sorry this update took so long! the uk going back into lockdown, university deadlines and then catching an illness all seemed to try and stop me - but I am back! extremely nervous about this chapter but hope I can do the scenes and characters some justice!
Kate had not replied to her text at any point that night. Liz was supposed to have a day off, Ted insisting she deserved one after everything that has been happening. But she decided that morning to come into the office anyway, mostly to catch up with the other woman about her findings that might help Steve, if any. Besides, she needs to return Dot's phone to him after he left it behind.
Walking up to the building, Liz pulls her phone out of her pocket once again, desperate for Kate to have responded so she knows what she is walking into. There are no new messages-
The building's alarm starts to blare.
Liz snaps her head up and away from her phone, mouth turning downward in curiosity. What is happening?
Approaching slowly, she startles seeing two figures running hastily down the stairs through the glass windows. It is Dot, followed by an armed officer. What is happening?
Liz halts as they come bounding through the turnstile doors, Dot's face clouded with conviction. His eyes catch hers as he approaches, not slowing for a moment. They widen slightly, though remain hardened as he glares at her.
"Dot?" she calls out desperately as he comes near, the armed officer close behind, "What is going on?"
He does not answer her, only reaches out his hand to grab her arm as he passes pulling her along with him. She begins to run too, beyond bewildered, dragged along beside him as he moves. What is happening?
His hand slips down from where it grips her arm as they run, fingers tightening themselves around her hand, almost to the point it hurts. Liz returns the grasp, looking up at him, breathing heavily and brow deeply furrowed in confusion. What is happening?
As they reach the road, she turns back to look over her shoulder, Dot not relenting his speed for a moment as he dodges passing cars. She sees the armed officer reaching forward, a spare glock in his hold which he passes into Dot's other hand. Beyond him, Liz now sees Kate exit the building, moving just as hastily after them. She also carries a large gun, strapped around her shoulders.
Cars screech and blow their horns as they weave their way around them.
"Are we after a suspect?" Liz shouts to the man holding onto her as they reach the other side of the road, still running, "Have you found another lead?"
Again, she receives no answer, only a harsher tug on her hand to keep her following beside him.
"Get back!" he shouts to civilians as they pass through the crowded streets, "Move!"
"Who are we after?" Liz shrieks as they turn a sharp corner, her wrist beginning to ache from the man's fierce hold, "Give me a brief and I can help corner them!"
He ignores her, again, running determinedly. Liz wants to growl, frustrated at his silence and struggling to keep up.
She is pulled behind him into an alleyway, the armed officer right on their heel. They continue speeding by, Dot hauling her along beside him. She can feel his palms sweating, the grip occasionally slipping. But she reaches back, taking it again. Liz may not know what is going on, or why he has dragged her along, but she trusts him.
Liz turns back to look over her shoulder again, now unable to see Kate anywhere behind them. Maybe she was going another route to try and trap whoever they were chasing?
"Armed police!" a voice yells through the grated fence on one side of the alleyway. The three of them turn, though Dot does not allow for them to stop.
It is Kate. With her gun raised. Aimed at them.
What the fuck is happening?!
"Drop your weapons!" Kate screeches, Liz noticing Dot's hand grip tighter onto the glock in his other hand as they move.
The armed officer behind them stops and raises his weapon at her friend, only for him to be shot down. Kate does not hesitate, immediately turning the gun to them. Dot eventually slows, though does not stop, glancing over his shoulder at the fallen man, eyes wide.
Liz takes that chance to slow herself, releasing her fingers from where they were gripped underneath his. As she tries to slip her hand away, his hold tightens around her wrist, tugging at her. She tugs back, desperate to be let go and told what the fuck is going on. He avoids her gaze, glaring darkly at Kate before picking up speed again, his bruising hold on Liz's wrist forcing her to follow after him. She pulls back, but he is too strong. Her throat is too dry to shout. Her head too sore to think.
"One suspect down," she hears Kate call as they turn the corner out of her sight, "I repeat, one suspect down. Second suspect and civilian hostage heading towards-"
Her voice trails away as Dot drags Liz through another street, glock now raised up to chest-height, as if prepared for an attack. Liz feels herself begin to cry, too overwhelmed to process any of it.
