Author's Notes: I know, I know, I have no business starting a new story when I have two that are unfinished. However, this idea came to my mind and it won't leave me alone to work on the others until I get at least this chapter down on paper. This - I don't think, at least - will be a long drawn out story. Probably three chapters. This story is a Jules/Spike friendship only, not a romance.

Timeline: This chapter takes place after "One Wrong Move" and before "Never Let You Down." There are spoilers within.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and the networks who air the episodes. Since the show has ended, our only way of getting new Flashpoint is through fan fiction. This story is my attempt to help fill the void, and the only profit I make is the warm fuzzy feeling reviews give me. Anything that does not come directly from the show is my own creation and should not be used without my permission.

Numbing the Pain

Jules Callaghan stepped into the dimly lit bar, her eyes scanning the interior for the person she was looking for. She frowned. The Goose, as usual, was crowded with people either content on blowing off steam or celebrating the end of a long day or maybe even long week. Laughter spilled over from one table to the next as the patrons unwound and relaxed. She couldn't count the number of times she'd been part of the happy atmosphere in the past as Team One did the same after a long shift.

Tonight, however, she didn't really want to be here. The laughter grated on her nerves and just made her want to scream at the people that they had no right to be happy. She wanted to hit them upside the head and remind them that today of all days, they should be as miserable and upset as she was, as the rest of Team One was. Didn't they know a hero had fallen and had just been laid to rest earlier that day? Didn't he deserve an evening of solemnity in his honor?

If she'd had her way, she wouldn't have stepped foot into The Goose tonight. She'd be at home, throwing herself into some sort of renovation project. Anything that she could put her mind to that wouldn't allow her to think about or remember the funeral she'd attended just a few hours earlier. She'd turn on her stereo loud enough that it wouldn't have the neighbor's complain but would drown out the memory of the haunting sound of bagpipes playing Amazing Grace as she, her teammates, and every member of the Metropolitan Police service in full dress uniforms processed through the streets of Toronto as they made their way to a final resting spot. If she had her way, she'd work so late into the night that when she finally stopped, she'd be so tired that she'd have no choice but to fall into a sound and dreamless sleep.

But a phone call had changed those plans. This might not be where she wanted to be on this evening but it was where she was needed. She didn't even think about suggesting that someone else be called to handle the situation. She might be hurting but there was someone who was hurting worse and she wasn't going to turn her back on a friend in need.

She frowned as her visual search turned up empty. She knew he was there but he was hidden well. She approached the bar. Jerry, one of the regular bartenders that had served Team One many drinks over the years, noticed her and stepped over to her. His expression was grim. "Callaghan, thanks for coming. I didn't know who else to call that wouldn't get him in trouble."

Jules nodded. "I'm glad you called me. How long has he been here?"

"I just came on about forty-five minutes ago so I didn't see when he arrived. However, based on his tab and his level of inebriation, I'd say several hours. I would have just cut him off and called him a cab but I was worried he'd just go to another bar instead of home."

"Where is he?"

Jerry pointed to a table in the very back, almost completely hidden away from the rest of the crowd. Jules nodded again. "Thanks. Don't cut him off but whatever he's been drinking switch it to Crown and Coke and make each successive drink more Coke than Crown. Root beer for me; one of us wasted tonight is enough, I think."

Jerry promised and Jules left the bar and headed toward her friend. He didn't notice her approach so it gave her time to access the situation. Just as if this were some sort of hot call, she observed her subject carefully to get an accurate read on his current mental state.

She'd seen Spike drunk numerous times. Usually, he was a fun drunk. He'd get louder and funnier to the point he could barely talk. His exuberance was usually contagious and had the rest of the team laughing at his actions as much as to what he was saying. Tonight was different. There was no trace of humor in his features. If anything, the grief they'd all noticed him sinking into seemed magnified at least a hundred times. He wasn't crying but he looked like it wouldn't take much to send him into a sobbing mess. Her heart broke at the sight.

Why had he come here? After the funeral service and the subsequent gathering at the Young's house, every member of the team, herself included, had checked on Spike to make sure he wasn't going to spend the rest of the day alone. He'd assured them that he was going home because there were things his mom and dad needed him to do around the house. Sarge had even given him a ride home so she knew he'd at least made it that far. But if Jerry's estimation of time was correct, Spike must have almost immediately come to the Goose after Sarge dropped him off.

