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Officer Holmes
Shadows Rising
Thu Mar 16, 2006 23:15
12.210.110.222

This was Hell. It had to be.

Lucy's comfort only did a bit of good, his family feeling more the nuisance than anything else. Why she even allowed him to weep quietly into her shoulder was beyond him. Even as the tears wound down, the emotions remained.

Loss, foremost. Grief; all he wanted to do was hold her again, to kiss the lips that reminded him of cherries and all things sweet. Guilt, he felt rather keenly. Already he knew that he had left Sonnet's family to deal with her... her... The mere thought brought about a fresh round of tears, somehow being coaxed to lay down with Luciana as a pillow. In one part of his mind, this was ridiculous. He shouldn't be sobbing like a little girl because his partner had died. Yet... The tears wouldn't cease their flow. Was he so damned weak? Apparently.

Once unconsciousness claimed him, Devon slept the sleep of the dead. Only blackness did he remember upon waking eventually, though his heart pounded with an unfamiliar view of a few sofas and a large television. His first thought was that he had left Sonnet behind at the hospital, but memory came crashing down. He felt chilled down to the bone, and alone. The living room was fairly dark, lit by a lamp off in a corner, casting shadows. God, what was he still doing here? Last he remember was using Lucy as a pillow, and... Then nothing. Jesus, what the hell had he been thinking?

"Feeling any better?" Devon jumped at the voice, craning his neck to watch Caleb as he walked into the living room.

"No." Nice and short answer, tone flat as could be. Yet he felt remorse. "I shouldn't have left Michael like that. Any of them." His drive to flee the hospital had been overwhelming, and now cowardice crept in, seeping through the cracks.

"Michael..." Caleb frowned, settling down on the couch. "When Lucy and I left, the first place we went to was California. The bay area." Devon tugged the blanket tighter around his frame, wondering what the hell his brother was talking about. "There was a theater there, the Bay Center for Performing Arts. Remember the Phantom production video?" Where was this going? "Michael was Raoul."

"Oh." Frowning, Devon peered at the glass and pill bottle on the table, just noticing the items. When had they been put there?

"Michael may have been an ass of astounding preportions, but..." Devon knew. No one should have to go through this. The man lost a sibling, he lost a partner in more ways than one, even if the relationship had just been blossoming. What was he missing out on? "Just don't take anything he says to heart, Devon," Caleb murmured, opening the bottle. "He's a bastard, and it will only multiply tenfold. Here."

The pills were small, shaped much like a V, and blue. Two were deposited in his hand, obviously he was supposed to swallow them. Devon knew exactly what they were, but why Caleb thought he needed Valium... On second thought... The pills were washed down with water, and he settled back, sinking further into the couch, hoping he could just disappear. Tomorrow would be something else all together; Isabel and Ben had lost their only daughter. He couldn't begin to imagine how difficult that was for them. And here he was, fukking moping about...

"I'm sorry," Devon finally managed, staring at the blank television. He couldn't even face Caleb, didn't see the confused look.

"Sorry? For what?"

"Everything. Every fukking thing I've done." He would not cry, could not cry! "I tried to hurt Lucy, and now I fukkin' cry on her shoulder. I don't deserve this." There, he had said it.

"Devon. Look at me." He didn't want to, even when he felt the sofa cushions sink beneath the weight of a second body. "Please." Forcibly biting his tongue, the officer turned towards Caleb, trying not to frown as his vision began to swim. "It was... hard, when that happened. I won't lie. But I've forgiven you, and I think Lucy has too." Devon tried to keep the vaguely hopeful expression of his face, but it obviously didn't work. "I know things change. I'm sorry that you lost Sonnet, I know you cared for her, Devon. Even if I'm grateful for what she did with Luce..." He understood; Caleb felt guilty that Lucy was alive and Sonnet wasn't.

"Can... Can we talk about this later?" Why were his words coming out slurred?

"Sure, Devon. C'mon, lets get you into bed."

The next day hadn't been any better. Instead of avoiding people, Devon forced himself to interact. He definitely was not chipper, but he could get by. Ending up borrow some clothing from Caleb, he cleaned up properly for the first in a couple of weeks. Hell, even borrowing his brother's largest clothes, they were still too snug. Quietly he had helped Lucy with breakfast, even aiding in the usual clean up afterwards, managing to give the woman a chaste hug and an apology. Yet before she could question him, he was out the door.

Apparently he was entitled to time off, according to the Chief, since his partner had died. Technically it wasn't in the line of duty, since she hadn't been at work, but Sonnet would receive full honors all the same. He'd never seen the blue forms that he had been forced to fill out, along with the family forms that he did take care of for Isabel. Devon didn't even second-guess himself on that; he doubted that Sonnet's parents would want to be filling out these fukking forms at a police station, while people hovered and gave their condolences. Shit, he didn't want to be doing it! Made everything just a little bit more real.

"Anything else?" Please don't let there be any more paperwork...

"How are you holding up, Devon?" No! Why the fukk did they have to have the one Chief in the greater NYC area with a heart?! He declined to answer, even allowed the silence to stretch uncomfortably. How the hell could he answer that question? He couldn't! "All right." Finally. "If you need--"

"I don't fukking need anything, Vince. All right?" His tone was harsh, and the line was likely inappropriate, yet Devon was beyond the point of caring now. But it wasn't going to stop there.

"I understand how you feel, Devon. I really do." What?!