Dot?! Suspect?! Her a hostage?! Kate after them?! What-?!
He pulls her onto another busy road crossing the flyover, gun pointed at moving cars to order them to stop. They fly out of their way, screeching and honking and- Liz's head hurts.
She feels dizzy. Her breathing is giving out. Her legs shake. Her hands convulsing. Her resistance against him slackens. At this point, Dot's hold on her is the only thing keeping her moving.
Mustering enough energy to look behind her as Dot pulls her down some stairs, descending from the bridge, she sees Kate still chasing behind them, weapon in hand.
She wants to call out, but things are moving too fast.
Dot drags her down the stairs, grip still cramping her small wrist. He skips steps as they descend in his desperate haste, Liz feeling her ankle twist painfully as she stumbles to keep up.
They reach the bottom, Dot continuing to drag her into the empty road.
He stops. So does she.
Liz looks up at him, risking a glance at his face as she breathes heavily, trying to revive her aching lungs. She bends over slightly, her arms beginning to droop, desperate to be freed. He does not relent his hold. If anything, he holds her tighter.
"Shit!" his head whips around in every direction. She notes the wildfire in his eyes, his brows furrowed desperately as he spins them both, looking for some sort of way out.
Why has he stopped? Why does he not keep running? Does he have something planned? A pick-up of some sort? Who is coming for him? What has he done? Why is Kate chasing him?
What the FUCK is going on?!
A sudden surge of rage motivates her to pull again at his grasp, tugging her arm away from him. He whips around to face her, his fingers crushing her hand and his other arm, still holding the glock, comes around to grab at her. She hits it away with her free hand, an immediate pain shooting through her arm as it impacts with the firearm. They struggle, Dot eventually able to twist her around to face him, one hand remaining tight around her wrist while the other grips her shoulder.
The touch is cruel. A sharp, painful contrast to the way he had caressed that same shoulder the night before.
"Dot, please-" she cries, quietly, too tired to speak, "You're hurting me."
That seems to trigger something within him. His grasp loosening, if only slightly.
I don't want you hurt, he had said last night.
Liz feels tears pricking sharply behind her eyes, though they struggle to push through the shock. She looks up at him desperately, still trying to shrug her way out of his hold.
Her heart shatters.
His eyes are cold, yet her own heartache is reflected in them. The man stares down at her, eyes darting across her face. They glisten, clouded by his own stubborn tears refusing to fall. His brows are raised, yet twisted upward, strained. His breath is heavy, hot against her cheeks.
"Liz-" he chokes out, strangled by a sob.
Her breath hitches, straining to hear what he has to say through the deafening beating of her heart in her ears.
Just then, his head snaps to the side, his gaze darkening again. She shrieks as he harshly jerks her around in his arms, back pushed against his chest. His arm loosens around her wrist, only to snake its way around her neck before she can feel any relief. His hold is tight, but not crushing, as if he does not actually want to hurt her. She feels a cool pressure against the side of her temple, realising he must have his glock aimed at her.
Liz raises her gaze, eyes wide as Kate comes running towards them, her own weapon raised. She slows, beginning to approach carefully as her eyes flick nervously between the two of them and the gun aimed at her friend's head.
"Drop your weapon, now!" Kate yells, lifting her gun higher in front of her face.
He refuses. She can almost hear the gun squeak under Dot's tightening hold beside her ear.
Liz can feel the man begin to sway slightly behind her, his own legs beginning to falter just like her own. She hates herself for giving in to the exhaustion, leaning back against him just to remain standing, with her hands hanging limply at her sides.
He's trembling all over. Liz is unsure if he is making her shake too, or if that is her own nerves on fire.
"Drop them, hands over your head!" Kate yells again, urgently.
"Kate-" Dot practically gasps, helplessly.
Liz tries to stand again, willing her feet to hold her up. She fails, once again finding herself falling into him. His arm moves slightly further around her shoulders, his chin resting uneasily on the top of her head.
"Not here for you, then," Kate bites.
