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It’s easy for Karin to be optimistic in the mornings. When she wakes up, it’s as if she’s forgotten that she’s thirty-eight, divorced, living alone, and about to go off to her job where she sees dead bodies more often than not. She makes herself a smoothie full of fruit, maybe packs a veggie stir-fry for lunch, and leaves the house feeling all energetic. But by the end of the day the toll of her job’s caught up to her, and she’s abandoned her healthy diet for a bag of chips or carton of ice cream and an hour of vegging out in front of the TV.
Today calls for something more drastic. Today the world is still reeling from hundreds of thousands of sudden and violent deaths, so Karin’s upgraded her junk food to a bottle of whiskey. She can’t bear to watch the news, so she’s flipped to some rerun of a reality TV show about weddings, the kind of show she would be incapable of enjoying if she wasn’t buzzed. She’s debating whether she needs one more shot of whiskey to fall asleep or if she should go ahead and down two when a loud rap on her door startles her out of her reverie.
Sobering up instantly, Karin gets off the couch and slowly approaches the door. The NCA officials told her that her involvement with the case hasn’t been made public yet. They’re holding a press conference two days from now, but she should be safe from press until then. Did it leak? Is this about to be the first in a long stream of reporters?
“Who is it?” she calls out through the door, her hand hovering above the doorknob.
“It’s me, it’s Blue.”
Relief rushing through her, Karin hurriedly unlocks and opens the door to reveal a ragged and half-dead Blue. Her face is pale, save for dark bags under her eyes, her hair is frazzled, and she looks like she can barely stand.
“Come in, come in quick,” Karin says, gesturing her into the apartment. She locks the door behind them and pulls Blue into a tight hug. Blue clutches Karin back, leaning all of her weight into the hug as if she can barely stand on her own. They were together just the other day, in that awful warehouse full of bodies, but already it feels like too much time apart. They spent almost every waking hour together over the course of the case. The last few days have been empty without her presence. Karin thinks she hasn’t realized that until now, with Blue in her arms.
“Wait a second, how’d you know where I live?” Karin thinks out loud as she rubs Blue’s back.
“Doesn’t matter,” Blue mumbles into Karin’s shoulder. “I came here to say goodbye.”
“What?” Karin says, taking a step back. For the first time she notices the duffel bag Blue’s brought with her. “Goodbye?”
“I’m going after him,” Blue says. “I’m headed to the airport right now. I don’t have any leads, but I figure I’ll get out of the country and figure out something from there.”
“Blue, you can’t just leave,” Karin says. “The NCA’s holding a press conference in two days! It won’t be long before the government calls you in for questioning. And the press, they’re gonna be all over us. You can’t track him in those circumstances, it’s impossible.”
“Fuck. You’re right,” Blue says. She runs a hand through her hair and closes her eyes in frustration. “I haven’t been thinking clearly these past couple of days. I can’t sleep. I just – thinking of him out there, after what he did – I can’t stand it. I can’t stand to stay here and do nothing.”
“I know, Blue,” Karin says. “But it’s over.”
Blue’s eyes flash with anger. “It’s not over! How can you say that? Hundred of people are dead, in the most painful fucking way possible – it’s nowhere near fucking over!”
“I’m sorry,” Karin says, after a moment of silence. Over the years, she’s gotten good at compartmentalizing her life, shoving cases to the back of her mind the second they’re considered closed. This is one of those moments she remembers she’s got 10 years of experience on Blue. Blue hasn’t learned how to let it go yet, and Karin can see it in her eyes, how she’s blaming herself for every single one of those deaths. Seeing her like this, confused and deflated and angry, angry at herself, it hurts Karin’s heart.
“How about this,” Karin says softly. “You stay here tonight, we’ll both get some sleep. And tomorrow, we’ll figure out a plan together, alright?
“Okay. Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks.” Blue’s gaze drifts over to the opened bottle of whiskey on the table by the TV, and a faint smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “Got yourself a proper set up over there, huh?”
