Standard Disclaimer: Houston Knights belongs to Jay Bernstein and Michael Butler and Columbia Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. This is fan fiction, written out of love for the shows. I am making no money off this. I have no money so please don't sue me. Any original characters who may appear in these stories are the property of the author.

Houston Knights Fanfiction

Rock Bottom

This is a sequel to Moonlighting

By Violet to Blue

Chapter 1

Then...

The room was familiar, Joe had been here uncountable times, on numerous occasions, and it had always been a welcomed change from home. But all of a sudden the room was to be his new home and his real home was gone forever. He was thirteen years old and he still could not grasp the significance of the events of the past days. He knew his mother was dead but he had no idea what this would mean to his life. He used to stay in this room in Uncle Mickey´s house when he was visiting his cousins. But the room was his for good now, his new home. He did not want it to be this way. He wanted to rage, to scream, to vandalize the place and to run…

Now…

The room was familiar too. Joe had been here before, though the occasions had been few. Had he liked to stay here? Somehow he had the vague notion he wasn´t as welcomed here as he had been in Uncle Mikey´s house. The room was not his to keep, just allotted as an interim emergency accommodation. And the home he had lost this time had not really felt like home at all. But losing it seemed even worse than it had felt back then. Perhaps because he had to admit it was his own fault. Again he wanted to rage, to scream, to vandalize the place and to run…and most of all he did not want to go through all this again. As a child he had had no concept of what was to come. Now he knew the feelings that awaited him and it made things worse, far worse than he had ever imagined. How could it be that he felt worse than he had sixteen years ago? What had brought it all back, the loss, despair, the nameless rage, reinforced and more painful than before?

A knock on the door made Joe turn, almost expecting to see his aunt Teresa to look in on him. But it was his partner Levon who had opened the door a crack.

"Are you ok, Joe?" The expression on Levon´s face was one of worry.

Joe sat up on the bed. "Yeah, I´m fine," he lied, wanting his partner to stop looking at him with such scrutiny.

"Don´t you wanna eat something?" Levon suggested.

"Yeah, like what? Tex-Mex chili?" Even as he put the sarcastic remark across Joe felt sorry. He knew Levon wanted to help. "No thanks. I don´t think my stomach can put up with anything today."

"When have you last eaten? Must surely be a while by now." Levon still was set on trying to cajole him into having something.

"Doesn´t matter, I guess it´ll be better to just give my stomach some time to heal." Joe wished Levon would leave him alone.

Levon scanned the guest room, his eyes halting on the suitcases in the corner. They still stood where he had set them down when he had brought Joe here in the early hours of Saturday morning. Now it was Sunday noon. "Don´t you wanna unpack your stuff? I guess you´ll be staying a while…"

A spark of fury flared up in Joe´s eyes. "Not if I can help it, and besides it´s none of your business."

Levon was startled by the harsh rebuff, and though he was tempted to answer in kind he let it go. "Ok, you let me know when you need anything." With that Levon closed the door. He wondered what to do about Joe´s negative stance. Perhaps his partner just needed some time to come to terms with the new situation. So Levon resolved not to bother him with any further advances but to downright ignore his presence.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXI

Monday came and Levon went back to work, leaving Joe to tend for himself at the ranch. He hoped Joe would come to his senses soon. He had overheard what the Lieutenant had said to his partner and he knew that Joe was very lucky. Levon´s former partner and now boss Joanne Beaumont was a good superior and she had with her concession given Joe more than a second chance. Knowing that she really cared about Joe, Levon was not surprised when Joanne beckoned him to her office the instant she saw him enter the bullpen.

"Levon, how is Joe?"

Thinking back to the weekend Levon hesitated. He had no idea how Joe was doing physically but the fact that Joe hadn´t eaten anything indicated that he was still suffering from the gastritis. Joe´s state of mind was another matter altogether…

"Levon?"

"Yeah, Joanne, I really can´t tell you for sure."

