Disclaimer: Guys don’t belong to me, darn it. Don’t make any money. Yada, yada, yad

Thanks to Susan and Eileen for my new home.

 

This is a sort of sequel to Wrong Target. I hope everyone likes this story, it has been two years since I’ve written anything and I know I’m Really Rusty on punctuation and dialogue and ….. well you know. Don’t have a beta either so….oh well, here goes….

 

                                                                         MELISSA

 

“Daryl…” Daryl Banks turned at the sound of his name. He watched as his girlfriend crossed the street to join the other high school students that were waiting for the school bus.

He took her in appearance with appreciation, the cornflower blue linen blouse matched her eyes exactly and her long blond hair was pulled back with a simple clasp and hung down her back to her waist.

“Hey, Melissa,” Daryl returned the greeting as a smile spread across his face.  

“Oh, yeah…he’s got it bad,” Josh Wade’s voice had a teasing tone to it.

“Cut it out, Josh,” Daryl sent an annoyed look toward his best friend, causing the other boy to laugh. Daryl returned his Gaze to the girl that came to stand in front of him.

“Hi, Josh…Ginger,” Melissa Donnor greeted the two young people that stood beside Daryl.

“Melissa,” they spoke in unison, returning her greeting.

“I didn’t think you were going to make it in time,” Daryl said as he reached out to smooth a blond curl from her cheek.

He sighed and his heart beat a little faster as she smiled up at him. She was so beautiful.

He and Melissa had been ‘going out’ for three months now. He just knew she was ‘the one’.

“I was running late this morning,” she explained as she leaned toward him, lightly brushing his cheek with soft lips.

Daryl flushed at the smacking sounds that started from behind him.

“Cut it out, guys,” he snapped, turning to glare at Josh and Ginger, snorting in belayed humor at the innocent looks that adorned the two faces.

“Cute, Josh…” Melissa laughed as Daryl turned back to her. “Really cute.”

“Yeah, you are…” Daryl whispered in her ear. He returned the smile that she was bestowing on him, feeling ten feet tall at the look of devotion on her face.  

He loved to look at her. She had a classic beauty, like the girls in the magazine that his mother loved to read.

Daryl could easily look at her all day.

“OH MY GOD!!!!” Ginger Fralin’s scream split the air.

Daryl’s head snapped in her direction, startled at her sudden cry. He turned back to Melissa as he heard her sudden gasp.

He watched as a perfect rose appear on her forehead, its petals bursting open and sprayed its bright red dew over Daryl.

Melissa smiled and slowly melted into his arms, he instinctively put his arms around her, pulling her close and closing his eyes.

He didn’t know why he and Melissa were on the ground, he didn’t remember sitting down. He felt heaviness in his chest and grunted with sudden discomfort. He tried to tell Melissa to move her head; the pressure that she exerted laying over him was making it difficult to breathe.

He glanced down at the golden head that rested against his chest and saw that she was staring up at him with glassy eyes; rivulets of red trickling down her cheeks.

“Melissa…Melissa…” he had trouble saying the words as the heaviness in his chest increased.

He became aware of screaming and quickly glanced around. Ginger was sitting on the ground beside him, holding onto her right leg and screaming.

Josh lay on the other side of her, his body still, the right side of his head covered in red.

“Somebody call an ambulance!!”

Daryl’s gaze swung toward the voice, watching as Dan Donnor ran towards them.

“Mr. Donnor…” he said, surprised at the breathlessness he was experiencing. What was going on? Why was everyone screaming? “Melissa… what’s wrong with your dad?” His gaze went back to the girl in his arms.

“OH, Sweet Jesus…” Melissa’s father knelt beside the young man. “Melissa!”

Daryl looked up at him and then back down at the still girl.

“Roses, Mr. Donnor… Melissa has roses…” Daryl blinked several times, not understanding the darkness that was creeping into his vision.

“Daryl.” Dan Donnor spoke gently, reaching out to take his only daughter from the young man’s arms. “It’s okay, son…”

Donnor gulped back a sob as he lifted the girl into his arms, holding her close for a long moment. He was unaware of the hot tears that ran down his face.

“Why… you… crying…?” the words were panted.

Donnor gazed down at the young man that lay before him, noticing the growing red stain on the front of his shirt and the gasping breaths that he was taking. He knew his baby was gone, in fact he had known the moment he saw the dark green sedan that had raced from the scene. There was nothing that he could do for his child, but he could try and help the boy that had meant so much to his daughter.

