End of Reality

Death story
by Lucy

I can't remember a time when this ache wasn't in my chest.

I know there was a time -- technically, this ache couldn't have existed before a year ago. I know exactly when it started, so it's stupid to believe that there was never a time that it wasn't there. But that's how I feel.

It seems strange, even to me. I am a father, a Captain. For fifteen years I was the proud and dutiful husband to a strong, beautiful woman whom I deeply loved. There was no sign before a year ago that I was anything but a normal man with normal desires.

When I first started developing this ache, I found it strange. I figured it had to be something, anything, besides what I thought it was. The cause of that feeling simply couldn't be another man. I mean, if I were to step back and open my mind and forget all normal restrictions in my thinking, I could look at Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg and see that they were both attractive, appealing men. If I were gay, or bisexual, or whatever, I should have felt something for them, right?

Not that I would ever tell them any of that.

Fact remains, I couldn't believe myself to be gay. My entire life before twelve months ago had set a definite pattern. I had a wife, I had my old high school sweetheart. I liked women.

And then, suddenly, I didn't.

Well, no, that's not entirely true. I still liked women, I guess, but suddenly there were complications.

Brian Rafe was a new officer, fresh from Patrol. I met him the first day he came in, shook his hand and showed him around, and left him in the hands of his new partner.

I went to my office, had a seat, and wondered why my heart was racing at twice its normal speed.

Ever since then, I noticed a pattern. When Rafe and Brown would report in to me, my heart would start thumping again. When I would greet Rafe in the mornings, it would set the stage for my entire day. If Rafe was smiling, I would feel inexplicably happy. If he looked upset, or tired, or anything else, I would worry about it for the rest of the day.

It made no sense. I tried to not wonder about it. I tried to deny it to myself. That's where the ache came from. The more I repressed my feelings, the deeper the ache got.

So I ached, for a very long time.

It started getting better recently. Strange that an ache in my chest would fade while I was in the hospital recovering from a bullet wound, but it did. At least I was getting released. Or thrown out, depending on who you talked to.

I had called Rafe, because he visited me the day before. He came in after getting grazed in the temple by a madman's bullet, and we spent an afternoon talking. It was nice. He was a little tense, but so was I. We hadn't talked that often on a personal level through the last year, so I imagine he had reservations about talking to his boss in a setting other than the office.

I would have liked to think there was some other reason for his nervousness. There sure was more to mine.

It was the first time I had been alone with Rafe, for any reason other than station business. I kept the conversation casual, but my mind and body were going nuts. I wanted nothing more than to smile at him a little more affectionately, and try to get to know him as a person, not just a junior officer.

And so today, earlier, I called him to give me a lift. I knew he would be home, and didn't want to call Jim and Blair away from the station. We had a surprise to spring on the kid.

The moment he walked in, my grouchiness faded and I could smile. "Brian. Get me out of here."

The nurse left us alone and he smiled at me easily. "Tell me again why we're going to the station."

"I'm meeting Jim, we've got a little surprise for Blair." I explained to him as we wheeled me down to the elevator and outside about our plans to make Blair a cop. After that press conference, Sandburg needed a lift.

"It's our fault the kid got kicked out of Rainier. This is really the only thing in my power to do. If there was some way I could..." I summed up with a shrug. I knew it wasn't enough. The kid was a good partner for Jim, but he wasn't a cop at heart, and I knew it.

Brian seemed to read my mind. "It's a start," he said simply.

I met his eyes as he opened his door, and again found myself wondering at how much his presence could make me feel. As awkward as it was to talk to him on a personal level, I felt so comfortable in his company. I felt more at home with him than I did with most anyone else. Strange, considering we had only gotten to be on a first-name basis with each other the day before.

"Come on, let's get you in here." He helped lift me out of the chair and into the front seat.

Then he leaned in around me and moved to fasten my seatbelt.

And suddenly he was right there in front of me, his hands precariously close to my lap. I had the quick fear that something may happen to alert him to my feelings about him. "Um. Brian?"

He tossed a smile up at me. It made my heart skip a beat. "Uh huh?"

"I'm not helpless."

He glanced down at the belt he was fastening, and actually blushed.

