A Life Not Whole

…With each case, with its abuse of the innocent, the cold sank deeper into his soul. There seemed to be no defense to the encroaching indifference that robbed him of his joy and took what little sunlight temporarily lifted him.

Originally published in the 2006 SHareCon zine.

He slowly lowered his weapon, the grim satisfaction of a job well done little consolation for the loss of a life.

On reflex, he sent a quick glance to his partner with a small nod of completion. This one was over, and as he slowly holstered his gun, he was already preparing himself for the next.

One more soulless piece of garbage had paid the price for the greed that put profit above compassion for those who were unable to stand against their demons.

Although never celebrated, it was a victory in this constant war, and he had long ago come to accept that the outcome was always in the hands of his adversary. His skills and caring were only the final response to that decision.

He had, over time, tried to rein in his disgust and anger at those who would use, define, and then throw away children with cold distain. For him that was the ultimate crime against humanity, and he had only a fleeting sorrow for the life he had taken.

It was done, and now the necessary routine of reports would soften the cold edge around his heart, that and his partner, who, in his own way, lived the same horror and dealt with it.

In this too they balanced each other: hot passionate anger released quickly and let go, against his own inner turmoil that fought silent battles but ultimately led to the same acceptance.

But with each case, with its abuse of the innocent, the cold sank deeper into his soul. There seemed to be no defense to the encroaching indifference that robbed him of his joy and took what little sunlight temporarily lifted him.

He never felt whole. Was always on the defensive, shutting out love and tenderness in case it turned on him to become a thing despised. It had happened too often.

His belief in the gold ring, in the magic, was now tarnished, lost to the reality of humanities cruelty to itself. When he dared look to the future, he saw only his own jaded image looking back at him, becoming more indistinct as time passed. He no longer felt the defender of the innocent, of justice.

Until this day when his partner deserted routine, broke all the rules, and carried him off ’til he stood on an empty beach looking into blue eyes and listening to a gentle voice that led him to the brink of his salvation and then waited.

Those eyes bored into his, lighting fires he thought long extinguished. He was locked in a gaze that understood, that knew and that saw a future they both needed, and craved. It was a meeting of equals, a sharing never before spoken of, but known.

The gentleness of the heart seeking his was the stronger and his barriers fell, making him whole.