The man gently repositioned his daughter, his hand gently touching her cheek, tears spilling down his face. “Oh my sweet baby…”

“Mr. Donnor?” Daryl’s hand reached out and touched the still face, his fingers tracing the red that covered her brow.

“It’s okay, Daryl…just hang on,” Donnor shook himself and turned his attention to the boy.

He tore open the shirt, noticing the hole in the young man’s chest that was sluggishly leaking bright red liquid. He quickly shed his own shirt, bunched it up and pressed it against Daryl’s chest, causing him to cry out in sudden agony.

“Melissa… roses…”

“What is it, son?” Donnor soothed the boy.

“Roses…” Daryl turned back to the still body beside him, again fingering the girl’s head. “Melissa’s got roses…”

“Yeah, Daryl…Melissa’s got roses,” he said as the sobs again broke forth.

“Melissa!”

“MELISSA!”

“”It’s okay, baby…it’s okay,” his mother’s voice filtered through the blackness. A cool hand touched his brow.

Daryl sighed at his mother’s touch. It had been a dream…just a dream.

“Daryl?” his father’s voice sounded and was filled with emotion.

Daryl opened his eyes to see his father’s concerned face leaning over him.

“Dad…what are you doing here?” his gaze cut to his mother, watching as her eyes filled with unshed tears.

“It’s okay, Daryl,” she said.

“Dad…” he returned his gaze back to is father. “Just a dream?”

“What’s just a dream, son?” Simon Banks reached over to caress his son’s cheek.

A sudden alarm sounded in the distance and Daryl’s eyes widened as the room came into focus. He was in a hospital room. Remembrance came with a rush and with it came the familiar heaviness in his chest and side. The sharp movement that he performed at the memories caused the deep pain to spread.

“No… oh no…” a sob broke forth and he closed his eyes, a tear making its way down his cheek.

“Sweetie…” his mother’s voice tinged with compassion.

“Not a dream…”

“No, son, not a dream,” his father’s voice was filled with understanding.

“Simon…I don’t think…” Joan Banks started to object, not wanting her son to be upset in any way. “He is still so sick.”

“Mom…” Daryl reached a shaking hand toward his mother.

“I’m here, baby…” Joan took his hand, her cool fingers gently caressing the back of his hand. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

“No, Mom,” Daryl shook his head. “Melissa’s dead.”

“Yes, she is, Daryl,” Simon’s voice broke in. “But it is not your fault. You were a victim too.”

“But…the man was after me…”

Simon Banks straightened and glared down at this son. “Where did you hear that?”

“Heard some of the guys talking. They thought I was sleeping,” Daryl explained.

“No Daryl…it was ME he was after…he just used you to do it,” Simon corrected. “If it is anybody’s fault…it’s mine.”

“Dad…” Daryl shifted in the bed, a painful gasp escaping at the pulling in his chest.

“Are you alright, Daryl?” Joan Banks bent over her son, her face filled with concern.

“Yeah,” Daryl gave short pants as he tried to get the pain under control. “When am I going to get rid of this thing?”

“Dr. Ragnor said, maybe today or tomorrow,” his mother replied. “We want to make sure your lung will stay inflated.”

The chest tube that resided in Daryl’s left side had been clamped the day before. Everyone was waiting to see if he would have any problems before the doctor would remove it.

It had been three days since he had had surgery to remove Andrew Carthridge’s bullet from his chest. The same bullet that had killed Melissa Donnor.

The past three days had been a blur. The last thing he had remembered before waking up in the recovery rook was Dan and Annie Donnor leaning over him, the anguish on their faces forever imprinted on his memory.

He had waked up in a confused state, a slightly familiar face bending over him.

“Mr. Banks…you with us?”

“Wha…” his mouth was dry and he tried to wet them with an equally dry tongue.

“Wake up, Daryl.”

“M’wake…where?” he turned confused eyes toward the tall man dressed in green.

“You’re in the recovery room, Daryl,” the man explained. “You’re out of surgery and you are going to be alright.”

“Surgery?”

“Yes,” the man nodded. “How are you feeling?”

“Vitals are good, doctor,” Daryl turned his head to see a woman standing on the other side of the bed. “Hello, Daryl.” She said as she noticed the young man staring at her.

“Doctor/” Daryl turned back to the man.

