A/N: This story is a sequel to "Cain and Abel" but can be read as a stand alone.

A big thank you to my wonderful Beta Reader Tanith 2011 who finds the time to correct my stories.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, I only borrow them for a short time, for fun and not for profit!

Something for the Weekend

Friday Night

It was late on Friday night when Mike Stone heard an urgent knock on his door. "Who is it?" he asked cautiously, as he was not expecting any visitor to brave the pouring rain so late at night.

"It's me, Mike. Can I come in?"

Mike recognised the voice of his younger partner Steve Keller and rushed to open the door, knowing that Steve wouldn't call in the middle of the night unless there was a valid reason. Steve stumbled in and almost fell into his arms. Mike grabbed the young man to steady him and took in his appearance in a quick glance: soaked to the skin, shivering from the cold, torn shirtsleeves, battered face, some evidence of bleeding and bruising. Definitely an emergency.

"What happened? Are you alright? Let me look at you. We'd better get you out of your wet clothes, you must be freezing."

Steve shook his head, trying to answer at least one of the questions his mentor was firing at him. "Mike, I..." he attempted to say through chattering teeth.

"I'll better bring you straight to the hospital; you're hurt, aren't you?" Mike pressed.

Steve shook his head wearily. "Just cold. I only need to get out of the wet clothes." His teeth were still chattering and he was shivering violently.

"Okay, okay, we'll get you warmed up and then I'll have a look at you. But if I decide you need a doctor you'll just come with me without making a fuss. Deal?" The older man suggested.

Steve nodded his head in agreement, as Mike walked him to the bathroom. Mike switched on the shower to let the water heat up until it was steaming, while he helped Steve to undo buttons and buckles. The young man's hands were too stiff from the cold to be of much help with the job. When the shirt came off, Mike whistled.

"Who did this to you, buddy boy?" He could see bruises forming already, all the way down both sides of his ribs, as well as covering a large area of his abdomen. Boots rather than fists, Mike assumed. "I'll leave you to it and get some dry clothes for you. Please, don't lock the door; you look as if you might collapse any minute."

Again, Steve nodded in agreement and proceeded to peel off the rest of his wet clothes.

By the time Mike had returned with some sweats and more towels, Steve had finished his shower and had wrapped himself in some big bath towels. "I'm okay now."

"Yep, okay to go to the hospital. You put on these clothes and we'll get going. I saw enough when you took off your shirt. Those bruises need to be checked out." Mike's hand gently brushed Steve's wet hair out of his face. "And the cut here probably needs stitches."

The cut Mike was talking about had reopened under the jet of hot water and was hemorrhaging. Mike pressed a folded towel against the bleeding gash. "Buddy boy, you promised not to make a fuss. Here, you take a hold of the towel now. "

Steve nodded again, knowing that he was in no shape to argue with Mike, though all he wanted to do now was to curl up somewhere warm...

Mike carefully helped him to slip on some loose fitting sweatpants and a sweatshirt, before he bundled his protégé in his car, covering the still freezing young man with a blanket. During the short drive to the nearest hospital Mike tried again to get some information out of Steve. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

"Don't know, Mike. Three guys, I think. I remember two of them were holding me down while the other one worked me over, then someone hit me over the head," he recalled as best as he could.

"Okay, that's a start. Where did it happen? Where were you going?" Mike couldn't refrain from asking too many questions at the same time.

"Don't really know. I think I left for the corner shop more or less straight after you dropped me off. Needed some groceries," Steve sounded hesitant.

"But Steve, you couldn't have walked all the way from your apartment to my house, not in the state you were in!" Mike was appalled at the thought.

"I was in a car. I think they threw me out at some stage. I must have recognised the area and started walking towards your house. What else would I have done?"

"Sure, buddy boy, you did good. Do you remember where they threw you out?" Mike probed.

Steve described the area; Mike identified it as a small park, at least a 30 min walk from his house.

Well, any further questions would be of a medical nature, Mike decided when they arrived at the hospital.

"The people responsible knew what they were doing when they worked him over. Professionals. From the injuries he sustained and what the young man tells me, these men wanted to cause him a degree of pain without killing him," the Intern stated after a thorough examination and some x-rays. "His ribs are badly bruised, but fortunately there were no fractures. There doesn't seem to be any internal bleeding or organ damage, though the pain will be quite intense for at least the next few days. Now that the cut is stitched it will heal nicely and the concussion from the blow is only mild. But as he lives alone we'd better keep him over the weekend for observation."

"No way!" Steve protested. "I'm not staying. Please Mike, don't make me."

"Okay, okay, don't get worked up now. Doctor, if he came home with me, would that be alright? You can be sure he'll be watched."

Steve nodded vigorously, wincing as his head started throbbing with the sudden movement. "He'll watch me like a hawk and most of the time I'll even do what he tells me."

"You'd better!" Mike growled and proceeded to negotiate the release with the doctor.

Back at the house Mike led Steve to the sofa. "You lie down for a few minutes and relax while I make us a hot drink. You still look frozen."

He put on some coffee for himself, feeling it would be a long night and made tea for Steve. He smiled when he found the teabags at the back of a kitchen unit. Well, they must have been there for the best part of a year, ever since Steve had stayed with Mike for a few weeks, in protective custody, as Steve called it, while they were working on unmasking the man who was posing as Steve's long lost brother. The memory wiped the smile off Mike's face; the man had almost managed to kill Steve and was in St Quentin's now, serving life for two murders and an attempted murder.

Mike brought the cups into the family room and sat down next to Steve.

"Feeling better?" he asked kindly.

Steve nodded gingerly and took a sip of the hot liquid. "Still a bit cold, though."

"You must have been in those wet clothes for ages. What happened to your coat? Were you wearing it when you went to the shop?" Mike wanted to know.

Steve paused for a moment. "Yeah, I did. I literally went in, checked the fridge, grabbed a shopping bag and went out again, without stopping for anything else." Steve swallowed and his face turned a ghastly shade of grey.

"You mean, you brought everything with you?" Mike feared the answer he was almost sure he would receive.

"Yes, my wallet, my ID, my shield, oh my God, my .38! Keys, everything…" Steve stammered.

"Don't panic, I rang in the assault while you were having your x-rays taken, there's a black and white unit searching the Green as we speak. I'll ring again and get a unit out to your place in case the punks are trying to burgle you or get away with your car." Mike didn't mention the loss of Steve's service revolver. No need to stress how much damage could be done with the weapon, when Steve was too acutely aware of it already.

Mike watched his friend while he was making the phone call. He could see that Steve was struggling to stay awake and listen to the call, but exhaustion got the better of him and he fell asleep.

Mike fetched a blanket and wrapped it around the young man. He decided to let him sleep where he was for a two hour stretch, then he had to wake him up anyhow to check if he was responding. It was going to be a long night.