Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Pet Fly, UPN, Paramount, and The SciFi Channel
Much appreciation goes to Kathleen (K) for her beta work & to Iris for her helpful suggestions.
Carole
The two men stood quietly at the cemetery's entrance. Blair's eyes fixed on his partner's face; Jim's solemn gaze focused on the path ahead.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Jim?" Blair asked softly, compassionately.
"I need to, Chief," Jim sighed, a hint of pain coloring his words. "I never really got to say goodbye."
"Do you want me to wait here?"
"No." Jim took a deep breath, and then began to walk forward. Blair matched his steps, close by his side. Oblivious to the lightly falling rain, they reverently approached the grave.
As they drew near, Blair stopped, allowing Jim to take the last few steps alone.
Reaching out, Jim lightly traced the etched letters on the front of the tombstone. Daniel Choi. His eyes skimmed past the dates of birth and death, pausing as he reached the last words. He gave his life in the performance of his duty.
Jim took a shuddering breath, remembering Danny as he had been, not on that night filled with gunfire and blood, but beginning with the day that a lonely kid had latched on to an equally lonely man.
Bittersweet memories brought both joy and sorrow to the man who stood with head bowed. A tear slowly traced its way down Jim's cheek, and as the gentle kiss of falling rain began to mix with the tears falling from his eyes, he covered his face with his hands.
For a long moment Jim bore his grief alone, then, as he felt Blair moving closer to place a hand on his shoulder, he gratefully allowed the warmth and comfort of his friend's presence to settle over him.
They stood together in that sacred place, side by side, as the rain continued to fall.
"Thanks, Chief," Jim finally said, his voice breaking the stillness. He lowered his hands to look at Blair with a new-found serenity. "I'm ready to go home now."
Blair simply nodded, his hand sliding from Jim's shoulder to rest securely on his back.
Jim's eyes scanned across the engraved words one last time. "Rest in peace, Danny," he whispered in benediction as he turned to walk away.
~end~
January 2001