"Levon, could you please tell me the truth." Joanne fixed him with a stern look.

"Lieutenant, I´m telling you the truth. I have no idea. Joe kept to the guest room all weekend and he wouldn´t talk to me."

Joanne obviously wasn't pleased. "Is that all you can tell me? What about his gastritis?"

"I ain´t sure, Joanne. He didn´t eat anything so I guess he´s not through with it yet."

Joanne frowned. "Ok." Her eyes held Levon´s for a moment. "You can work with Esteban until Joe comes back."

Levon nodded and headed to his desk. He had hardly sat down when he was approached by Carol. She set a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. "Hi Levon." She smiled at him. Esteban and Joe-Bill also strolled over from their desks. "Hey Levon, we heard about the fabulous bust Joe and you carried out. Congratulations."

Levon squirmed in his seat. He wasn´t used to adorn himself with borrowed plumes. Though the result of the bust had been tremendous, Levon was well aware that the colleagues were referring to the coincidental outcome of a development that had gone wrong. "Well, that was really nothing." He picked up the mug and slurped the tasty brew. "Thanks Carol, that´s really a good one."

"Got it from Burglary, they had set up a fresh pot just a few minutes ago." Carol smiled at him broadly. "How is Joey? Hope he´ll be back soon."

"Yeah, sure, just needs some rest." Levon did not want to go into any detail as far as the condition of his partner was concerned.

"So where did you get the information that the warehouse was a major logistical hub for illegal weapons?" Esteban curiously scanned Levon´s face. "I thought good colleagues share their knowledge." Esteban laid his hand on Levon´s shoulder indicating comradeship, yet the subliminal reproach was clearly perceptible.

"Hey, you know how it is. Snitches give you something, but you can´t really be sure until you´ve looked into things. It was a lead, but it took a while and we really could not be sure what the outcome would be." Levon was trying to say nothing that would give Joe and the true nature of his involvement away. But his worries were obviously unfounded, the colleagues were clueless.

"What´s going on? Don´t you have anything to do?" Joanne had come out of her office and headed for the corridor, causing the team to resume their seats.

Levon sipped his coffee. Within minutes the normal business set in, phones rang, keyboards clicked, visitors went back and forth. The day gave no indication that it might turn out differently from any other.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXI

The small ranch house was unusually quiet. Joe had never been here alone before. But then he actually welcomed the solitude. It gave him the opportunity to escape his self-imposed confinement to the guest room without the constant scrutiny of his partner. Joe had stayed in bed all weekend, sleeping most of the time, and when awake he had brooded over his situation. He hadn´t eaten and just lived on herb tea. To his relief the medication for the gastritis seemed to have worked. The agonizing stomach ache had at last subsided.

When Levon had been gone well over an hour Joe slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He disgustedly shed the T-shirt and boxers he had been wearing for the past three days and stepped into the shower. The hot spray relaxed him and the soap he picked up had a fresh woody smell. He washed his hair with the shampoo at hand and for a long time just stood there soaking in the warmth of the water running over him until at last the temperature dropped.

Levon had put out some towels for him, and as he rubbed himself dry he eyed the two suitcases his landlord had packed and set out on the doorstep of his apartment. Joe dreaded to open them, knowing it would make his eviction from his own place more real, and it would force him to accept the finality of the facts. But he also realized it was time to face reality.

He flipped open the locks and lifted the lid of the first suitcase. Whoever had packed the thing had taken care not to crumple things too much. Carefully Joe took out the expensive suit he had bought on the occasion of his last binge shopping spell. The costly material felt nice to the touch and when his eyes fell on the still attached price tag he realized that in his present situation it would be totally inappropriate to wear the suit. It just wouldn´t feel right. For a moment he considered taking it back to the shop in an attempt to return it. But he knew he would simply feel too ashamed to go through with it. The purchase had been weeks ago and they would not take it back. Selling it somewhere else would not render the amount he had spent for it. With a sigh he laid it on the bed and continued unpacking.

