Please review. Since this is my first fanfic it would be really helpful. Thank you
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"I didn't put away the wrong man."
Robbie seethed. He felt as if everyone was against him, like he was the only sane person in the department. Why wasn't anyone listening to him? Hathaway had turned that statement over to the defence team and he knew what that meant: Lawrie was getting out. He felt betrayed, sure enough. Rationally, he knew that it was the proper, legal, thing to do. God knows he had many of these discussions he had with Morse, usually with Morse arguing with him just as he had with Hathaway. When had he become Morse? But, Hathaway. It felt like James didn't trust him, after all of their years together.
Right now, he had to think about Laura. Lawrie wasn't out yet, but it would only be a matter of time. That text message had sent a shiver up his spine and made his balls clench. And, when Lawrie had asked about Laura…he knew what Lawrie was playing at. Laura was right, Graham Lawrie was trying to drive him mad. But, he had threatened her. Can't they see how dangerous Lawrie is? He killed three, no four, coppers.
Lewis was going to go home and pack, and whether Laura liked it or not, he was getting her away. She will argue. She will most likely be angry with him. And when he insisted and got angry back, and he would if necessary if that meant she was safe, she would, what, leave him? He feared that more than anything, except for Lawrie coming after her. Leave him or not, she would be safe.
It was already dark when he parked in front of the home he shared with Laura. He felt as if he were looking at it for the first and last time. As if he was perched on the edge of something with a deep, lightless chasm below. Like everything was about to change. He went inside, dropped his keys on the table and hopped the stairs two at a time. When was the last time he had told her that he loved her? He dug around in his memories. Two nights before, when they had made love and she had held him tight against her and he had stroked her hair. He closed his eyes and remembered the feeling of her as she arched against him and he kissed her neck and whispered in her ear and softened their moans with his mouth over hers. He didn't say it often enough. He didn't. He was a man acting like a stereotypical man instead of saying it: that he loved her so very much. He didn't think that would ever happen again, but it had.
As he pulled Laura's suitcase down and laid it on their bed, he vowed to change that. If she would have anything to do with him after this, that is. No, he thought quickly, he will make it right. He will make sure she is safe and then he would make it right.
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Hathaway had looked for Robbie after he had turned the alibi statement over to Lawrie's solicitor. He wanted to talk with Robbie again and try to explain. His boss…not his boss, anymore…his colleague had been angry and upset when he had left. Hathaway had seen him like that before. He could remember the look of betrayal that flashed in his then boss's eyes when he had discovered James had lied to him about a case and how he had turned from him, walking away. That look was seared into James' mind and he saw it again, today. He had been worked up at the time, but now Hathaway wanted to wilt just thinking of that look and what it meant for them as colleagues. As partners. As friends. As family. As he thought of each step describing their relationship, James started to worry more, each level presenting problems in his mind. Robbie was his family, and that is what he feared the most. Losing that. Over a fucking piece of paper.
They had managed to clear things up, before, hadn't they, then? Sure, he had nearly died in a fire, but Robbie had come through, because that was Robbie Lewis. He always came through. He was always there. Solid. A rock. A passionate rock that had looked at him with the look of betrayal and disbelief that had bore into James' very existence. Then, a very much afraid rock as he read the text off the phone.
This felt different than before. Like an unravelling in their relationship. An unraveling of reality. Like he could just wake up tomorrow and it would be like old times and this would have been something that had never happened. Before Robbie left. Before his promotion. Before Lawrie. The two of them sitting at the pub, James drinking orange juice. James looked up to Robbie, no doubt. He was more than a friend, more than a mentor. Robbie Lewis had been a major part of Hathaway's life for a decade, now. He and Laura were his family. Robbie was, he admitted to himself, like a father. More like a father than his own. Yes, Robbie was solid, dependable, and always knew how to make sure James stayed straight on the path he had chosen. He needed to talk to him, desperately. James decided that since he couldn't find him, he would go talk to Laura.
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Robbie had taken off his dress shirt, socks and shoes and was debating whether to simply put on fresh clothes or hit the shower. He stood motionless for what seemed like an hour but, after looking at his watch, found it had only been minutes. He was stood at their bed, staring at it, recent memories flooding his mind and zipping through so fast he had trouble singling any one out. What was he doing, again? Yeah, shower or not? His undershirt was damp with fear-sweat and he decided on the shower.
He untucked his shirt from his trousers, reached for his belt buckle, and froze when he heard rustling from downstairs. He looked at the clock, 7:14pm. He took a deep breath and steadied himself against the argument to come. He hadn't decided on where he was taking her, yet. Lynn and family was in Australia, visiting Ken, which, he thought, was something he sorely needed to do himself. Why hadn't he done that? What was so important that he couldn't tear himself away to go see his son? It all seemed ridiculous, now. How unimportant all the things he would have sworn were most important in his life were. So meaningless. His family. Laura. He would do anything to keep her safe, and when he did, they would be okay. He would go see his daughter, and his son.
They would all spend time together away from Oxford. Away from the depths of depravity and murder that he thought was so much a part of him. He had to let that go, get that off of his soul, become human again. Be like all of those clueless blokes walking around with their families, sat in front of the telly. Almost like he had been before, but without the dark stain of his job seeping into everything he said and did. He tried to keep that away from Val, but after she had gone, he had stopped trying. He had embraced it, let it in, wallowed in it and becoming friends with it. It was a part of him, like an arm, and he couldn't see himself living without it. But, by god, he was going to try.