“Yes, I’m Doctor Every Ragnor. I performed your surgery,” the doctor explained. “How are you feeling?” he asked one more time.

“I’m…hungry…” Daryl said, his brow wrinkled in confusion. “Can I have a hamburger?”

“You want a hamburger?” amusement laced Dr. Ragnor’s voice.

“Yeah…and can I have a coke too…my mouth’s really, really dry,” Daryl smacked his dry lips.

“How about some ice for nor?” The doctor suggested as he took the small cup of ice from the nurse and spooning a small amount in the boy’s mouth.

“Good…” Daryl said as the coolness slid down his throat. “I know you, don’t I?”

“Yes, you were here when I performed surgery on Blair Sandburg. I saw you in the waiting room. I take it you are friends?”

“Blair…” Daryl’s voice began to fade and his eyelids grew heavy. “Tired…”

“Then rest, Mr. Banks…you are going to be fine,” the doctor assured him with a friendly pat to his arm.

“Daryl, you with us son?” his father’s question brought him back to the present.

“Not your fault either…” Daryl remembered the topic of their conversation.

“Daryl…” Daryl gazed up at the guilt-ridden features of his father.

“No, Dad… please don’t…” Daryl sobbed once more, turning his head to the side.

Daryl remembered what his father had one through the last few weeks. He remembered the devastation that had resided on his dad’s face after killing the fourteen-year-old Greg Welborne.

That the fourteen year old had been killed was tragic and that it was Captain Simon Banks’ bullet that had taken the life was more horrific, but Daryl knew that there had been no choice.

Greg Welborne had already killed seven people and was doing his best to kill the policemen that were attempting to capture him.

The guilt had increased when the boy’s father had attempted to extract revenge on the large Captain and Blair Sandburg had gotten in the way.

Then, Andrew Carthridge had tried another avenue of revenge…him. A son for a son.

And Melissa Donnor had gotten in the way.

…Oh God…Melissa.

Daryl sobbed again.

“I’m sorry, son,” a large hand gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. “You don’t need this right now.”

“Dad…”

“It’s alright…your mother’s gone to get the nurse. You just try to relax.”

“No…I mean… how are Mr. And Mrs. Donnor?” Daryl opened his eyes again, gazing up at Simon.

“They were here a couple of days ago…they were concerned about you.” His dad replied.

“He knew…Mr. Donnor knew,” Daryl whispered. “He knew she was gone.”

“I know, son. He saved your life,” Simon pulled a chair close and lowered his tired frame into it. “I will be forever grateful to that man.”  

“I loved her, dad. I mean…I know we were young…but…she,” the sobs grew stronger.

“Daryl, I wish I had an easy answer…I don’t know,” Simon sighed heavily. “About Greg Welborne…Blair…you, Melissa and the other kids…I don’t son, I just don’t.”

“Ginger and Josh…they okay?” though he had been told that they were okay, Daryl suddenly needed reassurance.

“They are fine. Ginger was released yesterday and Josh will be here a few more days. He has a concussion and the doctors and his parents are being cautious.

“Dad…when is Melissa’s…I mean…”

“Tomorrow, Daryl…it’s tomorrow,” Simon said, his voice soft.

“I wish…”

“I know, son, but it is not possible,” Simon reached over and took his son’s hand in both of his, giving it a small squeeze.

“Oh…Dad,” Daryl clasped his father’s hand.

“Jim and I are going, Daryl.”

“Jim?” Daryl turned questioning eyes toward his father. “What about Blair?”

“Blair is doing good. Still can’t talk very well, but he is doing very well,” Simon informed. “He’s right down the hall from here. He wants to visit you if you are up to it.”

“I’d like that, Dad,” Daryl nodded. “Blair is a good friend.”

“Yes, he is.”

“He saved your life, Dad,” Daryl said, referring to the incident that had left Blair Sandburg with a bullet in his throat. “I don’t know what I’d do if…”

“I know, Daryl. I feel the same,” Simon said.

Daryl shifted in bed, causing a soft groan to erupt. “Man…where is that nurse?”

Simon was out of his chair and at his son’s side in an instant. “Hold on, son…just hold on.” He could not stand to see his son hurting.

“Um…sorry, Dad,” he returned as the surge of pain lessened. “I don’t mean to sound like a baby. I can’t wait to get rid of this thing.”

