Behind Him All The Way
Chapter 11
Not one to just sit around idly and do nothing constructive, Mike busied himself for the next couple of hours tidying up Steve's apartment. In doing so, using his highly tuned detective skills, he felt he had gleaned quite a lot about his new, young partner. Fixing up the sitting room, he had noticed the blanket strewn haphazardly on the couch, with a pair of shoes and a jacket discarded nearby and assumed that on occasion when Steve was extra tired coming from work, he merely collapsed on the couch and slept where he landed and the couple of empty beer bottles and the ashtray full of empty sunflower seed shells on the coffee table told him what usual snack he tended to consume of an evening. The sunflower seed obsession of Steve's was a strange one to Mike and at times a source of annoyance due to the at times carelessly discarded shells but he had gotten used to seeing him eating them and always marveled at how the young man seemed to always have an endless supply of them in his jacket pockets.
Having fixed up the sitting room he had moved on to the kitchen and opened Steve's refrigerator and some presses. Shaking his head incredulously, he frowned at the fact that there was practically no food to speak of in Steve's apartment. The fridge held about eight beer bottles, a carton of orange juice, a rancid looking carton of milk, a rather dubious looking piece of cheese that Mike thought better of unwrapping, an unopened bottle of wine, and a couple of eggs remaining in a carton. There was a fruit bowl that held three rather sorry looking apples on the counter and the search of his presses yielded a bag of sugar, some tea, an oversupply of coffee, a packet of brown rice, a box of cereal and about a month's supply of sunflower seeds. Well that explained his never-ending supply of THEM but not what he ate on a regular basis. No wonder the boy hadn't a pick on him. That mystery was solved as a quick look in Steve's trash bin saw empty cardboard pizza boxes and Chinese take away cartons, however whatever contents they still held also appeared to be several days old which only further confirmed his suspicions that the young man hadn't eaten much since the shooting.
Mike's initial ten minute checks in on Steve finally lengthened to half hourly as the young man seemed to be more settled after the earlier incident. Running out of things to do he decided to put the bloodstained clothes that were still lying on the bathroom floor soaking in the tub. When he went in and bent down to pick them up, he swallowed hard as he noticed that the majority of the by now dried in blood stains were on the top half of Steve's shirt with just a few splatters further down. The tie was also heavily stained but the table in the booth had saved the trousers more or less except for one section where it looked like Steve had wiped his bloodied hands against the side of them at some point. He remembered in that moment how horrified and traumatized Steve had seemed after the shooting. He had practically had to drag him out of the booth away from the horrific scene and he had then walked him very unsteadily outside. He had felt very shaky and had gone unnaturally quiet and pale and Mike had been glad of the open ambulance just outside the cafe door to put him sitting down on. He had spoken to him several times but Steve hadn't seemed to be even listening, as the shock had taken a firm hold. He had been trembling and his hands had felt alarmingly ice cold and Mike had found a blanket nearby that he was then able to drape around him. At that time he hadn't seemed to even be aware of the blood covering his face and Mike had removed as much of it as he could with his handkerchief without Steve even reacting. It had taken at least a half an hour for his partner to come around and become more lucid and communicative again and the medics had been the ones to suggest that Steve should go home and rest. As he got the clothes soaking in the bath tub, he decided to go check in on the young man again.
Steve started to wake and slowly opened his eyes, allowing his eyes to adjust to his darkened surroundings. He was home in his bedroom. That fact alone brought some comfort but then he remembered how he had gotten home. Mike had brought him and as more memories came back slowly he remembered the embarrassing throwing up incident and cringed a little inside. So much for maintaining his dignity around Mike! His head still felt very sore to the touch and it felt as if it was made of lead but the awful searing pain had eased considerably. He knew from bitter, past experience however that this was the aftermath of the migraine. The worst was over. However the aftermath could be quite unpleasant too. The heavy headedness, the soreness and the unsteadiness could last for hours after the migraine had eased and the nausea could linger too at times. Right now he didn't feel sick and just hoped that with rest and careful movements he could avoid a repeat performance of earlier.
