Disclaimer: The Bill and characters belong to someone else. Hayden is my own character but considering I'm mucking around with somebody else's, its pretty rich to say don't touch.
Rating: 12
Warnings: Drug references, mostly non-linear, scratch that, wildly non-linear, angst with a capital A. (This is Mickey, right?)
Summary: Meadows is furious with Mickey over the Ron Gregory affair and tells him to take a trip. Unfortunately for Mickey, it's a little more literal than Jack ever imagined…
Author's Notes: Can you see the cobwebs? Old story about the beginning of Jack and Mickey estrangement started way back in 2003 but abandoned unfinished. Now revived after seeing Jack's proud smiles in 406 - updated, polished, not to mention finished and hopefully improved.
Notes 2: Set the day after Mickey and Robbie's rescue from Ron Gregory.
Fear Based Responses
By NorthernStar
Colours…
So many colours…
So vivid, hurting his eyes with their intensity.
There was noise around him, drilling in the road, a car horn, someone yelling. It was both loud and in-his-face and yet…distant. Because he was falling away to somewhere else, somewhere huge and expansive, and it was all inside him. Or was it?
Was it out there, swallowing him up?
Time was slowing, stretching out and he could see its coil as something separate from himself. Past, present, future, it was all tangible, like he could reach out and touch it. It was both inspiring and frightening.
And underneath it all, he could hear a child singing, "a ring, a ring of roses, a pocket full of posies…"
He tried searching for the source, but it was like he was stuck in very thick mud. His eyes finally caught on the singer and he recoiled from the sight.
Abeo was there, the child he and Robbie had found, only…only they obviously hadn't, because she was bleeding. She was standing in the centre of road, chanting the rhyme despite her appalling injuries. Cars raced past, unconcerned by this spectre.
Lopsided smile, bloodied, half headed, caved in…
Oh God there was too much noise
He never knew it was his own screaming.
---
"I'm sorry, Jack, but you have a blind spot where Mickey's concerned." Adam Okaro
He was going to be all right. The doctor's had assured him of that. But as Jack watched his young friend in the hospital bed, it didn't look as if Mickey would ever be OK again. He was sitting up in the hospital bed, hugging his knees, unmoving except for the jerk of his chest as he breathed and the rapid dart of his terrified blue eyes, paralysed by the drug scrambling his brain, his mind cut off from his own body and trapped in a near-death like ether that had no connection to physical reality.
Wherever he was inside that blond head of his, it wasn't a nice place.
He's in a K-hole, the doctor had told him.
Jack had shuddered at that, remembering the lectures he'd attended on drug use. A "k-hole" was the name drug users gave to the psychedelic out-of-body experience a large dose of ketamine could cause. Heavy users sometimes called it spiritual, but most admitted that, without the proper care, preparation and advice, it could be terrifying and overwhelmingly lonely.
Right now, Mickey probably wasn't even aware of his own body, let alone Jack. It was doubtful he even knew who or even what he was.
Reassure him, tell him that he's tripping, the doctor advised. He's afraid. It'll be over soon.
Yeah.
Jack reached out and patted Mickey's arm, careful not to dislodge the drip that pieced his flesh just above his wrist. Mickey's wild eyes darted in terror, the only reaction he gave.
Yeah…
Jack sighed. Only Mickey wasn't the only one afraid here, was he?
And Jack didn't seem to feel anything else just recently, except be afraid.
For Mickey.
For a colleague.
When had the lad become so important?
Jack had known he was fond of Mickey and respected him as a fellow copper and maybe he would even have admitted to favouring the DC above the others in his department, but nothing he would deem inappropriate.
But when they realised that Ron Gregory had Mickey and Robbie, and in all likelihood was going to kill them, if he hadn't already; his fear had been so deep and cutting that had almost felt like a physical pain. He hadn't realised until that moment that Mickey was as dear to him as family.
But Okaro had.
And every time the phone had rung, Jack's heart had clenched, expecting to be told someone had found their bodies, that he was too late…
Mickey made a soft cry. Jack shushed him again, unsure whether to touch him or not. He was so far gone into his own world that touch might not even register, and if it did, might be unexpected and frightening.
Jack's hand wavered inches from Mickey's head, the urge to soothe him almost irresistible.
He cursed himself.
It was wrong. He was Mickey's superior. Distance was required.
But there wasn't.
And didn't everyone know it.
---
Mickey stared at the adverts in the travel agents window. A couple of the package holidays sounded very attractive, dirt cheap this time of year and guaranteed not to be crowded. He'd even stand a good chance of not burning too.
Not that he had anyone to go with, not at such short notice.
Maybe his mum, but…
He wouldn't be great company right now.
Mickey sighed and turned his back on the adverts. No, Jack might have ordered him to take a holiday, but he didn't really feel like actually taking one. And he really didn't need to think about his future at Sun Hill. He wanted to stay.
If he hadn't burnt that bridge already.
Would he do it again? Yeah, probably.
Because the smile on Abeo's face when she realised she was safe, hugging Mickey's waist… Well that wouldn't have happened if he hadn't done what he'd done and made the mistake that he'd made. Napier would have used her as he saw fit and Angel's picture would have another beside it.
She was being cared for by social services now, in a foster home. He wished he'd had the chance to say goodbye. He'd sent a teddy on anyway and hopefully she'd know who it was from, and why.
Without her help, he and Robbie could easily have been killed.
Mickey turned the corner, deciding to head towards the pub and suddenly found himself thrown to the ground.