He turned to walk down the stairs to the sitting room and doubt started to cloud his thoughts. His stomach flipped. Did he actually think she would go with him? How was he going to say this? A thousand scenarios went through his head and he tried to pick the one he thought had the best chance of working. Did he really think he was going to get Laura to go away? Wishful thinking. He knew it was unlikely, but he would do his damn-level best. Wishful thinking was the only plan he had. He had just registered that the lights were still out downstairs when the blow to his head dropped him to his knees.
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Laura came out of the lab just in time to see James enter. She smiled. James smiled back, wearily. "Laura, do you have a few minutes?"
She smiled again and shrugged. "He's already come to see me James, trying to get me to take a holiday." She leaned against the sink, drying her hands. "He was upset with me, I'm afraid. He is really taking all of this badly." And why shouldn't he, she thought. The pressure on him has to be enormous.
Hathaway took a deep breath. "I'm afraid he's none too happy with me at the moment, either." He recounted what had happened. "I've," he started, then corrected himself, "We've known him a very long time. He is the best policeman I have known, and the most honest. I can't believe that he would intentionally do anything dishonest. Unless it were for a good reason." Hathaway wasn't even sure that was true. Robbie Lewis, breaking the rules for any reason? It didn't fit, but yet, it did, in his mind, and he was conflicted. What would Robbie Lewis do to protect his fellow policemen? Laura?
Laura nodded, "You know, you are Robbie are much more alike than you think." She thought briefly back to the young Detective Sergeant Lewis with the easy lop-sided smile. The only one willing to go against Morse. The only one Morse would listen to, and, even then, the stubborn Chief Inspector would grouse his way into eventual compliance with what he knew was right, what Robbie had insisted on. The check against Morse's sometimes-stilted balance. "This case was rough on all of us, especially Robbie."
"Laura, is it possible that Robbie…"
She cut him off. "No. I know what you want to ask and the answer is no. Lawrie is a psychopath. He is exactly where he belongs, however things look." She paused, thinking back to the x-ray she had showed him. The identical wound. She could remember the case before. How it had affected them all. Robbie, feeling responsible as he sat at the funerals. She looked at James, "You know, psychopaths have fans, especially the famous ones."
Hathaway nodded as a lab assistant entered. Laura patted his arm reassuringly. "I'm about to go home and we will talk. He'll come around, James. Maybe you both need to find some middle ground and talk, as well." James nodded. He would sit down with Robbie tomorrow, alone, and hash this out, think this out, figure this out. It was best they took a breath and let both their heads cool.
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Laura parked next to Robbie and shut off the engine. She had gotten take-away curries and a bottle of red wine. They loved just sitting and trading bites of food and drinking and talking about their day. It was the best time of her life. She was looking forward to the evening, but not to Robbie's worrying. They would talk that out first thing and get on with it. They would sit, eat, laugh, drink, love. She frowned at the dark house. All the lights were off. Robbie didn't generally go to bed early. She went to the door and tried the knob. Unlocked. That definitely wasn't like him; to go to bed with the door unlocked, especially in the current climate. Maybe he was sick or, sitting in the dark, drinking brandy, which would be even worse, and thoughts about what he might be doing zipped past her mind's eye. She began to feel cold and her scalp tickled. She knew something was wrong but couldn't stop herself from going into the darkness. She opened the door and turned on the lights. As she walked into the house she spotted a darkness on the floor. She frowned, turned on the table lamp, and gasped as she dropped the bag of food and the wine bottle shattered on the floor.
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Hathaway's mobile rang. He was tempted to ignore it as he stared at the paperwork on his desk. All hands were on deck at the station, and he couldn't focus on what tasks needed to be done to help solve this mess. Innocent was going around the floor, talking with everyone, trying to get a handle on the chaos. He looked at the caller's name on the phone screen. It rang again and he answered. "Dr. Hobson." He sat straight up when he heard her sob. She was trying to explain something through her tears. "Laura, calm down, tell me what's happening." He ran to the door and waved, and then snapped his fingers to get Innocent's attention as she talked with another officer. He heard Laura blow out a breath and try to slow her breathing. "James, I came home and Robbie's gone. There's blood, everywhere. His car is here but he's gone."
A biting cold gripped Hathaway's stomach and he nearly dropped the phone. "Ok, Laura, we are on the way, ok?" At Innocent's questioning glance he put the phone against his chest. "Something has happened to Robbie. He's gone and there's blood at their house." Innocent moved away to begin snapping orders. "All right, we will be there in just a few." He shouted at her too loudly, his heart pounding, breath coming in ragged gasps. He forced himself to be calm as he ran to his car.
"Please, James, hurry." She sobbed and dropped her hand from her ear without ending the call. She knew there was a lot of blood, and it was spattered and sprinkled and pooling all over the entry and the stairs. She had run upstairs and seen Robbie's shirt and shoes and the suitcase on the bed. No blood, no Robbie. She had then walked back to the stairs and looked down. Blood on the stairs, on the wall. A hand print, a smear. She stepped over the stains and try to calm herself and imagine she was at just another crime scene. She saw something in one of the darker pools of blood on the floor, a white piece of something stuck to the drying mess. She walked back to the door and nearly lost all ability to stand as she stared at the bone-white tooth laying in the blood.
Stay out of the crime scene, don't mess with the evidence. Be professional.
Fuck professional. She sat on the floor by the door and cried.