Warnings: See first chapter.

Crash and Burn – So Far Away

Chapter 4 – Surviving

Half an hour before the start of the morning session, Jack was sitting in his office drinking coffee in an attempt to liven himself up. Despite his reassurances to Lou, he too was concerned about what had transpired the day before. The majority of the group seemed to be doing so well and yet problems with one or two seemed to overshadow their success. Kieran was also proving difficult in both the group and individual sessions. His traumas seemed deeply entrenched; many of his horrors coming from his days as a soldier as well as his stressful job as a fire fighter. Jack was trying his best to help him, but he wasn't sure if Kieran was ready to help himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the phone. He correctly anticipated it would be Dee, who asked to be excused from the morning's session. The older man agreed on the condition that they would meet up after the group had finished. Dee reluctantly assented to his request, knowing he couldn't avoid Jack for the remaining two and a half weeks.

The others had been worried, but Jack explained his absence by way of a doctor's appointment. It was true they had arranged for someone to check on his diabetes management but that wasn't until the week after. Somehow the session seemed empty without him; they told Jack he hadn't eaten his meal with them the evening before and it was easy to see why they were suspicious about his absence.

When the group was over, Jack returned to his office to find Dee already there, having been shown in by his secretary. She had made him a cup of coffee but it remained largely untouched in front of him.

"Good morning, Dee," Jack said with a smile as he settled into his chair across from him. "The rest of the group really missed you today."

The younger man looked tired and pale, the pallor of his skin accentuating the redness around his eyes. It had clearly been a hard night. He nodded in response to the greeting but didn't say anything straight away. It was down to Jack to break the silence.

"Dee… I'm aware that you had a difficult session yesterday and I'm concerned that you didn't want to be part of the morning's group." Jack paused and rested his elbows on the beech coloured surface of his desk. "Are you wanting to quit?"

"I don't know," Dee said honestly. "Part of me does and part of me doesn't. I'm… I'm just finding it harder than I thought."

"That's expected. You've had a very difficult experience, Dee."

The younger man seemed to stiffen at his comment and Jack was quick to notice it. Suddenly the detective's shoulders sagged and he looked defeated.

"I know I need to talk about things if I want to move on but I just need to work some things out in my head first. I need some time."

"Okay," Jack said, nodding. "Come along to the morning groups and take part as best you can. You can take up with Lou when you feel ready. How does that sound?"

Dee contemplated Jack's suggestion before he nodded. The blankness of his expression made Jack think that Lou might be right; that the younger man had experienced something beyond the violence and intimidation of his already horrific experience.

"Also, why don't you take a trip this weekend? Go and see some sights, relax, do tourist stuff." He smiled. "I'd hate this to be your only recollections of England after you've gone home."

His reward was a slight smile from the younger man. "I might do that."

Jack nodded and returned the smile, glad that they hadn't lost Dee completely. Lou was equally relieved to find out that his experience the day before hadn't totally destroyed his faith in the therapy process. She had a brief conversation with her client, although it related more to the weekend break she helped him organise.

When he told Danny what he was doing, the other man offered to come. Dee accepted the offer and as they travelled by car to their destination, he became more and more grateful of the other's company. Danny's infectious good mood helped take his mind off matters he couldn't bring himself to face.

"So why'd you pick Wales?" Danny asked as he navigated the hired car down a seemingly endless winding road. For the past hour, fields of sheep had been the only scenery.

"Lou said it was quiet here. Peaceful."

"Got that right," Danny grunted as they joined a slow moving line of traffic with a tractor at the front.

"Ryo would love it round here," Dee announced as they rounded a bend and the sea came into view. The blue grey expanse stretched endlessly into the distance, dwarfing the tiny sailing boats that bobbed on its surface. "He loves great scenery."

"Does he love cow shit too?" Danny replied, frowning and rolling up the window as the stench of animal waste assaulted their nostrils.

"And I thought I was a city boy!" Dee laughed, glancing across at his companion's wrinkled-nosed expression and for a perverse moment thinking how similar Danny was to Bicky.

"Gimme a break! You can't deny that stinks!"

A further twenty minutes saw them reaching their destination; a small quaint looking fishing village called Porthmadog on the south coast of Wales. The white painted houses glistened in the early morning sun and as they pulled up outside the cottage they had booked rooms at, Dee was glad they had heeded Jack's suggestion to get away.

"You go and check us in, I'll park the car and bring in our bags," Danny said, pulling the car up to the front door so Dee could get out.