They'd all taken Lew's death hard; how could they not? They weren't just a team but a family and they'd just lost a valuable member of that family. Every cop knew there was a danger of not making it home after a shift and that risk only compounded when you became a part of the Strategic Response Unit. Still, never in their worst nightmares, had any of them expected to lose someone to a land mine. To make it worse, it had happened right in front of them and there hadn't been a damn thing any of them could do to stop it. So of course, it had been painful for all of them, but for Spike it was even worse. On the job and off, they were best friends, almost inseparable. And without having to be told, Jules knew Spike blamed himself for Lew's death. She should have made a better effort to make sure Spike hadn't ended up here in the first place. However, she couldn't change what had been done; she'd just have to work on making things better now.

"Hey Spike. Mind if I join you?" Without waiting for permission, Jules slipped into the booth next to him. The only acknowledgement she got from her friend was a brief glance her way before he drained the remainder of his glass. Straight whiskey from the looks of it.

A waitress appeared at their table with Jules's root beer and Spike's new drink. Immediately he picked it up and took a long swallow. If he noticed the difference in the order, he didn't say anything. He set the glass back down, still not looking at her. "How did you find me?"

She didn't want to out Jerry as the person who'd called; having someone who looked out for them was a good thing and she didn't want to burn that bridge. So, instead, she shrugged. "It wasn't hard. Drinking alone doesn't really sound like you, Spike. Want to talk about it?"

Spike just shook his head. "Nothing to talk about. We put Lew in the ground today. My best friend is gone and there's nothing I can do to change that. Thought maybe if I got shitfaced drunk enough, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much."

Jules reached out to squeeze his arm. "How's that working for you?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Haven't gotten there yet. If you came here to drag me out and take me home, don't bother. I'm not going until either the pain's gone or I pass out, whichever happens first."

She could tell he was drunk already; she had a feeling if he started sweating, it would be alcohol that popped out of his skin rather than water. She could hear the slur in his words and could see the tell-tale redness in his eyes. However, he still seemed lucid enough to be aware of his surroundings. Trying to get him to leave would just make things worse, not better. She would have to wait him out. "Not going to make you leave, but I'm not going to leave you alone either. Whether you drink away the pain or pass out, you're going to need someone to drive for you afterward. That's what I'm here for, but I'm also here if you want to talk."

For a moment Spike didn't say anything as he busied himself with his drink again. Finally he looked at her, unshed tears threatening to spill over at any moment. He shook his head. "It's not fair. It shouldn't have happened. Lew shouldn't be gone."

"I know." Two simple words but they were heart-felt. "There's not a one of us that doesn't wish there was some way we could turn the hands back and change what happened."

Spike raked his hand through his hair and then wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. His attempt to get rid of the evidence of his emotional upheaval only resulted in making the tears flow harder. "I could have stopped it. I should have stopped it. The weight transfer could have worked. He should have given me the chance to try it."

Every time the call had been discussed since Lew's death, whether it was their own debriefing, in the group grief sessions with Dr. Luria, and probably even his own private meetings with the psychologist, Spike always came back to the weight transfer. He remained convinced that his idea to use water to transfer the weight on the land mine to something other than Lew would have worked to save his life. Nothing any of them said worked to change his mind.

"Maybe," Jules agreed with him but then added, "but, it also could have meant we buried two friends today instead of one. Lew didn't want to take that chance. He couldn't let you risk your life like that."

"He should have trusted me. I'm the demolitions expert, I know what I'm doing. I could have saved him. I would have saved him. He didn't have to die. He shouldn't have died. I went to the station yesterday. I replicated the call in one of the training rooms. Used one of the rescue dummies and tried the weight transfer. It worked. I was right."

Jules didn't know what to say at first. The discussion had been made outside of Spike's hearing about whether it would be a good idea to let Spike do the experiment just to see. They'd finally decided it wouldn't do any good. If he was successful, it would just reinforce his belief he could have changed things and add to his guilt. If it failed, then it still wouldn't take away his pain. She'd had no idea that Spike had taken it on his own to try the experiment. Hearing Spike say it worked in the lab almost knocked the wind out her and she reached for her root beer to settle her nerves. She almost wished she had something stronger. She'd been one of the most vocal ones about not wanting Spike to try it at the scene. It had been bad enough she was facing losing one friend; she couldn't take the thought of losing two in one fell swoop. Had she given up too soon? She couldn't think that way. She frowned.

