Disclaimers: Canon characters not mine. Not making any money from this.

Thanks to my betas Zoe and Ari.

Thanks to wolfpup for giving my work a home

Spoilers: Not really any. Maybe a teeny tiny one for 'Rogue', but blink and you'll probably miss it.

Warnings: Read this story after you have read "The End of a Guide". Lots of Angst (definitely a hanky warning. I was sniffling as I wrote it!)

Author's notes: This is a companion piece to "The End of a Guide". It is the letters that he wrote to each of the people that he loved.

Read these stories in the following order. 1: "The End of A Guide" 2: "Last Letters" 3: "Fight for Control" 4: "Another Life".


LAST LETTERS



Sam Mallory






Simon pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Damnit, the kid has actually left! Ellison's gonna be a mess, he thought sadly. I wish to hell that Sandburg had tried to talk to me before he just took off. Maybe I could have done something to help him out. He's a good man. He didn't deserve all the crap that Ellison slung on him. Hell, I wasn't much better, I guess. I just sat there on my ass in my office and watched it all happen. Kept telling him "You're not a cop, Sandburg!" Banks shook his head ruefully, honestly sorry when he thought about never seeing Sandburg again, heart sick that he'd had any part in him leaving everything behind.

I hope Blair keeps a level head and takes care of himself. God, I'm gonna miss that kid!


Daryl cursed as he balled the letter up tightly in his fist. Why did he have to leave? I can't believe he just left without saying anything to me or at least trying to say goodbye in person. I wouldn't have let him go. Tears were running down his face as he sobbed and threw the paper across his room. How could he do this to me? He stormed out of his bedroom slamming the door, feeling somehow betrayed and bereft, at the same time.


Megan pulled another tissue from the box as the tears streamed down her face. Oh, Sandy. Why didn't you come to me? I knew it was bloody horrible. I just didn't figure it was so bad that you would leave us all. I could kill Ellison. I won't get the chance to know you better. I really wanted that chance, mate. I hope that you take care of yourself.

God, I'll miss ya, Sandy.

And, yeah, only for you, I'll look out for the big, dumb, lug. I promise.


Rafe shook his head dismally as he read through the quickly scrawled note. Blair, man, I wish you would have told me things were this bad. We could have found a way to work it out. Hell, you could have crashed at my place if you needed to. Take care of yourself. Rafe set the letter on the table and went to find some aspirin, to quiet the throbbing pain that had taken residence behind his eyes.


Damn, Hairboy. I should've seen it comin'. What with Ellison bein' a prick an' all lately. Wish you coulda worked it out. You were the best damn partnership I've ever seen. Tight. Real tight. I wish you woulda asked for help. I'd a been there for ya! Henri folded the letter and placed it on the kitchen counter as he reached for the phone to call his own partner.


Oh, Blair. Joel shook his head as he stared at the letter in his trembling hand. The tears rolled down his face as his wife wrapped her arms gently around her suddenly stricken husband. You helped me so much, kid. Why couldn't you let me return the favor. I could have helped you. Given you a place to stay. Be careful, Blair. Stay safe. Don't take too many chances.

Joel turned his head into his wife and wept unashamedly as she stroked the back of his neck, whispering comfort to him to soothe his grief and sorrow.


Rhonda sighed heavily as the tears cut tracks down her face. Oh, Blair. Why didn't you ever say anything? I never realized what you were going through. How much pain you must have been in. How depressed you must have been. Please, look after yourself.


Jim had just grabbed a beer when he noticed the envelope with his name scrawled across it. He flinched at the sight of it. He knew things hadn't been good between him and Sandburg, but he was honestly afraid to find out what Blair had written.

He opened the envelope with shaking hands, tugging the paper free. Glancing at the letter within, he was stricken at the amount of thought that Blair must have put into it.

He scoffed coldly with self-derision. At least it didn't say, "You're an asshole! I'm outta here." That would actually have been more what he deserved.

Blair had given up everything for him; Ellison knew that. His career, his reputation, his dignity, everything. How could I have allowed Blair to divest so much for me? he thought with a stabbing pang of guilt.

I deserve a hell of a lot worse than what he's said.

Jim read the letter again slowly, taking in every word Blair had written to him. Committing every word to memory. Branding it to his very soul.

Swiping at his eyes, he gently set the letter down onto the table and stared vacantly at the Tupperware stacked there. Maybe he just needs some time and then he'll come back, Jim tried to convince himself, knowing that he was lying. Blair was gone, really gone, and wasn't ever coming back.

After the way that I've been treating him, why would he?

Fear warred with anger for dominance in his heart. Anger won. He threw the beer bottle at the French doors across the room. "What am I going to do?" he raged, sinking to the floor, suddenly too overcome to remain standing. "This isn't happening! This can't be happening..."

The End


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