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Taking another swig from his bottle, Chimney lets his legs dangle from the ledge as he looks down at the street below him.
He is so tired. Mentally and physically. In these past few weeks, he has spent all of his free time running. Running until the bottoms of his feet ache and sting every time he takes a step. It was a reminder of what has happened, and he guesses it is also a punishment of sorts.
He knows his sudden obsession with running is just a result of him wanting to stop his brain from thinking. Thinking about that night in the lab. Thinking about what he could have possibly done differently. Thinking about why he was here instead of Bobby.
It’s also a way to avoid talking to anyone. He hates seeing that pity in Maddie’s eyes every time he goes home, which is another thing he feels guilty about because he knows she’s worried about him and she has every right to be. He just can’t stand being around anyone right now. He can’t stand being here.
It should’ve been him. He shouldn’t be here. It isn’t right. Chimney had already accepted his fate. He had Bobby promise him that he’ll take care of his family for him, and he did promised, knowing he would be the one to not make it out of there.
Goddammit.
He closes his eyes as he lets more vodka slide down his throat, the stinging feeling starting to bring him comfort. A few drops fall down his chin from his mouth as he slips the bottle from his mouth, and he wipes them with his suit sleeve.
Oh, yeah. He’s meant to be on his way to the funeral. Well, he is, in a way. Maybe they’ll bury him next to Bobby.
Maddie’s strong. She’ll understand why he’s doing this. How he can’t live with himself anymore. And Buck will be there for her, he’ll help her with Jee, he’ll be by her side when she has their son. He wishes he could be there, but he just can’t. She has people who could give her more than he thinks he will ever be able to now. He knows she knows he loves her, and that will have to be enough.
He finishes off the bottle and drops it behind him, letting the glass shatter against the roof rather than where Chimney would soon be. He takes a deep breath. He feels the wind brush against his skin and the rough texture beneath his hands as he braces himself for what’s next.
“Chimney?”
His eyes shoot open and his body freezes up. It must have been the wind because there’s no way that is who he thinks it is.
“Chim?”
Okay, maybe it’s not wind, but he doesn’t turn around because he does not want to break the small sliver of hope that somehow formed inside him.
“Bobby?” He manages to croak out.
“Yeah, Chim. It’s me.”
He turns his body to look behind him and sure enough…yeah, Bobby is standing right there in his uniform, looking more alive than Chimney thought he would.
“How– How are you here?”
“Oh, well, I’m not actually here.” He snickers and walks closer, stopping to stand right next to him from behind the ledge. Chimney follows him through the motion, unable to keep his eyes off of him. “I think I came from whatever was in this bottle.” Bobby makes the point to lift and lower his foot when he says it and the glass somehow crunches beneath his feet.
“Oh.” He shortly says, his grip on the ledge tightens, the small rocks digging into his skin.
“I should be asking you what you’re doing here. Don’t you have my funeral to catch?” He tilts his head while raising an eyebrow.
“Well, I was planning on joining you.” He shakingly sighs as he turns to look in front of him, his eyes flicking down to the road beneath them.
“Hey, I didn’t sacrifice myself for you just for that to go to waste.” He jokes, and Chimney knows this isn’t Bobby, that Bobby would never be this cruel. He knows that whoever or whatever was standing beside him was some sick, twisted version of him that manifested from his delirious mind and guilty subconscious, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling the rage begin to bubble up in his chest as tears prick in his eyes.
“You knew it was supposed to be me. I was supposed to die in that lab.”
“But you didn’t, Chim. It was either me or you, and I chose you.”
“Why didn’t I get a choice? Why was it all on you to make that decision?” The tears escape from his grasp and start to fall down his cheeks.
“Because I was the captain. It was my job to make those kinds of decisions.”
“Well as captain, you also taught us that when faced with two bad options, you always look for a third. Where was that protocol that day? Did you ever consider that maybe, just maybe, there was a way for both of us to make it out of there?”
“Have you considered that there wasn’t?” He crosses his arms, his face going stern.
“I have replayed that day over and over in my head every single day for the past two weeks, thinking about it…”
“And?”
He looks forward and down, and shakes his head. “...and nothing.”
Bobby leans his hands against the ledge, allowing him to lean over and force Chimney to at least see him in his peripheral vision. “So, let me get this straight. In the past 14 days, you haven’t been able to think of a solution, but you’re mad at me because you think I was able to figure out something in less than 24 hours and purposely chose not to?”
“I don’t know how else to feel.” He swallows the lump caught in his throat. “If I don’t put the blame on you, if I’m not angry at you, if I don’t hate you, the blame and anger and hate all comes back to me.”
“Then blame me. Be angry at me. Hate me.” Chimney sniffles and wipes the tears before looking at him properly. “You just can’t let yourself sit in this hurt forever, especially alone. You need to talk to someone.”
“I just don’t know how to live my life knowing this time I was given was meant to be yours. I’ll never be able to live up to you, Cap.”
Bobby’s face softens, and it’s the first time on this roof he’s looked like how Chimney remembered him. “Chim, no one is asking you to do that.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
Bobby moves one of his hands against the ledge, just close enough not to touch him. “You’re just meant to live.”
Chimney smiles and nods, still not fully convinced, but it was just so nice to hear his voice and be able to come to him for advice again that he let himself believe he was. The sound of the roof entrance door opening and closing takes him out of the moment and allows him to come to his senses. He turns to see Buck cautiously standing at a distance.
“Hey, Buck.”
“Hey, Chim.” He hesitantly says as his gaze goes down to the shattered glass beneath him before looking back up at him.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll clean it up when we get back. I was just talking to–” He turns back to Bobby, who is now gone. He scoffs before turning back to Buck. “I was just talking to myself.”
“Okay…” Buck doesn’t press on it, and Chimney doesn’t know if he should be thankful or not. “...We gotta get going. I promised Maddie I’d pick you up.”
“Alright. Let’s go then.” He smiles and gets off the ledge, walking past Buck towards the door, who was just staring at him before he breaks out of his daze and follows behind him.
Chimney knows he’ll never be the same again. He knows a part of him will never be able to forgive Bobby, nor will he be able to forgive himself. But hearing him, having what happened laid out in front of him like that, maybe, even if just for a short moment, he’ll allow himself to be thankful for what Bobby did for him. He’ll allow himself to live.