Hello! I decided to do something fun again and get back to writing for my favorite pair. I know it's been a while, but I try not to start anything that I don't plan to finish. But you can't hold me to that :)
This story is a little different this time, but I hope you will still enjoy it.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Whitechapel.
Chapter 1:
"Was that your boyfriend who just left?"
Detective Constable Emerson Kent nearly spit out the water from the glass that was handed to him by the nurse tending to his various wounds. He was recovering from a rather nasty fall while apprehending an assailant. Besides a few bumps and bruises, he was none the worse for wear.
"My boyfriend? Hardly. That was my boss."
"Oh," the young nurse replied in obvious disappointment. "That's a shame. You two would make a cute pair."
Kent didn't know if he should laugh or cry since he shared the same disappointment. "Don't let him hear you say that. I think he would have a panic attack if he knew."
"I'm sorry if I offended you in any way. It's just that he seemed very concerned about your welfare. That's why I asked."
"No worries. And for the record, he treats everyone the same way."
"You wouldn't know that by the way he's barely left your side since you were admitted. We almost had to pry him away with a crowbar so you could be treated."
"Really?"
"Oh yeah. You can tell how much he cares about you."
"Not that I'm ungrateful, but when can I leave?" Kent replied quickly wanting to change the subject.
"I'm afraid you'll be spending the night here. Doctor's orders."
"What?" Kent replied almost in a panic. "But I feel perfectly fine."
Kent still hated hospitals. After a long exhausting day, he wanted to sleep in his own bed and crash for the next 24 hours.
"He just wants to make sure that you're not exhibiting any lingering effects from that tumble you took down the stairwell. After all, you do have a nasty bump on the back of your head and quite a bit of bruising."
Kent's expression immediately became crestfallen. "Is it really necessary?"
"It's standard protocol. You'll probably feel like hell in the morning after the painkillers wear off anyways."
"It's just that I'd feel more comfortable at home."
"I know," she replied in sympathy. "Is there anyone you would like us to contact to let them know about your condition?"
"I've already taken care of that," Chandler replied from the doorway. "Your flat mates send their regards as well your mother, Kent."
"You spoke with her?" Kent asked worriedly. He dreaded the thought that perhaps his mother might have told Chandler some embarrassing story about her only son. "What did she say?"
"She was worried of course, but I assured her that you were in good hands. However, I wouldn't be surprised if she came by the first thing in the morning."
"Lovely. Just what I needed," Kent muttered sarcastically under his breath. He would probably be hearing another lecture on the dangers of his profession yet again.
"Nurse, would it be all right for me to stay here for a while?" Chandler asked tentatively.
"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt. But no more than 10 minutes. Mr. Kent needs his rest."
"Thank you."
"You don't have to stay here with me, sir," Kent offered when it was just the two of them left in the room. "I'm fine."
"I know I don't have to," Chandler replied, pulling up a chair next to Kent's bed. "I want to. Besides, don't you hate hospitals?"
Kent smiled gently. He was touched that his DI would remember something that happened in the beginning of his tenure when they were still practically strangers.
"The last time we were together in a hospital like this, it was when you got striped," Chandler spoke softly. "I thought that with time, the feeling of guilt would go away, but it hasn't. I want you to know that I'll always feel responsible for what happened to you, Kent."
"It wasn't your fault, sir. It comes with the territory. You and I both know that."
"It doesn't make me feel better. I promised myself that I would never put you in a similar situation. I failed you again."
"I don't blame you for what happened tonight or what happened in the past. Why should you?"
"I put you in a dangerous situation because I underestimated the enemy. It was my mistake that caused you so much pain and suffering by Jimmy and Johnny Kray. You could have ended up paralyzed for the rest of your life. That's why I can't forgive myself."
"You know, I'm not as frail and weak as everyone seems to think I am," Kent offered after a moment of silence. "I survived, in spite of everything they did to me. Doesn't that prove that I'm a capable detective?"
"I've never doubted your abilities Kent," Chandler replied earnestly as he looked into Kent's eyes.
