There's a lot of silence in these sessions, going at his pace Carol calls it.

Mickey's knee shudders, his foot tapping against the floor as he sits trying to work up the courage to speak.

He could talk about his argument with Jack.

But then that would mean talking about the forensics report.

And what Delaney made him do.

He doesn't want to tell anyone that.

Ever.

"I can prescribe some medication if you think it would help."

Mickey looks up sharply.

"You think I can't cope?"

"I think you're doing remarkably well, but it's a lot to deal with the sexual assault and then there's working in a new department-"

" Who's been talking about me?"

"Mickey, no one has been talking about you. It's common for people to be concerned when a colleague or a friend has been through-"

" What do they say then, these people?"

Another silence.

"Does it bother you, the thought of people talking about what happened to you?"

"It does when they don't have a clue what I'm going through yeah."

"You could try telling them."

Yeah right, and get it thrown back in his face.

"Wot so they can spread it all around the Met?"

"Why do you think they would spread it around?"

"Good gossip ain't it? They can all 'ave a laugh"

"Would anyone laugh if a female officer-"

"It ain't the same."

"Why?"

"You know why"

The air feels thick and heavy.

"I should have been able to stop him"


The medication she gives him makes him feel hollow inside.
He's a step behind the world. He spends a lot of time asking people to repeat themselves, and it takes him a beat longer to string a thought together.

He is blissfully numb, but his head feels fuzzy.

It makes forgetting easier.

It makes detecting harder.

So, he stops taking them.


The call about Gary Best's dad comes through late.

Mickey is the one with the know how and the personal connection, the professional history.

MIT isn't like sun hill. He hasn't got the safety net of being best mates with the DCI. No get out of jail free card.

No endless supply of second chances.

He's just got one.

And he can't squander it.


He finds it easy to smile at the woman on the front desk. she doesn't know him. Doesn't know what happened to him. He doesn't have to pretend. So, he takes pride in the fact that he used to work there and for a split second he can fool himself he's almost normal

Tony ruins it. He can't even fake normalcy down the length of a corridor. His hand is meant to be reassuring on his back, but it just feels heavy and makes his skin crawl. Between him and Smithy they rob him of any chance he has of getting through this unscathed. Smithy looks like he's seen a ghost.

"Look let's not pretend ey fellas? Okay, I was assaulted. I was sexually assaulted, alright?" he stresses, "But I ain't got leprosy and no one's gonna catch anything so if you don't mind I've got a murder suspect to see."

There. He spoke about the sodding thing.

Maybe now he can get on with his actual job.


Being here is making him remember things. Old faces. New faces.

Working with Jack.

Juliet's bleeding out in the yard. Gary's lost his dad.

He turns to Sam.

"Look if you see the DCI tell him- "

But he doesn't get to finish as Gary comes tearing down the corridor fuelled by rage.