Does it seem ridiculous that I thought that was one of the most charming things I'd ever seen?

He started pulling back, and his head went up too fast, banging on the roof of the car.

I reached for him, immediately concerned due to his already injured head. My hand went to the back of his head as he caught his balance. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He gave a sheepish little laugh, and met my eyes. His mouth moved like he was going to say something, but he stayed quiet.

Time stopped dead for me. We were so close together, and I was still touching him. Our eyes were locked together, and for once there was anticipation and not aching in my chest. I searched his expression, wondering if there was any chance to make something happen between us. Wondering if he could possibly ever return the feelings I had been hiding for so long.

My hand moved before I was conscious of it. The next thing I knew, I had drawn him down to me and my lips were brushing against his.

Reason only deserted me for a moment, though, and when it came back, I released him, shocked by my own actions. Panic started filling up in me, and I was certain I had just made the biggest mistake in my life.

His eyes, the most beautiful hazel, expressive eyes I had ever seen, were also surprised, and a little uncertain.

Just when I thought he was going to ask if he should maybe take me back in and get my head checked out, the impossible happened.

He kissed me. He leaned down the extra few inches and pressed his lips to mine. It was short, and then the contact was gone, but it was enough to set my senses reeling.

He pulled back and studied at me seriously. His eyes were tinged with relief and concern. He looked like I felt -- like a burden had suddenly been lifted off his chest, but was still floating over him ready fall back down.

But he kissed me. And looked so concerned about it that I knew it couldn't have been a spur of the moment thing. He *had* to have felt something for me, or else he wouldn't be so worried.

The thought brought a smile to my face that I couldn't hold back. "Well. What do you know?"

He laughed, still slightly nervous. We shared another moment of eye contact, and then he pulled out of the car and shut the door, going back to stick my chair in his trunk.

My eyes followed his movements through the rear-view mirror. My heart was going a mile a minute. It was all in the air now. When he got back, we could either go on like the last five minutes never happened, or we could try and go further with it.

I was too nervous to press the issue myself. I had to see what Brian was going to do.

He climbed in, shut the door, and started the engine. For a minute my heart sank, certain he'd start driving and not say a word to me.

Instead, he kept the car in park and turned to me. "So..."

I smiled, at the same time telling myself not to be too hopeful. "So."

He swallowed. "So maybe we could go out and get some dinner after this surprise of yours."

I felt as the load that had been with me for a year went flying out the window. I deliberately phrased my words, making sure we were clear about this. "Sounds good. I haven't had a dinner date in a while."

He didn't reply, but when the car started moving and I glanced over at him, there was the biggest smile I had ever seen on his face.

Unbelievable. He felt something too. God, we were actually going to do something about it.

*********

That night, I was sitting there, nervous, waiting for him to come and get me. I cursed the stupid wheelchair, knowing it was going to damper the evening. What I wouldn't have given to be at a hundred percent that night of all nights. I could get out of the chair and walk, honestly, but not for too long.

It was twenty minutes after the time he was supposed to arrive. I tried not to read too much into that. After all, dinner was his suggestion, there'd be no reason for him to break it off without a phone call at least.

I should have been worried about a lot of things. I should have been worried that we're both men, and that very fact makes a relationship between us difficult to say the least. I should have been concerned about what Daryl would say, or what Jim, my best friend, would say. I should have been concerned about the regulations of the department, and what would happen if we were found out.

Instead, I was only worried that he was twenty...two...minutes late. Once he got there, I wouldn't even think to worry about anything.

I just wanted to see this happen. It was so unbelievable to me, after a year of watching and wishing and wondering over my own feelings. I wanted him to be there and real and prepared to go out on an actual date.

I was waiting for the car to pull up, but instead the phone rang. I picked it up apprehensively, not sure if I could handle an excuse and cancellation after the roller coaster my feelings had been on lately.

"Simon?"

I relaxed when I recognized Jim's voice. "What's up?"

"I just got a call at the desk about a hold-up in progress at First National Bank. Some asshole has a bomb and hostages, and they called us directly."

I frowned. Bad news, but I couldn't help wondering why they would call Major Crimes directly.

"Sandburg and I are going to check it out. You coming?"