"That may be, but if you keep thinking that it's always your fault whenever I'm injured on the job, that's exactly what you're doing."
"I'm sorry, but I can't help it. I have a responsibility for all my team members. I know you can handle the job Kent, but ever since I came to Whitechapel, it feels like I've caused nothing but pain and suffering."
"You're the only one that feels that way, sir. If you hadn't stopped all those murders, there would have been a hell of a whole lot more. I don't know if anyone else could have solved those out-of-the- ordinary cases the way that you did."
"Sometimes I wonder if I'm making any difference at all."
"I'm sure DS Miles would beg to differ. If you hadn't stayed with him when he got stabbed by the copycat Ripper murderer, he wouldn't have made it through. You HAVE made a difference, sir. More than you even realize."
"Why are you always so supportive of me Kent? Even when you forgave me for accusing you of being the mole in the Kray case, you didn't hold it against me. You would have had every right to feel resentful under the circumstances."
"It's because you're the only one that ever gave me the confidence to become a better cop," Kent replied without hesitation. "When you first came to Whitechapel, you believed in me like no one else did. Not even myself. For the first time, I felt needed. I felt like I could make a contribution. And I had a reason for wanting to be a better detective. Doesn't a good leader inspire those around him?"
"I didn't know you felt that way, Kent."
"Does it…bother you?"
"Only the fact that I don't deserve such high praise. Surely there must be more to it than that?"
"Well, to be honest I…I…" Kent stammered nervously.
"What is it? You know that you can talk to me about anything."
Kent's big brown eyes showed uncertainty as he debated whether or not to confess his secret, which practically everyone at the station knew about, or least highly suspected. Everyone except the person who mattered the most. DC Emerson Kent was hopelessly in love with DI Joseph Chandler. He wanted to tell Chandler how he felt about him more times than he could count, but there never seemed to be the right time or place. And the words he wanted to say never seemed to come out of his mouth. This wasn't an infatuation. Kent had gradually developed a deep sincere love for the man he called his boss. Too many times, he talked himself out of confessing his feelings. He had never been one to take many chances in life. But now, he had the perfect opportunity to tell the object of his affections how he felt about him. If Kent didn't speak now, maybe he would never get the chance again.
Kent gulped nervously before starting. "I've always liked you, sir," he added softy, keeping his gaze averted from Chandler.
"I've always liked you too, Kent. I consider you a friend," Chandler replied, oblivious to what Kent was trying to convey.
The younger detective then lifted his head and looked directly into Chandler's baby blue eyes. There was no trace of doubt or hesitation as he replied, "I like you more than just a friend."
It took Chandler a few seconds to register the full meaning of Kent's declaration of his feelings. He felt his control slipping rapidly as he realized what the younger man was telling him. His palms were sweaty and his breathing became labored with anxiety. His heart felt like it was beating a mile a minute. In fact, it felt like a jackhammer was beating against his chest. Where was his damned tiger balm when he needed it?
"Sir?" Kent prompted, after a long uncomfortable silence permeated the room.
Chandler's expression reflected a mixture of conflict and anxiety. It was too much for him. He couldn't handle these emotions. He couldn't go through it again.
"I…I think it would be best if you forget about these feelings. I have to go. Get some rest, Kent," Chandler replied quickly as he got up and headed for the door before his brain exploded.
"Wait! Please don't go…" Kent pleaded in vain.
The older man couldn't get away from him fast enough. Kent sank back into the pillows and closed his eyes, knowing now that his dreams of being with Chandler were never going to come to fruition; not after the reaction he had just witnessed. He should have realized by now that Chandler would never feel the same way about him. Up until this point, he had been willing to wait patiently for Chandler to warm his heart to him. Even when Chandler started to show interest in other women, he didn't give up. But after seeing Chandler's reaction to his confession firsthand, Kent was now forced to accept the harsh reality that he had been living in a fantasy. To add insult to injury, his head was beginning to throb painfully. But everything paled in comparison to the ache in his heart.
To be continued
Uploaded: 01Feb2015
AN: My poor poor Kent :(
