Some Things Fall Away (Blue Bloods Fanfiction)

↞ Chapter Eight ↠

Season Six, Episode Two

I couldn't be sure when I fell asleep last night.

Jameson stuck beside me the entire time, tucking me into bed and kissing my forehead every time I moved. I felt like I could breathe when I was with him. This morning, I sat on top of the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in between my hands that had already gone cold. I had meant to drink it, but my mind was much to heavy to actually remember to. Jameson busied himself around me, letting his hands brush across my knees whenever he passed by me.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you." I felt the need to constantly apologize, and Jameson faltered in what he was doing, setting the spatula down and turning to me.

I wasn't much taller sitting on the counter top, and if anything I felt dreadfully small, my mind told me I was. He set each of his hands on either side of me, looking up with a smile that told me he loved me.

"You didn't know, and you weren't ready babe." Jameson lifted a hand to my cheek, and I leaned into it.

There was a certain amount of light in his voice, and I found comfort in his words.

The mood in the air shifted, and despite the fact that I'd have to go and speak to a sketch artist today, and share the details that I could remember, I felt happy. I hummed words to a song that I barely knew, and Jameson danced about the kitchen.

I fell in love with him even more in this moment, in the way that he danced and hummed the sections that he knew. His voice so wonderful to hear, I was lucky to have him.

And while the face of the villain in my mind flashed often, the specifics much to blurry and the name escaping my tongue. I wanted more than anything to provide a breakthrough for the case, I didn't want anyone else to be hurt by this killer.

It was strange to hear the rest of the story, at least the side from Frank's point of view. It filled in just a few gaps that I had, and as I sat on the counter top, I spoke rather suddenly.

"Tommy." It was a name that sounded foreign on my tongue, but at the same time just barely familiar. "Tommy Wild."

Jameson voiced his confusion, offering a hand to me as I jumped from my spot, my mug making a rather aggressive noise as it landed on the space beside me. I grabbed the home phone, dialing the number for the fifty-fourth precinct and waiting patiently for the Officer at reception to answer.

"Officer Dodges, how can I help you?"

I spoke quickly, asking to be pushed through to Detective Reagan's desk, and uttered a 'thank you' when she did so. Danny took a moment to answer.

"Danny! I need you to look up a name." I said it with an anxious smile, looking to Jameson and accepting the hand he offered to me.

There was a pause, "Jett? What are you doing? You're suppose to be at dinner." The realization that we were both late passed through Jameson and I, he hurried to find his shoes, I stayed on the phone.

"Danny." I put emphasis on his name, smiling when he conformed that he was ready for the name. "Tommy Wild, it's probably short for Thomas."

I could hear the clacking of a keyboard on the other end of the line, and I just waited, hoping more than anything that Jameson would take forever. "I got a Thomas Wild, deceased. Thomas Wilder, real estate agent. Thomas Wilden, doing six years in-"

I interrupted him, "Thomas Wilder. That's him." I was more than sure. "Where is he?"

Danny made an 'uh' sound as he searched more specifically. "9501 94th Street."

A feeling of white hot feared passed over me. The man who had done so much to me, changed my life so drastically, lived less than a dozen blocks from me. A part of me believed it was planned.

"Woah, wait you need to wait for me J!" Danny's voice was loud, and almost immediately I recognized the sound of him looking for his gone. "You-"

I hung up.

Some part of me wanted to wait, for Danny or for Jameson, but I didn't.

I scribbled a note quickly, sticking it in his line of sight and hurrying out the front door. I had my weapon in hand, and checked to make sure that my badge was on my belt.

I'd passed by the house plenty of times on my morning runs, so much of me liked it, because it was unique. A house on a row of houses that seemed to be the opposite mirror of all of them surrounding the singular house.

I was there within minutes, and took a deep breath as I passed through the gate. I was not afraid of what I would find, but rather who.