"What in the world are you still doing here? They told you a couple hours ago to go home. Now they called me to drag you out of here."
Hidden deep within Devitt's cantankerous outburst that filled the otherwise empty halls of the ER waiting area was an unmistakable level of respect and admiration that only somebody who knew the Lieutenant of Homicide would be able to discern, and appreciate.
Straightening back out from resting his forehead on his palms for the past hour or so, Steve blinked at Roy a few times, waiting for his blurry vision to adjust, before smiling wearily.
"Feels to me like six hours ago we argued about me staying here and now we're arguing about me leaving this place."
With a grunt, Devitt handed over a styrofoam cup steaming with fresh coffee, then drinking a sip out of his own before sitting down next to Steve, his blue eyes staring straight ahead.
"Seems to me you're picking up too many of Mike's shenanigans. It's enough to have one of those in the department, I don't need two troublemakers. They just stitched you back together, you should get some rest and take those happy pills the doctor gave you. There's nothing you can do for Mike out in these halls. I know it seems sentimental and all, but you're not doing yourself any favors here. Or him."
Steve clenched his jaws, his exhausted mind incapable of a witty answer after a day gone haywire. Even the fact that Milan's physical had come back reasonably normal besides severe bruising from the repeated rapes and a dire need for a shower did little to assuage a distinct feeling of failure when it came to the entire case.
Failure in the police department and the academy, for not identifying and weeding out the bad apples long before the damage could occur, thus renewing public misgivings about the abuse of power and corruption going on beneath that thin blue line.
Failure to heed their sense of caution, being misled by overconfidence when it came to reading Cassidy's group and not considering Davis a suspect more than they had, a flaw in their logic that could have turned fatal under any other circumstance.
Failure in his inability to open the cuffs fast enough, needing Mike's gentle reassurances to get his nerves under control when he needed a cool head more than ever before. It cost them valuable time that could have prevented Cassidy, Sawyer and Mahoney from being killed and Mike from being seriously wounded.
But instead, things had turned into an out-of-control fiasco endangering their lives more than once and allowing Davis to stand trial without the testimony of the other three men of his group to poke holes into the lies he'd undoubtedly create to save his skin.
The only exception so far was Floyd Madison, man number five, the insecure young detective pressured into this whole mess by his peers, used as a convenient decoy to cover up the trips up north, the rest of the department aghast when Roy's team entered the Missing Person's bullpen to have him arrested and charged.
Yet, it quickly became obvious that Davis had kept him conveniently far away from the action, far enough to avoid Madison from turning into a prime witness to anything but the attack at GiGi Visari's apartment.
It also put the young detective's pleas that he wasn't told about the plan to kill Visari until they arrived at the apartment up against the prosecutor's office's overwhelming mountain of evidence, a mere snowflake in a volcano of departmental misconduct being put under the microscope from every angle imaginable.
Without the other three guys around to speak up for him and shed light on the situation, it left the young detective to face charges of accessory to Visari's murder, assault on a police officer and the standard dishonorable discharge from the police force; all due to lack of supporting evidence that Davis gave the orders, a pivotal factor for a more lenient charge.
Madison's ignorance to some of the atrocities committed was a fact they all knew, and yet nobody was able to prove without reasonable doubt.
Then there was the ensuing IA mess.
He'd barely had enough time to change into fresh clothes when Lieutenant Baker from IA greeted him in the ER, inquiring about the earliest possible convenience to have a one-on-one interview with both, he and Mike to quote, get the paperwork started.
Steve had prepared for a lengthy explanation of the fact that his partner was currently being prepared for emergency surgery and that he himself had left a few pints of blood on some godforsaken hillside north of San Francisco when Roy stepped in, forcing any investigation out at least four days until all evidence had been gathered, the lab done its job and everyone involved had a chance to recover, including Davis who would end up losing his leg below the knee.
Heck, whether it seemed cynical or not, a missing leg and a life sentence didn't seem adequate enough for the horrors he committed and the gaping holes his actions had left in the community.
Sipping on the coffee and cocking his head in gratitude of the kind gesture, he took a deep breath, cherishing Roy's comradery and the common bond they shared when it came to their concerns about a certain Lieutenant.
"I became…worried when he wasn't acting like himself out there. It seemed like…like he wasn't himself at all. I've never seen him like that, Roy. It scared me."
Devitt waited until a nurse passing them by was out of earshot, before clearing his throat, never glancing over.
"Well, you know what the doctor said. He's got an onset of peritonitis where the bullet nicked part of his intestine. That's very serious. He was probably hallucinating about something, just lying there, getting more miserable by the minute while we were trying to find him. I'll make a point of it to remind him that he's getting too old to stop bullets. Scares the daylights out of more than just you, trust me. What a mess."
Both men chuckled quietly at the irony, and the ill-tempered answer that such a request would be rewarded with, before falling quiet again.
And quiet they stayed for many long moments, before Roy reached over to tap his knee.
"Come on, Stephen, baby, we gotta get you home. Aren't you due to have a new lady friend to keep you company, nurse you back to health for a couple of days? I don't mind babysitting but resources are strained to the max while we restructure the entire Missing Person's Department, not to mention all the IA clowns browsing through the building and giving me the creeps…And now I have my two prime homicide detectives out, so I'm ready to hit up the streets again myself if this continues."
"I don't need babysitting…", Steve countered sharply, just to see Roy finally turn around to face him.
"Then do as you're told. Mike's out of surgery, the doctor said he won't be coming around until tomorrow. You're off duty for at least two days and after that it's my discretion on what you will and won't be doing, so don't forget about that. Take some time off, check on your partner tomorrow, for god's sake keep those cuts clean and let that mess heal. That looked horrible. Once you're both back in…working order…we'll discuss IA and wrap up this case. Davis isn't going anywhere until formal charges have been filed, so I am in no hurry, matter of fact I enjoy making that son of a bitch wait anxiously. There's gonna be a lot more of that where he's headed when the department's done with him."
Devitt stopped himself when his voice reached an unnaturally high pitch, then shook his head as he too tried to come to terms with the events of the past few days. As he took another sip of coffee, his hand shaking slightly, the Lieutenant reached for a cigarette before remembering his surroundings and put it back into his breast pocket.
"Just…just trust me that Mike's gonna be ok, Stephen. He's a tough nut to crack, he just needs a few days to recover, sort his thoughts out. He'll be fine."
When he noticed his superior's trembling voice, signs of Roy's stoic façade cracking under the immense strain, Steve managed a faint smile, then pointed toward the exit.
"You said you wanted me to rest? I won't be able to sleep after what happened today. Matter of fact, I feel like a beer to get some of those sounds and images…and smells out of my head. Care to join me? My treat. It's the least I can do for you coming to our rescue…literally and figuratively."
With a loud chuckle, Devitt reached over to put an arm across his shoulders, mimicking Mike's characteristic move that helped put his mind a little more at ease on a difficult day.
"If I am perfectly honest, I've been toying with the idea myself. Let's get the hell out of here and have a beer or two, kiddo. It's been a heck of a day. This Mike Stone character can be tough on our nerves, can't he?"