Adam Ruzek stopped his car in the cemetery, adjacent to his friend's freshly dug grave. As took a shaky deep breath as he grabbed the six-pack of Al's favorite beer on the front seat and got out of his car.
He walked on the grass with his head hung low until he arrived at the all-too-familiar headstone that read Alvin Olinsky.
He took a seat on the grass in front and opened one of the beers, taking a swig before he began to talk.
"Man, Al, I don't know how to do this. Work is miserable, walking in and not seeing you there in your classic black beanie. I miss you. You told me you considered me like a son before, and I never got the chance to tell you, you were like a father to me. I miss you, O. You really did make me the cop I am today and, more importantly, the man I am today. I don't know where I'd be if I'd never met you, Al. But, I know that now, you're up there with Lexi and you're thrilled to see her again. That doesn't change the fact that I miss you though, and I love you, man." He said, taking another big drink of beer and letting fresh tears roll down his cheeks.
As he sat in silence, almost awaiting an answer from him, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around and saw none other than Jay behind him.
"You come out here after work too?" Halstead said softly, sitting down beside Adam in the cold grass.
"Yeah, I feel closer to him out here. Don't know why." Adam mumbled, trying not to let Jay see his tears by wiping at them frantically.
"It's cool, I don't care if you're crying or not. I cry out here all the time. I just..it's hard, not having him with us."
"Amen to that." Adam sighed, grabbing another beer and handing it to Jay, who gladly took it.
"He was always the one there, for some reason. When Terri got shot, when things got heated during my undercover with Camila, he was the first one to get to me. I don't know, it's just how it was. And it'll never be that way again." Jay sighed, closing his eyes to picture the days once more.
"Yeah." Adam quietly agreed before opening a new bottle and dumping it over the fresh dirt where Al had been buried before setting the bottle cap near the headstone, in a row with several others.
"What're you doing?" Jay wondered.
"I don't know, it's just a habit now. Every time I come out here, I bring beer and dump one here for him and set the cap up there." He said, pointing to the line of other bottle caps.
"I'm sure he appreciates it." Jay said, offering a smile. "To Al." He said, holding up his bottle.
"To Al."