The proprietors of the guesthouse were a friendly elderly couple who insisted that their guests called them Pam and Steve. Dee liked them straight away, especially the fuss Pam made of him when she saw his broken leg.

"Oh, Sweetheart," she clucked, having to crane her neck upwards to look at the American's handsome face. "If there's anything you need then just say. Steve and I will take good care of you."

Despite paying for basic rooms, they insisted that Dee and Danny took the two bedroom ground floor apartment that they also rented out next door, at no extra cost. "That should make things easier for you," Steve had said as he'd carried Dee's bag for him.

The hospitality only served to increase Dee's feeling that he had done the right thing and as he gazed out of the window onto the pretty street beyond, he hoped that the solitude would give him time to get things straight in his mind before he returned to Manchester.

For the first part of the day, the two men ventured around the village, settling on where they were going to eat that evening before they jumped back into the car to explore further afield. They stopped in Abersoch at Danny's suggestion; a former fishing village on the coast that was popular with surfers. Dee immediately noticed the laid back atmosphere of the place, where every second shop sold surfboards, wetsuits or other water sport equipment. The surfers also brought the tourists, who filled the beaches, laughing and enjoying the British summertime which Danny explained was something of a rarity.

"We usually get about two days of sun and that's it. Then it's back to rain, rain and more rain and before you know it, it's winter again."

"Sounds depressing," Dee smiled as he blew a stream of smoke up to the clear blue sky before he went on, this time in a perfect English gentlemen accent. "I mean, God, this is just awful."

Danny laughed as Dee waved a hand to indicate their surroundings, which could only be described as beautiful as they watched the boats bobbing in the harbour; sunlight reflecting off their white painted hulls.

"Yeah okay, this isn't representative of British summertime. You got lucky, Latener."

The two men fell into quiet reflection as a group of teenagers pulled up outside the pub they were sat outside of and clambered their way out of the battered Mini Cooper they'd arrived in.

"Oh to be young again," Dee said wistfully as the small group walked past them into the pub, laughing and joking with each other.

"You're hardly old," Danny said, smirking into his pint glass as he took a long swig of beer.

"Yeah, I know. I just feel it lately."

Danny dropped the smirk and nodded understandingly. "Guess you had a pretty rough time, huh?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Dee said defensively; surprising himself with the speed of his instinctive response.

"Sure, mate," Danny said quickly. "No problem. D'you want another drink?"

Dee nodded, feeling embarrassed that he had snapped at the other man. "Thanks."

They headed back to their lodgings around six to get ready for their evening meal, having booked a table at a highly recommended Italian restaurant. They chatted easily throughout the meal, eventually retiring to the restaurant's lounge where Danny ordered another beer and Dee took a coffee. Nothing prompted the conversation but Dee suddenly felt he needed to mention what had happened earlier.

"I'm sorry about before, Danny. I didn't mean to go weird on you."

Danny looked up, his gentle brown eyes reflecting his surprise at the sudden topic shift. "Don't worry about it, Dee. I wasn't pushing you to tell me or anything."

The American was shaking his head before he could finish. "No, I was being stupid; hell, most of the US knows what happened to me." He looked away for a moment, watching a woman outside trying to manoeuvre her car into an incredibly tight parking space. "We, me and Ryo, were working on a suspected kidnapping job for a guy who's something of a celebrity back home." He paused and offered the other a humourless smile. "It was going fine… until I ended up being the one to get kidnapped."

"Shit… so what happened?" Danny asked.

"I was held in an abandoned warehouse for five days. This…" he said gesturing to his casted leg, "happened when the bastard that abducted me decided to jump on it. I guess he wanted to see if a human leg bone would take his weight."

Danny shook his head, trying to imagine how it would feel to have a bone broken in that manner. "That's sick… fucking hell, Dee…"

"Apparently, I nearly died. I had a wound on my face which got infected because of the shitty conditions I was kept in." Unconsciously he reached up and touched his cheek, still unable to believe that the damage had been repaired so successfully. The skin there was still shiny; a telling reminder that something had occurred, but having seen the damaged flesh in the days following his rescue, Dee was more than happy with the result.

"And if that wasn't enough, I then found out that I was diabetic. Guess that all adds up to one fucked up cop."

"Jesus, Dee, you have had a rough ride. Makes the rest of us look like frauds."

Dee shook his head emphatically. "Everyone's here for a reason."

"Still, I think you're doing really well given the circumstances," Danny said in genuine admiration.

