From A Mile Away-Chapter 4
Thanks for reading and reviewing so far everyone, I really do appreciate it. I've been having a lot of trouble getting going on this one and your encouragement really does help. Special thanks to Mitaya, Psyscaper, and Andorian for giving me really consistently great feedback and kind of spurring me to keep writing and getting things in the right direction. Hoping you guys like this, not sure how much longer it'll be. Keep the ideas and reviews coming please! Vague suicide idea if you squint. Thanks especially to Ace Bullets for reading this over and pointing me in the right direction. I was so stuck, thanks!
Spike didn't quite know what he was doing. He heard Wordy's explanation and words and he knew that this might very well backfire but he had to see him, had to get the story from him. Disconnected again, as always. He thought as he jogged down a set of emergency stairs off the back of the SRU. It felt like he was always so far from the team when everything happened. He was always in the truck, gathering information, interviewing people; he wasn't sure if it would be any better to be in the midst of whatever was happening but at least he'd be close to people. He was in the truck when Jules was shot, in the middle of a courtyard when Lou died, a control room when Jules was again in danger, and today he was up in the control tower for the burn house when he saw Greg walk off.
He couldn't believe his eyes. He had to be hearing wrong over the headsets, only in his nightmares did this sort of thing happen...maybe he was just in a restless sleep right now. It would be good to wake up and realize that the whole hell of a day was all an image in his unconscious mind. He can't be done. Spike said firmly to himself as he came to the first floor and quickly walked out a back door. He was on the far side of the parking lot. He'd had to avoid walking by the others and alerting them that he was gone so he had to take the long way around the SRU. He knew he didn't have much time before they realized that he was missing so he pushed his pace up a little more to a light jog as he spotted Wordy's green mini-van in the middle of the long lot.
He tried to think of what he was going to say when he saw the boss again, he'd been thinking about it since the call ended, but he was stuck in a mix of emotions. He was caught up in confusion and guilt and sadness and anxiety. When one of the feelings started to ebb away from his mind, the rest came on full force only to ground him again in new loss and realizations of a new reality. Right now though, as he approached Wordy's van, the predominant feeling was anger. He had to ball his fists in order to keep the hurt and anger from showing on his face as he approached the passenger window.
What the hell? He would have said it to the boss. He would have asked Greg what the hell his problem was and why he would abandon the team like that but he was left asking the question to himself. Where the hell is he? The anger left his body for a moment as fear overtook him. He glanced in the backseat and the passenger seat again before stepping away from the car and looking around, turning in a full circle as he scanned the area. Parking lot clear. He thought to himself as he scanned the blacktop between where he stood and the building. He jogged around Wordy's van and over to Greg's car, seeing it still in his spot but wondering if he was there. He didn't see Greg at his car and the doors were still locked. Wordy probably took his keys. He rationalized as his heart started beating a little harder. He turned and faced the field next to the parking lot that held obstacle courses and gun ranges, different training drill set ups, and the shoot house. Spike squinted his eyes trying to take advantage of the small amount of light that was left in the dusk. It would be dark before the hour was up and if Spike couldn't find Greg right now he would need to go get the others.
He didn't see Greg at first but he saw a flash of light from the corner of the field. The shoot house. Spike started jogging before he even fully formed the thought. If teams were doing drills at night they would disable the motion sensitive lighting around the concrete structure. Spike heard a door open and close, the rusted metal creaking a bit as he got closer. Either he was chasing a very gutsy teenager that had snuck into the house or he had found Greg. He wasn't sure if he should announce himself as he cracked a door open and tried to navigate his way through the dark halls but he decided against it as he walked slowly, knowing every step of the way. They had trained for hours in this 'house' and the paint splatters on the wall showed it. It was hazy down some hallways, a team must have been practicing with gas or flash bangs earlier but the real smoke had dissipated already.
Spike found his way down a hallway on the third floor with large concrete windows. He remembered climbing up the wall next to Wordy, in their re-qualification, swinging into the structure and, his friend at his side, finishing the drill but only just beginning the problems for Team One. Spike shook his head, trying to clear his head of the memories as he spotted a silhouette at one of the windows. He continued walking, not making a secret of his presence, not wanting to sneak up on Greg, but not saying anything quite yet.
He was still angry and the harsh words he had thought of for the boss were on the tip of his tongue but something held him back. Spike was taken aback at how disheveled Greg looked, the top buttons of his uniform shirt were haphazardly undone and his hat was in his hands. He leaned forward on the wide window sill, looking intently at something off in the distance, something that had to have been shrouded in darkness now. His face was sunken and the dull light of an emergency sign seemed to cast him in a shadow; the lines on his face and the bags under his eyes looking deeper and more pronounced than ever before.
