He was starting to understand why Alex had done what he did- a little more with each passing day.
From what Mike had told him about the personable detective, it was clear that Sabatino was a caring man, perhaps too caring to be in the job he was in.
Then again, Steve knew too well what all that entailed.
Over and over again, he envisioned Alex coming upon the scene of the Saunders' butchered bodies, blood covering the walls up to the ceiling, the terror of little Kevin's unknown whereabout mixed with the haunting premonition that the killer would do the same to the innocent little child if he didn't get to him in time.
Add in the insurmountable roadblocks somebody like Ethan Morris would put up to keep Alex from finding out the truth week after week might just be enough to drive somebody into a deep state of depression- or worse.
Perhaps, in his last few days, Sabatino had finally grown tired of the uphill battle, figuring that after devoting every waking hour of his day to find little Kevin, his efforts would be in vain in the end.
It was a terribly sobering notion, one that could easily nullify years of prior successes, especially when looking at the last picture of Kevin Saunders alive, seeing the confusion written all over the small boy's face as he walked off with his killer, sensing his fear, knowing there was nothing he could do to fight the outcome, nobody left alive to try to save him.
Steve swallowed hard and rolled to the other side of his bed, trying to ignore the rogue tear running down the side of his cheek as he fought the demons that had come to visit him early that morning.
Deep within, fury was beginning to bubble to the surface; seeing Morris's arrogant face forced into his space, the Captain's ridiculous notion that Carl would have anything to do with it despite knowing better.
Wasn't there anybody in that department able to put two and two together, then try to do the right thing? What ever happened to the pledge they all took before taking on every challenge that came with that badge in his pocket?
What was going on down in Burlingame that allowed for things to derail to such an extent?
His growing frustration mixed with the grief about finding little Kevin's body rose to new heights and Steve ran a hand across his face, trying to drown out the emotions that threatened to put him into that dark, unforgiving place Alex must have found himself in.
The image of the exposed skull was burnt into his memory, upsetting his stomach and making his heart race all over again. The sheer thought of what type of monster it took to do this to an innocent child threatened to put him over the edge tonight, forcing him to find consolation somewhere beside his bed.
But there was one difference, one distinctive advantage they had over Morris that Alex didn't, his exhausted mind recalled.
Mike.
He had Mike by his side; a man who shared the same passion and bullheadedness when it came to killers and cops breaking the law; a man who would protect him with everything he had, even his own life; a man he didn't need to be afraid to confide in if things ended up becoming too much to bear.
This wasn't just Alex against the Burlingame PD and everyone else involved in this horrible case. It was Mike and Steve and the entire staff at the Hall of Justice against a handful of crooked killers who'd never see the light of day again once convicted.
In the end, Alex's death might have raised a stronger resistance than Morris and Mears could have ever feared possible.
And, by mid-morning, Bernie's autopsy would be complete, hopefully giving them a solid start into building a case against the Homicide Captain and his brother-in-law.
Finally able to relax somewhat, Steve managed to fall asleep for a few precious moments.