Picking Up The Pieces
Chapter 3
Mike headed for the door but then hesitated as Steve's nervousness started to rub off on him. Heading into the living room he peeked out the side window and saw Bob Patterson standing on the top step and cursed his momentary foolishness. Rushing back out into the hall, he opened the door and let Bob in, explaining the situation confidentially as he guided Bob down the hall towards Steve's bedroom, past the horrifying bloodstains in various places along the hall floor.
An hour later, Mike opened the bedroom door from the inside and after Bob had exited, he followed him back outside, casting one more glance back in at the still form of his now sleeping partner in the darkened room before quietly closing the door over behind him.
"Well? What do you think Bob?"
"Well ... I wish he'd let us take him to get that head of his x-rayed just to be on the safe side but seeing as he's adamant about it, I think he'll be ok. He was still fairly lucid and his pupil reactions weren't as off as they could have been. At a guess and without any further Hospital tests to help my diagnosis, I'd figure it to be a mild to a moderate concussion. He needs to rest and take it easy. I'll leave you some pain meds and a prescription for antibiotics for those wounds. His head took six stitches and his hand took ten. Better to start on some antibiotics just to be on the safe side to try and ward off infection but I'd recommend him being watched very closely for the next twenty four hours at least. If he disimproves, his headaches get worse or the vomiting starts up again, I'd get him down to Franklin ASAP."
"Ok, thanks Bob ... I really appreciate you coming out so late ... I'd ah ... offer you some coffee but I'm not sure if there are any cups left unbroken in there."
Bob Patterson stared into the small kitchen at the wanton destruction and whistled.
"That's some mess ... Did she do all that as well?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so and that's just the half of it ... The living room is every bit as bad ..."
"He won't press charges?"
"No ... I'm afraid he's as adamant about that as he is about going to get seen at the Hospital. I wanted to get the boys down to even photograph it you know? Just even to have a record of what happened but he wouldn't hear of it ... I hate to say it but at times he's even more stubborn than me!"
"It's a tough one Mike ... You can't force him to press charges but from his wounds alone, he's lucky you were ringing me and not your friend Bernie down town."
Mike swallowed hard at that statement.
"So I was right. It could have been a lot worse?"
"Well if she'd hit him even a small bit harder or if she'd hit the back of his head then who knows? ... But yes, it could have been a lot worse. For now what I gave him should help him sleep for a little while but keep a close eye on him. Well, I had better get going. Good luck Mike."
Mike followed Bob Patterson back down the Hall to the front door and watched as his old friend opened it.
"Thanks for coming over Bob and taking care of him for me. I really appreciate it. I didn't know who else to call."
"Anytime Mike ... You know, he didn't want you to get the lab team down to photograph the mess she caused but there's nothing stopping YOU from photographing it. Just a thought."
Mike grinned broadly.
"You know you may just have a point. I HADN'T thought of that. Thanks Bob. I think I'll do just that. Good night and all the best."
"Goodnight Mike and remember where Steve is concerned ... If in doubt ..."
" ... ship him out. I know. Don't worry ... If he gets any worse, I'll call an ambulance whether he likes it or not. Take care."
Mike watched Bob head down the outside steps and waved as the Doctor got into his car and drove off. The night air was cool and Mike took several deep breaths of it to clear his head. Something told him that it was going to be a long night. Closing the door and heading back inside, Mike remembered that Steve had a camera somewhere in his bedroom and as that room hadn't been touched by Connie, then hopefully the camera would be ok too. He just had to hope there would be a film canister in it, that is IF he could even find it.
He knew where Steve kept a torch in case of a power cut so he found that handily enough just inside the bedroom door. Switching it on he started to look around quietly with it for Steve's camera. He disliked searching through Steve's things but he felt it was necessary under the circumstances. Luckily for Mike, luck was on his side as he opened the wardrobe and saw the camera immediately up on the top shelf. Taking it down, he noticed that it had a film in that was only half used. Yes! His luck was definitely in. He turned off the torch and stood perfectly still as Steve fidgeted momentarily over on the bed, groaning and mumbling incoherently in his drug induced sleep. He waited until Steve had settled and quietened again and then he moved quietly across to the door and exited, shutting the door silently behind him. He had a lot of work to do.