"So you replicated the scene perfectly? You accounted for the fact that Lew had been standing on that mine for a long time and was tired and nervous? You were able to replicate your own fear and concern perfectly? Yeah, in a lab setting, with no one around and no added pressure, it worked. Doesn't mean it would have worked in the field that day." She knew he wasn't in any condition to really listen to logic but she had to try.

Spike finished off his drink and signaled the waitress for another one. He cut his eyes over to Jules, expecting her to protest but she didn't say anything about him ordering a new drink. While he waited for the drink to arrive, he leaned back against the booth, his head resting on the top of the cushion so that he was looking up at the ceiling. "Lew didn't trust me. Why didn't he trust me?"

"Lew didn't step off that mine because he didn't trust you, Spike. If anything, he didn't trust the situation. He couldn't or wouldn't take the chance of endangering anyone else but especially not you. How could he or you or any of us know if Alston had tampered with the device any other way than gluing the pin hole shut? You're right, it wasn't fair that Lew died but it wasn't your fault that he did."

"It shouldn't have happened." Spike continued. The waitress came with a new drink for Spike and a refill for Jules. Jules caught her eye and raised a questioning eyebrow, as if asking for sure that Jerry had followed through with what she'd told him to do. The waitress gave her a sly wink to let her know it was as ordered and then left. "His death was meaningless."

Jules narrowed her eyes. She could sit there and listen to Spike all night long if she had to in order to let him vent but she couldn't let him go there. "Don't, Spike, don't do that. Yeah, we all wish Lew was still alive, all of us. Losing him was like losing a vital part of ourselves. However, Lew died doing what he thought was best in order to save you and us. He made a sacrifice and he died a hero. Don't lessen that by saying it was meaningless. That's not fair either."

Spike ran his finger over the rim of his glass. Several times it looked like he was about to say something but each time he stopped himself before he uttered a syllable. Finally he sighed. "Lew was more than just my best friend, you know. He was more like a brother. I could tell him anything."

Again she reached out to touch his arm. "I know. I could see that from the very beginning. Lew recognized something about you from the moment he picked you out of the recruitment trails."

Spike shook his head. "What do you mean?"

Jules knew talking about pleasanter times was much better than Spike dwelling on what could have been. She smiled at the memory. "The first day of the recruitment trials, Lew, Wordy, and I were standing to the side while Sarge and Ed were addressing all of you. You know, we were picking out the ones we thought would be the first cuts, the ones that looked promising and such. Lew points at you and says 'That's him. That's who's going to get the spot.' Each time we made cuts and you got a little closer, he'd stick by what he'd said. As the crowd of applicants got fewer and fewer, we started to realize he was right and there was no question when we made our decision, but Lew knew from the very beginning. Give the guy a gold star for being so smart."

Spike's eyes were wide as he looked at her. Jules couldn't help but see him as he must have looked as a small boy growing up seeing something for the first time. He shook his head. "Lew never told me that."

Jules shrugged. "He probably didn't want to give you a swelled head. That or he just thought you'd be the perfect person to pick on as the new rookie. You joining the team meant he wasn't the rookie anymore. I think he was tired of being the one we all gave a hard time."

In spite of himself, Spike smiled slightly thinking of the different pranks that had been played on him when he first started. Though he was sure some of them had been instigated by Lew and was even more sure that Lew had at least been involved with all of them, his friend had always been the one to check on him afterward to make sure there were no hard feelings. "He didn't have as long to be the rookie as I did. I guess now Sam's going to lose his rookie status as well."

Once again his mood darkened as he finished his drink. "Lew shouldn't have died. We shouldn't have an empty spot on the team that we have to fill. Why couldn't the team just stay the way it was? I don't see why we have to have the recruitment trails so soon anyway."