"Be there in ten." I hung up quickly, hiding my frustration even though there was no one around to see it. After ten years at this I knew full well that a captain's job is never done. There's no such thing as off-duty. Still, it was the worst of all possible times.

I debated leaving a note for Rafe, and minutes later left the house without one. I had the strangest feeling that it wasn't necessary.

*******

The first problem I could see with that particular branch of the First National Bank, was that it was attached to the bottom floor of an office building. It was right after six, so most of the employees had probably gone home for the night. But it was doubtful they shut the place down, and there might always be a door from the bank into the building. Which meant if they didn't have the perp in their sights, it could get dangerous.

There were police cars everywhere, typical of Cascade. We always managed to send a hundred guys to the scene of the crime exactly two minutes after it wasn't going to do any good.

SWAT wasn't there yet, or the bomb squad, which was odd. I pulled up in one empty spot and managed to get out of the car and limp over to where the largest gathering of officers was. I wasn't about to wheel over there in the wheelchair, and as long as there was a car or something I could lean against, I would be all right.

I was walking along when I noticed a familiar car in the parking lot. It wouldn't have jumped out at me, but I had ridden in that car earlier that day, so it was still fresh on my mind.

Rafe's car. Here at the bank. Maybe he heard about it over the radio. That would explain why he'd been late.

I relaxed infinitesimally at that.

Jim Ellison caught sight of me and headed over, meeting me halfway and walking with me back towards the group of officers. I wasn't going that fast, I admit it. My chest was hurting and I was still pretty weak.

"All of the hostages have been released, except one." Jim's voice was serious. "Which is both good and bad. We talked to the manager of the bank, and he said that Rafe managed to talk the guy into releasing--"

"Rafe?" The name zapped all the moisture out of my throat. "What about Rafe?"

"He's the one, he's still in there. He was there when this guy showed up. He talked the guy into releasing the other hostages and holding on to him. Our last contact was about five minutes ago, but he should be back on the phone in another five."

I couldn't breathe. For a long moment, I forgot how to function at all. Fortunately, ten years in the same job had bred a sort of professionalism in me, and that came out almost as a reflex. I kept moving. "What's he asking for?"

"Safe passage out of Washington. He wants a car, and he wants all the roads going to I 5 blocked off. He's threatening the building if we don't comply, and from the description the manager gave us, I'd say he has enough C-4 to do the job."

Rafe was in with that psycho. That was all I could think about. I had to get him out of there.

"Any word about Rafe?"

"The manager said he was fine. He wasn't hurt. We haven't been able to talk to him."

"Where the hell is SWAT and the bomb squad?" We had reached the other officers by now, but Jim kept talking.

"SWAT should be here any minute. The squad is stuck in traffic on Main."

"Great." I turned my eyes to that building. Somewhere in there was a nut job armed with C-4, and my Rafe. This would happen the night I had finally fared to speak my feelings. This would happen the day I discover those feelings were returned.

Five minutes passed relatively quickly, and when Jim's cell phone rang, I answered it. "This is Captain Simon Banks."

"Captain, where's my car?"

I almost groaned. This guy was obviously panicked. He was on the edge, nervous and high-pitched. "The car's here, but we need a little more time to get the roads blocked off."

"Five more minutes. That's it. After that this place is smoke."

"All right, listen to me. We're complying, now you do something for us. Let me talk to the officer you're holding. Let me make sure he's okay.

The man paused. "All right. Just for a minute."

There was a pause, and some muffled noise, and suddenly Rafe was on the line. "Hello?"

"Brian, it's Simon." I kept my voice low, even though Jim was listening in. I didn't need everyone around to know our business, but there was no way to maintain professional distance, not the way I was feeling.

He actually laughed somewhat nervously. "I'm late, I know."

I smiled, but my heart was pounding. "You just hang on in there, we'll get you out."

"That would be good." His voice lowered. "Simon, this guy is mental. He's really crazy, you'd better be careful dealing with him."

"It's you we're worried about." I started to say more, but there was another muffled noise, and then the first voice was back.

"That's good enough, Captain. I'll call you in another...four minutes."

There was a click, and a dial tone.

