Author's Notes: Thanks to Spacepixell for the beta job.
Warning: This is a Death Story.
Kateri
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Frank Donati demanded worriedly, watching the armed man in front of him uneasily. Not getting an answer, Frank started forward, but the hard look on the gunman's face stopped him. It was the look of death.
Still, without a word being uttered, Frank found himself loaded into his BMW and forced to drive. On Packard Ave. Frank finally realized who it was that had abducted him. With that knowledge also came the certainty of where they were going and the sinking feeling that he would not live long once they got there.
At the corner of Packard and 29th, the gunman, no, detective, Frank thought, motioned for him to pull over and get out. Frank complied busily scanning the area for a passerby, but unlike that evening three months ago there was no one here to witness him being held at gunpoint.
The detective, Frank still couldn't remember what his name was, marched him forward until they were in front of the now closed cafe.
"He just wanted a sandwich."
Startled, Frank jumped slightly at finally hearing his captor saying something.
"What?" Frank asked, confused by this statement.
"He just wanted a sandwich, why did you do it?" the detective asked, his voice cracking slightly though the gun remained steady. "He was the most decent human being I ever knew, the world needs men like him. I need him."
Frank relaxed slightly at the lost tone at the end. This he could handle, string the idiot along for a few until someone showed up.
"I didn't mean to do it, you have to understand that." Frank said trying to sound sincere. "If I had it to do all over again I wouldn't, I just panicked. I am so sorry and if there was anything I could do to fix it... I am just soo sorry."
At the second sorry the detective's head snapped up, and the gun that had begun to waver steadied and once again pointed straight at Frank.
"Bull shit, you aren't sorry at all. Daddy got you a high priced lawyer and got you off so you don't even have to be sorry about being caught."
Worried at the change in the detective's tone Frank began to inch his way backwards, but the grim faced man in front of him noticed. The detective's eyes narrowed and the gun moved to point at Frank's head.
"Move again and I'll splatter your brains all over the sidewalk."
Frank froze, the voice devoid of emotion sending a chill down his spine.
"You're a cop," Frank stuttered.
The detective just smirked while he reached down to unclip his badge and toss it to the side.
"You can't do this," Frank said darting quick looks around; it was only ten at night but the area was deserted with not even a car in sight. The gun was just lifted higher and sighted in between Frank's eyes.
"You can't. You won't!" Frank yelled bumping against the glass window behind him. Frank watched with a growing terror as the safety on the Sig Saur was clicked off, and the trigger was slowly squeezed.
"DETECTIVE DROP THE WEAPON." A loud voice boomed as a spot light was suddenly on them. All around them Frank could hear the sounds of guns being cocked and safeties being released. Ignoring the order the detective stepped closer and pressed the gun against Frank's temple.
Feeling emboldened by the presence of the cops and guns despite the gun at his temple, Frank sneered at his captor, "You heard them detective, drop it."
The next thing Frank knew he was on the ground gasping in pain, his head ringing from being pistol-whipped. Frank looked up, blood streaming from a cut on his forehead, to see his tormentor standing above him gun pointed down at him. Cold dead eyes regarded him coolly. Without turning his head he addressed the cop that had spoken, "I'm afraid I can't do that Captain."
"Don't do this detective, you're a good cop," the Captain said. "Don't throw it all away."
"He killed him. This scum stood here and gunned him down like he was nothing. Then he and his fancy lawyer got him off on a technicality."
"Think Detective, is this what your partner would have wanted?" the Captain asked.
"Don't talk about what he would have wanted," he said, getting angry. "He's not here to want anything. And this slime, who was not fit to even breathe the same air as him, is going to pay."
"I can't let you do that," the Captain said softly.
"And I can't let this piece of shit get away with killing the best man I ever knew. He made me a better person Simon."
"I know," Simon said sadly.
"We all have to do what we have to do." With those words he fired twice quickly into the body of the man at his feet. Three shots fired almost at the same time, caught him and spun him around violently before he landed on the ground.
Lying on the cold concrete, blood spreading out in an ever widening pool, he struggled to breathe as cops ran over. Before the scene could be secured, Simon knelt down next to the body of his detective. Pulling him into his arms he rocked him gently already mourning the loss of his friend.
"Why?" was all Simon could get out past his silent tears.
"It was the last thing I could do for my Sentinel. It was my... last duty... as a Guide."
With that Detective Blair Sandburg took one last shuddering breath and then let it out, his body going limp in the arms of his Captain. His last duty fulfilled, he was free now to join the other half of his soul.
The End