His thoughts went to Mike. He wondered at first if he had gone home as he had suggested but then a blurry memory resurfaced from nowhere. A very uncomfortable memory. He had had the nightmare again! OH GOD! Mike had been there. How much had he witnessed? He had vague memories of being upset and cringed as he thought of Mike seeing him like that. Maybe he had imagined it although it seemed fairly real in his mind. NO ... it HAD happened. He had broken down in front of Mike! It was the worst thing that could have happened. How could he even look the older man in the eye after that? Way to go Steve! What a way to make a lasting impression.
With that thought now torturing him, he heard footsteps outside in the hall and quickly turned over on his side facing away from the doorway as he heard the door creak open and heard someone enter the bedroom. Regretting the sudden move slightly as his sore head protested, he shut his eyes and hoped that if he pretended to be asleep that maybe Mike would leave him be. He wasn't ready to face the older man just yet. However seeing Steve in a different position than the last time he had checked in on him, Mike decided to see if he was awake. Moving closer to the bed, Mike called out softly.
"Steve? ... Steve are you awake?"
Steve stayed perfectly still, his eyes still closed and tried to keep his breathing low and even but he was having trouble getting his slightly ragged breathing to obey. Hopefully Mike wouldn't notice. Mike heard no reply so he walked quietly around the bed to get a better look at Steve. In the dark room, he could just about make out Steve's face and his eyes were closed but there was something off about the whole thing. He smiled broadly as he sussed out what it was before slowly sinking down onto the edge of the bed and reaching down to pat the one hand Steve had over the covers.
"You can stop pretending now Buddy boy. I know you're not asleep. Come on. Look at me."
Steve exhaled loudly before slowly opening his eyes and frowning at the older man.
"How the hell did you know I was pretending to be asleep?"
Mike laughed and wagged a finger at the young man in the bed.
"I told you didn't I? There's not much you can get past me so you had better stop trying hotshot. But to answer your question, your breathing gave you away. It was way too ragged for someone who was fast asleep. Nice try though."
Steve was suddenly glad of the dark to hide his blushes and spoke with a certain amount of awe and amazement in his voice.
"You are something else, you know that? My Grandfather fell for that trick every time." he added nostalgically.
"AH! But I'm not your Grandfather, now am I? How's the head?"
Glad of the change of conversation, Steve mumbled drowsily.
"It's a lot better. Just still a bit sore and fragile that's all. Sort of like a hangover without the fun beforehand.. It usually is for a while after a really bad one like that ..."
Mike nodded and then decided to keep the conversation light and easy for the time being.
"Yeah... Helen used to suffer like that too for a while after she had one. So tell me ... how long have you been suffering from migraines Buddy boy?"
Steve turned back over on his back more gingerly this time and settled back against the pillows before answering.
"I used to suffer from them a lot as a teenager. The ah ... Doctor said they were triggered by stress ..."
Mike studied Steve as best as he could from the light streaming in through the doorway and disliked the uneasy expression on his partner's face.
"I ah ... haven't had any for a couple of years now ... until today."
Mike shrugged his shoulders and spoke sympathetically.
"Well if they're triggered by stress, then you've certainly been under enough of that these last few days to cause one. Mind you not ... eating and sleeping can't have helped either, huh?"
Steve frowned and looked sheepishly at Mike again.
"Mike don't start on that again please. I just haven't had much of an appetite lately."
Mike wanted to lecture him on the importance of eating and sleeping and keeping up his strength but he felt the young man might react badly to it so clearing his throat, he asked the main question that was bothering him instead
"Ok, ok but ... tell me this Steve. Why were you pretending to be asleep just now, huh?"
Steve sighed heavily and took a few seconds to answer.
"I ah ... I guess I ... didn't feel up to ah ... facing you just yet."
