When Father Joe… God, he doesn't think about this, doesn't acknowledge it, ever, but... when it happened, he didn't have anyone. He was fourteen and he couldn't tell anyone. No one would believe him. And he was angry.
He was so fucking angry.
Because what he'd done… he took something away from him. And after that… well, everything was different. Even his mother's fists couldn't touch him, not when he was hurting way more than she'd ever be able to hurt him.
And when he got older, well… he had a lot of sex. Because sex-if it wasn't a big deal then what happened wasn't a big deal, either. And he could accept that. And he could pretend it didn't matter because nothing mattered, just the feel of a warm body against his and the satisfaction from that.
He had a reputation. He embraced it, even. Mike Logan, man about town. He could have any woman he wanted and while he didn't treat them well… well, he'd never, ever make a woman feel like he'd felt.
And then there was Liz.
He tried to deny it for a while after they'd first had sex, but he knew he couldn't. From the very first he couldn't get enough of her and that still hadn't changed. She was… she was special. They had a connection from the start. She knew almost everything there was to know about him-not this-but almost everything else and loved him and never, ever pitied him, and wanted him, and needed him…
She made him feel special. Loved. Like he was worth something. And he never realized he'd been looking for that all his life.
He rubs his hand over his eyes. Christ. And now this happened. He doesn't know… he's not good at being there for people, not in the deeply personal sense he'd needed all those years ago, not in the way she needs him now. But she needs him. And he… he has to help her, his heart is breaking for her, he's gonna figure it out because he loves her, he's in love with her…
He'd been saving up money these past couple months. For a ring. He'd been saving it up without admitting to himself what it was for but after the Fourth of July… when they'd talked about having kids… well, he finally felt safe enough to admit it to himself. He wants to marry her. He wants to spend the rest of his life with her.
After this… he can't burden her with that. With a ring, with his issues, with planning a wedding…
He'll put it on hold. Because he wants to marry her, but he wants her to want to marry him, and not feel like she has to say yes because she loves him when really she just needs him to hold her and love her and keep her safe…
She doesn't need the baggage right now. And later, when they tell people they're gonna get married, when they do get engaged… he wants her to be happy to tell the story. He doesn't want her to have to say, "We got engaged after I got raped." And he doesn't want her to question his motivations. He wants her to know that he wants to marry her irregardless of this. Because he does love her, more than he ever thought he'd be able to love someone.
His phone rings, and he picks it up, and makes mindless notes about an autopsy result Rodgers has finished. When he hangs up the phone, he's still not focused on work, but on her birthday.
They were gonna go away together at the beginning of next week. He did the research, found a little inn in Rhinebeck, and they were gonna spend a couple days there. They always go to Connecticut or to Peter and Miranda's place in the Hamptons when they have some time off; he wanted to go somewhere new with her. That's not gonna happen now; he'll have to call and cancel. And he's gonna have to get her something else for her birthday… he'd brought her flowers the day of, and a card, but the real present was the trip and some sexy underwear… yeah, that's inappropriate now, he's gotta figure something else out…
Nick had told him this morning, when they'd talked, that they thought they'd have a small cake and presents tomorrow night. He'd shrugged-honestly, he doesn't know if they should do that, but maybe it'll be better for her to feel like things are going back to normal…
So he has till tomorrow to get something for her.
'Why don't you head home early, Mikey?' Donny says, appearing out of nowhere. 'There's nothing much going on today.'
'Yeah,' he agrees, pushing his chair back from his desk. 'Thanks.'
He nods. 'Tell Liz we hope she feels better soon.'
'Yeah,' he says again. 'I will.'
He grabs his coat and heads out the door.