“It’s the only way I’ve been able to fall asleep,” Karin says. “Whiskey and wedding shows turn out to be better than Nyquil. Want to join?”
“I’d love to.”
Blue all but collapses on the sofa. Karin decides to go with two shots of whiskey after all, downing them in quick succession. “Here you go,” she says handing out the bottle and glass to Blue. Blue ignores the glass, choosing instead to take a long pull straight from the bottle. Karin raises her eyebrows.
"Oh, don't you go judging me," Blue says. "I'm not sure if you've heard, but I've had a kind of tough week." Karin laughs and settles down on the sofa next to her.
They watch the show without much in the way of talking. It’s really vapid, something about planning a wedding in three days, maybe – as the alcohol takes effect, Karin finds she can’t concentrate much. Her gaze keeps slipping to Blue, who’s hugging her knees on her chest as if trying to make herself as small as possible. The sight of Blue sitting on her sofa feels so instantly recognizable Karin almost forgets this is the first time she’s even been to her house.
“I can’t believe she chose that dress,” Blue mumbles, seemingly hypnotized by the show. “It’s hideous.”
Karin breaks her eyes away from Blue to glance at the show. The bride’s chosen a bright pink frilly thing. She lets out a laugh. “Actually, my ex’s wedding dress looked like that.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I hated it. Of course I didn’t say anything, but I thought it was a fucking eyesore.”
“Shaky foundation for a marriage, huh?” Blue asks.
“You bet. I specifically mentioned it in the divorce papers,” Karin jokes back.
Blue shifts her position so she can lie down and is fast asleep before the next commercial break. With the stress from the day absent from her face, she looks so peaceful. What Karin wouldn't give to see her look like that while still wake. She reaches out and tucks a few loose strands of hair behind Blue’s ear, careful not to wake her. Then she turns off the TV and heads to her bedroom to get some sleep.
When Karin’s alarm goes off at 7:00, a faint hangover headache deprives her of her usual morning optimism. She’s instantly sober to the reality that today is the day she needs to help her friend leave the country so she can put her life in danger tracking down a psychopath. It’s not a pleasant thought to wake up to.
“Hey Blue, if you want to use my shower –” She stops in her tracks as she enters the living room. Her sofa is empty. “Fuck,” she says to herself. “Fucking unbelievable.” How dare Blue leave without saying goodbye? Karin is going to track her down in whatever fucking country she is just to chew her out. She reaches for her phone and is scrolling down to Blue’s contact information when she hears a key being slotted into her lock.
“You’re up,” Blue says, entering the apartment holding a bag and two cups of coffee. “I was hoping to get back before you’d wake.” She looks a lot better than she did last night – the color’s returned to her face. “I got us coffee and croissants. I figured we’d plan better with something other than whiskey in our system.”
“You fucking scared me!” Karin says, the words sounding more frantic than she meant. “I thought you left.”
“What, without saying goodbye? As if,” Blue responds, incredulous that Karin could think such a thing. She plops herself down on one of Karin’s chairs. “So I was thinking about the situation on the way to the bakery, and I’ve decided need to kill myself. Y’know, make everyone think I’m dead. It’s the only way to get people off my back.”
“That could work,” Karin says, taking the seat next to Blue. She grabs the cup of coffee she’s brought for her, thankful Blue’s remembered she takes it black. “Even the press won’t try and bother someone if they think they're six feet under. But what are we going to do for a body?”
“We could act like I’d drowned myself out at the beach. Someone did that a couple months ago, left a note and walked out to sea. The police barely look for a body in that case, they don’t have the time.”
“That sounds like a proper dramatic death.”
“After what we’ve been through, I think I deserve as dramatic a fake suicide as I damn well please.”
After finishing up breakfast, Karin heads to the office to make up Blue’s new identification papers. She’s been on the force long enough that she’s in and out in a few hours with no one questioning her. Blue’s finished up researching flights when Karin gets back to the apartment. She’s chosen one that leaves for the U.S. that night. Even though Karin knows Blue’s got to get out of England before the press conference, she wishes Blue hadn’t picked a plane leaving so goddamn soon.
