Brad is back at the station on Wednesday, ignoring Eric’s pleas to take some more time for himself, and the pitying looks from their colleagues.

Of course, everyone at the station knows what happened. A Brooklyn Bridge jumper is big news, and someone was bound to find out just who it was that jumped. Brad couldn’t care less about the gossip, but being treated like he might break down at any moment sets his teeth on edge. He and Eric, who has recovered from his flu, spend as many hours as possible away from the incidence room.

The coincidence that Lower Manhattan seems to suddenly be teeming with unexplained deaths isn’t lost on Brad. Their first obvious suicide—a young musician who hanged himself in the basement of a Lower East Side club after the previous night’s gig—isn’t easy on Brad. But Eric has his back. As soon as he rules it a suicide, which takes very little time indeed as the door was locked from the inside and there’s a farewell note that the bandmate who found the body confirms is in the dead guy’s handwriting, Eric takes Brad to the nearest delicatessen and buys him lunch.

“It’s gonna be like this for a while,” he says as he takes a bite from his excellent corned beef sandwich. “And you’re okay. You’re allowed to feel this, all right?”

Brad looks at him, amazed at his own stupidity. He’s known Eric is a great detective ever since he joined the force, but he’s never appreciated just how good a friend he is, until now. “I don’t deserve all of you being so nice, you know,” he says, toying with the bread crust on his own sandwich.

“All of us?” Eric asks past his mouthful.

“You know, Maria and you, and…” Brad breaks off, blushing. Eric doesn’t pursue the subject.

If not for Maria, Brad would have gone to work and then hidden at home by himself every night, but she extends a permanent invitation for dinner, and threatens to bring around the food and her entire family to his house if he doesn’t show up. To his surprise, Brad doesn’t mind. It’s preferable to arrive at a home full of light and life after a challenging day than to return to a cold and dark house where he just stares at the walls, trying not to remember the good and bad times he’s had there with Aiden.

Damien calls on Thursday night. Brad has just gotten home, well-fed and tired from another evening with Maria, Peter, and the twins.

“How’re you doing?” Damien inquires.

“All right, I guess,” Brad replies. “How was LA?”

“Surprisingly good,” Damien says. He sounds much better than the last time they spoke.

“I’m so glad to hear it,” Brad says.

“I’ve had to move around a couple of things while I was away,” Damien says. “I’ve got some catching up to do now and won’t come up for air much. Are you free on Sunday, though? I can’t wait to see you, I just wish it could be sooner.”

“Me too,” Brad says. “Yeah, I’m free this weekend. Wanna come over?”

“Definitely!” Damien says, sounding happy. “I’ll see you Sunday then. Night, Brad!”

“Sleep tight,” Brad replies. He hears Damien chuckle for a moment, then the line goes dead.

For the first time that week, Brad goes to bed smiling.