"Boss?" Spike nearly whispered as he slowed his approach and tried hard to look Greg in the eye. Greg didn't move so Spike tried again. "Sarge...you okay?" He asked a bit louder as he stopped moving for fear of crowding him. Again no response. Spike thought that he should probably be gentle, coax Greg into talking or at least looking at him but rationality was far removed at this point. Think of the drills. He thought to himself for a moment, trying to ground himself in the job. But is the job what he wants? He walked away from the job today, maybe I should avoid the formalities. He considered as his thoughts continued to race in multiple different directions. Maybe just an honest conversation, we're friends...just Mike to Greg, buddy to buddy. He thought again as his felt his heart rate and anxiousness increase. He could just talk me in circles if he wanted to though, I need to make sure I have some control over this. His mind was starting to reel as he thought of all the options he had, all the different ways the conversation could go and all the different ways he could screw everything up. He'd tried to be rational all day and he'd tried to hold his emotions in but now, seeing the boss and talking to him and getting no response, as if he wasn't even there, he was feeling himself snap.
"What the hell, Greg?" His tone was harsh, much harsher than he had intended. It cut into the silence of the night air and cut him to the bone knowing it came out of his mouth. He regretted it. Well, his mind regretted it but the emotional side of him was finally feeling a little liberated. He bit his tongue and tried to think about what kind of damage control he could do. It might not have been the best thing to say but it elicited some response as Greg broke his focus of whatever was beyond that window and turned slightly towards Spike. He looked so exhausted, so slack jawed and disenchanted that Spike actually felt his eyes widen.
"That didn't come out right, boss..." Spike said as he took a breath to steady himself and tried to refocus the conversation. "You wanna tell me what you're doing up here? I mean...the whole team and, and Wordy, we're all kind of worried about you..." Spike tried to connect and begin the conversation, leaving openings for Greg to jump in and pick up but it didn't seem like he would take the bait. Spike ran a hand through his hair and smiled a bit. "You make this talking to people thing look real easy, Sarge." Spike said with a small smile. He thought he saw the edges of a smirk come to his face as he took a breath and started again.
"What I meant to say before..." Spike felt a blush come again as he remembered his harsh words, "was that I wanted to know what happened today. I want to know if you're okay, boss. Wordy said that when he found you, you weren't really talking..." He paused for a moment and looked away as he tried to hide the hurt in his tone and his eyes. "He said that you didn't want to see us." He looked at a spot just over Greg's shoulder, not wanting to face him at the moment for fear that the hurt and the anger would surface again.
"It's nothing against you, any of you." His eyes glazed over as he continued to breath heavily, trying to hold back tears that were threatening his already tired eyes. Spike was aware that Greg didn't use his name, didn't keep eye contact for more than a few moments, he was intentionally not letting Spike connect with him. There was a long pause and Spike tried to let it persist, tried to let Greg fill it as the training had dictated but he was too vested in the words. He needed to know what was going through Greg's head and he wanted to know it soon, before the rest of the team came looking and things escalated.
"Sarge..." Spike asked softly, hoping to get him back in the moment and on track.
"Don't call me that." Greg almost spat as Spike's eyes widened again in confusion. "I don't deserve your or anyone's respect. I left you guys on a call, you needed me and I walked out. I walked off and people died today." Greg's head dropped to his chest as he rubbed his eyes. Spike took a step forward as he spoke softly.
"Boss, that might have happened whether you were negotiating or not. We're not going to know what happened for sure but...but it doesn't matter now. It's done." Greg looked up and Spike nodded. "That call is done. It's filed away and now we've got to think about tomorrow and we've got to think about two weeks from now."
"No, no Spike." Greg shook his head as he turned and took another step, looking out the window into the now night sky. Spike gave him a minute to elaborate but it didn't seem like he was going to talk much on his own.
"What do you mean, boss?" He flinched as he saw Greg's cutting look at the use of his title. "What do you mean no? The suspension will be up in two weeks." He tried, not sure if he understood where the dispute was.
"I'm not coming back, Spike." He said simply with a heavy tone. "I can't come back." A little softer. "I can't do this anymore." Almost a whisper now as his head dropped and he looked at the wide window sill and the ground in the distance beneath it.
"What do you mean by that, S-" Spike cut himself off, not wanting to agitate Greg any more but not able to drop that title.
"I mean that I can't do this job anymore, Spike. I can't hold these people's lives in my hands. I can't see these people getting killed every day and I can't be the one playing god and ordering someone dead. I shouldn't have that responsibility...I can't deal with that responsibility anymore." He paused again as he took a shaky breath. "Three people died because of me today. Three people to add to the body count attached to my name." His voice was weighed down by pure emotion and hurt and, for the first time since he'd found Greg, Spike felt like he was in over his head. Connect, respect, protect. Spike thought to himself, calmed down by the routine and mantra that Greg had taught him all those years ago.
