Part Two
Slamming the door behind him, Mick stepped out of the station and was greeted by a strong gush of wind. It caught his tie, whipping it around, trying to rip it off him.
He didn't bother straightening it out
Rachel, Jack and whoever they had found in the Harbour this morning.. How many more would die because he wasn't paying attention?
God, what a mess. Whatever he did, he seemed to screw up things even worse.
"Mick."
He glanced up to see Alex standing a few feet away.
"Frank called," she said, and he couldn't read her face. Last night, for the briefest second, he thought he'd glanced into her soul. Now she seemed more distant than ever.
Last night.. Last night had been wonderful, pretending like they had met for the first time, that there wasn't a trail of blood in their wake.
And now last night had a bitter taste in his mouth.
"They found another body."
"Yeah."
Neither spoke, as the wind dashed around them, constantly changing direction. The sea was at an uproar, waves trashing against the shore.
"Who was she?" Alex finally asked.
"Dunno."
"I'm going back there tonight."
"It could be bloody dangerous, Alex."
"You have a better idea?"
"No," he admitted. "But it shouldn't be you going."
"I owe it to Jack."
"No. I owe it." At the tone of his voice, she looked up. There was something strained in it, and even as she looked he seemed to be fighting some inner war.
"It's my fault," he suddenly whispered.
"Mick..."
"No. It is. When Rachel was killed, I was supposed to be there. They called me, but... My cell phone was turned off. And Jack... Jack was covering for me. I knew it was Agi. It would have ruined my career, so he... he..." Mick finished off feebly. For a brief second he felt relieved beyond reason, finally he had said it. Then he glanced over at Alex.
She stood completely still, her face not radiating any emotion at all. Anger he could have dealt with. Anything but this cold, even face.
"Get the hell away from me, Michael," she said, her voice free of any emotion at all. It was nothing but clear, no anger, no resentment, and no trace of warmth.
"Alex…" He lifted a hand to reach out and touch her, but she stepped away.
"Don't touch me." Still that even, crystal clear voice that cut into his heart like glass.
This is how Rachel Goldstein felt the voice said evenly.
Are you done punishing yourself? his heart whispered.
No.He turned and walked away slowly, hoping beyond hope that she would call out after him.
She didn't.
II
Night fell, and the city light up. People hurried through the light rain, some going home, some going anywhere but home.
And at The Fudged Off, it was business like any other night.
The music was drumming away as Alex entered, drowning out any other sound. She plastered on a smile as she entered, trying to look upbeat and ready for a party.
She was failing miserably.
Damn you, damn you, damn you Michael Reilly!
A couple of guys were smiling at her, but her own smile faltered and she had to take a deep breath not to run out. Why the hell had she come here?
We're finding Sophie's killer her mind reminded her. That's what Jack would have been doing. Ignoring all superiors and plunging ahead. Just as he had done when he had gone after Agi. Protecting bloody Mick.
"You look like you could need a friend," a deep voice said by her ear, and she glanced up at a tall, heavily built man. He was flashing a perfect smile, and his deep green eyes were reflecting that smile. He looked oddly familiar.
"Bad day?" he continued. She nodded, her mind racing. Where had she seen him before?
"Need some comfort?" the man smiled. "I'm Jan. I own this place."
II
Mick fell onto his couch, not even bothering to take his jacket off. He'd managed to stuff up the only good thing in his life, bloody fucking great. Not that he could blame her. He didn't deserve her.
He'd ruined it all. His life, his career, his relationship… relationships. He should just pack up and get the hell out of town before anyone else got hurt.
Coward, his mind whispered.
"Shut up!" he hissed, "Shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" Reaching out for the nearest object, his hands closed on a beer mug and he threw it at the wall with all the strength he could muster.
It shattered into a thousand pieces.
Breathing hard, he stared at his hands where blood from small cuts began to drip. How fitting. A few drops fell to the carpet, staining, but he didn't care.
He fell back on the couch, all strength suddenly leaving his limps. He felt tired, so very tired, and more than anything he wanted to rest with Alex in his arms, feeling her hair tickle his skin. Like they had done on the Footloose.
Go to her then, you idiot
Shut up! his guilty voice answered.
You know where she is
You know she don't want you
Go
Stay
II
A few drinks later, Alex St. Clare found herself being guided into Jan's second floor office. She felt strangely light-headed, and to her surprise, she seemed to be giggling.
"See, I told you I would make you feel better."
She almost fell as she stumbled into his office, the door closing behind them sounding strangely like a tomb being closed. Her instincts suddenly screamed at her. The door was soundproof.