"Thanks, but now I feel like a fraud."

Danny looked confused until Dee explained.

"I have panic attacks. They're triggered by stupid things and, well, until I get over them, I can't get on with my life, no matter how things appear on the surface. It's just a mask."

Danny nodded. He knew all about masks. He'd been wearing one for as long as he could remember.

"I was on a call out," he said suddenly. "Nothing unusual; a known street thief and drug dealer had been seen in the city centre just as a large group of American tourists had lost some of their belongings. We went round to an address we knew he was staying at. Sounds crazy I know, but he was always straight up with us, we'd had so many dealings with him. That night though, he'd taken some bad shit and was completely off his head. We were totally unprepared when he pulled a gun on us."

The younger man stopped and scrubbed a hand through his shaggy brown hair. For once the smile was absent. "I was the only one out of the three of us that survived. My colleagues, my friends, were both murdered by some small time fucked up junkie on a seriously bad trip. I watched them die and there's not a day that goes by when I don't think of them and feel guilty that I'm still here and they're not."

Dee's heart reached out to the troubled man. He knew he'd feel exactly the same if anything happened to Drake, Ted or JJ. "You shouldn't feel guilty, Danny," Dee said gently. "Although I know that's easier said than done."

"Yeah, I know," Danny replied, stubbing out his cigarette, the smile creeping back onto his face. "I'm getting that drummed into me every week day at two o'clock."

"Is it going okay?" Dee asked.

"Yeah, I think so. Guess the real test is when we have to go back into the real world. How 'bout you?"

Dee nodded, pushing aside the memories of his last session with Lou. "Yeah… it's helping.  And don't worry, I'm sure you'll ace that test."

Danny smiled. "You too, Latener. You too."

The following day, the two men planned to be back in Manchester by evening. Over breakfast, Danny received a phone call from a friend who lived about an hour's drive from Porthmadog. When the friend asked if Danny wanted to meet up with him, Dee told him to go; he'd come away to do some thinking so he was happy to spend the day on his own. As Danny brought the car around, Dee enquired as to where he could go to while away the hours, preferably away from the tourists. Steve told him of a little village not far from Porthmadog called Cricieth. There was a tiny beach and some castle ruins; pleasant, but not interesting enough to encourage the visitors. It was wild and unspoilt and perfect if he wanted some 'quiet time'.

After getting directions, Danny dropped him off in Cricieth. Pam and Steve had been right; the beach was shingle rather than sand and was only a hundred yards long before it terminated at a jagged cliff face.

"You sure you wanna get out here?" Danny asked, looking dubiously at their surroundings.

"Yeah," Dee replied, glancing up the sharp slope to the ruins of what once was a medieval watch tower.

"What about getting back?"

Steve gave me the number of a local taxi company. I've got my cell phone; I'll just call a cab when I'm ready to go."

"Sure?"

"Sure."

Dee watched as Danny drove away before he started towards the ruins. It was hard going; the ruins weren't a huge tourist attraction so there was no disabled access and it was difficult and dangerous for the man ascending the hill on crutches. He made it in the end however and the sense of achievement not to mention the burn of adrenaline in every sinew made him want to shout out in triumph at the tempestuous grey waters beyond.

His elation was quickly replaced by another extreme emotion; anger. Alone with only his thoughts for company, Dee was forced to consider what he'd learnt as a result of his last session with Lou. Something had happened to him; something he could only half recall. That in itself was frightening. There were snatches of memory but they were interspersed with longer blanks; periods where he couldn't recall what had happened no matter how much he tried. What he could remember left him cold and physically shaking.

He's going to hurt them you know, your lover and the boy.

He's tired of waiting and he's on edge.

He's dangerous when he's like that.

I can stop him, you know, if I wanted to. He owes me things, you see.

But first, I want something from you.

The wind ruffled his already tangled hair, blowing loose strands into his eyes as he sat and stared out to sea. Before long, his cheeks were wet with tears as he sat on the wind-blow cliff top, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. Pain burned in his chest and even when his sobs eventually subsided, his body all cried out, he still felt no release. At a loss at how to assuage his grief and confusion, he let out a cry that quickly grew in power and volume. The action was raw and animalistic and he continued to yell until his lungs were empty of air.

If anyone heard him, then they weren't concerned enough to come and find out why he was shouting, leaving the response to the sea, which merely roared in blessed indifference of his pain. You're on your own, it seemed to say, almost mocking him that he could never drown out the crashing of the waves down below with his own human effort.