I handed the phone to Jim and avoided his questioning eyes. "How's the road block?"

He glanced over at another detective, who was on the phone. He listened for a brief moment. "They're still setting up. They're going to close him off on I 5 as soon as he's far enough away from Cascade not to blow anything important if he does set off the C4."

"Good." I turned my eyes to the mirrored windows of the bank. This was going to be bad. The man might even take out a few of the cars in the roadblock if he sets the explosives off close enough.

There was a pause, and Jim turned to me finally with an odd look on his face. I knew what was coming, but I returned his gaze evenly.

"What was Rafe late for?" he asked quietly.

I met his eyes. "What do you think?"

He blinked at me, then turned back to the building. Maybe it was the darkness or the play of the flashing lights, but I could swear he was almost blushing. I don't know why. I knew he and Blair had finally taken that last step and become a couple. He seemed almost embarrassed about something. I wanted to know what, but this definitely wasn't the time or the place.

All I wanted was to get Rafe out of there, take him back to my place, and just be with him, knowing he was okay. I wanted to hold him and reassure us both that this night didn't end in disaster.

It was strange. I already felt so close to him. We could have been a couple for the entire year and few months that I'd known him, the way I felt. I knew the moment I saw him I was going to put my hands on him and just not let go. Damn whoever would see us, and damn their reactions. I needed to know Brian was okay. I had to know he was by my side, that he still wanted me the way I wanted him.

It had become, in the last two days, the most important thing in my life, to know he was there, and he hqad feelings for me. I felt alive for the first time in a long time.

Finally, the allotted time passed. By the time the phone rang again, the marked car was ready to go, and the roadblocks were all set in place.

"Captain Banks," I answered as casually as I could.



"Are you ready for me, Captain?"

"We are. I'll get an office to drive the car up to the door. After that it's all yours. We just have one condition for you."

"What?" the man demanded.

"You leave your hostage behind. We're willing to let you go, but if you kidnap a police officer, we'll follow you."

There was a pause. "All right. Bring the car up." He hung up.

I gave Jim his phone, and directed the patrolman to drive the car up to the door.

Jim headed for his truck, where Blair was sitting rather impatiently, and got in. He was going to follow this guy until the end, just to make sure he didn't get away.

All around me, officers were getting into their patrol cars, ready to follow at a distance. SWAT still hadn't shown up, but I'd be able to call them off once he was out of the building anyway.

The car arrived at the door, and the patrolman got out, leaving the engine running, and jogged back to the police line.

I stood frozen, and the seconds ticked away. There was no movement inside the building.

I was so scared it should have been funny. There was a thickness in my throat, making it hard for me to swallow. My heart was racing at a mile a minute, and I was almost hyperventilating. I needed to know that Rafe was okay.

I loved him.

It was a strange revelation to be having, but it seemed so natural that I had to accept it. I had loved him for a little over a year now. And he loved me back. He had to be safe.

A minute passed, and then another. My palms were sweating and my mouth was bone-dry. What was taking so long? What the hell was going on in there?

Where was Brian? Shit. I couldn't stop flashing over scenarios, and problems, and possibilities.

I was standing alone, near the patrol cars, when the door finally opened. A nervous looking man, tall, slender, his eyes darting everywhere, came on. He clutched a large case to him. The explosives, probably.

Instead of getting right into the car, the man's eyes locked on the police. "Captain Banks?"

I was surprised, but I took a few steps forward. "What?"

He turned to me, and gestured for me to come forward. "Tenth. Palmer's office."

I stopped, my brow furrowing. The hell?

He got into the car without another word and gunned it. In a flash he was out of the parking lot.

Jim, Blair, and the truck went racing behind me to stay with him, and they were followed by police cars, lights and sirens silent.

I was practically alone all of the sudden. There were still officers on the scene, mostly talking to witnesses and getting statements from the hostages. I alone was looking towards the bank.

And then a moment later I was going in, forgetting everything else but the need to find Brian alive.

The bank appeared to be empty. "Brian?" I pitched my voice loudly, scanning in sinking hopes. He had to be here somewhere, but if he couldn't answer me...

"Brian?" I heard other officers coming in behind me, just to make sure it was secure in there. I ignored them, heading through to the back offices.