“Yeah,” Simon nodded in sympathy. “Listen, Daryl…”

“What is it, Dad?” Daryl questioned his father’s hesitancy.  

“Your mother and I have discussed this and Dr. Ragnor agrees…” Simon began. “We think…”

“What?” Daryl asked when his father again faltered.

“We think…your mother and I… that you should talk to a physiologist.”

“Why? Do you think this will make me crazy or something?” Daryl’s tone was sharp.

“Not that kind of psychologist, Daryl…a grief counselor, someone to help you deal with Melissa’s death and your being wounded,” Simon explained, overlooking Daryl’s tone.

“Deal with it?!!”

“Yes, Daryl…deal with it.”Simon began, reaching out toward his son only to have his son jerk away from him.

Daryl’s pain filled cry came quickly at his sudden movement.

“Deal with it?” he began to sob again as his thoughts were filled with images of Melissa. “OH GOD! How can you even say something lie that…Melissa is dead!…DEAD!!!” the sobs grew stronger.

“I can say that because I know what you’re going through, son,” Simon’s voice was filled with understanding and compassion. “And it wasn’t too long ago either.”

Daryl gazed at his father for a long moment and then sighed, trying to relax his tense muscles.

“I know, Dad… it’s just so…”he murmured, closing his eyes once more. “So hard.”

“Yes, it is,” Simon agreed, patting his son’s arm in comfort. “But I can say this…it will get better, Daryl. You won’t ever forget this senseless act…but it will get better.”

“You know…” Daryl’s voice held wonder at the look on his father’s face. He saw the haunted past in his father’s eyes, saw the pain for fallen comrades that still resided there. “You know…”

“I know…”

“Dad, why…why did he do something like that…why?” Daryl questioned.

Simon clasped the small hand tighter.

“I don’t know, Daryl. There are no answers for violence.”

They were interrupted as Joan Banks entered the room followed by Daryl’s nurse.

“Good morning, Daryl,” Barbara Jenkins greeted her young patient. “I hear you are having some discomfort.”

“Yes, m’am.”

“Well, let me just check a few things,” she began to check various monitors and tubes that were attached to Daryl Banks.

“You okay, sweetie…” Joan Banks questioned as she took in her son’s pain filled features.

“I’m okay, Mom,” was the reply.

“Simon?” she gazed over at the big man standing beside their son’s bed, his hands clasped around the boys.

“Just hurting, Joan. In more ways than one,” Simon assured her.

“We’ve got something for that right here,” Barbara Jenkins interrupted. “This should help, Daryl.” She said as she injected the medication into Daryl’s IV.’

Daryl felt the warmth rushing through his veins and the intense pressure in his chest reduced to a soft throb.

“Better?” Simon smiled at the boy’s relived sigh.

“Yeah…. thanks,” Daryl nodded, his eyelids already closing.

“Just rest now, baby,” his mother’s voice followed him into the darkness. “We will be here when you wake up?”

“Dad…?” Daryl clutched his father’s hand one more time. “Melissa…roses…”

Jim Ellison and Simon Banks stood on the edge of the large crowd that consisted of family and friends with a good number of high school students mixed in.  

Simon watched as Dan and Annie Donnor accepted condolences from the mourners that had attended their daughter’s funeral.

Simon was filled with admiration as he watched. He didn’t know if he could have handled it if this had been his child’s funeral. Annie wore red-rimmed eyes, but also had a look of serenity that perplexed the large Captain.

When it was their turn to pay respects, Simon approached with trepidation. He didn’t know if he could find words to express his feelings to this couple that had worked diligently to save his son’s life as their own child rested to the side, her small body never to move again.

“Captain Banks,” Dan Donnor shook Simon’s hand with a firm grip. “How are you doing?”

“I should be asking you that question, Dan,” Simon return the handshake.

“Some days are harder than others,” the man admitted. “She was a bright and shining angel.”

“Yes, she was.”

“Simon,” Annie greeted, giving Simon a small hug. “Thank you for coming. How is Daryl doing?”

“Physically, he’s recovering, but…” Simon left the sentence hanging.

Annie nodded, tears filling her red-rimmed eyes as she glanced over at the white and silver casket resting on the stand. “It’s hard.” She whispered.

“We want to come see him if that is alright,” Dan said. “Melissa was crazy about him.”

“And he was about her.”

Dan Donnor looked at the tall man that stood at Simon Banks’ shoulder and nodded.

