The Right Answer: "Hell to Pay" 10x18

Note: This takes place chronologically before "The World is Upside Down."

"Get out."

George started a little at the brusque command from Constable Davis. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Winton hesitate, just a little longer, looking at George out of the corner of his eye. George gave him an almost imperceptible nod. Go on. I can handle this. I'm the one who got caught in the first place, he thought miserably.

He heard the cell door creak open and close, felt the bunk sag a bit with Davis's extra weight. George held his chin in his hands, refusing to look Davis in the eye.

"First, let me say I understand the chain of command," Davis began. "I understand loyalty to a superior officer."

You really don't, I don't think, sir. If that were the case, I wouldn't be sitting here.

" And most importantly," Davis almost sounded like he believed what he was saying. But George knew him better. Davis was a remarkable liar. "I understand loyalty to a friend."

Friend.The word made George cringe. He'd gotten punched in the face by said 'friend' only the night before. But I'm still his friend. I understand why he did it. Frustratingly, his mind pointed out, But you can't do much for your friend sitting here, can you, George?

" Your Detective Murdoch is a lucky man."

George stared at the floor. "I don't see much lucky about his situation." The situation you and Graham have put him in. It should be you sitting in here.

"Ah, well, he put himself there," Davis said indifferently.

"I highly doubt that," George said darkly. Copping an attitude with Davis was perhaps not the best decision, but words were all he had to fight back with at the moment.

"Well, I'm not interested in your opinion," Davis informed him.

George kept his eyes on the floor. More's the pity. I'd like to give it to you with some physical punctuation. Detective Murdoch's voice filtered into his thoughts. You won't be able to help behind bars...and here you are...

With all due respect, Sir, bite your tongue. He didn't like his words being thrown back at him like that.

Davis continued, "What you need to be concerned with is your record." George tensed. Yet another part of my life I'm not thrilled with. He'd spent five months in the Don Jail, been demoted to constable third class. All because of a heat of the moment decision that had blown up in his face. A mistake that he'd spent the better part of two years trying to make up for. The way Detective Murdoch had looked at him in the interview room that night…he never wanted to be on the receiving end of that look ever again.

Davis, oblivious to the agony in his thoughts, continued to pile on the feeling of shame and embarrassment. "You have spent time in jail. Your career is limited as it is. If you don't cooperate with me, your career is over."

Cooperate with you. You must be joking. George couldn't sit there any longer, bolting up from the cot and moving to lean against the bars, still refusing to look Davis in the face. I won't give him the satisfaction.

"I don't give a damn." He didn't, either. If this was the end of Constable George Crabtree, all the better. At least he'd be dismissed protecting his friends. Doing the right thing. Upholding and defending the law. All the reasons he'd become a constable in the first place.

He heard the bunk creak as Davis stood. "Well I do. And I want answers!"

George never saw it coming. For the second time in less than 24 hours, he found himself on the receiving end of a punch from a superior officer. Not a superior officer, he thought as Davis send him reeling into the cell bars. He grabbed them to stay upright. Just a higher-ranking one. Davis flipped him around and shoved his forearm under his chin, forcing George's face up so he had no choice but to look at him.

"I know you two have been staying in contact," Davis hissed at him. "And I want you to bring him in."

George swallowed hard, a tough move with the arm pressing against his windpipe. He shook his head, his eyes boring into Davis's. "I won't do it."

Davis dropped his arm and George took a quick breath as Davis grabbed him by the lapels and slammed him into the cell bars. George's head cracked against one of them and he saw stars. Go on, Davis, he thought in a haze. Nothing you can do is going to turn me against my best friend.

"Answer me!" Davis roared in his face. "Give me the right answer!"

George was about to tell him what his right answer was when Davis's grip loosened suddenly and George slipped out of Davis's grip. Dizzily, he ducked out of the way as Inspector Brackenreid hauled Davis off of him. "Get off him, Davis!"

"Back off!" Davis ordered the Inspector. George stumbled out into the hall, holding the back of his head gingerly.

Brackenreid glared daggers at Davis. "Stay away from my man," Brackenreid barked. It felt good to hear him say that, George had to admit. He felt a little better, at least.

"I'm your superior," Davis reminded him.

Brackenreid shook his head. "I don't give a toss. Crabtree, get out. Now!"

That was one order George was more than happy to follow. He staggered out into the bullpen. Higgins-bless you, Higgins- spotted him and was by his side instantly. "Jackson! Ice!" Higgins ordered the bigger constable. He helped George to his desk chair and sat him down. "Jesus, George, are you all right? What happened?"

George shook his head. The movement hurt. He relayed the conversation to Henry, whose face darkened. "Bastard," Higgins hissed under his breath. Jackson returned with an ice pack and George held it gingerly to the knot on the back of his head as Higgins explained what had happened to Jackson. Gus Jackson swore. "As if he thought he'd turn you. Nobody's a better friend to the Detective than you, George," Jackson said adamantly.

George gave him a thin smile. "He's not the only good friend," he said quietly. "Thanks, lads."

Higgins nodded. "We've got your back." The three of them looked up as Inspector Brackenreid stormed into the main offices from the cell block, snapping his fingers at George to follow him into his office. George got up carefully and walked into his office. Brackenreid closed both doors and then looked at his constable. "You all right, Crabtree?"

George nodded. "Gettin' a little tired of being hit, sir," he admitted.

"What did Davis want with you?"

George repeated the conversation again, the tension returning to his shoulders and making his head throb. "He wanted me to give him the right answer," he explained. "That I would go arrest Detective Murdoch and bring him in, that he'd try to move me up in the ranks." Brackenreid muttered a few choice words under his breath. "I told him I wouldn't do it," George said. "I'd turn in my badge tonight for one chance to exonerate Detective Murdoch, sir!"

Brackenreid placed a hand on his shoulder. "That was the right answer, Bugalugs," he assured his man. There was a note of pride in his tone.

Author's Note: I'm sorry for all the "Hell to Pay" oneshots but there's just SO many good Crabtree moments in there. I've got a whole list of moments I want to write but my brain keeps coming back to 10x18. Sorry :) Also, yes, that's a "Down Periscope" reference in there if you spotted it :P