An open door caught my attention, and I saw that there *was* a door that led to the rest of the office building.

My heart was pounding. There were twenty stories to this building. Brian could be anywhere.

My eyes caught on one of those building directories, and the name Jackson Palmer stuck out. Tenth floor.

That's what he was saying.

I raced to the elevator, pounding the up arrow over and over again until the door opened. I pushed the button for the tenth floor.

I couldn't think, I could only act. I couldn't let myself wonder why he had taken Rafe to some random spot and left him there, or why Rafe couldn't get down by himself.

I was starting to feel the effects of being on my feet for so long. I had to lean against the wall of the elevator and rest. My chest hurt, and I knew I'd be practically trudging once I got to the tenth floor.

But I had to find him.

The doors slid open, and a dark hall greeted me.

I hadn't checked for an office number, I reflected with a silent curse.

I went from door to door as fast as I could, scanning the names on the plates.

I found Palmer relatively quickly, thank God, and jerked the door open.

The office was silent and dark. I found the light switch, but illumination just revealed emptiness.

There was no one there.

I let out another curse and turned, but a sound caught my attention. There was another door towards the back of the room. Another office?

Didn't matter. I went to it fast and jerked it open.

My legs were threatening collapse, and the sight that met my eyes didn't help.

There was Rafe. My beautiful Brian. He was bleeding, semi-conscious, and his wrists were chained to the pipes running down the old closet.

I went to my knees beside him instantly. "Brian?" There was blood all over his stomach, So much blood. I swallowed hard and tried again. "Brian? Baby, it's Simon." I don't know where the endearment came from, but like everything else about this relationship, it felt so natural.

His eyes moved to follow the sound of my voice, and then opened slowly. "Simon?"

I almost panicked at the soft, broken tone in his voice. "Hang on, baby. I'll get you some help. Just hang on." My hands went to the chains keeping him in place, and I saw the combination lock keeping them in place.

He felt the tug on his hands, and actually smiled faintly. "He found those in here. Convenient, huh?"

I almost smiled, but couldn't quite do it. I remembered my cell phone, and whipped it out. I dialed 911.

And got a recording.

I listened to the first few words in mild disbelief, then realized with the cops, and the road blocks, and this maniac driving around Cascade with a bag of C4 in his car, there were probably a lot of people tying up the line.

I hung up and got to my feet shakily. "I'll be back, baby. I have to go down and get--"

He flinched violently, his eyes slamming shut in a sudden wave of pain.

I dropped down again without a thought, my hands going to him. "Brian? It's okay, you're going to be okay. I promise, you're going to be--"

His eyes opened and met mine suddenly, and I cut off. He gave another faint smile, weaker. "No, I'm not."

I blinked away a bit of gathering moisture, and turned my imploring look into a glare. "Yes, you are. You're not going to die in here, you hear me? Not tonight. We've got a date, you son of a bitch."

His smile only grew. "I'm sorry. I was looking forward to it."

I could hear in his voice that he was ready to die. It broke through something inside me, and I was suddenly grabbing at his hands, begging. "Don't you give up, Brian. You'll be okay. I've been hurt worse than this before, you can get through this. Don't you dare give up now. You hear me?"

His eyes were shutting heavily, but he nodded slightly. "Sorry," he said again in a whisper.

"Dammit, Brian, don't you dare! We need time, we need more time. I love you." I finally said the words.

His eyes opened, and met mine. He choked out a faint laugh. "Figures. Murphy's law." He flinched, and the laughter vanished. He met my eyes again, hopeless. "I love you, too."

I could still see the resignation, and it killed me. "No! Don't tell me that! I don't want to hear it! I don't want to hear you saying goodbye, Brian. Please, just hang on. I can go down and get some help. I can--"

My phone rang.

I stopped and stared down at it for a moment. I grabbed it and kept my eyes on Rafe as I answered. "Banks."

"Simon, we've got a problem."

I frowned. "What's wrong?"

Jim sounded out of breath. "The perp gave up. Before we even reached the roadblock he must have figured out what was going on. They searched the car. That bag is full of the bank's money."

I could hardly concentrate on his voice. "Yeah?"