"Not yet," Dot cries, unconvincingly, "But they will be."
Who's 'they'? Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?!
"My advice, run now while you can," Dot says to Kate, his jaw shuddering against Liz's head.
"I'm not running," Kate spits, "You are."
Dot exhales, deeply, it coming out shakily, "You went into my flat last night. When I wasn't there."
Kate remains quiet, neither confirming nor denying it.
Liz frowns, the movement causing her head to ache more. That was why Kate had text about his whereabouts last night. Why? What was in his flat?
"When did you know?" Dot asks, his voice still flattering. The gun held against Liz's head shakes in his uneasy hold.
Kate shrugs, bitterly, her own hands shaking as they keep the gun pointed at him, "That would be telling."
The man behind Liz growls.
"I get it," Kate shouts, angrily, "Steve Arnott is The Caddy so you can retire."
"Something like that, yeah," the man admits, looking hastily around for any sign of a getaway vehicle.
"They picked you," Kate continues hounding, "Groomed you, guided your career. You know everything."
Liz can feel Dot shaking more furiously than before at the harsh truth. She wants to sob as reality sinks in.
Dot is The Caddy.
He always has been. He has played them from the beginning.
It was all a lie.
"What are you going to do, just stop?" Kate darkly chuckles, "What do you think they're going to do to you now?"
The man remains silent, just glaring at her as her words sink in. He is done for. He knows it.
"Dot," Liz hears herself croak, almost a whisper.
He freezes, though his hands continue to shake. The gun beside her head falters slightly, lowering at the sound of her broken voice. It is grounding him, even now.
Feeling his grip on her slacken slightly, she raises her arms to place her hands on his around her neck. Her thumbs slowly stroke it, feeling his shuddery breaths against her neck as his head dips down into the crook of it, tiredly.
"Please, whatever is going on," she swallows down a sob as she feels a wetness pool on her collarbone. He is crying, "we can help."
She can feel him shake his head where it rests against her shoulder. She continues to slowly caress his arm, feeling his breath slow where his chest presses against her back. His arms have loosened, but she remains standing there, holding onto him, fooling herself into it being an embrace. That she is getting somewhere.
Liz sighs, struggling to form words through the anxiety that has risen in her throat, "I can help you. If you will allow me to. We can get through this."
His head shakes a little more furiously, as if he is refusing to believe it. As if he cannot comprehend the notion. As if all is lost.
"We can't," he whispers, defeatedly.
"Why not?" she asks, softly, turning her head slowly to try and look at him.
Feeling her do so, he raises his head a little, looking down at her, eyes swollen with regret, "It's too late."
Liz shakes her head, still gazing up at him, desperately, "No. No, it's not. Please, Dot, just stop all this. We can work something out."
"We can't," he insists, again, voice breaking once more.
"There is only one way you can get out of this," Kate pleads, seeing Liz is getting the man to reconsider, "Patrick Fairbank."
Dot shudders at the name.
Kate continues, "They say he's going to get off for those child abuse charges. You know names, dates, places. You know all about monsters like him."
Liz continues to stare up at the man behind her, watching as his face contorts into disgust at whatever horrors he was involved in. She dreads to think.
"Confess," Kate urges, "Give us the names of all the people that have ruined all these people's lives. All these monsters you've protected."
Liz closes her eyes briefly, feeling sick at the truth. How can this be happening?
"Dot," she says softly as she opens them again, seeing him turn to her, "Do the right thing. I know you. You can do this."
His eyes flicker wide for a moment, flooding with more tears. She can see the regret whirling in them. He's considering it
"Come back with me," she urges, still stroking at his arm, "There's still a chance."
He just stares at her. Liz hopes he can see the pleading look on her face, though fears she is not in control, the shock overpowering her.
"A chance?" he mutters, a brow quirking desperately.
She nods, her hands beginning to grip hopefully on his forearm, "For you. For us."
It is a lie, she thinks. She beats down any guilt; hasn't it all been a lie?
No. Not all of it. It can't have been. If there is the slightest chance she can help, get him back on their side, work through the trauma driving him - it was worth it.