A sense of numbness settled upon him as he climbed down from his vantage point to the beach below. The pebbles underfoot were loose and he didn't venture far until he chose somewhere to sit down, laying his crutches on the ground beside him. Surrounded by driftwood and other ocean detritus, his eyes fixed on the murky grey sea, watching as it inched towards his feet before racing back to join the swirling, swelling mass. Occasionally he would select a pebble, running his fingers across the smooth surface before he threw it into the water.

Minutes passed until the crunch of stones underfoot told him that he was no longer alone. He looked around to see a man further up the beach just about to let his dog off its leash. When he did so, the large brown creature spotted Dee and immediately bounded over.

"Tyson!" the man yelled. "Heel!"

The dog took no notice, almost leaping into Dee's arms. The American laughed at the beast's enthusiasm, half patting, half fending the dog off until the owner came running over.

"I'm really sorry," the man said, profusely apologetic. "He's young and stupid."

Dee laughed. "I think we all were once. He's a great looking dog; what breed is he?"

"An English Boxer," the man replied, hauling the dog away by his collar. It made a strangled sound before shaking out its entire body and bounding away to chase a couple of seagulls further down the beach. The man however didn't move. He watched the dog as Dee watched him. He had a weathered face but Dee had a feeling that he wasn't as old as he looked. There was wisdom in his features however that spoke of experience if not age. In turn, the man turned and looked down at Dee in concern, seeing a weariness that was out of place on such a handsome face.

"Are you okay?" the man asked, although he gestured to Dee's leg. "You weren't thinking of going swimming were you?"

Dee chuckled despite himself as Tyson returned and started to chew on some of the driftwood at his feet. "I'll pass. Looks a bit cold."

"Where you from?" the man asked, picking up a stick and throwing it for the dog, who chased after the airborne piece of wood excitedly.

"The States," Dee replied. "Just visiting."

"Yeah?" the older man replied as he hunted in his pocket for something. Eventually he pulled out a pouch of tobacco and some papers before he sat down on a rock beside Dee and began to roll a cigarette. "If you don't mind me saying, this is a strange place to come to."

"I'm actually staying in Manchester; work stuff, but I needed to get away for a while, do some thinking."

The man looked up from his task, his eyes a similar grey to the water, meeting Dee's. "Has it helped? Thinking can be dangerous at times."

He offered Dee the rolled up cigarette but Dee declined, instead taking out one of his own.

"I don't know," Dee said, eventually answering the question. "I don't feel any better so maybe you're right."

The man smiled. "I gave up thinking about things a long time ago. There's no point in keep raking over the past. It's done, gone. Can't change it no matter how much you want to."

The man paused and took a long drag of his cigarette, his rheumy eyes staring out to the horizon. "When I was younger, I did a lot of stupid shit. Hurt people that deserved better, you know? I made peace with everyone I could but my mother… well… she'd passed on. It ate me up that I couldn't say I was sorry to her. The memories of the way I treated her haunted me, playing over and over in my mind. In the end I realised that I couldn't keep on battling my conscience; it would always win and it was driving me insane."

"So what did you do?" Dee asked.

The man drew on the cigarette slowly. "I told myself that the terrible things I was remembering didn't really happen. I did a lot of drugs when I was younger so it was easy to confuse the memories with the crazy drug-induced shit that I experienced."

Dee frowned in disbelief. "Surely you're just lying to yourself?"

The man shrugged, completely unfazed by the criticism of his theories. "Like I said, thinking was dangerous. Sure, I tried the conventional route; therapy and such but it didn't work for me. I was going crazy, analysing everything over and over. If I'd carried on like that then I'd have probably killed myself. Maybe I am lying to myself, but at least I was able to get on with my life."

He flicked the cigarette butt out towards the sea just as Tyson came charging back towards them.

"Well, good luck, son," he said standing and looking down at Dee with an expression that reflected his sincerity. "I hope you find what you're looking for." He smiled a wry smile. "My life may be a dream but at least I did."

He started off up the beach, whistling to the dog that followed after him in long, lumbering strides. Dee watched him go, the man's words starting to hold sway in his troubled mind. Could he do the same? Could he convince himself that these most recent and disturbing recollections were nothing more than fever-induced hallucinations? He didn't know, but as he crushed his own cigarette out on the pebbled floor, a new determination rose within him. He would do it; after all, they were only half memories anyway…

By the time he and Danny were on the road back to Manchester, Dee was resolute.

Nothing had happened.

TBC…