Jules didn't want to admit she wasn't looking forward to the trials anymore than Spike was. It was different picking someone when the vacancy had been created for a positive reason; a retirement, a transfer, or a promotion. This was the first time as far as she was aware of that the death of a team member had necessitated the need for recruitment. "It wouldn't be any easier if we put it off a few weeks or a few months. It sucks but it's necessary. Just like you had to do it when I was sidelined after getting shot."

Spike ordered another drink; Jules was pretty sure it should be mostly if not all just Coke from here on out but Spike didn't seem to notice the difference. "That was different. Even as we were picking Donna we knew it was just temporary. She was a sub for you until you came back and she found a place somewhere else."

Jules drained the rest of her root beer before transferring her straw to the one the waitress brought her when she brought Spike's latest drink. Now probably wasn't the time to mention that she'd had her own resentments toward the trials that had temporarily placed Donna on the team. Spike didn't need to know how much it had hurt her knowing they'd chosen someone to replace her even if it was only supposed to be temporary, especially since she'd gotten the real feeling as she prepared to come back that there'd been talk between at least Sarge and Ed as to whether the spot should go back to Jules or remain with Donna. It was enough that Sam had been privy to those fears and bad enough given the way they'd been forced to leave things in order for her to come back. She twirled her straw around in her glass.

"Spike, I don't care who gets chosen during the replacement trials. No one will ever replace Lew. We'll pick someone to fill a spot on the team but whoever it is will have to find his or her own place- both in the team dynamic and in our hearts. Lew might not physically be there any more but he's always going to be Team One."

It wasn't exactly an original thought on her part. Sam was the one who'd said something similar to her the night the team had settled on Donna during those recruitment trials. He'd shown up at her hospital room at the end of shift and had stayed the night. He'd recognized almost immediately the direction her thoughts had taken as he'd told her about the results of the trials and had done everything he could to make her feel better. She wondered sometimes, more so the last week as her grief over the loss of Lew had led her to feel Sam's absence in her private life - and her bed - even more than when she'd first insisted that the team had to come before their relationship, whether she'd made the right choice. She loved her job and couldn't imagine being on any other team or doing any other job.

It had been a hard choice choosing between her job and Sam. Ultimately, it had come down to knowing that if she put Sam first, she'd end up resenting him in the end when she really thought about what she'd given up. It would be a resentment they wouldn't be able to get passed no matter what they tried and it probably wouldn't have worked out for them anyway. If that had happened, then where would she be? Stuck on a Team that wasn't her family or in a completely different job AND without Sam in her life. She couldn't do that, not to herself and not to him. Besides, it wasn't like he had expressed a willingness to give up his spot either. Losing him had hurt but she'd known it was the only choice she could have made. However, it didn't stop her from really missing him, especially now when it would be comforting to have someone she could turn to when she wanted to break down, someone who wouldn't judge her or think she was weak, someone who understood and shared her pain just as much.

"How do I do it, though Jules?" His words were slurring even more now than when she'd first arrived. The drinks he'd consumed during the afternoon and evening was working against him even though she knew Jerry had been weaning him off the alcohol after she'd arrived. She wasn't sure how he was even still conscious. "How do I sit through those trials, how do I chose the person who will fill a spot that can't be filled?"

"The same way the rest of us will, Spike. We'll pick the person who can do the best job." Jules assured him.

Spike nodded but didn't seem convinced. He finished off his drink and Jules wasn't surprised when he ordered another. He seemed intent on following through with his promise to not quit until he either passed our or got passed the pain. Since his drinks were now strictly non-alcoholic, she wasn't sure either was going to happen. Before the waitress could return with the drinks, Spike looked at her. "You know what would happen if Lew were here right now?"

Lew would have cut him off a couple hours ago probably, was Jules's first thought. Spike seemed so serious, so earnest that Jules just shook her head. "I don't know, Spike; what would Lew do?"

"If he were here, he'd help me to the bathroom. I really gotta take a leak and I don't think I can walk to the bathroom. That's what best friends do; they hold you up when you can't do it yourself. Lew was the best at that."

The last part of his statement was so profound and accurate it seemed almost out of place given what he'd said at first. Jules resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the same time she wanted to cry. She wasn't surprised; she'd only consumed three root beers and she needed the restroom; how Spike had lasted this long, she'd never know. "I'm not Lew, Spike, but I am here for you. You think if I help you to the door, you can handle the rest on your own?"