“Detective,” Dan greeted the silent man with the cold blue eyes.

“Sir,” the greeting was returned.

“We want to thank you, detective… for catching a baby’s killer.”

“I’m just sorry that I couldn’t catch him before he…” Jim left the rest unsaid.

“Me too. But it is comfort that he want be gunning down children anymore,” Annie said with a touch of bitterness. “I’m sorry, Simon… sometimes…” she apologized at the flush of guilt that crossed the two officer’s face.

“Annie…” Simon began.

“No, it’s alright, Simon,” the woman reassured.

“We know, Simon,” Dan interrupted. “We know what the man was trying to do. And we want you to know that there is no blame. Sometimes… things happen…and” the man’s voice faltered as he gazed at his girl’s resting place.

“How can you…?” Simon marveled at the couple. “If I had lost my… I don’t know what I’d do.”

“We survive, Captain…it’s not easy…but, we know that someday we will meet again…” Annie explained.

“Survive…I was telling Daryl the same thing,” Simon nodded. “We want him to see a grief counselor.”

“I think that is a good idea,” Dan agreed. “Annie and I have been. It helps to talk about…”

“Maybe I can help Daryl,” Annie volunteered. “I know…it would help me to see him.”

“I think he would like that Annie,” Simon said.

“Sir,” Jim Ellison’s voice filtered into Simon’s thoughts.

He looked over at his detective and noticed the man’s gaze direct his to the small crowd that was milling around waiting to talk to the grieving couple. Simon nodded and then turned back to the Donnors.

“Give me a call, Dan,” Simon shook the man’s hand and gave the woman a small hug.

“I will.”

Simon followed his friend from the gravesite, a large size knot in the middle of his stomach making it known. “My God, Jim…how?”

Jim turned back to look at the couple that were once again greeting people.

“The are good people.”

“Yeah…they are.”  

Jim walked into the hospital room to find his partner already dressed and sitting on the side of the bed.

“Chief,” he greeted.

“Jim!” Blair’s face lit up when he saw his friend. “I am like so ready to get out of here.”

“I know, buddy. Doctor’s finishing up with the paper work now,” Jim walked over and sat down beside the younger man. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Blair assured Jim. “Hey, have you heard anything about Daryl?”

“Yeah, he is doing good. He’s having a hard time dealing with the death of his friend, but he’s got lots of support. Simon said that the hospital psychologist was talking with him.”

“It never should have happened, Jim,” the sorrow in the quiet voice touched Jim’s heart and he carefully folded his arms around his Guide.

“No Blair, it shouldn’t have. Violence is never the answer, especially when kids are involved.”

“But what Carthridge did…I mean, Greg was his son,” Blair looked up at Jim.

“No, Chief. If Carthridge had really cared for his son, he would have stepped forward when the boy’s parents killed. The courts notified him of his ex-wife’s death. He just didn’t want to be bothered.”

“But why target Simon?”

“I don’t know, Blair. Maybe he couldn’t handle his own guilt and took it out on Simon.”

“What will happen to him?”

“The DA is going for murder one and four counts of attempted murder. He should be going away for a long time.”

“Man…” Blair shook his head.

“Hey, what do you say we go track the good doctor down and steal your walking papers?” Jim said as he stood and pulled his friend to his feet.

“I’m down with that. Do you know where he is?”

“I can find him. I’m a Sentinel, you know?”

A warm smile lit the younger man’s face, causing bright blue eyes to shine, “Yeah, I know.”

“Well, lets go then.” Jim grabbed Blair’s bag and guided the younger man towards the door.

“Hey, Jim. I want to stop by and see Daryl for a minute, okay?”

“I thought ten days in a hospital was enough for you?”

“You know it, but…” Blair shrugged.

“Sure. Go ahead and I’ll finish the paperwork,” Jim suggested, noticing Dr. Ragnor at the nurses desk. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Thanks, man.” Blair patted Jim on the shoulder and strolled down the hall to Daryl Banks room.

A fond smile graced Jim Ellison’s face as he watched his observer/partner walk away. The usual bounce that accompanied the young man had was missing and Jim couldn’t wait for its reappearance. It had been a long road and it was not over yet.

This case had touched everyone, confusion and pain floated on the very atmosphere around them. And no one had been more affected than Daryl Banks. Jim gave a shuddering sigh. Children were not supposed to have to deal with this. It would be soon enough for them to have to deal with the concepts of an imperfect world, but now violence was making its way into their schools and even their home.

