Author note: not the greatest thing I've ever written but I was determined that I would post this by the end of the week regardless of how difficult it was. If anyone is reading this thank you.
he night of the failed counterterrorism operation, Steve realised that he had to do something to escape the nightmares that he knew he would face that night. He had been certain that the higher ups were trying to cover for their screw up with the Fahrenheit order, but that didn't mean that he didn't feel guilty over his role in the screw up.
He sat with a bottle of whiskey in front of his sofa for two hours before he took his first of an uncountable number of drinks for the night. For the first time ever he was glad to feel the whiskey burn his throat as it made its path; it gave him something else to think about rather than the shambles that their raid had been.
He can't tell you the time but by the time that Steve passed out into a dreamless unconscious state, he had drank a good third of the bottle and had two bottles of beer. He knew that he was heading for a hangover in the morning regardless of the fact that he had work and numerous questions to answer to.
The second night when Steve got home he punched the wall before he opened a bottle of beer and proceeded to take the next half hour to clean the small cuts that are now littered his knuckles and then the picture frame that was the unfortunate collateral damage to rage. His hangover had been staved off by lunchtime but he spent the whole day being questioned and fed lies by his bosses. That was what led him to this situation; busted knuckles, a slightly dented wall and a shattered picture frame, and him now sat with a bottle of beer cradled between his hands.
He had no idea what to do; he could agree with the lies that the rest of his team had said which would cover the asses of the team who took the wrong house and his bosses who gave the Fahrenheit order, or he could do the honest thing and tell the truth about how the raid actually went down. He knew though that if he were to tell the truth he would be iced out, no one would have his back and that was dangerous. But how could he trust them to have his back anyway.
And by the time he reached for the bottle of whiskey following three beers, he knew what he was going to do.
By the third night it only took a few beers for him to realise that he was not going to be able to calm down long enough to sleep unless he took some sort of action. And as such he changed out of his shorts and hoodies for a pair of tight black jeans and a dark blue polo shirt.
He headed for Black Duke Bar with the knowledge that no one from work should be there but Aidan would be there and that meant that he would be able to forget everything that happened over the previous few days. He and Aidan had had a friends with benefits arrangement for the past three months. He wasn't too sure as to why but, Aidan was the only person with the exception of Emma, his ex wife, who could understand when he just didn't want to talk about something.
Once he was sat on a stool at the bar he glanced around and realised that a couple of men from his counterterrorism unit had found his usual haunt. He just hoped that they didn't realise that he wasn't just here for the cheap beers but also the company.
"Bad day, Steve?" The familiar voice of his best friend and former work colleague brought a smile to his face as the pint was sat down in front of him on the bar. Aidan was the same as he had always been regardless of the fact that their relationship had changed, he always knew when something wasn't going well for Steve.
"Yeah, you could say that," was the only reply Steve gave over the next two hours until they left after Aidan's shift.
Aidan had his arm swung under Steve's arms partly to keep Steve from tripping but also for the contact that he knew that Steve was craving. Steve only ever turned up at the bar when he knew that Aidan was on shift without a text message if he was wanting to take comfort from joint contact.
Four days after the failed raid, and Steve manage to avoid having to deal with the majority of his team whilst he was filling out the paperwork and reports on what had really happened. He was just waiting for his shift to finish so that he could go home and maybe actually get some sleep without the assistance of alcohol and spending the night with Aidan.
As soon as his shift was finished he clocked out and began the walk to his ex-wife's house. He had given Emma his car for the day because she had somehow managed to break her own car, so he had to get his car back. He had made it fifteen minutes of the twenty five minute walk when he was suddenly shoved from behind into the wall to his left. He froze for the briefest of moments but that was all it took.
Before Steve could react he had been forced face first into the pavement and whoever had shoved him into the wall was making a very good attempt at breaking his ribs by kicking him. He did all he could and curled around to protect his ribs and head from further assault but it had been a pointless endeavour as the assault came to an end. But his attacker had one last wish to fulfill first; spit hit the side of his face and then he heard the word "fagot" hissed before the attacker left.
He waited a few minutes before he pushed himself into a sitting position, groaning at the pain erupting from his ribs. He knew that they were only bruised and that they would be fine for which he was glad of because he wanted to face his attacker the next day when he arrived at work. The voice had been from one of his team who had been at the Black Duke the night previous.
Steve wouldn't deny it, he had a sinking feeling that this had been just the beginning of what he should expect to come.
Five nights after the failed race and Steve was finally feeling like he could get the night's sleep that he had wanted the night previous but hadn't achieved. Although his day at work had been stressful especially after facing off with the chickenshit who had attacked him from behind the night before, he was glad that he had his daughter with him for the night.
Livvy was stretched out along the sofa with her head on the pillow against his thigh, whilst he had his feet on the coffee table. The tv was playing in front of him but Steve wasn't paying any attention to it but rather was watching what his daughter was signing about her day.
"Daddy, are you okay?" Livvy asked her hands moving slowly and her brown eyes drilling holes into his. He knew that Livvy was more perceptive to body language but he still felt guilty that his ten year old daughter could tell that something was wrong.
"Yes, I'm okay," he signed back before running his fingers through her hair and leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "I love you," he added once he had sat back up.
He knew that sooner rather than later he would have to tell Livvy that he didn't trust the people he worked with and that meant that he could get hurt but right then he really didn't want to ruin their quiet night. Because although he still felt the guilt and stress of what had gone wrong on the raid, Livvy could always put a smile back on his face and a lightness back in his heart.
"I love you too, daddy!"
