I’m in. My head is spinning faster and faster until I spill my bowels all over the carpet. My body begins to ache. I’m so heavy and I’m soaked. Feels like vapor is coming off my body with how hot I am. I finally crawl my way through the vomit spilled floor over to the bathroom. What the fuck am I so scared about? It’s like I’m seventeen again. I was so ready to take on the world. We go in guns blazing like wild horses only to be met by these sneaky fucks who made our life a living hell. The longer we were there the more I knew why some offed themselves. At least that way we don’t give them the satisfaction. It’s on our terms. The longer I lie on the steel cold tile floor the more I start to shake. “I just want to die.” I tell myself.

Why after all these years, after losing so much again and again, why Shaw? Why can’t I get the lucky way out. I’m as dead as the rest of them. But I’m still here. Then I hear it.

“Today.”

A whisper in my ear. Like a warm kiss beckoning me. Today I can do it. I can end this. Finally go back to her. I can rest. Today. It rings in my head louder and louder until it’s a blaring siren. Today. Peace. I get some power back in my legs driven by this goal. My gun is in the living room. If I make it there that’s all I need. Every foot I get closer is grueling. Finally. The smooth wooden handle in the palm of my hand for the last time. I bring it straight to my forehead. The feeling of the cold metal barrel is so soothing. My breathing has stabilized as well as my hands. I can do this. The trigger has no weight to it. My eyes begin to close. As they are on the verge of darkness I see a light in the corner of my eye. Something about it was distracting. It’s my answering machine. I haven’t checked it in a couple weeks. I’m not sure why but something was telling me to listen to them. Three messages.

First is some garbage about the apartment. Second is Shaw.

“Hey Scott. Guess you still don’t answer the phone. Just wanted to check in and make sure you haven’t made the rookies' life too difficult. Anyways. Call me when you get the chance. I have something to talk to you about.”

Fuck. I guess he was trying to reach out. I’m such a total piece of shit. Couldn’t even see that my friend was dying in front of me all this time. Third message.

“Hi Hanes…It’s Ashe. Listen, I'm sorry for what I said. I should have given you your space and I pushed too much. I was thinking about what you were saying and I’m really worried about you. Just… just let me know you’re ok. Ok bye.”

All of a sudden the gun gets heavy again. I can barely hold anymore. It drops to the floor and I fall to my knees. As I grip tightly to the carpet I begin to falter. Guess there’s always tomorrow. I cock my head back and stick my nose to the sky and take a deep breath. Just because I have nothing left doesn't mean I get out easy. Besides I don’t think Haley would ever forgive me if I left things the way they were.

The phone rings. She’s got to be checking up on me again. The girl really does care too much.

It rings again. I should answer it. Can’t make the kid worry.

“Listen Haley…I didn’t mean that shit I said earlier.”

There’s nothing from the other end of the line.

“Hello Detective.”

It's that voice.

“So sorry to hear about Shaw.” He says. It almost sounds sincere.

“Ok who the fuck is this?” I reply, snapping back at him.

“Now now Detective. We are just trying to extend an olive branch in your time of mourning.”

“Fuck your branch. What do you want?”

“We are growing tired Detective. It’s been weeks that we’ve left out the breadcrumbs and you haven’t even tried to find us.”

“And why the hell should I care who you are?”

“For a man who prides himself on catching every clue, I’m sorry to tell you that you’ve lost your touch.”

“Oh ya and what makes you say that?”

“We know you know about the urge.”

The urge? They can’t mean.

“Do any of your recent cases remind you of anyone Detective?”

The murders? Just some domestic stuff. Right?

“The urge gets us all some day, Detective. But not everyone can sweep it under the rug.”

The line goes dead.

Looks like it won’t be tomorrow either.