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Hey Chris,
I can’t believe you talked me into writing one of these locker letters. I also can’t believe that Tan and Luca actually believe in this dumb superstition, that feels about as real to me as one of those chain letters that used to go around when we were kids.
But…you also told me that S.W.A.T. is a family. You said it matters that you care enough about the person next to you to put in the work to do things right.
See? I do listen.
I guess Buck gave me a chance on S.W.A.T. for a reason. If it weren’t for him I don’t know where I’d be right now. I owe it to him not to screw this up completely. So here goes.
Man, what do you even put in one of these letters?
I guess I’d better address the obvious first. If you’re reading this, I probably did something stupid and didn’t make it back from a job. Big loss. I can see the headstone inscription from Luca already: Dumb rookie got himself killed. Maybe you guys even had a pool going on how long it would take before I broke the first rule of S.W.A.T.: never be in a hurry to die.
Hope I at least managed to win someone some money.
It’s not like I’m leaving anyone behind besides my mom and Buck. Don’t worry, I’m not about to go into my sob story. You already know all the details from my jacket. I don’t want your pity, and if you’re reading this I’m dead anyway so I’ll be beyond pity. Give my stuff away – 20 Squad can have whatever they want. The only thing I have that’s worth anything is my bike. It’s yours, Chris. Keep it, sell it, give it to your cousin – I know Tommy likes bikes.
I haven’t exactly made any plans for my funeral. I can’t exactly trust my mom to organise it…ask Hondo, he’s met her. Is that something you’d do, as the recipient of this letter? Is it a binding contract, like a will? I mean, I don’t have a will or anything. I’m sure that doesn’t surprise you. If we’re talking requests though, all I want is for them to play ‘Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)’ by Green Day at the funeral. Growing up I always kinda liked their vibe – I knew a kid at one of the foster homes who had all their CDs and listened to them on repeat, so it kinda stuck. I’m sure you’ll think the title’s fitting – good riddance to the kid who couldn’t keep out of trouble, right?
I don’t care about the rest. Do whatever’s cheapest and scatter my ashes in the Pacific.
I suppose a letter like this is where you write about all your deepest, darkest secrets, the thoughts you’re willing to take to the grave but want someone to know about once you’re gone. So, if we’re being honest I should probably tell you how hot you are (I’m sure you already know that), and how much I’ve enjoyed being on a team with you these past few months (you probably don’t know that). I never thought I’d be one of those cops who had a partner – I thought it was for detectives and TV shows – but you made me realise that I don’t have to do everything alone. It’s been nice to have someone out there watching my six the past year. Thank you for that.
I know you say you’re not interested in me – you made that inescapably clear – and that you don’t date teammates. But I want you to know that, if we’d met somewhere else that wasn’t S.W.A.T., I’d 100% be asking you out. You’re a beautiful badass who doesn’t care what anyone else thinks of them, and I respect the hell out of that. But you’ve got a good heart too – not that you let anyone see it all that often.
You told me to address this letter to you because I was important to you. You’re gonna roll your eyes at how cheesy this sounds, but after you said that I couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day. It’s been a long time since I felt like I mattered to someone. It really meant something to me, so thanks for saying it. And, if I’m really honest, you’re important to me too, Chris. More than you know.
Street