Mike was taken slightly aback by the statement and was also worried by the amount of despair his answer audibly held.
"What? Are you talking about the bathroom incident before you went to sleep? Steve, I told you. That wasn't exactly your fault and it wasn't the first time I've helped someone who was throwing up. You don't have to be embarrassed by that. Alright?"
Steve went very quiet and Mike squinted to see if he could figure out what was causing such a drastic reaction, when he heard Steve speak again awkwardly.
"I wasn't talking about that ... Although that WAS bad enough. I was talking about ... the nightmare ..."
Mike watched Steve's head drop onto his chest, purposefully averting his eyes from the older man despite the fact that the darkened room provided sufficient cover anyway.
Mike straightened up where he sat and let out a deep sigh.
"OH! ... I see ... To be honest I ... well I was kind of hoping you wouldn't remember that part ... You were very drowsy at the time from those pills."
"Well it IS kind of fuzzy but the bits I remember are ... kind of embarrassing to say the least ... I'm sorry Mike ... That's the reason you should have gone home when I asked you to ..."
That answer only served to infuriate Mike and it showed in his irritated sounding reply.
"Why? So you could suffer on your own like you've been doing these past few days? So you could not eat or sleep and pretend you're ok when you're clearly not? Or so you could shower twenty times to get that invisible blood of your face and think dark thoughts about how you couldn't help them both without anyone witnessing it? Because I have news for you Buddy boy. That's what you've BEEN doing these last few days and it hasn't helped you, has it? WELL? HAS IT?"
Steve never answered but he stared unnervingly at Mike and from the light from the door, Mike was sure he saw moisture glistening in the young man's eyes. Realizing that he had perhaps overstated the obvious, perhaps unnecessarily, he calmed down and taking a deep breath, he clasped Steve's arm once more and spoke more compassionately.
"Look Steve. You can't get through this on your own. I know you think you can but ... well you just CAN'T. And what's more you don't HAVE to go through it alone. People are here to help you. Willing to. But you have to let them. You have to talk it out with someone Buddy boy and if you get upset in the process then well ... then that's what has to happen. I know you're embarrassed about getting upset earlier and you're probably regretting it ever happened but I'M NOT. It's probably the first time you've managed to release some of that angst you've been carrying around with you and keeping to yourself for far too long."
Mike watched carefully in case of an adverse reaction from the young man to his words but seeing Steve still listening quietly, he continued with a renewed determination to get through to him somehow.
"Steve ... Look I know we've only been partners now for just over six months but I pride myself on being able to read people and well ... it seems to me Steve that you set very high standards for yourself and while that's very admirable and in career terms it's been very successful for you, the downside seems to be that you can't seem to allow yourself to be simply human. Because at the end of the day, underneath that badge and the gun and the vows we make to serve and protect, that's what we are. Human. Plain and simple and as humans we try our best but sometimes ... well sometimes we have to accept that our very best isn't always good enough. Remember what I told you that night on Baker's beach? We can't always save them all Buddy boy but what's important is that we continue to do everything we can to try to. "
Steve nodded this time dolefully but then he spoke shakily.
"But how do we accept it Mike when ... when people die because we failed?"
Steve felt Mike squeeze his arm and respond with a smile on his face.
"Steve, you're forgetting one very important thing. YOU didn't pull those triggers! THEY did. Nobody made them do it. They CHOSE to. You tried to stop them and well they simply weren't going to be stopped so you have to find a way to carry on, safe in the knowledge that you did all you could do. Simple as that. Ok?"
Steve nodded again but Mike heard his breathing labor a little in the dark.
"Ok ... You're right. It's not exactly working my way so ... let's give your way a try ..."
Mike's heart swelled with pride at Steve's words and he slapped the bed triumphantly.
"Good man! You know it makes sense. Ok, well first things first, you need to eat something ... and to be honest I'm a little on the hungry side myself." Mike spoke, rubbing his own stomach as he did.