He remains quiet. But she knows he is contemplating it.
He lowers the gun, his arm dropping to his side, limp. His other arm remains around her shoulders, clinging on to her dismally. She keeps her hands there, willing him to find some comfort in it, or assurance.
She does want to help. She means it.
"Please," Liz begs, helpless tears starting to fall down her own cheeks.
Something flashes in his eyes. She wants to believe it is hope.
It is interrupted by a black vehicle swerving around the corner, almost hitting into Kate, knocking her to the ground. The firearm skids across the street, the woman curling into herself, crying out in pain.
Liz goes to call for her, concerned for her friend, but is forced quiet by Dot once again taking a strong hold of her, one arm wrapping around her waist as the other tightens around her shoulders. She tries to wriggle, to break free, but finds herself pulled away by him and forced into the back seat of the car that has come to a stop beside them.
In a panic, once Dot releases her slightly to get in himself, Liz tries to crawl over the backseat away to the door on the other side. As her hand reaches out to open it and break free, his arms wrap around her waist again, pulling her onto his lap. She pushes against him, but he is too strong, her energy drained from the chase and onslaught of emotion.
"Go, go!" he shouts to whoever is driving, reaching out to slam the door shut beside them. Liz's wide eyes look over to where Kate struggles to stand from the floor before the door closes fully, the car then driving around the corner and out of sight.
The tires screech as the vehicle speeds away. Liz, still struggling against his hold where she is forced onto his lap, glances around at the two other men, clad in black riot gear with heavy weapons in their holds. One of them claws out for her, Liz attempting to kick their hands away as she still forlornly finds herself clinging to Dot.
"What will we do with her?" one of the men rumbles, still leaning over the seat to grab at her, "Put her with the others? Ship her off?"
As she futilely continues to kick out, trying to shake the man's grip off her ankle, she feels the man beneath her lean forward, wrapping his hands around her leg and pulling it away. He tucks her into him, his arm enclosing around her, tightly and desperately.
"Don't you touch her!" Dot screeches, out of breath, "None of you are to touch her!"
His own hands claw against her, pulling her further into him as if trying to get her as far away from the other men in the car as possible despite the close proximity. She circles her arms around his neck fiercely, leaning her face onto his shoulder, sobs beginning to wrack her body. Liz curses herself for still trying to find some sort of comfort from the man.
He has put her in danger. He is the man they have been looking for. He is to blame.
She clearly has not processed it all yet. It did not make any sense.
He is still Matthew Cottan. Her Matthew Cottan. Wasn't he?
Dot's hand grips onto the side of her face, pulling it upward to look at him, the other possessively pulling her body into his.
"I am not going to let anything happen to you," he aggressively asserts, his hands shaking frightfully as he glares into her gaze, "No. I won't!"
Liz does not know how to react, both wanting to lean into his touch and believe him, and push away screaming.
What does he even mean? What could happen to her? And what did they mean by 'putting her with the others'?
WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!
Liz tears her gaze away from him, shaking her head out of his hands, turning to look out the window to see wherever they were taking them. As they cross the bridge, Liz almost screams as she sees Kate emerge from the stairwell, her gun raising as the car poasses. Liz twists herself to put a hand against the window, hitting it out of desperation. Kate catches her eye, afraid, lowering her gun when she realises she does not have a clear shot. Liz continues to slam her fist against the glass as she watches the woman disappear out of view.
Once the vehicle has cleared the bridge, Dot reaches over Liz to take her hands away from the window and clasp them in his.
"Liz-"
"Why are you doing this?" she cries, feeling her limbs collapse out of exhaustion. Her head falls back onto his shoulder, hands no longer resisting in his hold.
He sucks in a shaky breath, hands holding her closer, placing his head on top of hers.
"I'm sorry."
Liz winces at that.
She understands now. All those times he apologised to her and she did not know his reasons.
This is what he was hiding.
She begins to sob, harder, at this realisation.
All those moments shared between them; the praises, the assurances, the vulnerability, the kiss.
What did it mean, now? Nothing. It was all a lie.