Mike photographed everything that had been destroyed in the small apartment and felt better about things having accumulated evidence in case he managed to persuade Steve to use it. It was almost two am when he finished and having found to his relief one kitchen press untouched, he managed to find some unbroken mugs and made himself some coffee to keep himself awake. Then he decided to use his time wisely to start to clean up the mess and so he got the dustpan and brush out and started to clear away the broken fragments of the vase from the hall floor. He was halfway through, down on his hands and knees when he heard the bedroom door handle rattle behind him and he looked around quickly in time to see a rather drowsy and dazed looking Steve emerge from the darkened room, leaning noticeably heavily against the door frame.
"STEVE? What are you doing out of bed? The Doc said you had to rest."
The bright light in the hall seemed to blind the young man temporarily at first as he watched Steve cover his eyes with his good hand and heard him mumble almost incoherently.
"I ... I heard noises ... What ... what are you doing on the floor Mike?"
"Oh I'm sorry ... You probably just heard me ... I was just starting to try and clean up a bit. Go back to bed will you ... before you fall over ..."
Steve ignored the instruction though and stumbled forward precariously, holding the side wall as if for dear life and using it to keep himself upright. He reached down and tapped Mike's back lightly before mumbling again.
"No, no, don't do that Mike ... You don't have to clean that up ... I'll ... I'll do it tomorrow ... Just ... just leave it, ok?"
"Steve, please? Don't worry about it ... Just go back to bed. You shouldn't be trying to walk around ... The Doc gave you something to help you sleep. It's not safe to try and be up and about."
Steve stubbornly didn't seem to hear the second instruction either or else he was blatantly ignoring the unwanted directive as he continued to stumble further along the hall towards the living room, his feet flailing in an awkward fashion as he walked, criss-crossing instead of one in front of the other like they were supposed to.
Mike scrambled back up to his feet in a hurry as he watched Steve wobble slightly when he hit the doorway to the living room, afraid that the young man would pitch forward at any second. He came behind him and grabbed his waist, steadying him as he spoke again more firmly, watching Steve closely as he did.
"Steve? Are you listening to me? You SHOULDN'T be out of bed ..."
Steve blinked several times and then slurred his words worryingly.
"Don't fuss Mike ... I'm alright ... I don't WANT to stay in bed ... Got ... got too much to do ... Just look at this mess ..."
By the glazed look in Steve's eyes, he was definitely still under the influence of whatever pain meds Bob had given him but they were also making him even more stubborn than usual. He felt Steve weaken and wobble again from the grip he had on him and so he decided on plan B, knowing full well that if the young man collapsed he would be unable to carry him back to his bed without help.
"Ok, ok ... Well at least sit down on the couch before you fall down if you're not going to go back to bed. I made some coffee a while ago and I found some unbroken mugs. Do you want some?"
"What?"
"Coffee Steve? Would you LIKE some?"
"Yeah ... Yeah that ... that would be nice ..."
"Ok, then just sit down and I'll get you some."
Mike kept a firm, steadying grip on Steve's upper arm as he used his other hand to clear a portion of the couch for the young man to sit down on and then he watched Steve slump heavily down onto it and heard him groan from the sudden drop.
"Easy Steve ... Just DON'T move a muscle, got it? Are you going to stay there for me?"
Steve merely nodded and leaned his sore head back against the back of the couch wearily as Mike hesitated about leaving him and waited a few seconds until Steve quietened, before hurrying off to fetch the cup of coffee he had promised him. When he returned with the cup, Steve's eyes were closed and Mike wasn't sure if he was back asleep or not.
"Steve? ... Steve are you still awake?"
Steve's head sprung up at the sound of Mike's voice, answering his question in action rather than words and Mike had to practically place the cup physically in his hands as he accepted it gratefully.
"Thanks Mike ... "
"Ok, drink up ... Then we'll get you back to bed, ok?"
Steve took a mouthful of coffee and sighed with the small amount of comfort and warmth it provided. Staring at the baseball adorned mug now in his hand and seeming to try and focus better on it, he spoke in a low, slightly slurred whisper.
"At least she didn't break THIS mug. "
Mike sat down on the arm of the couch right beside Steve, not liking how flaky he appeared to be and deciding as a result to stay very close at hand just in case.