"Simon, the explosives are still in that building."

The powers that be made my eyes lift from Rafe's pale face when I heard that. Some mysterious force made me look up, towards the shelves of that closet. I saw the hunks of gray plastique, and I reached up to turn the blinking lights of the timer to where I could see them.

One minute and fifty seconds.

I dropped my hand slowly. It had taken me five minutes to get up here. It would take anyone else at least three. There was no way I could get Brian out of there in time.

I heard Jim's voice in my ear, and tuned in almost absently. "--to know where you are."

"I'm upstairs." My voice was hoarse, but calm. "I'll be down in a minute."

I closed the phone and set it on the floor. I moved slowly, settling myself next to Brian on the floor.

He looked up at me with glazed eyes. "What are you doing?"

My voice was remarkably calm. "There's a bomb. It's going off in a minute."

His eyes cleared remarkably fast. "Simon, get out of here."

"No." I gave him a small smile.

"Simon, please." He tried to lift himself, but paled and fell back on his back. "You can get away, please--"

"But you can't."

"So what?" He blinked, and a tear of pain or something else slid down his cheek. "Go! Please, Simon, don't do this."

I didn't move. I was thinking about how lonely my life had been for the last few years. About how I had never been so happy than I was today, waiting for him to take me to dinner. I can't remember a better feeling than those two tiny kisses in his car.

"I love you," I said again softly.

"Oh, God," he gasped out, another tear falling. "I love you, too. Don't die for me, Simon, please."

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. It was my turn to be resigned.

"Oh my God," he said faintly, his head falling back to the floor.

I looked down at him, and felt a sudden, inexplicable burst of anger. Things shouldn't have happened this way. We should have had time. "Brian..."

He looked up at me, and there was resignation in his eyes now. I knew he wouldn't argue anymore. "Simon."

I leaned down to him and kissed him for real. It was slow, and I stayed for a long time. I had time to taste him, and could feel the salt of his tears burning through me. My body lit up, and if I needed confirmation that he was the only person who could stir my soul that way, I had it now.

When I pulled back, his eyes were reflecting love, and a deep, powerful fear. "Oh, God," he said again, his voice broken. "Simon..."

"Shhh. I'm here." I could feel my eyes welling up. It was too sudden, too final. Everything would be over the same day it had begun, and it just wasn't fair.

Another wave of pain seized him, and he let out a small cry. "God, Simon," his hand reached for mine blindly, and I took it and held it, "I don't want to die. I want time. Please..."

It was the one request I couldn't grant him. I swiped at my eyes with my free hand, clearing the wet fog that blurred him in my vision. "It's okay, baby. I'm here. We're together."

I wanted it, too. I wanted time to see him. I wanted to have dinner tonight. I wanted to fall asleep with him there, wrapped around me. I wanted to wake up to look into the depths of those incredible eyes. I wanted a lifetime with him. I wanted laughter and tears and fights and late nights and everything else. Not this. God, anything but this.

He breathed in another gasp, and it cut off halfway. I knew he was dying.

"Simon." His eyes met mine in an unspoken request before they slid shut. Tears seeped out from behind closed lids, and they mingled with mine as I moved to lie beside him, gathering him in my arms and capturing his mouth in another soft, loving kiss.

I couldn't see the timer, but I didn't care.

The phone rang, and I kicked it once to silence it.

He tensed in my arms, and I knew it was coming. I held him close, bringing my mouth close to his ear as I stroked his chest and face and hair. "It's all right, baby. I'm here. I'm with you. It's okay. You can let go now, baby." My voice broke, and I cried, but I couldn't let it silence me. "I'm with you. I'll never let you go."

He turned towards me, and his eyes opened one last time to look into mine. The grief and fear drained out of them slowly, and he gazed up at me in silent, unspoken love.

And then he stiffened, and his eyes shut, and he was gone.

I tensed, and I sobbed freely. I sank down against him, and when I pressed my lips down to his cool, pale skin, I tasted my own tears.

There was never any time. Not for us. And fair or not, that was the way it was going to be. He was gone.

A few seconds later, the timer let out a shrill beep.

The next instant, the world exploded around me.

I didn't care.



The End