He could see the outline of his partner's body in the twilight of the trees, lying on his side, scarily unmoving.
Feeling his heart sink, Mike bridged the last of the distance between them, then fell on his knees, ignoring the cold and wet grass below.
"Easy Mike, easy…"
Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, Haseejian was back again, his large frame towering over him like a protective shadow.
Noticing the tell-tale strangulation marks, the 1/16th wire that had killed so many before, Mike swallowed hard, then reached for Steve's throat, the small triangle between the trachea and the strong muscle running alongside it.
The area where he should feel a distinctive pulse but didn't.
Next to him, Haseejian went down on his knees, then slowly turned the young Inspector on his back. With a heavily guarded expression, he placed a hand on Steve's chest, his findings turning those deep brown eyes somber.
"He feels cold, Mike."
"Of course, he feels cold! It's freezing out here and he's just in his suit."
Unwilling to trust the Armenian detective's assessment, Mike leaned down to place his ear close to Steve's face, hoping to hear a breath escape.
Off in the distance, he could see people gathering in clusters to watch them with great interest, some pointing at their position, their whispers drowned out by the wailing of approaching sirens.
"No Mike, he feels cold."
The voice was nearly drowned out by the noise of wood creaking in protest somewhere behind them, as an uncomfortable heat filled the area, threating to singe his clothes.
Too determined to revive his partner, Mike ignored it and focused back on the still form below.
"He's gone into shock, Norm, we gotta hurry.", the Lieutenant barked and tilted Steve's head back, "Open his shirt. He's not breathing. We gotta do CPR to start him up again."
"Mike."
"Do I need to make this an order, Sergeant?!"
With trained precision, Mike slid one finger behind the knot of the checkered tie to pull it open in a hurry, flinching at the cold skin radiating through the thin fabric of Steve's dress shirt, his chest below feeling rigid to the touch.
As his sense of reason was coming to a dreadful conclusion his heart couldn't handle, he felt an unnatural warmth building up on his face, his blood pressure rising dangerously high, as he ripped his partner's shirt open in futile despair.
Mike's ear felt hot against Steve's chest as he leaned over to listen for a heartbeat, his right hand on the young Inspector's stomach to detect the slightest breathing movement.
And suddenly, much to his surprise, he heard a throbbing.
Temporarily startled, Mike froze in his spot, growing concerned when the heartbeat disappeared for a moment, and then returned at an irregular pace, impossible for a human heart to produce.
As his eyes fluttered open and the darkness of his bedroom greeted his tormented soul, Mike inhaled sharply, trying to slow his breathing. Running a shaky hand across his sweat-covered face, he groaned in defeat at the vivid images that continued to haunt him every single night, quickly robbing him of the last of his peace.
The nearby clock signaled that it was just after midnight, plenty more time for the nightmare to return and drive him into the abyss of utter panic and despair, insanity even.
Stuck in the heart-wrenching twilight of his worst fears coming true, Mike suddenly realized that the irregular heartbeat he'd heard was actually somebody frantically knocking on his front door.