The department shrink had told him and Simon that they need closure. They understood the concept and dealed with it often. But how did one impart the concept of closure to a child. All they understood was the pain of the moment.

Jim straightened his shoulders and turned back to the doctor. He was the Sentinel and it was his job to protect the tribe and Daryl was an important part of his tribe. He made a silent vow to help the young man reach his closure.

Jim Ellison pulled over to the side of the small paved lane that was part of the cemetery. It had been two months since he had been here, since the tragedy that they were still dealing with. He looked over at the tranquil landscape that was designed to soothe the usually emotionally charged atmosphere that was common in its city.

He glanced over at his partner and then looked into his rearview mirror at the two occupants in the backseat of Simon Banks’ large sedan.

Simon had his arm around his son’s shoulder, holding him close and whispering into his ear.

“Daryl?” Blair’s questioning voice filtered into the quiet car. “You ready?”

“The Donnors are here,” Jim informed as his attention was caught by the car that was pulling up behind them.

“I don’t know if I can…” Daryl’s voice broke and he took shuddering sobs as he leaned into his father’s arms.

“Yes, you can, Daryl…you need to,” Blair disagreed, causing Simon to send an annoyed glare to the young man in the front of him.

“Blair, I don’t want you to push,” he growled.

“Simon… there is something I want Daryl to see,” Blair said.

Daryl turn in his seat, watching as Dan and Annie Donnor approached the car. Sighing he reached out to open the door and stepped out to greet the couple.

“Daryl,” Annie clasped the younger man to her, tearing coursing down her face.

Dan patted the younger man on the back and nodded to the other men that were present.

“It’s good to see you again, Simon.”

“You too, Dan,” Simon returned. “You remember Jim and Blair, don’t you?”

“Of course, how are you feeling, Mr. Sandburg?”

“I’m good.” Was the soft answer.

“Mr. Donnor…” tears decorated Daryl’s face as he turned his friends father. “I’m sorry that I didn’t return all your calls…I just…”

“Daryl…it’s okay, son.” Dan patted the boy again. “I know it’s hard…”

“You ready to go, Daryl,” Blair interrupted.

“I don’t know,” Daryl looked hesitantly at the adults that surrounded him. “I don’t think…”

“I want you to see something, Daryl,” Blair moved to stand next to his friend.

“Blair…” Simon warned.

“Please, Simon,” Blair turned large eyes towards his captain.

“Let’s do this together, shall we?” Annie put her through Daryl’s and slowly moved forward, allowing the boy to take his time.

Blair moved up to stand beside Simon, placing a calming hand on the big man’s arm.

“Trust me Simon, okay? He needs closure,” the young man whispered, before moving to follow the others.

Simon glanced back at his best detective to see a gentle smile aimed at the longhaired observer.

“I hate it when he does that!” Simon’s exasperated whisper caused the smile to grow.

“I know, Sir.”

They walked behind the others toward the grave of Melissa Donnor.

Daryl had his head buried in the shoulder of Mrs. Donnor, suddenly unable to look up. He knew if he did, he would lose whatever sanity he had left. He was aware of them stopping but still couldn’t open his eyes.

He did however when he heard and felt Annie Donnor’s surprised gasp and Dan Donnor’s sudden stop.

“OH MY!!!” Dan croaked.

Daryl opened his eyes and gazed up at the man, then turned his eyes toward the ground.

A small white tombstone with Melissa’s birth and death rested in the middle of a bed of red rose petals. The grave was covered with them

“How…?” he croaked out, turning incredulous eyes toward his father.

Simon gave a confused shrug before looking toward Blair Sandburg.

Blair moved to stand beside the boy. “Roses, Daryl.” He whispered.

Daryl sobbed then turned toward Dan.

“Roses, Mr. Donnor…Melissa’s got roses,” he said as he fell into the man’s arms.

“Yes, Daryl…Melissa’s got roses,” the man replied as his strong arms wrapped around the child and held him close, relieved to her the heart-rending sobs that came forth.  

Blair Sandburg walked up to Simon and laid a comforting hand on the tense man’s arm.

“It will be alright, now Simon,” he assured. “He needed Closure.”

“Chief,” the Sentinel’s voice was filled with love for his Guide.

“Melissa’s got roses, Jim.”

 

                         THE END