Spike looked her up and down. "You really think you can help get me there? I think my legs have disconnected from my body. I can't feel them anymore."

Jules let out a snort. "Please, if I can pull Sarge's butt across the station, I think I can manage your puny self to the bathroom door."

Spike nodded. "You're a good friend, Jules. You aren't Lew but you are a good friend."

For now, she'd take that as a compliment. Maybe, she'd even rag him about it later when he was sober and she was looking for a way to embarrass him. Even as she was thinking it, she knew she wouldn't. Anything that had been said tonight in this bar would remain right here. Sometimes, they all needed a moment to let down their guard and just take all the filters off their mouths and thoughts and just say whatever. It wasn't something that ever needed to be brought up ever again.

She slipped his arm around her neck and helped him to stand. Immediately his knees buckled beneath him but she kept him from falling. She started toward the bathrooms, carrying most of his weight. If she wasn't as fit as she was for the job, she never would have been able to get him from the table to the restrooms. As it was, she was glad that he'd chosen a table that was so close to their destination because he was almost completely dead weight. She wasn't sure if he was going to make it once she left him at the door, but there was no way she was going into the men's room with him.

Fortunately, her dilemma was solved just as she reached the door. Suddenly she found herself relieved of Spike's weight. She glanced to the side and saw that Ralph, a broad muscular guy that acted as security slash bouncer for The Goose had shouldered Spike's weight for her. She flashed the man the whole team had gotten to know well over the years a grateful smile. His answering grin was cheeky as he spoke to Spike. "Come on Scarlatti, I know Callaghan's just one of the guys but no sense turning her stomach by making her see what the inside of the men's room really looks like."

Knowing Spike was in capable hands, Jules detoured over to the ladies' restroom and took care of her own business. When she stepped back out into the hallway, there was no sign of Ralph and Spike so she went back to the table. Jerry had stepped away from the bar and walked over to join her. "Spike okay?"

She nodded. She was pretty sure he had sent Ralph to help her with Spike when he'd seen them heading for the bathrooms. "I think so. It's been a tough day and he'll have a hell of hangover tomorrow but he'll be fine. We'll all be fine."

Jerry nodded as well. He'd seen the news about Lew and figured the death of their teammate had played into what had happened that night. That was one of the reasons he'd called Jules in the first place. "Anything else you need?"

She hoped that once Ralph retuned Spike to the table, she could convince her friend and teammate to call it a night. "I think we should probably close out his tab. Given how much he had to drink, I'm almost afraid to see his bill. That might hurt him tomorrow more than the hangover."

Jerry laughed. "Yeah, it could have been bad. However, I talked it over with my boss and he agreed to let me comp most of it. Your team does so much for the city and you are all good patrons. There's never enough ways we can show all of you our appreciation for everything you all sacrifice to keep the city safe. Hearing what happened to Constable Young just reminds us of that all too well. So, we're only charging him for the actual cost of the alcohol so it's not so bad." He'd figured they would probably be ready for the bill so he'd already gotten it ready. He handed it to Jules. She glanced at the total and realized that it wasn't much more than what they all spent on a regular night out, still not great considering it was a one man drinking spree instead of the whole team but not enough to put a huge dent into a paycheck. She fished into her purse and handed over her credit card. It would be easier for her to settle the tab than try to retrieve Spike's credit card when he came back.

"Thanks, Jerry. Not just for helping him with the bill but just for taking care of him tonight. It means a lot."

Jerry blushed slightly at her words. "It's nothing compared to what he does to keep the city safe. Besides, I've got to take care of my favorite patrons, right? I'll go run this and get it right back to you."

Jerry returned a few minutes later with both her card and her receipt. She frowned as she put the piece of plastic back in her purse. Why hadn't Ralph and Spike returned? After all, how long could it take? She made her way back toward the restrooms just as the door opened and Ralph stepped out. He was no longer merely supporting Spike but practically carrying her friend instead.

"He's okay. I actually think he just fell asleep instead of passed out. Want me to help you get him to your car?" Ralph explained when he saw her worried expression.