"Why? Is that one special?"
"Yeah ... Don't you remember it?"
Mike hadn't really looked at it too closely in his hurry to get back to Steve but leaning closer now and seeing it, he smiled as the memory came back to him.
"Is that the one I bought you when I took you to Candlestick Park for the first time after we became partners?"
Steve smiled as Mike remembered.
"Yeah ... I don't use it everyday so it won't get broken ... I guess maybe it's just as well now otherwise it would have got smashed too, huh?"
"Yeah ... "
Steve took another few mouthfuls of coffee and then looked around the living room again and a certain amount of sadness seemed to seep into Steve's demeanor again as a result. The cup in his hand started to shake and noticing with concern, Mike steadied it in his hand and spoke purposefully.
"Do you want me to put that down for you?"
Steve nodded gratefully as Mike took the cup and placed it on the floor against the skirting board, out of harm's way for now. As he got back up, he noticed Steve suddenly becoming distressed. He followed Steve's gaze to the mantelpiece as he heard the young man mutter alarmingly under his breath.
"Oh no ... No, please no ..."
"Steve? What's the matter?"
Steve suddenly pitched himself sideways across the couch to Mike's surprise as he seemed to scan the floor in a panicked fashion, obviously searching for something. Mike jumped up and raced forward, careful of where he stepped with the floor covered in strewn items until he was staring down at Steve with concern.
"Steve? What is it? What are you looking for?"
Steve didn't answer but instead continued to push things aside urgently before his fingers lightly touched on a particular broken item that he then picked up reverently and Mike could see his chest rise and fall faster as he stared at it.
"Aw Man ... " he muttered in a distraught voice as he held it.
Getting down on his haunches, Mike studied the piece in Steve's hand. It appeared to be the lower part of a broken ornament. A figure of some kind and Mike felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach as he watched the upset that its broken form seemed to evoke in his young partner. Placing what he hoped was a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder, afraid to ask the question but knowing he had to, he asked tentatively.
"What is it, Steve? Was ... that something important to you?"
"It ... It was Harry's ... It was one of the ... few things they let me ... keep from his ... his house. "
Mike swallowed hard, his annoyance at Connie now reaching fever pitch as he watched an errant tear fall down Steve's cheek, the drugs in his system not allowing him to hide his upset as well as he usually did. Not sure what to say in this instance to make the young man feel better, Mike reached up and squeezed the back of Steve's neck instead in a supportive gesture as Steve cleared his throat and then scanned the floor again.
"God knows where the rest of it is or ... how many pieces it's in."
Mike scanned the floor too, desperately hoping to find it for him and pushing some other broken things aside he found the top half of a figure. Watching Steve closely, he lifted it up to show him.
"Steve? Is this the other half?"
Steve stared at the piece in Mike's hand and nodded dolefully.
"Yeah ... yeah that's it ..."
"Well it's not too bad ... It's just in half. There doesn't seem to be any other pieces broken off it. I can fix this for you."
"You can't fix it Mike ... It's destroyed ..."
"Are you kidding me? Here give me that ... I'll have you know you're looking at someone who is a dab hand with super glue. I once fixed an ornament for Jeannie. It was one her Mother gave her and one day not long after Helen died, she was dusting it and dropped it. She cried a river let me tell you but ... I glued it and you wouldn't even see the crack. It's still at home on my sideboard as good as ever. I used to make models when I was a kid, you know? No, no I can fix this no problem. Don't worry. You won't even know it was ever broken ... I can fix most of this stuff ..." Mike continued as cheerfully as he could manage under the circumstances, scanning the floor and the various broken ornaments at his feet until he glanced down and saw one in about ten different pieces and he sighed.
"Well except maybe that one ... I hope that one wasn't important to you ... Was it?"
Steve peered over at the one Mike was referring to and smiled slightly.
"No ... No that was just a cheap trinket I picked up at Lake Tahoe one time."
"Oh ... Good well ... You can always pick up another one of those the next time you're up there, huh?"
"Yeah ... You think you can really fix Harry's one?"
"Absolutely ... Just leave it to me ..."
"Thanks Mike ..." Steve responded emotionally as he righted himself again on the couch carefully and sighed heavily.