Shit her mind said, but even that felt distant. Had he put something in her drink?
"How about you make me feel better?" his voice whispered as his hands closed around her waist and began lifting her shirt.
"No..."
"You tease me. I know you want it." His voice had taken on a harder edge now, and she opened her purse to reach for her gun. She never got that far.
A powerful arm caught her hand, even as the punch came at her. She heard the sickening sound of flesh being hit before the pain kicked in with such force she literally saw stars.
She fell backwards, her arm still locked, fingers digging into her soft underarm. She kicked out blindly, hitting something, but her attacker didn't budge.
The floor kicked the breath out of her, and before she could even regain it, he was over her. Her arms were locked to her side as he pressed her down, and a hand grabbed her hair painfully hard.
"Bitch!" he spat at her, his other hand wandering inside her shirt.
She twisted violently under him, finally able to bring up a knee and force into his crotch. He groaned, letting go for just a second.
It was all she needed. Twisting free, she lunged for her gun. Her fingers closed on it just as he grabbed hold of her feet, pulling her back. She kicked back with her heel even as she span around and fired.
He groaned again, but before she could fire again his fingers closed around hers and the gun was wrestled from her.
A powerful knee locked her hands and she wanted to scream as his hand wandered down, tearing off her skirt. A hand closed over her mouth, and she bit him. He cursed, and another slap came at her.
Her cheeks burned, and she could taste blood on her lips. He was ripping at her shirt now, and she could feel her body steel itself for what had to be coming.
A funny expression suddenly came over his face, and he made a sound much like a balloon when the air comes out of it. Then he toppled over, and she saw Mick standing behind, holding his gun.
"Mick!" To her horror, she felt tears form in her eyes. She twisted away from the unconscious Jan, seeing the wound where Mick had hit him over the head.
"Are you okay?" Mick breathed, dropping his gun to the floor. She nodded, but even as she did, her body began to shake uncontrollably. He immediately took his jacket off, wrapping her in it.
"I'm sorry," he whispered in her hair, before taking his cell and calling the station. She watched him passively, tears running down her cheeks but no sound escaping her.
Revenge was accomplished.
Sophie was gone. Jack was gone.
And she had never felt so empty in her life.
II
The night was about to end as the moon began to fade and the stars would soon be slowly fading as the sky turned from black into the illusion of being blue. But beyond the blue, there would still be the real, dark sky.
And eventually, morning would come, but that was still hours away.
Alex finally emerged from the Water Police HQ, taking in the fresh air of the sea in deep breaths. She felt drained, having been first medically examined, then question, and finally getting a talk from Frank, who hadn't exactly been happy with her.
And Mick had been hovering in the background, never more than a few feet away, but never really reaching out.
As she walked onto the pier to watch the rising of the sun, she heard the boat come in
Emma took a deep breath as she stepped off the Harpy. Her eye caught sight of Alex standing on the pier alone. It would be a nice gesture to see how she is.
Nice gesture, who was she kidding? She wanted to make peace. To get forgiveness for horrible things she'd said that day in the hospital. That wasn't really her. It wasn't.
Sure it wasn't Emma, don't be so damn naïve. She cursed the voice in her head and dumped her bag on the wharf and slowly walked over to Alex.
"I'm sorry." She still stood about 10 metres away. Alex looked up at her briefly. "I didn't mean those things." She took another step closer and this time when Alex looked up she held the gaze.
"I know…" Alex's voice was soft and lost in the light breeze. "It's okay." And she smiled across at Emma, who was being beckoned by George not far away.
Emma took several more steps toward her and smiled back.
"I hope you can be happy. I really do." And the honest smile said it all. She really meant it. Even if Mick still plagued the back of her mind she was able to wish them both well. Which told Alex that Emma was the bigger person, God knows that she couldn't do the same.
The smile faded as she watched Emma jog toward George and she was lost again by the harbour.
A few minutes later, she heard the faint cracking of an opening door, and knew it to be Mick. But he didn't join her on the pier. Instead he just stood there, watching her intently.
Mick didn't look up a few minutes later when Frank came walking out as well.
"Jan has confessed," Frank said lightly, "No thanks to you and your partners foolish scheme. Tommy and George were onto him already. She could have been killed, mate."
"I know."
"Do you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Mick shot back.
"Who were you avenging? Sophie? Or Jack?"
"Jack was protecting me. I knew about Agi," Mick said dully, looking away from where Alex was standing and down at his shoes.