"Have you considered all the people you saved while you were on the force?" Spike asked gently, trying to figure out where to start. "I mean there's a reason we're Team One, our record is really amazing, boss." Greg was shaking his head but Spike pressed on. "It's easy to remember all the people we couldn't get to in time and it's hard to remember that you were doing your best every single day you were out here." Spike tried to speak with hope and to form a connection but Greg continued to shake his head and look away.
"My best isn't good enough any more, Spike." He took a breath as he looked out over the ledge again. "I can't keep living these nightmares every day." Greg seemed somber, almost resigned as he stood at the window sill and let his voice drift off into the night air. Spike bit his lip again, hating what he had to say, hating the day and the situation and all the feelings that were bubbling up and making him sweat.
"Boss..." He whispered at first, almost regretting sneaking away from the team, knowing that he could use their support right now. "Greg," He said with a bit more confidence as he got his attention, rarely using his commanding officer's first name. "Can you do me a favor and take a few steps back from that window? I just want to talk here and I don't want either of us to be thinking about that." Spike knew that Greg wasn't suicidal. He wasn't going to jump, not on his worst day he wouldn't do that but Spike wouldn't put it past him, in his state of mind, to lean a little more forward, to let gravity take over and end the pain he was feeling.
Spike was finally seeing it. Greg had reached a breaking point. He didn't care what happened to him, he felt like he was useless to the team and to the people that counted on them every day. One too many bad calls. Spike considered briefly before shaking his head slightly. A lot too many things going wrong at once. That seemed a little more accurate but Spike still felt like there were things he was missing.
Greg had slowly nodded and took a few steps away from the window. He also knew that, while he wasn't suicidal, he probably shouldn't tempt fate. He wanted to be alone, locked up somewhere where he couldn't hurt anyone; where no one would be hurt by his failure of a life. He had tried, he'd really turned things around and, for a decade, he almost fooled himself. He almost convinced himself that things were okay but they weren't. He was the same failure that he was before. He let his family down ten years ago and he emotionally left them. Now, the people that had relied on him and had grown to respect and trust him were left hanging in the same way. He didn't want to exist at this point, didn't want so many people to suffer because of him and his flaws.
"Listen Greg, I'm not here to negotiate you." Spike started speaking confidently, as he would to a friend as he moved a step closer. "I know you don't need to be talked off a ledge here, you just want to be alone but...but you never let me get away with that." Spike smiled at bit as he leaned against a wall facing Greg. "There have been time where I've wanted nothing more than to melt into my bed, not move for the rest of my life, not talk to anyone but you didn't let me. You came to my house and you sat with me until I talked because you knew that it would be better for me. I knew it too, I just didn't want to admit it then." He could tell that Greg was listening, remembering the times after Lou had died and he'd come and sat in the hard desk chair in his room, not pushing, not forcing him to talk, but just being there. It had helped more than Spike had ever let on.
"Now it's my turn Greg. It's my turn to sit here and wait it out because you and I both know that however unmanageable this feels right now, however unredeemable you feel you are, and how shattered your confidence might be, we can work through it. You don't want to admit it right now, it hurts too much for you to see it and I get that," Spike paused for a minute, moving ever so closer to Greg, almost within arms reach. "I get it." He said again strongly, his eyes conveying more emotion than Greg had ever seen in the young man. "And I'm gonna be here, we all are. We're going to be there until you're ready to let us in, boss. You might not be able to see it but we One isn't Team One without you leading us and we are not letting you off the hook. When you're ready, we're going to talk about this." Spike spoke with confidence as he stood with his back to the wall, letting his body slide down until he was sitting on the ground. He pulled a small flashlight from his belt and stood it on it's end so it faced the ceiling, illuminating the section of the hallway they were in.
Spike pulled out his phone and quickly pulled up Ed's contact, sending a quick text. I'm with him. We're fine, stay in HQ, might need you. He sent it and turned his phone on silent, not wanting to be interrupted by the calls that Ed and every member of the team would respectively make. Greg was thinking and Spike took it as a good sign but he also wondered again if he was in over his head, if he was saying the right things. He knew that just talking about all the great things the boss had done would do nothing; he was too far gone at this point and he needed to be drawn back into reality before he could be reaffirmed but he wasn't sure this was the right way to do it. He hoped that Greg would talk to him, hoped that there was enough mutual trust and respect, but most of all, he hoped that he wouldn't mess things up even further.
Greg backed up against the wall on the other side of the narrow hallway and slid down the wall, sitting opposite of Spike. There was a look of contemplation coming over his expression as his eyes finally met Spike's.
Not exactly where I wanted to end this but it was getting too long. Consider this me making up for taking forever with this update. Please review. I'm obviously having trouble with this one and hearing what you think and the different ideas is really really helping me. Again, thank so much to Ace Bullets for all your help, you probably saved this chapter and the story at this rate. Also, Andorian gave me some photographic motivation which spurred the final marathon of finishing this chapter up. Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing.