"Mike…" Steve breathed as he felt his knees buckle and Kendall's hand on his arm tighten. He tried to move towards his injured partner but the undercover Vice cop held him back, the flashlight beams illuminating the small closet as Watson knelt and bent over the still unmoving lieutenant.
Hesitating for a beat as if unsure what to do so as not to aggravate any other injuries the older man might have already suffered, but knowing he had to do something, Watson leaned closer, shining the strong beam of light on the floor, allowing it to bounce off the light-coloured walls. He put his free hand on the lieutenant's shoulder, shaking him slightly as he whispered, "Mike…", as if afraid of what he was going to find.
Almost immediately, the injured man's head moved slightly and his eyes opened. He moaned. Kendall felt Steve stagger a bit and he tightened his grip again as the young inspector took an unsteady step forward and tried to lean over his partner.
"Mike…?"
Moving quickly, Watson put the flashlight on the floor beside him as Kendall's beam took its place. Watson reached behind the lieutenant's head, his anxious fingers finding the knot at the back of the cloth gag, and pulled at the material until he felt it loosen. "We've got you, Mike, you're gonna be okay…." he said quietly, watching as the blue eyes, blinking slowly, stared at the light bouncing off the wall in front of them. The gag undone, he very gently reached for the material in the lieutenant's mouth and carefully pulled it out. The older man began to cough and Watson quickly reached out to put both hands on Mike's shoulders, helping him up into a sitting position to lean, hands bound behind him, against the doorframe.
His head down, eyes squeezed shut, his entire body shaking as he struggled to control the coughing, Mike leaned forward, supported by Watson's strong hands. Pain-laced moans replaced the coughs as Steve, defying Kendall's strong restraining grip on his left arm, started to sink slowly to his knees, trying not to groan in pain himself. Safely down, he reached out and laid his hand on his partner's shoulder and squeezed, holding him steady.
On his knees, Watson carefully leaned around the slightly doubled-over lieutenant and tried to get a grip on the twine binding the older man's right wrist around the cast on his left forearm. He got his fingers on the knot but it was too tight to work open from his awkward position and, dropping the flashlight and straightening up slightly, he reached into his pants pocket and slid out a small pocketknife.
He opened the knife, repositioned the flashlight so he could see what he was doing, then cut the twine and pulled it free. Very carefully, Steve helped him bring Mike's arms, which they surmised were probably numb at the moment, around in front of him, as the older man swayed, moaning in pain, his chin dropping to his chest. Keeping a steadying hand on the back of the lieutenant's neck in support, Watson held onto him until he was sure Mike wasn't going to collapse.
He picked up the flashlight and, aiming it at the lieutenant's chest and not directly into his face, tried to assess the older man's injuries. Mike raised his head slightly and the Vice cop smiled. "Hey there, Lieutenant, it's Jake Watson." He gripped Mike's shoulder encouragingly. "Alex and Steve and I are here. We're got you now, you're gonna be okay…"
Mike blinked slowly a couple of times and his eyes widened slightly. "Steve…?" he mumbled.
"I'm right here, Mike," his partner said quietly, trying not to let his discomfort show in his voice. He raised his left hand to rest it against Mike's cheek, watching the blue eyes turn towards him, hoping that, in his present condition and in the semi-dark, the older man wouldn't notice his battered and bleeding face.
Watson had shone his flashlight beam on the left side of Mike's head, trying to locate the exact location of the injury concealed by the blood-matted hair. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"
Mike seemed to think about it for a second, his eyes drifting away from his partner, and he shook his head slightly, catching his breath and groaning. "I don't think so…" he breathed.
Watson looked up at Kendall and nodded. The black undercover cop nodded in return. "I'll be right back." He patted Steve on the shoulder before he turned and headed out of the room, moving as fast as he could in the pitch black, the flashlight beam bouncing in front of him as he started down the stairs.
Watson looked back at the lieutenant then the inspector. "I just want to check on our… detainees. You two gonna be okay here for a few seconds?"
Mike, who was looking down, his eyes closed, nodded slowly. Steve, with a soft chuckle that was more relief than amusement, turned slowly to lean against the wall, gritting his teeth as he reached out and slipped his left arm around his partners shoulders, gently pulling him a little closer in an attempt to steady and secure them both.
Watson smiled as he got slowly to his feet. "Ah, it's gonna get very dark in here for a bit."
Steve looked up but he wasn't smiling. "We'll be okay…"
The Vice cop turned and stepped out into the hallway. They could hear him talking quietly, obviously reminding the restrained siblings that he was armed and they were cuffed.
Steve felt his partner's face turn in his direction. "What's happening?" Mike asked softly, still in obvious pain.
Squeezing Mike's shoulder tighter, he said softly, "I'll tell you later…. Let's just get out of here first, okay…?" He could sense the older man nod slowly and a soft gasp of discomfort, then felt the gentle and welcome pressure of his partner's head against his shoulder. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the various parts of his body crying out for attention.
Two beams of light came back in through the door and Watson knelt down in front of them again. "I found her flashlight," he said with a chuckle as he handed it to Steve, clocking the tableau in front of him with a warm smile.
There was the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs and Kendall and his beam of light hurried into the room. "Back-up and an ambulance are on their way," he announced.
Mike raised his head slightly. "I don't need an -"
"Oh, yeah, you do," Watson cut him off with a short laugh, well aware of the vaunted detective's legendary stubbornness.
Kendall chuckled as well. "Are you guys all right here? I need to go back down and let everybody in." He took a step towards the door, stopped and spun back. "No lights in the building?"
Both undercover cops looked at Steve, who shook his head. "No. They borrow some downstairs from Gino's next door during the day," he explained through clenched teeth, hoping his partner didn't notice his discomfort or his slightly slurred speech from the swollen lip.
"Humh," Kendall harrumphed. "Yeah, well, it's closed…. Okay. Well, I told them to bring flashlights…" He started for the door again.
"Ah, there's one under the couch in the other bedroom," Steve called after him and Kendall hesitated for a beat before disappearing.
"Great, thanks." They could hear him stop then, after a couple of beats, shout, "Found it!" before he continued down the stairs.
Watson had been surreptitiously running the beam of his flashlight over the lieutenant, his head once more against his partner's shoulder and his eyes closed, trying to confirm that the head wound was the only visible injury. The light played over the cast and he caught his breath. "Yikes," he said quietly, his eyes snapping up to Steve, who had looked down.
There was a large dent in the side of the cast at the wrist, pieces of broken plaster hanging from the threads of the cotton sleeve that had been partially shredded. It was obvious to both men that whatever had connected with the lieutenant's head had, thankfully, hit the cast first; the defensive action had most probably saved his life.
"Mike, is your wrist okay?" Watson asked, touching the older man's left upper arm to get his attention.
Without opening his eyes, Mike nodded, and Steve and Watson exchanged a wide-eyed and dubious look. "Just my head hurts," he said quietly.
With a soft sigh, knowing he had done all he could for the moment, Watson sat on the floor in front of the two injured homicide detectives, and put his flashlight on the carpet, the beam bouncing off the closet door, partially illuminating their small section of the room without being intrusive. Steve put his flashlight down on the floor beside him, trying not let the throbbing pain in his face and torso get the better of him at the moment. He wanted to make sure Mike was looked after first, and he knew if the older man realized his partner was in physical distress, he would resist medical attention until the younger man was taken care of.
After a few long beats of silence, Mike raised his head slightly. "Who hit me?" he asked softly.
In the faint light, Steve flashed a quick look at Watson, who raised his eyebrows. "Ah, Carol," he answered tentatively, and felt the older man freeze momentarily.
"Carol…?" His voice sounded a little stronger, the other two thought encouragingly.
"Ah, yeah," Steve continued slowly, "it, ah, it turns out she's Benjamin Sykes' sister."
There was a brief pause. "His sister?"
"Yeah… we got the FBI report…" Steve clenched his teeth, fighting off a wave of pain from the ribs that had collided with the kitchen doorframe.
Mike didn't seem to notice; he was silent for a few beats, as if processing what he was being told. "How did you get in?" He sounded very confused.
Steve tightened his grip on his partner's shoulder. "I'll tell you all about that later, after we get you looked at. Okay?"
Mike nodded softly, uncharacteristically not putting up a fight, and laid his head against the younger man's shoulder again. "What did she hit me with?" he mumbled.
"Ah, I'm not sure… but I think it was one of the legs from the desks you and Neil were working on…" Steve sounded almost apologetic.
Surprisingly, he heard Mike chuckle softly and felt him shake a tiny bit. "That seems appropriate…" The older man swallowed heavily and took a deep, pain-filled breath. "I found the baseball bat…"
"I know," Steve replied quietly, tightening his grip on his partner's shoulder.
"She could have killed me…" Mike's voice sounded far away.
"I know," the younger man repeated in a whisper, pulling his partner a little closer.