Jules nodded and led the way out of the bar. She'd managed to get a parking place somewhat close to the entrance. Once at the Jeep, she unlocked the passenger side and then Ralph helped get Spike settled in the seat. Straightening up, Ralph looked at her. "You going to have help getting him out once you get him home?"

"I can handle it." Jules promised. She gave him a quick hug. "Thanks for everything. It's nice to have someone watching our backs from time to time."

Ralph nodded. "Any time. You probably want to make sure he's got quick access to a bottle of Tylenol in the morning. He's going to have a hell of hangover."

"Yeah." Jules agreed. However, she was pretty sure the pain in his head wouldn't be any greater than the one in his heart. No amount of pain reliever would be able to take care of that. She went around to the driver's side of the Jeep and got in. She checked Spike's seat belt before fastening her own. She sat there for a moment staring out the windshield.

Now the question came where she should take him. It wouldn't be a problem taking him to her house and letting him sleep it off there. She didn't think she wanted to drag his mostly unconscious self up the stairs to the spare bedroom but she knew from experience that her couch made a pretty comfy temporary bed. He'd be fine there. On the other hand, she didn't want his parents to worry about him if he were out all night.

True, Spike was a grown man capable of coming and going as he pleased. However, she could remember when her oldest brother lived at home for a year after he'd graduated from college. Her father had told him in no uncertain terms that even though he was an adult, he had to be considerate of the people he lived with. If he was going to stay out all night, he had to let them know, not because they wanted to keep tabs on him but because they shouldn't have to worry that something had happened to him. That lesson had stuck with her every since and she didn't want the Scarlatti's worrying about Spike.

"Where am I?" Spike slurred his words even more than he had before going to the rest room. He didn't move his head from the back of the seat.

"My jeep. You said you weren't leaving until the pain was gone or you passed out. Well, you pretty much passed out while you were in the bathroom so I'm holding you to your word." She wasn't sure if he'd argue with her on that point or not.

"'kay. Where're we going?" His eyes were half closed.

Jules glanced over at him. "Where do you want to go? Just so you know, I reserve the right to and will veto any suggestion that I don't think is good for you. That includes but is not limited to any place that serves alcohol."

"Noted." Spike murmured. "Can you take me back to a week ago when Lew and I were on vacation? Back to when everything was okay?"

"I would if I could, Spike; you gotta know that." Jules promised him.

"Take me home then. Don't want Ma to worry; she worries too much as it is." Once again, Jules couldn't help but picture him as a little boy, worried about upsetting his mother. It didn't sound to her though that it was really where he wanted to go. She glanced back over at him.

"If you'd rather go somewhere else for the night, I can do that. I'll even use your cell to call your mom and let her know you are okay."

He still had that wide-eyed little boy look about him. "You'd do that for me?"

Jules didn't hesitate. "Yeah, Spike, of course I will. You want to crash on my couch tonight?"

Spike was quiet at first but then he nodded. "Thanks. Just no lying to my ma. Haven't been 'kay since Lew stepped on the damn mine."

Jules couldn't argue with him. She didn't think anyone on the team had been truly okay since Lew died. It would probably be a long time before they were. She pulled out into traffic and headed toward her house. Spike went quiet again and Jules figured he'd fallen asleep again.

"Jules…"

And then again, maybe not. She glanced back at him before returning her focus to the road. "Yeah, Spike?"

"Do I have to like him?"

She knew he was once more talking about whomever they chose in the recruitment trials. She didn't take offense at the masculine pronoun. Odds were more in favor of them picking a male team member than a female. "Spike, we're picking someone to fill Lew's spot on the team, not as your best friend. What kind of friendship you have with him or her is for you to decide. If I had to bet though, I'd say the chances are good you'll end up liking whomever we choose. You're too nice a guy not too."

"'kay."

Nothing else was said until Jules pulled into her driveway. She turned off the engine and looked over at Spike. For the moment he looked like he was sleeping peacefully so she hoped that the alcohol was at least giving him a momentary reprieve from the pain and guilt. Even though it meant she was pretty much going to have to carry him to the front door. She knew she could call one of her other teammates to come over and give her a hand but that would mean letting whoever she called see Spike at his most vulnerable. It wasn't that she thought Sam, Wordy, Ed, or even Greg would judge him or think less of him. Each man would understand just as much as she did the extreme pain Spike was feeling and his need to do something to try to alleviate that pain. That wasn't why she was loathe to call anyone. Nobody, understanding or not, needed to see Spike like this. This kind of emotional release was best done in private or with as few witnesses as necessary.