By noon Joe had unpacked most of his stuff. He had come across a bag of toiletries and reclaimed his electric razor for a much needed shave. He wasn´t used to growing a beard and the stubble had annoyed him.

Though Joe had gained an overview over the items in the two suitcases, he also realized that many of his possessions were missing. Besides he felt reluctant to store the things in the large wardrobe in Levon´s guestroom. He just did not like the notion that this was supposed to be the place he would be staying permanently in the near future. So he had just left the clothes lying on the bed for now.

When he lifted the last item from the second suitcase Joe halted in mid-motion. At the very bottom lay the photo album his parents had given him for his eighth birthday. Over the years he had filled it with pictures of friends and family, of loves, of holidays and his career. Whoever had packed his things must have realized how precious and private the item was.

With a heavy heart Joe picked the album up and took it to the living room. He dropped on the couch and opened it in front of him on the coffee table. Slowly he turned over the pages. The first pictures were those of his own christening. He recognized his parents and many relatives. Some he couldn´t recall, they had probably died before he had been old enough to memorize them. A picture of Uncle Mickey holding him and displaying a broad smile was prominent among them. Even though his parents had not approved of Uncle Mickey´s mob involvement it had always been understood without doubt that Uncle Mickey would be his Godfather.

Slowly turning the pages Joe felt tears welling up in his eyes. There were all the people he had ever lost right in front of him: his parents, his grandparents… his aunts, uncles and cousins. Some were dead and others were just out of reach. He could not go to visit them and they would not come to see him.

The last few pages of the album were empty and when Joe reached the last picture he drew in his breath sharply. He stared at two smiling couples, recognizing himself and his Chicago partner Stephen Szabo, his own girl friend at the time, Gina, and Szabo´s wife Barbara.

Protruding from behind the picture was a folded newspaper clipping. Though Joe knew exactly what the small newspaper article was about, he pulled it out and unfolded it. "Police Detective dies in Mob Shooting." He felt a tear fall onto the back of his hand. The shooting incident that had cost Szabo´s life, had been the reason Joe had had to leave his hometown. He had killed the son of a prominent mob boss in turn for killing his partner and the deal Uncle Mickey had arranged for Joe to be transferred to Houston had been Joe´s only chance to stay alive.

Joe wiped his hand across his eyes. Was it really worth it to be alive so far away from home, away from his family, away from everybody he had ever loved? And then there was the shame he felt, the shame over losing his apartment because he could not get a grip on his financial situation. What would his Uncle think when he learnt that his beloved nephew Joey wasn´t capable of handling his own life like a man? The Chicago mob boss would never understand that Joe had succumbed to the desire to spend money to ease his loneliness and homesickness. On impulse Joe got up, his hands nervously running through his hair. All of a sudden he felt so desperate, so hopeless and utterly uprooted again. Aimlessly he started to wander through the house.

XIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXIXI

In the early afternoon Levon was out for an interview with Esteban. In a bar they were supposed to meet a snitch. While they were waiting for the informant to turn up, Levon took the opportunity to phone the ranch. He felt awkward about leaving Joe alone at his place, though he was not quite sure why. Probably it was just an unsubstantiated hunch. At the ranch no one picked up the phone. Perhaps Joe was asleep. But the hunch only grew stronger.

Levon put down the phone and turning around he faced Esteban´s serious face.

"What´s wrong, Lundy?"

"Nothing…I don´t know, I mean, I´m not sure." Levon felt awkward. But Esteban seemed to pick up his anxiety for what it was.

"Do you want to leave, Lundy?"

"Yeah, well, I guess the Lieutenant will not appreciate if I just quit in the middle of an assignment." Levon pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Don´t worry, Levon, I won´t tell her. I´ll get back to the station alright. Just go and take care of whatever is necessary." Esteban squeezed his arm reassuringly.

"Thanks, Esteban, much obliged, you're a real friend." Levon tipped his finger to his hat and headed for his car.