"It never crossed my mind that I would have to bury my best friend...that my heart would still beat... the world still turn...life would go on. It never crossed my mind…" CHP officer Jon Baker sniffled, as he wiped at the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. "It doesn't feel real...I wake up each morning expecting to meet up before work...or to find hundreds of missed calls, because I slept in...or having to call him because HE slept in." Jon shook his head, before speaking again. "I go into work, hoping to find him, laughing with a fellow officer...there's an emptiness inside…" Jon wiped at his eyes, but more tears came. "It's not right..." He'd tried hard not to cry. But how could he not? It wasn't worth the fight, he had to cry...but he had never wanted to sit here in his apartment crying with his fellow officers...and sergeant. "He took good care of me, why couldn't I return the favor?"

Sergeant Joe Getraer hadn't seen his officer cry this much...ever. He had been trying to keep from crying himself, but the tears came. He had to allow himself to cry, so the others knew it was okay. Being men they had grown up always hearing 'real men don't cry' or something to that extent. But to not cry over the loss of a dear friend would be inhuman. Joe sat in a chair across from Jon's couch in his apartment.

Next to Jon sat an uncharacteristically quiet Arthur Grossman. On the floor by the couch sat Barry Baricza, eyes red and tear stained. In a chair beside Joe's, Jeb Turner who like almost everyone else was also quiet. They had gathered to be there for Jon... but really sitting together was doing good for all of them. Even though it was only a small handful of officers, it was still enough to support each other.

"Joe, I want him back," Jon cried, only talking to Joe still. Jon reached for the tissue box. "28, Joe! He was only 28!" He shook his head feeling sick just thinking about it. "What happened? I thought..." he bit his lip. "I thought he was okay..."

Joe listened to Jon as he cried. Tears slid down his own cheeks, but he said nothing.

"Why'd he do it?" Jon continued. Since they had arrived, they had heard Jon repeating the same questions over and over. They wondered the same, but no one spoke up. "Every day I wonder if there was anything I could have done to change what happened...it had to be my fault! I missed all the signs, or any signs if there was something...he was my best friend, how could I have been so blind!?...I could have helped him... but I didn't…" he let out another loud sob. "I didn't help him!" He cried. "Sarge, if I'd have done something he would still be here! Why didn't I help him!?"

Getraer shook his head. "It's not your fault, Jon." He choked back a sob. "It's mine..." He wiped at his eyes. "I was too hard on him. I'm too hard on everyone..."

Grossie shook his head. "That's not it. Gary could handle you. We can all handle you, even though we occasionally joke you'll kill us..." Grossie paused knowing that last bit didn't help much. He had been staying quiet for a good reason. He cleared his throat. "It wasn't you that caused this. I feel like I am partially to blame. I could tell something was off by how he interacted with others the last few weeks leading up to-"

"Grossie, I don't want to hear it" Bear cut him off. "I should have done something."

"You didn't know," Jeb said, finally talking for the first time since he'd gotten to Jon's apartment.

"I knew something was off!" Bear snapped. "I should have said something! I figured he was just tired... but the next day... when he didn't show up for work... I knew I messed up." He buried his face in his hands.

Joe shook his head. "It's not your fault, Barry."

Jon looked at his sergeant, he could see the look in his eyes. The look of self-blame. "Joe..." He started… then shook his head. "Joe, no. It's not your fault…"

"I- I saw him…" Jeb said quietly, bringing the attention of everyone back towards him. "Before he did it...he said he was done...I cracked a joke that didn't go over well at all…" Jeb shook his head. "When I went home I got to thinking. Hours later I could just sense something was wrong...I called and he didn't answer. I thought...I thought he was asleep, but I couldn't shake that feeling something was messed up...I called Grossie and we went over..." Jeb stopped. "I'd never prepared myself to see so much blood on his apartment floor when I entered... When I close my eyes it's all I think of. I should have said something...I shouldn't have made a joke. I should have visited sooner..." he squeezed his eyes shut, letting tears slid down his cheeks, but he was too afraid to see the faces of his friends. "He was still alive when we showed up...but it was too late. Gary's gone...it's my fault."

Jon stared at the wall now. "I wish there was a way to bring him back...I keep expecting him to come show up any minute now and tell us to stop crying..." He muttered something under his breath. It finally hit him what Jeb said. "Jeb, Gary's death wasn't your fault. He could handle a joke...even on a bad day. It wasn't your fault..."

"Then who's fault is it!?" Barry asked.

"I don't know! But it's not yours, or Jeb's, or Joe's...or Grossie's...or mine. I don't know who's fault it is! Or what happened...only Gary knows. Blaming yourself isn't helping anything."

"Bold words for someone who's been blaming himself this whole time," Grossie muttered.

"Shut up, Grossie!"

The room grew silent. Each officer lost in their own thoughts. Each silently blaming himself.

"Never again..." Jon muttered. "I'll never let this happen again..."

Joe looked at his officers. He wasn't sure if this was the right time to say it, but now was as good a time as any. He'd have to say it again in briefing when he faced the rest of his officers. "I know you're all hurting. I understand. He was one of my best officers, and he was my friend. But I'm going to say this once, and if I have to repeat myself I will. If any one of you are thinking about hurting yourself, or considering suicide...don't keep it to yourself."

The officers nodded, but couldn't find the words to say...there was nothing left to say.