"Have you confused your directions? You're going north.", Mike complained from the comfort of the passenger side of the bench, as Steve turned the Galaxy onto Sacramento, slowing down behind a large dump truck.
"I just need to stop by my apartment real quick for a change of clothes and to take my meds."
At his words, Mike fell quiet for a moment and stared at him sheepishly. Steve figured the unwelcome reminder of past events that now permanently tied him to daily medications made the Lieutenant uneasy.
And why wouldn't it.
He didn't enjoy the ball and chain attached to his ankle one bit either. Or the medical restrictions he was under, hoping to give his body enough time to heal in order to be his old self again one day, or so the doctors had tried to assure him.
Matter of fact was that he survived a horrendous injury that should have killed most people. And it should have killed him. Yet, for some strange reason he couldn't understand but was entirely grateful for, it hadn't been his time. Not that it erased any of the misgivings he had about his change of life after the fact, but Steve knew that for once he wasn't given a choice.
Police work was no longer in his realm of possibilities, even if he somehow managed to straighten out his tormented mind. It was his body that had paid a high price for a few cherished years of working in the line of duty- but hindsight; he wouldn't have traded those years with Mike for anything.
"You are still seeing your specialist regularly, I hope?"
There it was again.
The Mike Stone fatherly doting he'd missed so much. And after the events of the previous few hours, Steve decided to shamelessly enjoy it to the fullest extent tonight.
"No, I usually wait until the old pump starts to hiccup a little…"
Visibly annoyed, Mike glared at him disapprovingly, before grunting.
"If you even dare to think that this is funny, let me remind you-", he began and Steve reached over to put a reassuring hand on his old partner's forearm, grasping it tightly.
"Relax. I am sorry."
It had been a tasteless thing to bring up considering the circumstances; circumstances he was only partially aware of, never fully regaining the memory from the hours he'd lost between getting shot and fully coming to in ICU three days after the fact.
There was no telling what all had been going on in Mike's mind during that time, the terror and fear he must have felt, the uncertainty about his survival. And he could see the change in the Lieutenant's eyes when he finally was discharged. The unspeakable pain, the many hours sitting in waiting rooms that had aged him by a decade, the haunted gaze from an event that had shaken him to the very core.
There was the guilt-ridden quietness as the Lieutenant drove him home, the dread they both felt when it took him twenty minutes to master the steps leading up to his apartment, his shortness of breath and lack of energy a not-so-subtle reminder that things would never be the same again.
In a few drama-filled days, so many things had changed between them, all of them completely and painfully irreversible. And neither man had yet taken the time to fully come to terms with the traumatic breakup of something so cherished and important that the aftereffects thereof still cast a shadow upon their work each and every day, making them both hold onto a past that was long gone, never to return, and utterly unwilling to finally move on into the new direction life had taken them.
"Yes, I see Doctor Lowell every three months. The last stress test came back almost perfect. There's some scar tissue around the heart chamber he is a little worried about. He said they might have to go in again at one point and clean that up but he wants to wait and see for a while."
"Wait and see? Steve, this isn't some cavity or hang nail we're talking about. It's your heart! He shouldn't be playing with the seriousness of the situation like that."
"I'm alright Mike, believe me. It's been two years, remember?", he finally said, only to bite his lip when the emotions of that night threatened to resurface.
Next to him, Mike had the exact same reaction, as he drew in a sharp breath, his eyes glancing blankly ahead.
"Oh, I remember, believe me."
Reaching up to put a hand in front of his mouth for a second, the Lieutenant stifled the emotions threatening to surface, before clearing his throat again.
"I remember every single moment of that week…every second…every breath…even if you don't. Since then I have spent every day wondering what could have been done differently…what we could have done differently to avoid this. How things would be like if it had never happened."
Swallowing hard as he turned the Galaxy around a corner onto University Avenue, Steve let his glance drift across the deserted streets, hoping to blink away the moisture building up in his eyes. Unable to look over at his partner, he grasped the steering wheel tighter, as he slowed down for a vehicle turning left ahead of them.
"I…I really wish things would have worked out differently too, Mike."
The words felt like a monumental weight had been lifted off his soul. Like he'd finally allowed some of the pain and guilt he felt about the situation to reach the open air, hopefully a good first step in mending some of the cracks that two years of separation had put into his friendship with Mike.
And to an extent, it felt like a small step toward forgiving himself, too.
As the silence hung heavily between them for many long moments, it was the police radio that eventually brought much needed salvation.
"Headquarters to Inspectors 81, please respond."
Feeling a wave of nostalgia return to the atmosphere of the Galaxy, Steve slowed down and waited until Mike reached for the receiver.
"This is Inspectors 81, go ahead Headquarters."
"Mike, this is Tanner. Berkeley Police just reported another Homicide on campus. By the sounds of it, the scene is by the guard shack. They're requesting you."
Sharing an ominous glance, Steve sped up again, knowing exactly where to go.
"10-4, we'll be on our way."
"Of course, the killer would take out the security guard.", Steve breathed as his eyes scanned the street ahead, "He'd be the only one who was around besides me. He could have seen our killer, at least if he wasn't drunk or sleeping for once."
Mike fell quiet for a moment, before letting out a pained sigh.
"Well, our long night just got a lot longer, Buddyboy.", he said and looked ahead, a deep foreboding worry clouding his blue eyes, "While I check out the scene, you better come up with some airtight alibis to counteract what our killer is trying to pull. Six of them."