'I read your statement, Mick.'
'Yeah?' Mickey was sitting on the floor, legs drawn up in front of his chest, and pretending to listen to the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. He'd been waiting for Meadows to come back for hours, ever since he'd escaped Sun Hill; now, all he wanted was to be alone.
Meadows walked over and went to sit next to him; Mickey scrambled to his feet and moved away, trying not to stumble.
'Sorry. Look…was it accurate, that statement?' Please say it was, because if he did anything else to you that you didn't write down, I don't think I could take hearing it.
'I put…everything what I remember…No more than that - I blacked out at first, but, but…I remember all the fucking time, Jack, so accurately…I can't forget it…It's not, it's not lies…' And I wouldn't lie to you…The rest of them, yeah, but not you.
'Do you mean it about not pressing charges?'
'Yeah. Not gonna - I can't.'
'You sure?'
'Shut up about the statement, would you? Just leave me alone…Please?' I think it's the first thing I've ever asked you for, Jack, just being left alone here. It's not much.
Meadows walked over to him again and Mickey didn't have the energy to move away. 'Mickey, you promise, really promise that you'll go and see a doctor, and I'll not mention it. Won't make you press charges or anything. Deal?' Like I could ever make you do anything…like I'd force you into this.
'If I go and see a doc, they'll make me report it. Have to tell 'em what happened. No way.'
'If - if I spoke to them, told them everything that was in your statement, all that Delaney made you do, and said I was dealing with the case? If I told them not to ask you about anything?'
Mickey looked up at the older man, almost making eye contact. 'If you told 'em as my boss, not my lover. Don't want them knowing about us.'
Meadows shook his head regretfully. 'When they do the examination, they'll want to know who you've been sleeping with before. Needn't say who; just that it was another bloke.'
'Okay.' And Mickey's body language was that of defeat and despair. He wasn't crying but Meadows suspected that was only because he was too exhausted. It's not okay, it's never going to be okay again, and he's only acting, trying to be nice to me like we always are to victims. He doesn't care…no-one cares anymore and it's not okay, it's not and I'm scared…
'Anything I can get you, Mick?'
'Drink. There's some Special Brew in the fridge; that.'
'You sure?' Meadows tried to catch his eye, surprised because the lager was his and Mickey normally claimed that it was too strong.
'Yeah.'
Meadows brought the cans over, gave one to Mickey and didn't comment when the younger man drunk that and reached for a second one. It was nearly silent as they sat and drank, just the CD now playing 'Scar Tissue' and Mickey's harsh breathing. Outside, it was getting dark and the flat was only dimly lit. Mickey didn't leap up to switch the lights on as he would once have done, making Meadows wonder if Delaney had left the lights on at the warehouse. It was almost peaceful in the twilight of the familiar room; they couldn't see each other's faces and they didn't have to lie.
'Jack?' Mickey's voice was very soft, barely a whisper.
'Um?'
'Do you hate me?'
Meadows answered immediately, suspecting that any hesitation would be taken as assent. 'I hate what Delaney's done to you, not you. I read your statement; I know it wasn't consensual. Mickey, it wasn't your fault, was it? It was something done to you; you didn't have a choice…How could I hate you for that?'
Swallowing hard, Mickey got to his feet again and walked carefully over to Meadows. Despite the dusk, Meadows could see the desperate tension on his face, the fear and the stubborn pride - the courage - that made him walk towards another man. I guess that's why I love him, isn't it? All that stupid bravery, but he wouldn't be Mickey without it.
'Sit down, Mick. It's okay.' Meadows moved over, consciously giving Mickey room to sit without touching him. For a minute or so, Mickey sat in silence, listening to the last song on the CD. He made to get up and change it but the effort was too much and he sat back, sighing.
'Jack, I'm sorry. Sorry for causing all this trouble.'
'Don't be. You haven't.' Meadows turned to look at him, a dim shape in the dusk that was trembling with fear and exhaustion. Gently, very slowly, he put one arm around Mickey's shoulder. He tensed, then seemed to surrender and actually moved closer to Meadows.
'That okay?' This was the first time since the rape that Mickey had been able to refuse contact; he'd been so deeply in shock in the graveyard that Meadows doubted he could even remember the incident. Waiting for a reply, the DCI was acutely aware of the thin body pressed against his, and that brought back the choking anger he'd felt at reading the statement.
"Delaney forced me to perform a sexual act on him…He had intercourse with me twice…There was no willingness on my part…I told him several times to stop…At one stage he threatened me with a knife…" He'd been physically sick after reading the statement, unable to cope with the images it brought into his mind, unable to bear the disgust that he saw on Smithy's face as he read it in the DCI's office. Now, with Mickey beside him, it moved him almost to tears.
But I can't cry, because I'd only worry Mickey, and…got to look after him first, not me…What's left of him, because he's a different man now, not the blue-eyed show-off who I fell in love with and that's Delaney's fault…Everything's going to be different from now, isn't it? Even if he still wants to be with me, it's going to be different.
'Jack?' His voice was odd, tired and slurred as though he was very drunk.
'Yes?'
'Sorry. Really.'
'It's not your fault.' He repeated those words in a whisper, watching Mickey fall asleep. 'It's not your fault; none of it is. All Delaney's fault, never yours. And I don't blame you, don't hate you; I still love you, Mick. I love you and it'll be alright…'
In sleep, the DC shifted his weight so that his head was resting against Meadows'
chest.