"What the-" A fist was rammed into his ribcage, cutting off his words. His face was pressed down into the tarmac, scraping his cheek painfully on the rough ground. He struggled under the weight and he realised his attacker was sitting straddled across his back. He could see another man behind him as an indistinct blur at the corner of his eye.
He felt a scratch on his upper arm.
"What did you-!"
A kick to side ended his protest.
"Keep yer mouth shut!" The man yelled at him. Mickey could feel him massaging his arm, just above the scratch he'd felt. "Won't be long now."
"What did you do!" Mickey demanded and earned another kick in the ribs.
"Present." The other man explained and then laughed nastily.
Mickey looked around, but couldn't really see his attackers. He did see a couple of people on the other side of the road looking their way, but he knew better than to hope one of them would intervene. Canley wasn't a Good Samaritan kind of town.
Then finally the weight disappeared, but another foot in his side stopped him from jumping up and fighting back. Mickey curled up, gasping in pain. He heard more laughing.
"Happy landings, mate!" One laughed, before they both ran off.
Mickey got up to follow them, clutching his side, but they were already too far to waste the effort to catch them. His arm hurt and he looked down, going cold when he saw what was lodged there.
There was a syringe still in his flesh.
And it was empty.
---
"And if Gregory has hurt Mickey, you're already too personally involved." Adam Okaro
Mickey cried out again, twisting in the bed, fingers clawing at nothing. Jack caught his hand. The movement was a good sign. He was over the worst of it.
Jack reached out to cup the DC's face in his other hand and made the young man look at him. His blue eyes flitted restlessly but Jack thought he saw a moment of focus in there.
"Mickey, it's all right." Jack told him. "It'll be over soon."
"J…ac…"
The relief he felt at that sound was enormous. "James Hayden dosed you with ketamine." He told him, hoping to give his friend something to anchor himself too but he could already see the brief lucidity in Mickey's eyes fading away. "We have him on CCTV."
Mickey let out a sob, trying to twist away from the touch. Jack held on, leaning over to catch his DC's eyes. They stared up at him, wild and reddened with tears.
"He's an associate of Ron Gregory. It's his sick idea of revenge."
But the young man was gone, lost in whatever his mind was seeing. But at least the worst seemed to be over. He was moving again.
"You'll get through this." Jack murmured as he let Mickey go.
He hoped the same could be said of him.
---
Mickey winced as he pulled the syringe from his arm. He looked at it in horror then dropped it like it had stung him, all sorts of fears running through his head – drugs, HIV, poison…plain air injected into a vein was enough to kill…
He frantically began to dig for his mobile phone, pulling it from his jeans with shaking hands. He could feel a warm tingle flushing like waves through his body, making his movements clumsy and numb. He quickly dialled but his fingers kept getting it wrong and he had to flip the phone closed and open to start again. When he finally did it right, he found he was patting out Sun Hill's number even though he'd wanted 999.
He impatiently waited through the ringing as the waves grew stronger.
He heard mumbling in his ear. He frowned.
The pain in his side was fading away but then so was his body. And the world, and even Time itself…
His phone slipped from his nerveless fingers.
Was that singing…?
---
Joanne Partridge almost bumped into the young man as she hurried down the street. She dodged him and grimaced with disgust when she saw the state of him. He could barely stand, staring into the centre of the road with wide eyes.
She shuddered. Canley was turning into a druggie paradise.
She stepped around him, giving him a wide birth when he suddenly stumbled forward, lurching sickly into the road. She gasped as a car swerved to avoid him. Horns blared at him.
Then the man started screaming.
---
"If anything happens to them, I couldn't…I wouldn't want to hack this job anymore…" Jack Meadows.
Jack looked up at the knock on his door. Phil entered. His face was grim.
Jack frowned. "What is it?"
"It's Mickey."
---
Mickey's body had begun to relax now. A nurse stopped by to check his obs and helped Jack to lay him back in the bed, into a more comfortable position than the contortion his drug fugue had bent him into. They tucked him onto his side and pulled the covers up to his shoulders. He might almost have looked like he was sleeping.
Jack brushed Mickey's sweat soaked hair back and smiled sadly down at the exhausted man.
The nurse smiled too.
Jack looked up at her. "Is it over?"
She put Mickey's notes back on the end of the bed. She nodded. "Yes. He's resting now."
"What about after effects?"
"There shouldn't be any. He'll be tired and achy, but that's all." She smiled reassuringly. "Ketamine isn't as dangerous as some drugs. Your son was very lucky."
Jack's hand tensed around Mickey's. "He's not my son." He said and deliberately laid Mickey's hand down on the pillow.
The nurse grinned. "Sorry," she said. "I guess with the hair and…" She trailed off.
Jack looked down with a half smile. "Will he remember any of this?"
She shook her head. "Only what was inside his mind."
Mickey made a soft murmur and Jack lent forward. "Mickey?"
His eyelids flickered open only to fall shut.
Jack frowned. "Mickey?" His voice was more insistent this time.
The young man's eyes opened again. He blinked passively up at Jack.
And then he smiled.
Mickey's eyes fluttered shut again.
Jack sat back in his chair and sighed.
It wasn't professional. And maybe it wasn't even right.
This had to stop now.
Jack got up and picked up his jacket.
At the door, he took one last look back at the pale young man in the bed.
He was Mickey's boss.
And it was about time he remembered that.
---
Mickey felt warmth gripping his hand as he drifted back to consciousness. He flexed his fingers around the soft heat and felt a squeeze back in reply.
He opened his eyes.
Robbie Cryer smiled gently down at him. "Hey." She said softly.
He rubbed his thumb over her fingers with a smile. "Hey."
--Fin--