"Look at the state of this place ... Why Mike? I mean what was the point of destroying everything like this? I don't get it Mike ... I just don't get it ... She never acted like that before."
Sensing Steve was maybe ready to talk more, now that the drugs were dulling his usual defenses, Mike asked cautiously.
"She had a temper though ... Hadn't she?"
"No ... No not really. She was passionate about stuff, that's all. Maybe a little fiery sometimes about things she really believed in but ... that's what made her stand out from the rest. It's what I loved about her Mike ... She was intense, passionate but ... never destructive. Not like this ..."
"Well in fairness Steve, you hadn't really known her too long. What was it? Three months now?"
"Yeah about that but ... we got on great Mike ... We had good times ... I mean I thought we were really going somewhere, you know? I ... I just don't understand it ... How could I have read her so wrong Mike?"
"Well love is blind Buddy boy. Maybe you saw what you wanted to see ... Or what SHE wanted you to see?"
Steve whipped his head around at that statement and stared at Mike.
"What's THAT supposed to mean?"
"People don't just change like that overnight Steve ... Maybe she just hadn't shown you that side of her yet. "
Steve seemed to contemplate that statement for several seconds before finally shaking his head determinedly.
"No ... No, I would have noticed. I'm a cop Mike. I'm trained to notice things like that ... You've taught me those skills. I would have known. She was special Mike. When we made love she ... she made me FEEL special ... "
Mike felt slightly uneasy. Steve never talked about THAT side of his relationships with him EVER but the drugs were definitely loosening his tongue more than usual. He didn't want to depress the young man more than he obviously already was but at the same time something inside him needed to make his young partner see sense and at the very least show him that on this occasion he WASN'T to blame for what had happened but that sometimes love and poor judgement went hand in hand.
"Steve? Sometimes when we love someone we don't see things that well ... that other people can more clearly see ... We see what we want to in order to keep loving that person and to keep them loving us. Do you know what I mean?"
Steve looked sadly in his direction.
"Are you saying I was that desperate for REAL love that I imagined it in Connie?"
"Well I wouldn't have quite put it that bluntly Buddy boy but ... maybe ..."
Steve let out a long weary sigh and then shook his head as he brushed his right hand through his hair absentmindedly.
"I just don't know Mike ... Maybe you're right but ... even if you are ... that doesn't make it hurt any less ..."
Again Mike reached out and squeezed the back of Steve's neck as the two men looked solemnly around at the destruction of the young man's living room.
"I know Buddy boy ... I know ..."
Reaching down once more slowly Steve picked something else up and Mike heard a shatter of glass as Steve righted himself again and shook the photo frame in his hand and the front glass fell from it in a million pieces onto the floor. Mike recognized it as the picture of his parents that he kept on the table by the fireplace and his heart ached again for the tortured young man sitting by his side.
"We'll get you a new piece of glass for that." he offered desperately and watched as Steve nodded gratefully but still stared at it sadly.
Before he could offer any more words of comfort the phone rang out in the hall loudly and Steve visibly jumped from the sudden, unexpected sound. It was so unlike Steve to startle so easily at anything and Mike feared that the earlier incident had had a more profound effect on his young partner than he had previously thought. He was way jumpier than he should be. Reaching out a hand to steady Steve he felt a palpable tremor coursing through the young man's body and it was enough to cause him to worry even more.
"Relax Steve ... I'll get it ..."
As he started to rise Steve grabbed his arm unexpectedly.
"NO! ... No, let it ring out will ya? It's ok ... Just let it ring out and then take the phone off the hook, ok? I mean who's gonna call at this hour of the morning anyway?"
Mike looked down at Steve unnervingly as the persistent caller's brash ring continued to resound through the hall.
"Steve? ... Are you worried that's it's Connie?"
Steve shook his head in denial but Mike could see the unspoken truth in the young man's eyes.
"No, no of course not ... I just don't want to take any calls right now, that's all ..."
"It's ok Steve ... I'll handle WHOEVER it is, alright?"
He emphasized the "whoever" on purpose and Steve reluctantly let Mike's arm go and watched as he disappeared out into the hall and he heard him pick up the ringing phone. Steve felt his heart start to race in his chest as he listened to work out from Mike's voice who was on the other end of the line at this ungodly hour.