"Aw Mike ... I'm not sure if I'm ready to eat anything just yet ..." Steve protested but Mike was not taking no for an answer.
"Ah, Ah! Now you said that you were going to try my way right? And food is at the top of that list. Now I've had a quick look and there doesn't seem to be any proper food in this whole apartment. Don't you ever eat here?"
Steve flustered a little.
"No, not really ... Well I'm not here much so apart from some cereal for breakfast when I have time and takeaways in the evening, I don't bother with keeping too much in. But I ah ... meant to get a few essential things in ... I ... I just never got around to it ... Sorry ..."
Mike smiled to himself as essential things to Steve seemed to have a different connotation to him ... Beer, coffee and sunflower seeds seemed to be high on Steve's priority list. Brushing that thought off quickly, Mike laid out their evening plans.
"Ok so ... it looks like a trip to the store is on the cards. Where's your nearest food store?"
"There's one just a block away that I use. It's a family run one. Hannon's. It's small but it has the main things we need."
"Great. Ok, here's what we're going to do. I want you to stay there and try to rest while I go to the store and get us some supplies. I won't be long and when I get back I'm going to rustle us up something to eat and after that if you're feeling up to it ... I want you to try and tell me about Delaney. What do you think?"
"Ok ... But Mike ..."
"Don't worry! I'll just rustle us up something light. It won't be a three course meal, ok?"
That statement seemed to settle Steve a lot and he again nodded appreciatively.
Mike patted Steve's arm one more time and then stood up.
"Ok, will you be ok while I'm out? "
"Yeah, I'll be ok. But take some money from my jacket pocket for the groceries will ya?"
Reaching the doorway and smiling back, Mike noticed how tired and fragile Steve looked all of a sudden in the pale light steaming in and spoke softly.
"Don't be silly. What's a few groceries between friends? But Steve ... try to sleep while I'm gone, will you? You look done in. And stay put, you hear? No bailing on me. Should I be worried?"
Steve half chuckled and spoke reassuringly.
"Hey I'm a captive audience. I mean I'm lying here in a darkened room, remember? I'm not likely to go outside in that bright sunshine in my current condition, now am I? "
Mike chuckled back.
"You've got a valid point there. Ok, I won't be long. You want anything in particular? Some ah ... sunflower seeds maybe?" Mike added teasingly, knowing he wouldn't be needing any of those for quite some time by what he found.
"No, I think there's still some of those in the press thanks."
Mike's grin widened.
"Ok ... Get some rest while I'm out. and THAT'S an order Inspector! " he added playfully before shaking his head and closing the door over behind him.
Steve lay back against the pillows and heard Mike in the hallway. Then he heard the front door open and close and then heard the engine of Mike's car start up a minute later and listened to the sound of it as it drove away. He sighed heavily as he heard the last sound of Mike's car fade away into the distance and reveled momentarily in the sudden fact that he was alone again for even a short time. While he appreciated Mike's concern and help and liked having Mike for company, he felt he had to be more on his guard around him and here in the sanctuary of his apartment he liked the freedom of just doing what he wanted without judgment or comment. He could just be himself and he didn't have to pretend or hide anything. He had spent the greater part of his life alone and he had perhaps got too settled in his ways. Here was where he could be himself and didn't have to try to please anyone else or try to be accepted. He could be at peace or moody and angry if he needed to be without consequence.
Steve felt suddenly very tired, tired beyond belief but it was a weariness not fully borne from lack of sleep although that did play a rather large part but rather a weariness that came from always trying to prove himself worthy. He felt he had been doing it all his life from an early age. And now he felt as if he was burning himself out rapidly as a result. Maybe Mike was right. Maybe he did need to give himself a break once in a while and allow himself to fail once in a while without self recrimination. No-one is perfect, right? We all fail sometimes.