"What do you want to hear, Reilly? You screwed up. You're god damn lucky IA hasn't pursued this. That doesn't make you a killer. Agi pulled that trigger, and Jack chose to cover your ass. Your screw-up, yes, but your fault? No," Frank said forcefully. "Your bloody need to punish yourself almost cost you another partner. So get over yourself Michael Reilly. Face the ghosts at night, not at daytime."
Mick stood perfectly still for a few seconds, his mind racing. Finally he looked up.
"You're definitely the next Jeff Hawker."
"Hah!" Frank replied, but his face softened. "Look, mate...It's not like I haven't been there."
They stood silent a while, Mick's glance wandering to the end of the pier where Alex stood again.
"Go to her," Frank urged quietly.
"She doesn't want me."
"You're an idiot," Frank declared, making Mick look up in astonishment.
"You're not responsible for Jack's death, just as you weren't responsible for Rachel's. So bloody well stop feeling sorry for yourself already and go kiss her. She needs you."
"I'm afraid she would have chosen Jack over me."
Frank smiled briefly. "You wouldn't be the first that happened to."
"Rachel?"
"Yeah."
"But she didn't," Mick said quietly. "Jack.. He told one drunken night what her last words had been."
Frank tried to breathe and found he couldn't. A part of him screamed not to listen, but he had to. Had to know.
"She said your name," Mick finished. "Jack never got over it, not really."
"My name?" It was barely audible at all, and he wasn't even sure Mick had heard.
"Jack had her diary. Maybe Sophie…" Mick shrugged, his gaze moving once again to the pier where Alex stood, her shoulders slumped and her whole body language radiating grief. He couldn't help himself, he began walking towards her even before realising he'd decided to.
She didn't look up as he approached, desperately trying to maintain some kind of composure. He stopped a few feet away, not really looking at her at all.
"Want a ride home?" he asked casually, his heart racing. If she said no.. She was silent so long he had almost began to walk away.
"Yeah," she whispered.
II
"Beer?" George placed his hand gently on the back of her neck as she nodded. "Tommy, Gavin and everyone are already there." They started walking slowly and her hand slipped into his and they fell into step.
She stopped suddenly and they faced one another.
"Is this a good idea?" He looked slightly confused. "Us. This"
He shrugged.
"Probably not, but…" he shrugged again. "Let's just see huh?" He smiled.
Emma bit her lip as she looked up at him. His smile, ohhh… It wasn't a good idea, but then what was? It was better than being miserable by herself. And he could keep her safe for a while.
A memory of her and Mick slipped into her mind.
"So, if we can be friends, that'd be good and if we can't, then, we'll have to find another way to work together."
Peace had been made with Alex… but for Mick it was going to be a little – hell, a lot - harder. It'd happen… one day…
She slid her arm around George's waist, and for now decided to be happy.
II
When Helen walked into Jeff's - Frank's - office a little time later, he looked so lost in thought she had to knock three times.
"Helen.."
"You okay, Frank?"
"Yeah.."
"Where is everyone?"
"Probably getting pissed. It's been a long night," he sighed, rubbing his temples. "I could use a good stiff drink myself. Did Hawker hide any booze in this office at all?"
"Ask him yourself. He's here."
"Oh bugger," Frank muttered, glancing at the fish tank. No, they were all still alive, thank God. He didn't dare consider the consequences of killing one of Jeff's fish. They were likely to be.. Nasty
"I heard that, Holloway," Jeff declared, entering. He was still dragging his one leg, but the cane was gone. He immediately glanced over at the fish tank – no, they were all alive still.
And Frank Holloway was looking comfortable in his chair. In a very strange and twisted way, it seemed.. Fitting.
II
Mick hadn't been at Alex's place in ages. It looked pretty much the same, the TV Week was still old and some of the dishes in the sink look like they were hosting new life forms. It almost looked worse than his place, except he had many more empty bottles scattered around.
"I don't have much food…"
"We could order a pizza," he suggested.
"Yeah."
But neither moved towards the phone. It suddenly seemed so hard to reach out, to cross the distance.
"I need a shower," Alex suddenly said, shivering as she said it. The memory Jan's hands on her body suddenly came to her, and she had to fight an urge to throw up. Without looking at Mick, she practically ran to the bathroom.
Taking several deep breaths, she tore her clothes off and turned the water on as hot as she could. She gasped as she stepped into the running water, washing away the pain, the guilt, and the blood. Except it wouldn't really, but she could pretend.
"Alex..."