Blue writes her suicide note in the passenger seat on the way to the nearest beach. It’s clearly a difficult process – she goes through several drafts, and occasionally wipes away a tear that Karin pretends not to notice. When they arrive, Blue places the note gently on top of a pile of her clothes she’s brought. The pile looks impossibly sad to Karin. The idea that it will be the last evidence that Blue ever lived seems deeply cruel.
“Well, you’re dead now,” Karin says, regretting the words the instant they leave her mouth. Like she’s opened a small window into a reality she doesn’t even want to contemplate. “Let’s go,” she says, uncomfortable with staying here any longer.
Blue shakes her head slightly, unable to tear her eyes away from her makeshift grave. She blinks hard, trying to keep away tears.
“Come on, Blue,” Karin says gently, sliding her hand into Blue’s. Blue catches Karin by surprise by gripping back tightly. Fingers laced together, Karin tugs Blue back to the direction of her car.
They drive to the airport in silence. As the minutes pass, a heavy dread settles into Karin’s stomach. In ten minutes, Blue won’t be there to jokingly call her “boss,” or explain in layman’s terms some complicated piece of technology, or come up with some viewpoint Karin hadn’t considered. In ten minutes Blue won’t be at her side anymore. It seems unfathomable. How could it have only been weeks ago that Karin thought Blue was press? When Karin pulls up to the terminal, she wants nothing more than to keep driving.
“You’ve got everything?” Karin asks as she and Blue get out of the car. She finds it hard to get words out, like a hand is squeezing her chest tight.
“Yeah,” Blue says. But she doesn’t take a step towards the airport. Instead, she and Karin stand for a few moments, facing each other, trying to find the words to say.
“I don’t think you should go,” Karin blurts out. “Really. We don’t have any solid leads. This man’s smart, so fucking smart. He’s been one step ahead of us this entire time. He’s got to have hidden his tracks perfectly. And I –” Karin’s voice cracks, but she rushes on. “I’ll worry about you, Blue. I’ll worry about you all the fucking time.”
“Hey, Karin, I’ll be okay,” Blue says. She steps towards Karin and brings her hand up to cup Karin’s cheek. She leans into it, desperate for any comfort. “I can handle myself. I'm going to find him, and then I’m coming back,” Blue reassures her, rubbing her thumb against Karin’s skin. "I promise.” And then, as if to show how serious she is, Blue leans forward and kisses her.
How could anything else matter right now? Blue’s flight, or the NCA, or the press, or even fucking Garrett, it’s all bullshit. Nothing should matter but this – the impossible softness of Blue’s lips. Blue leans into her, grasping the lapel of Karin’s blazer as Karin’s hands end up on her hips. She pulls Blue closer and deepens the kiss, needing this desperately, not wanting an inch of space to exist between her and Blue.
A pointed cough breaks them apart. An airport attendant stands several feet away, his eyes averted to the ground. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you have to move your car,” he says rather sheepishly. “There’s a line.”
Reluctantly, Blue pulls away, her hands falling back to her sides. “I’m sorry, Karin,” she says, barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry. But you know I need to do this.” She slings her duffel bag over her shoulder.
“Please be safe,” Karin says pleadingly. Blue pulls her in for one last brief kiss, and then she’s gone, disappearing into a crowd of other travelers.
Blue’s dead.
Karin goes back to her stupid car and pulls away from the airport, feeling lonelier than she could imagine. Nothing has ever hurt as much as this. She has never felt so gutted. She can’t remember the last time she’s cried, but now she can hardly breathe. She has to pull into a parking space, unable to drive as tears cloud her vision. Her sobs grow so embarrassingly loud that she almost misses her cell phone chime with the announcement of a new text.
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Withheld number
1 New Message
Don't think for a second this is the last case we're going to work together.
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Karin smiles through her tears. And deletes the text.