He began to wonder if Mike had ever failed at anything. Since becoming his partner, Steve had placed Mike on a bit of a pedestal and looked up to the older man. The man was a great role model and he felt he was learning so much under his tutelage. His skills in the Interview room were a treasure to behold and he could control and secure a crime scene like no other. He was at times a fount of wisdom and his famous Stone gut instinct was very surprisingly, rarely wrong. He had an uncanny ability to know everything and that particular skill was the only one Steve regretted him having as it was the one that lately seemed to catch him out at every twist and turn. It was almost impossible to hide anything from the older man and Steve found himself almost feeling sorry for Jeannie, purely in that regard and that regard only. Apart from that it thought it must be pretty neat to have a father like Mike Stone. Always full of good advice and someone who always had your back, no matter what. Steve had only known two people like that in his relatively short life and the last one had ended up letting him down very badly.
As his thoughts returned full circle from Mike to Delaney, Steve decided it was time to stop thinking and so tried to turn over and go back to sleep but sleep was proving elusive. Every time he closed his eyes, tortured images and blood covered disfigured bodies presented themselves to him mercilessly so after tossing and turning several times, Steve threw the comforter off himself and throwing his legs over the side of the bed in frustration, he attempted to stand.
A wave of dizziness made him sit again quickly as his head throbbed in tune to his heartbeat and he breathed through it purposefully with eyes tightly closed until it passed. Then much more carefully this time he stood and holding the wall he made his way gingerly out to the hall. His legs felt very wobbly and his mouth felt bone dry so thinking a drink of water might help, he moved ever so slowly towards the kitchen. On entering he stopped briefly as he surveyed the clean and tidy surroundings with half open eyes and shook his head incredulously at Mike's handiwork. He hadn't put his partner down as a tidy upper. His grin faded fast though as an embarrassed flush replaced it as he suddenly remembered the mess he had left in the sink and he took in the fact that Mike had taken on the rather unpleasant task of dealing with it and made a mental note to clear his dishes away more efficiently in the future. Then a cold chill washed over him and made him shudder where he stood. If Mike had tidied in here then maybe he had tidied the other rooms too!
A little faster than he knew he should, he shuffled uneasily towards the living room door and opened it. His worst fears were confirmed as he saw the neat and tidy living room and he panicked as he tried to remember what he had left lying about. Several empty beer bottles. Oh God! What had Mike thought? He always allowed himself a beer before bedtime as a way of winding down after work but what had been on the coffee table constituted three evenings worth. He hoped he hadn't assumed that he had consumed them all at one sitting ... that wouldn't look good. He was going to have to explain that one at some stage to the older man. His heart rate had started to race and was compounding the dizziness and the painful throbbing in his brain. Then he remembered the bloodied clothes on the bathroom floor and the numerous wet towels hanging up in there. Mike had been too busy dealing with his bout of sickness earlier to take any notice of them but what if he had decided to tidy up in there too while he had slept!
Feeling increasingly more nauseated, he now stumbled back down the hall to the bathroom and hesitated before pushing down the door handle. It felt so strange to him for someone to have been through his apartment and to have tidied things up. He had seen Mike in action at crime scenes and he knew how well he read victims by where and how they lived. How had he judged him? Shaking that unnerving thought out of his head, he plucked up enough courage to open the door and stumbling inside he flipped the light switch and the first thing he saw were the bloodied clothes soaking in the bath tub. The sight froze him where he stood and his legs buckled from under him as he fell clumsily to the tiled floor with the shock of seeing them in their new resting place. The sudden descent caused his head to pulsate painfully and his stomach to churn fiercely. He soon found he couldn't drag his eyes off the offending articles as thin ribbons of red swirled from the blood stained clothes into the surrounding water and brought back the visions from three days ago. That was Haskins' blood now swirling around his tub and that stark realization caused a violent reaction as he scrambled across to the toilet once more and began to dry heave as he felt the blood on his face again and found himself shaking violently and he was suddenly glad no-one was there to witness his latest pathetic episode.