Oh God, she hated him for the soft way he would say her name.
"I'm so sorry."
It would have been so easy to push him away, so easy to tell him she blamed him and would never forgive him, so easy to just hate him. So easy, and yet so hard.
"I know," she whispered, turning around to look at him. He was standing in the doorway, his eyes downcast and whole manner so different from the cheerful and smiling guy she had met so long ago.
There is darkness even in the sunshine.
"I need..." she bit her lip. "I need... Someone to wash my back." Holding out the soap, she waited until he finally looked up. For the longest time he just looked at her, then finally, he took the soap.
Without bothering to get undressed, he stepped into the shower. Pulling him to her, their mouths locked in a fiery kiss and the water quickly soaked him. He couldn't care less, and they were discarded into a pile on the floor soon enough.
"You're so beautiful, Alex," he muttered, letting a finger trace her jaw line.
"You're not so bad yourself, Michael Reilly," she replied, pushing away the memory of Jan. He couldn't harm her. And maybe Sophie and Jack could finally rest. Maybe.
It's you who won't let them rest her mind whispered. Letting them go is not betraying them.
Yes, yes it is! She screamed back silently, the ball of grief and guilt and pain in her chest expanding painfully. She clung to Mick, digging her fingernails into his back as he lifted her up. Throwing her head back, she let all the emotions wash over her, grief, anger, hurt, guilt and desire until she felt so devastated it was almost good and she could finally let go..
And then there was only desire, and a warm feeling in her chest she'd thought she'd never feel again. Opening her eyes, she focused on Mick's face.
I'll never let you down, Mick vowed silently. Somehow, I'll make it all right.
We'll see about that his guilt answered, almost snickering.
But he didn't listen, as he let his own tears mix with Alex's and be washed away.
The soap fell unnoticed to the floor.
II
There was hardly anything left of the night as Frank staggered into his house. He was supposed to be at the Station in a few hours, but he suspected a lot of people would be somewhat late. He had almost stopped by the Cutter bar, but the laughter from inside had stopped him dead in his tracks.
Too many memories. And he was too tired.
He had however, observed George and Emma sneak out for a little tongue wrestling. It seemed most of the people at the Station wee getting some these days. Did the Chief Inspector get any sex at all? Maybe that was why Jeff had been so cranky all the time.
He kept pondering over that, not really because it interested him, but because it kept him from thinking about what Mick had said.
"She said your name."
He had to fight an urge to hit his head on the table. He had accepted the fact that Rachel was gone and he would never know. He really had.
"She said your name."
Didn't mean anything. Jack could have heard wrong. She had probably been delirious with pain, and.. He winced, an echo of the pain Rachel must have felt throbbing through his body."She said your name."
"Frank?"
He jumped, for the briefest second thinking it was her, it was Rachel.. Then he saw Helen's worried face.
"The door was opened," she explained, "I knocked but.."
When he just continued to stare at her, she reached into her handbag and handed him a book.
"I think you need to read it," she said steadily. He threw a glance at the book, than opened a random page and froze.
Rachel's handwriting.
"She kept a diary," Helen muttered when he looked up confused at her. After a few seconds something in his face seemed to melt.
"Thank you."
"See ya, Frank," she said softly, closing the door quietly behind her as she walked out. Frank sat in the silence for the longest time, just staring at the words, afraid of letting them become sentences. Afraid of what they would spell out.
As long as he didn't know, he could at least hope.
Finally, with a trembling hand, he flipped the book to the beginning and read.
He read and read, not even noticing the tears in his eyes as he went along. They were all there, all the things Rachel had felt, all the things they had experienced, and all the secrets she had kept from him.
It made him feel close to her, almost as if she was sitting on the couch and whispering all these things in his ear.
And finally, there it was. After two pages of cursing him for being such a stubborn idiot of a man, five little words stared up at him.
I think I love him.
The book fell from his hands, and he fell back against the cushions. Terrible, terrible relief and terrible, terrible grief flooded through him, almost worse than when Helen had called and told him. It felt like yesterday and a century ago at once.
"Will you let me go now?" Rachel whispered softly in his ear.
"Never," he replied, keeping his stare on the ceiling. After a few seconds he could feel his bones slowly turn to ice.
Rachel.
He turned very, very slowly, but of course, the seat next to him was empty. But it felt warm to touch, almost as if someone had been sitting there.
"Rachel?" he whispered. "Rachel? Rachel!"
The darkness gave no answers.
Morning finally broke through, and the sun rose, but the darkness stayed.
FIN