"The fukk you do, Vince!" This shouting therapy was actually working wonders. Maybe the audience that was gathering would help out? "I fukking love Sonnet!"

Things hadn't become any easier after that, because he had decided to break one of the awards on the Chief's desk for valor. It had been a small crystal statue, now it was embedded in the carpet under heel. Yet still... no remorse. Devon had stormed out of the precinct afterwards, given wide birth by most everyone. He tried not to see the black bands across their badges as he shouldered past a few and practically ran out the exit, but they stood out; a glaring point in his mind. He thought that maybe if no one else acknowledged Sonnet's death, then it truly wasn't reality. He was a fool.

Then he had withdrawn. Oh, Devon still left the house, typically going to Isabel's to help her with the mundane everyday tasks. He had been entered into that nifty security system with the panel when having to take care of Sonnet, and he used it cart blanche. Though he did knock, and received no answer. Huh, not home. Well, he knew where everything was. Dusting, vacuuming, and dishes in the penthouse had never taken him very long. Only once did he peer into Sonnet's room, and got the chills for his troubles. After that, the door was firmly shut, and he disturbed nothing beyond that entryway. Couldn't. It didn't feel right, it wasn't his place.

Once he was done - hell, even the laundry had been folded and set in a basket, resting at the foot of Isabel's bed - Devon scrawled a quick note and taped it to the front door on his way out. Nothing fancy, neat and precise print from years of filing reports.

Mom --
Housework is done and the trash is out. There's a pot roast in the fridge when you get hungry. Eat, please? Call me if you need anything.
Love,
Devon


He didn't even hesitate when he signed off on the note, just dashed a silly little smiley face beneath his name, and scooted on out of the building after making sure everything was locked up.

Then... It happened. The day he hadn't wanted to even think about yet had arrived. Officially D-Day.

Devon woke that morning, just like the last few, with his face buried in the pillow praying that it was all a bad dream. But it wasn't, and he couldn't deny it any longer. Forcing himself to get up, he was unusually meticulous about readying for the day. From washing to shaving, even bothering to comb his hair for once. Even down to trimming his fingernails.

Then the dress blacks were set out, which weren't worn very often at all. Formal events, funerals, things of that nature. Dressing in the uniform was done in the same meticulous fashion as everything else that morning, carefully settling his hat upon his brow. Then the moment he had been dreading. Ever so carefully, Devon wound the black band about his badge, straightening it once completed so it obscured the upper half. And then, only once his firearm and accompanying items were secured, did he feel safe enough to leave the apartment.

Where he lived was open-terraced, so as to have stairs leading up to a set of doorways side-by-side, which were two seperate apartments. For some reason, it felt like everyone in the complex was down in the courtyard or parking lot today, staring at him. It was such a silly thought, but it did not stop the sensation of eyes upon him. Not until he was in the car and driving away.

It was a shame he couldn't run from this, as well.

  • CondolencesSniffles, Tue Mar 14 23:45
    They arrived in under an hour. Ms Isabel Marchand, Mrs Ben Adams and Hugh Pierson. None of the three looked healthy, Isabel especially had that waxy look Michael tended to associate with mannequins.... more
    • Shadows Rising — Officer Holmes, Thu Mar 16 23:15
      • In Memoriam, Pt 1Michael Pierson & Crew, Thu Mar 23 08:58
        Mom -- Housework is done and the trash is out. There's a pot roast in the fridge when you get hungry. Eat, please? Call me if you need anything. Love, Devon It was staring at him blatantly when he... more
        • In Memoriam, Pt 2Michael Pierson & Crew, Thu Mar 23 11:58
          Through many dangers, toils and snares I have already come. 'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, And grace will lead me home. Luciana Holmes’ voice gave a surreal sense of awe to the hymn,... more
          • Obligations and CommitmentsDevon Holmes, Sun Apr 9 23:23
            He wasn’t ready for this. “Sonnet was…” Devon paused, still feeling Lucy’s song wrap about him, swaddling his body in a comforting blanket. “The worst partner anyone could have asked for.” Only his... more
            • Final FarewellsVittorio Castelluccio & Company, Sun Apr 9 23:24
              How the hell had it come to this? “Someone will be by shortly to retrieve your belongings, Signa Holmes,” Vittorio found himself murmuring into his cell phone. Matteo had extended his offer, via Vic, ... more
              • Ordinary DaysLara Sorensen, Mon Apr 10 09:21
                Standing on the edge of time Playing out a reckless pantomime And every day's another wrong to rectify I dream about a stranger's touch And voices in my head I cannot hush And every night's a hunger... more
                • Rat-a-tat-tatBennet Holmes, Tue Apr 11 23:40
                  “Dad, do I have to do this?” “Damn it all, Bennett, yes!” Benny sighed, refusing to fidget while his father adjusted the previously perfectly good knot in his tie. Oh, he knew very well he was acting ... more
                  • Jabberwocky WalkingGeno Castelluccio, Thu Apr 13 00:39
                    The dream was back. It was always the same. Every so often those nightmares would crop up in his subconscious during sleep, twisting the previously pleasant images into horrific creatures straight... more
                    • VignettesMoose and Squirrel, Fri Apr 14 23:54
                      Tell me already! Lara giggled to herself, rolling over onto her stomach to eye the panicked, and brand-spankin-new drummer for her band. Their band. It had taken forever to convince Benny that they... more
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