She came around the vehicle and opened the passenger door. It took a little careful maneuvering to ease him out of the car and on to his feet. Just like at The Goose, his knees immediately buckled and she had to quickly get her arms around him to keep him from falling. "Come on, Spike, wake up long enough to help me get you inside and then you can sleep as long as you like."

"Jules? Where did you come from?" He was at least carrying some of his own weight now. "Where am I?"

She wasn't sure if it was that he didn't really remember or if he was just still mostly out of it. She wasn't sure which was better. "You're at my place. You had a little too much to drink so I brought you home."

"That's why the ground is spinning? I thought maybe we were having a freak earthquake or som'thin'. Thanks, Jules. You're a good friend. Outside Lew, you're my bestest friend."

"Thanks Spike. Let's get you inside before you fall flat on your face." It was slow going but she eventually had him inside the house. She helped him over to the couch and let him practically drop onto the cushions. Without having to be told, he immediately turned on his side, lying down fully on the couch.

Jules unclipped his cell phone from his belt and eased his shoes off but that was as far as she went. Going to the linen closet, she grabbed a blanket and returned to the couch. She covered him up and was about to move away when he reached up and grabbed her wrist.

"Jules, why Lew? It's not fair. I can't do this job without him. I don't know how."

"Yeah, you do, Spike. You'll be fine. We'll all make sure of it. I promise."

And then he succumbed completely to an alcohol induced sleep. Jules watched him for a moment before picking up his cell phone. She called his mother and explained the situation and assured the older woman that Spike would be fine. Once that was completed, she returned the cell phone to the coffee table. Then she went to the kitchen and took the bottle of ibuprofen from her medicine cabinet and grabbed an unopened bottle of water from the fridge. Returning to the living room, she set both on the coffee table in easy reach in case Spike woke up before she did.

Just as she was about to turn out the lights and head upstairs herself, she thought of something else. She found a small garbage can and doubled lined it with garbage bags and set it near the end of the couch where Spike's head was resting. If he woke up nauseated, she'd much rather have him throw up in the protected garbage can than on her carpet. Satisfied that she'd done all she could do for the moment, she turned out the lights and went upstairs.

She'd planned to throw herself into a renovation project to take her mind off her grief but there was no way she could do anything now. She couldn't risk waking Spike up. Besides, helping Spike had in some ways taken her mind off her own pain - at least while he'd been conscious. Now that she was essentially alone despite the fact that Spike was just downstairs, her pain started to return. Perhaps it was even worse because she'd been reminded just how much Lew's death had devastated not only her own life but to a much larger extent someone she cared about.

Seeing no viable option to distract herself from the grief that she'd safely pushed to the side all day, Jules escaped to the sanctuary of her bedroom. During the funeral earlier, there hadn't been a dry eye as person after person honored Lew's life through their words and memories. Tears had been shed but composure had been kept; a composure she almost felt fake in maintaining. Strangers very rarely got to see her cry at all but not even family - her actual blood relatives or her teammates - were privy to the times when she totally gave in to the feelings threatening to consume her. It wasn't that she didn't trust them enough to let them see it but that she didn't trust herself to be that vulnerable even with people she loved.

She stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Shedding her clothes, she stepped into the shower and turned it on. Adjusting the temperature so that the water was hot without being scalding, Jules allowed the spray to wash over her. Feeling safe to do so, she allowed the tears to form and slip down her face mixing with the water from the shower. It didn't take long for the tears to become full sobs to the point her whole body was shaking. She sank to the floor of the shower and fully gave into her grief.

Spike was right; it wasn't fair that Lew was gone. It was even less fair that so soon after burying their friend and co-worker, they would have to sit through the trials where hundreds of officers eager for their chance to wear the cool pants would vie for that one spot.

She just had to trust that she'd been right as well when she'd assured Spike that no, it wasn't fair but that everything would eventually be alright. It would have to be. She didn't think the team as a whole could survive it wasn't. And losing the team as she loved it would be something she definitely couldn't survive.