Chapter Seven

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Chapter Seven

Roger shook his head in confusion, not liking his partner's mood swings in the slightest.

"What the hell is going on?"  Trish asked her husband from where she stood behind him, concerned by the slamming doors.

"I wish I knew" Roger replied, confused himself.

"Well what did you say to him?" Trisha asked.

"Nothing honestly! He was having some sort of dream so I just shook him awake. He was crying, mean really sobbing, and he wasn't really awake, so I just sort of held him, and then when he had settled down I asked him what had happened, and he pulled away from me. I asked him again and he just kind of flipped out. Then he went. I really don't know what is bothering him" Roger explained, suddenly feeling old.

"I think you should go after him. He's obviously upset about something, go and find him and bring him home" Trisha told her husband. Roger nodded.

"Yeah I think I might know where he'll be" Roger replied, then spun on his heel and was gone before Trish could even say bye.

"So Vicky, what do you think I should do huh? Should I just up sticks and go to protect them? Or should I try and take the bastards down? Seriously I lost you, I couldn't bare it if I lost them too" Martin Riggs sat on the damp grass besides his wife's grave; he cracked open his second can of beer, and lit a cigarette as he spoke. He knew he wouldn't get any answer from his long since deceased wife, but it eased his mind slightly just to verbalise his emotional turmoil.

"I suppose I better finish this, and then I owe Rog an apology huh?" Riggs asked her, and whirled around when he got a response.

"No, but an explanation ought to do it" Roger told his partner, and got a small sense of satisfaction from being able to sneak up on his usually bat eared partner, his satisfaction was short lived however, when he found himself starring down the muzzle of a berretta, held in his partner's confident grip.

"Jesus Rog! Don't do that to me! Don't sneak up on me like that!" Riggs told his partner, as he replaced the safety catch on his weapon and secured it once more in his belt. Roger raised his hands to placate his partner.

"Sorry! Sorry Riggs, but sneaking up on you is the only way to find out what is going on with you" Roger replied, and immediately sensed it was the wrong thing to say.

"Oh great man! So now you are following me and listening in on private conversation well thanks a lot partner" Riggs spat out angrily.

"Riggs man! Listen will ya! You got me worried here okay? I am worried that you are thinking of doing something stupid!" Murtagh spoke quietly, hoping his words would help to calm his partner, although they had the opposite effect.

"What? Don't; you trust me at all? After everything we have gone through together you still don't trust me do you? Rog man it was so hard to give you that bullet, but I did it, and still you think I'm crazy" Riggs ranted, clearly hurt.

"Martin I trust you with my family, I trust your instinct, I trust your judgement, and I trust you with my life, I just don't trust you with your own" Roger responded softly, and the blatant words seemed to strike his partner exactly as he intended, for when Riggs next spoke his tone was calmer.

"Yeah well you're probably right there. I wouldn't trust me either. You got to believe me I 'm not going to do anything stupid. I gave you my word, besides I wouldn't do that to you Roger, not to you" Riggs assured his partner, and Roger wasn't sure if those words made him feel better or not. Maybe if his partner had said he wanted to live for himself he would have felt reassured, however as long as his partner wasn't considering taking his own life Roger could live with it however he got it.

"Okay man, okay. Now are you going to tell me just what the hell has been going on? I'm going crazy with worry here" Roger asked his partner, and Martin felt his resolve crumble.

"Okay pal, pull up a chair and take a drink" Riggs replied, as he sat back down cross legged besides his wife's headstone. He grabbed another can and passed it to his partner "So what do you want to know?" he asked and Roger sighed.

"I just want to know what is going on, and what has you waking up screaming every time you manage to get more than ten minutes sleep so that you nearly kill yourself with exhaustion. Roger replied, pulling no punches with his words.

"You're gonna think I'm nuts" Riggs protested.

"I already do, so you may as well spill" Roger prompted, determined that hi partner wasn't going to get out of giving his explanation. Riggs sighed dramatically then began to tell his tale.

"Okay you know the kid I busted? Well the guy he was talking to through the car window, I know him. I don't know where form or how, but I know that I know him" Riggs told his partner.

"What the hell has that got to do with your dreams and shit?" Roger asked confused.

"Well a couple of weeks ago, I saw him just walking down the street. Anyway he seemed to recognise me cos he looked at me really strangely; he had this really cold look in his eye. He just stared at me, and then he grinned, but not in a nice way in a sort of twisted way, then he walked off" Riggs explained "Anyway after that day I started having these weird dreams, really real and vivid, and he is in every one of them. I just can't place where I know him from" Riggs continued, clearly puzzled as to what was going on.

"I thought you never forgot an ass hole?" Roger teased quoting the younger man, and Riggs chuckled in response.

"Maybe when I know him he wasn't an ass hole" he replied, now lost in thought, desperately trying to remember him. Roger sighed.

"Well you're not going to remember sat here are you?" he asked as he got to his feet and carefully helped the younger man to stand. "Come on lets go home and get something to eat and an early night, and everything will seem clearer in the morning" Roger continued as he lead the way back to the car. Riggs nodded in agreement, suddenly hungry, maybe the expression was true and a problem shared really was a problem halved. He allowed that thought to cheer him, and he suddenly felt better than he had in days, talking the problem through with Roger had lifted a weight from his shoulders, and he knew that he wouldn't have so much trouble sleeping that night.

End Chapter Seven

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