Standard Disclaimer: They're not mine. No money made. They belong to Pet Fly... yadda... yadda... yadda

Thanks for the beta job, Kim. I promise that someday I will learn how to use a comma. Really, I will.

MY BROTHER



Trishbsc





At the Loft
Monday Night, November 22

Blair opened his eyes. Why am I awake? It's still pitch-black outside. Something must have woken me up.

He got out of bed and opened the door to his room. Entering the living room, he still didn't notice anything out of place. Then, he noticed Jim outside on the balcony. He was only wearing his robe and his slippers, holding in one hand the letter that had arrived that afternoon. Blair went over to the balcony door, not really sure what to say.

Before he could say a word, Jim started to talk. "Why, Blair? Why did he do this? How could he? I just don't understand." Jim lowered his head to where his arms were resting on the railing of the balcony.

Blair didn't know what to say. He didn't understand what had gone so horribly wrong either. "I don't know, Jim. I don't think we'll ever know."

He walked over to where Jim was standing. Tugging on Jim's sleeve, he said firmly, "Come on inside. It's too cold out here."

Jim didn't argue. He allowed Blair to lead him inside.

At the Loft
Friday Afternoon, November 12

Blair heard Jim on the phone as he walked in the door. Putting the groceries down on the kitchen counter, he realized that Jim was talking to his brother. Jim waved at him as he continued to speak.

"Steven, don't worry so much about it."

Oh, this doesn't sound like good news, Blair thought to himself as he started to put the groceries away.

"Steven, listen to me. You're a respected businessman in this community. It's your first offense. The judge shouldn't be too hard on you."

Judge? Steven had been arrested. Blair put the milk into the refrigerator as he continued to listen.

"Really, Stevie. You'll probably only get a fine, maybe some community service or a requirement to attend AA."

Steven is an alcoholic? This really doesn't sound good. The groceries can wait. He knew he shouldn't eavesdrop, but he was Steven's friend, too. He wanted to know what was going on. Jim noticed that Blair's attention was focused on the phone conversation and he nodded that it was OK to listen.

"Stevie, I'm not upset with you and I'm definitely not ashamed of you. There is nothing you could ever do to make me ashamed of you. You're my little brother."

Jim glanced over at Blair, shrugging his shoulders as he tried to find the words to comfort his little brother. "Judgement gets impaired after anyone's had a couple of drinks. It was a stupid mistake. You have a lawyer working on this, right?"

Jim nodded as he heard Steven's answer. "So what's he telling you?"

"Right, same thing I'm telling you. So, would you relax, a little? Everything will be OK. Blair? Yeah, he's standing right here. Yeah, he knows what's going on."

Jim rolled his eyes, as he answered, "No, he's not upset or disappointed with you either."

Blair mouthed the word 'worried' to Jim.

"No, he says he's worried about you. When is the court date and would you like us to be there. You know, for moral support?"

"Fine, no problem. We'll be there. I'll talk to you later, OK?"

Jim paused for a minute, before responding to what Steven had just said with a smile, "I love you too, kiddo."

"Yeah, I know. Don't call you, kiddo. Falls under the rule of big brother's prerogative. Bye."

Jim looked over at Blair. "You catch all that."

"Mostly, did he get pulled over?"

"No, he ran his car off the road. No one was hurt. There wasn't even any property damage, other than to Stevie's car. He got lucky."

"Sounds like it. So, when is the court date?"

"Next week, on Thursday."

Blair nodded and returned to the task of putting the groceries away. Jim helped out by putting away the groceries that belonged in the freezer.

"So, there are big brother rules in addition to house rules, huh?" Blair asked as they were working.

"Much longer list. Did I forget to give those to you? What was I thinking?" Jim answered with a whap to the back of Blair's head.

At the loft
Very Early - Thursday Morning November 18

When the doorbell rang, it was a little after 4:00 AM. Oh man, Mom, how could you? Jim's going to kill me, thought Blair. His mother was the only person he knew of that would have the nerve to come to someone's house at this hour. Blair reached the door before Jim was halfway down the stairs. Blair removed the chain, and opened the door. Irritation turned quickly to fear as soon as he saw Simon standing in their doorway.

"Blair, where's Jim? I need to talk to both of you." Oh God, Simon just called me Blair! He never calls me that unless it's something really bad.

Blair gestured for Simon to come in. Unable to form a single word, he just pointed towards Jim who had made it down the stairs and was standing next to the couch.

"Earlier tonight, dispatch got a call reporting a death. Dispatch recognized the name of the victim and turned it over to Major Crimes."

"It wasn't one of the gang, was it?" Blair interrupted.

"No, Megan and Joel went out to the scene and investigated. Turns out it was a suicide. Jim, it was your brother, Steven."

"NO! No way, Stevie wouldn't have killed himself. He had to much going for him."

"I'm sorry, Jim, but they confirmed it. They're sure it was a suicide."

Jim couldn't say anything. He just stood there, shaking his head. No, this isn't happening, not Steven. Steven wouldn't do that. He had so much to live for. Jim's legs buckled out from underneath him. Both Blair and Simon grabbed for him, trying to keep him from falling to the floor. They helped Jim sit down on the sofa. Blair sat down next to Jim with one hand on his back. Simon sat down on the coffee table, still holding onto Jim's shoulder.

"How... What... Tell" Jim couldn't get the words to come out. He heard Blair quietly ask what he couldn't.

"How did it happen, Simon?"

"In the garage, the car was left running. There was an empty liquor bottle in the front seat with him. There were no signs of injuries. No signs that anyone else was present."

Jim still couldn't speak. Blair must be reading my mind thought Jim when he heard Blair's next question. "It could have been an accident. He passed out before he turned the car off."

Simon shook his head. "I waited until I had the tox report back from the lab so that I could tell you for sure what had happened. He was drunk, but not drunk enough to have passed out by accident. This was intentional."

"Did they find a note?" Jim asked, as he finally found his voice.

"No, not yet."

Jim climbed to his feet and started to head for the door. "I need to go to his place. I need to examine the scene for myself. I need to be sure of what happened."

"Not right now, Jim." Simon said, gently, blocking Jim's path to the door. "We need you to come down to the morgue. Do a proper identification."

Jim nodded. "Has anyone told my father and Sally yet?"

"No, we thought you would want to do that yourself. I'll drive the two of you down to the station."

"I'm not an invalid, I can drive myself. Sandburg, if you want to come along hurry up and get dressed. I'll be down in five minutes," Jim angrily answered as he headed for his bedroom.

Simon started to say something about his tone, but Blair's hand on his arm stopped him. "Let him go, Simon. He needs to take control right now. I'll stay with him. You meet us at the station. Make sure Dan has everything ready. We'll be fine."

Simon nodded and left the apartment. Blair quickly got dressed and was standing at the door ready to go as Jim came down the stairs. As Jim was reaching for his jacket, he glanced guiltily over at Blair. "Chief, I'm sorry for ordering you around before. I had no right."

"No reason to apologize, Jim. You're under a lot of stress right now. I understand. Whatever you need, just say so."

"How are you doing, Chief? He was your friend too."

"I don't think it has really hit me yet. Right now, all I'm feeling is confusion."

Jim opened the front door and motioned for Blair to exit. "Let's go find out what happened."

Cascade PD

It was a long night for both men. The trip to the morgue was painful. Jim had slipped into his soldier mask when Blair wasn't looking. Blair couldn't see a single emotion cross Jim's face during the identification process. Jim quickly completed the necessary paperwork and collected Steven's belongings.

The visit to William Ellison's home was even worse. Blair stayed in the living room, trying his best to comfort Sally. Jim and his father had moved into the den, but Blair could still hear the yelling through the closed doors.

"What was that boy thinking? Damn it, he had the best of everything. Nice home, full bank accounts, a pretty girl on the side, what more could he have wanted?"

"I don't think those were the things that were important to him, Dad."

"How would you know? Look at you. Living in that crummy loft. Of course, that's all you can afford as a civil servant. I won't even discuss that reject from the 60's you took in."

Jim tried counting to ten, as his father ranted on.

"I don't believe he did this to me. How am I going to face my friends at the Country Club next week? My son was weak. After all the effort I put into the two of you, you both turned out weak."

Jim had to leave. It was either leave or commit a felony. "He didn't do this to you, Dad. He did it to himself," Jim said, as he left the room. He called out to Blair, then left his father's house, not a home, just a house. This wasn't a place he ever wanted to come back to again.

The next stop was Steven's condo. Jim had to check out the car and garage himself. When he got into the car, he had to dial his sense of smell down as far as he could. The smell from the car exhaust had permeated the upholstery. The smell was both distinctive and nauseating, not something easily forgotten. Behind the front seat, he found a pair of glasses. He could tell they were Steven's. They still held a trace of his scent. Jim put them in his pocket. He didn't find anything else in the car. Nothing to contradict that it had been anything other than a suicide.

He and Blair headed into the condo. Jim had contacted Am-Vets. They were going to come pack everything up. It was all going to be sold off or donated to charity, except for the things that was specifically listed in Steven's will. The lawyer had already removed those things from the property.

There were some things that Jim wanted to keep, mementos from their childhood, certain keepsakes. Blair was flipping through a couple of photo albums with Jim standing over his shoulder giving a running commentary of the people and events depicted in the photos.

In the last photo album, Jim didn't recognize very many people. Most of the pictures were relatively recent. One thing that Jim noticed was that in most of the pictures, Steven had a drink in his hand. How long had Steven had this problem and why hadn't anybody noticed it?

Watson Funeral Home
Early Afternoon - November 20

The services were held on the following Saturday. They were well attended by Steven's coworkers and friends. Cascade PD personnel were also present in large numbers. All of Major Crimes was there, along with most of the support staff.

Jim was just finishing discussing pleasantries with Steven's boss. He had learned from the man that Steven had just had a run of bad luck with some of his investment deals. He was still doing well compared to most people, but that wasn't good enough for Steven.

After he had been arrested for the DWI, he had tried to quit, but his boss wouldn't let him. He had told Steven that he was too valuable to lose. That they would work it out, the company had a wonderful counseling program for employees with problems like his. They had given him a referral and kept him on the payroll.

He looked around the room for Blair. He watched as Blair was talking softly as he supported a very nice looking blonde who couldn't seem to stop crying. To Jim, it appeared that Blair was very uncomfortable, which was kind of a surprise. Blair was usually very good in these situations. He headed over to find out what had Blair so upset.

"Jim, this is Candace. She was Steven's girlfriend."

"He had asked me to marry him, I said no," she sobbed. "I told him I just wasn't ready. I loved him, but I just wasn't ready for marriage. I thought he understood. Oh God, this was my fault."

Jim pulled her into a tight hug. Speaking softly to her, "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. It just happened."

The woman just continued to sob as if her heart was broken. Megan, noticing how uneasy both men looked now, took control of the situation. "Come along, love, let's head to the washroom." She nodded to Jim and Blair as she led the women out of the room.

Jim and Blair headed over to where Simon and Joel were standing together by the front door.

Looking past the two Captains, Jim could see his father and Sally sitting outside. He had refused to come inside. William Ellison was angry. As protocol had demanded, he attended the wake, but he refused to enter and no one could change his mind.

Sally didn't want to leave him alone, so she remained outside with him. Sally saw Jim staring at them. She smiled through her tears and gave him a little wave.

Sally had become the mother he had lost as a boy. Jim stumbled as he realized the significance of the date of Steven's death. Blair caught him before he fell. "Jim?" he questioned.

"Sandburg, I just realized what date Thursday was. He did it on our mother's birthday. God, I didn't think he even remember her. He never seemed to miss her when we were growing up. Do you think that had anything to do with this?"

"I don't know. It seems like a bunch of little problems just added up. He was overwhelmed by it all," Blair answered.

"If I go keep my Dad company, would you give Sally a hand? She's not as young as she used to be. She needs to say good-bye too, but she won't leave my Dad alone out there."

"Sure, Jim, no problem."

Nodding at Simon and Joel, they headed outside.

Sunday November 21 - Greenpeace Cemetery

It was raining. That wasn't unusual in Cascade, but today it was fitting. The funeral was almost over. As Blair looked around, he realized that the funeral was more crowded then the wake the day before. He remembered sitting in the back of the limo with Jim, Sally and William. There was no conversation, so Blair had passed the time counting the cars in the procession. The funeral procession was almost one hundred and fifty cars long. A few of Cascade's finest on motorcycles had been assigned traffic detail for the short drive from the church to the cemetery.

He wondered if Steven had known just how many people respected and loved him. Would he still have done this if he knew or did he know and it just wasn't enough? Blair didn't want to think about it anymore. He was tired. He hadn't been sleeping very much the last couple of days. Neither had Jim. Both of them had spent a lot of time in front of TV watching the late show and then the late late show.

Once the graveside service was over, everyone headed home. As he and Jim headed for the limo, Blair figured out what had been bothering him the worst about the last couple of days. Blair had yet to see Jim truly mourn the loss of his brother. He had dealt with the identification at the morgue. He had made all the arrangements for the funeral. The mask had not slipped even as they had cleaned out Steven's condo. He had been able to laugh and talk about some of the fond memories of their childhood, but he had yet to mourn and to let go of the pain.

Monday, November 22 - At the Loft

"I'll get the mail, Jim. I'll meet you upstairs."

"OK, I'll get dinner started."

Blair pulled out his key and opened the mailbox door.

He grabbed the large bundle of mail and headed for the elevator. Standing in the elevator, he started to sort through the mail. Junk, Junk, I may have already won, definitely junk, whoa, what's this?

Two letters in executive envelopes caught his attention. They were in Steven's handwriting. One letter was addressed to him. The second letter addressed to Jim. When the elevator doors opened, his attention fixed on the letters in his hand, he ran smack into Jim.

"Chief, what's wrong? Your heart's going a mile a minute."

Blair simply held out the letter addressed to Jim. Jim took the letter and, without a single word, turned back into the apartment. Blair followed Jim into the living room where they both sat down. Blair broke the ice by opening his letter and reading the contents. After a moment Jim did the same.

Jim was reading his letter at the same time.

"Do we have to turn these in as evidence?"

"No, it's already been ruled a suicide."

Blair just nodded as he went to his room and put the letter in his keepsake box. He would fulfill Steven's last wish. Even if it was the last thing he ever did.

William Ellison stood by his fireplace. A letter held in his hands, in Steven's handwriting, postmarked the day after he died. He thought for a moment about opening it. Then shook his head and dropped the letter into the fire. There was nothing in there he wanted to see. It was too late. It was too late for explanations or recriminations, or words of forgiveness. Whatever words were written in that letter didn't matter any more. He watched the letter burn until there was nothing left. It was too late for him to tell Steven all the things that he should have said a long time ago.

Blair finally convinced Jim to come in from the balcony. He got Jim settled on the couch wrapped up in the afghan. Blair went into the kitchen to heat some water for tea. As he was pouring the hot water over the tealeaves he happened to glance over Jim. Jim was still staring at the letter, but tears were running down his face.

Finally, thought Blair as he abandoned the tea. Blair sat down on the arm of the couch. He wrapped his arms around Jim. With that additional height he could tuck Jim's head under his chin. "Let it go, Jim. Let it all go."

Jim did. Now, the healing could begin.

The End

In memory of David and Kenny.

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