Suddenly, a shattering sound is heard, the car beginning to swerve uncontrollably. Liz grips onto the man beneath her tighter as her eyes snap to the driver's seat. There is a bullet hole in the window, the glass broken. There is blood on the seat. The driver has been shot.
The vehicle is out of control.
She feels Dot grip onto her harder, in an attempt to support them for impact. The car slams into something, the force of it whipping their heads to smash against the windows and seats.
Liz blacks out for a moment.
The pain in her head is blinding.
Peeling her eyes open, alerted by the noise of the car alarm blaring, Liz shrieks as blood drips down into her vision onto her cheek. Turning her head slowly to the side, she sees Dot's head is bleeding profusely where it leans against the back of the seat. His hold is now limp around her.
This is her chance.
Slamming her back against the now-broken door, Liz shuffles slightly, eventually falling backwards out of the vehicle. The back of her head cracks slightly as it impacts the ground.
But she is free.
Taking a moment to recuperate, Liz pushes herself up on her elbows, slowly as to not agitate the gaping, bloodied wound she feels pouring from her head.
Her eyes flick up to Dot as she sees him stir in the seat, eyes blinking open before snapping around hastily, searching for her. Their eyes meet.
Liz hurries to push herself up from the ground, ignoring the searing pain and flashing lights obstructing her vision, frenzied to get away before he can grasp her again. She seems him reach out from the corner of her eye, slowly peeling himself out of the vehicle. She manages to dodge his swinging arm, stumbling away as she attempts to run.
"Liz!"
She turns from the vehicle completely at the sound of her name being called.
"Kate!" she gasps, her throat feeling as though it has been torn to shreds, trying to run slightly towards the woman but finding herself unable to move.
Kate still has her grip on the gun, looking over Liz as the women near each other, eyes lingering worriedly on her forehead.
"You alright?" Kate asks her, concerned, struggling to catch her breath.
Liz tries to respond, but a strained noise bubbles out of her throat like bile.
She turns around, prompting the other woman to follow her gaze and look to the vehicle. Kate steps in front of her, defensively, raising her gun again as Dot stumbles out of the car, collapsing on the ground before trying to stand. The wound on his head staining his collar crimson.
Liz finds herself stepping around Kate to go to him, to help. Kate holds out an arm, the other still holding up the gun, but Liz manages to gather the energy to push past it, taking a few slow steps towards the man.
He pulls out the gun before he realises she is doing so.
Liz falters, taking a slight stumble backwards at the sight of it aimed toward her. Her arms slowly rise a little, in some sort of pathetic surrender.
His eyes droop as he looks at her, filling once again with hot tears. His unsteady hand shakes the firearm.
"Drop the gun!" Kate shouts behind her, unsure whether to move and step in, not wanting to trigger his reflexes and make him fire.
Dot trips as he takes a step forward, turning the gun away from Liz to point it at Kate, though his eyes remain fixated on her. Liz can only stare back, unable to form a thought.
"Dot," Liz warns, though her voice comes out quiet, tired, "Put it down."
He shakes his head slowly, raising the gun higher as his legs tremble.
"Give in," Kate urges, yelling, "It's too late-"
"No!" Liz finds the nerve to shout, "It is not too late!"
Just as back at the flyover, he is listening. She can tell by the way his eyes gaze longingly at her.
She takes a wary step forward again, ignoring Kate's protests.
"Come back with me," she pleads, her shaking arms raising slowly as she takes a few more steps forward. He just watches her, silent tears streaking through the blood on his cheeks, "Put the gun down and take my hand."
Liz watches as his arm falters, lowering the gun slightly before he seems to shake himself out of it, holding it towards Kate, determinedly. His eyes betray him. They are still desolately desperate as they turn down to her now outstretched hand.
"You can trust me," she pleads, reaching out as she comes closer, repeating her words from just last night, "You said you wanted me beside you. And I will be. As long as you need."
She almost wants to laugh at how bitter the words are now, the difference only a few hours have made. She means it, of course she does. At least, she thinks so. But it will never be how it was. It can't be.
He knows that. He has to. But hopefully, if he really is still the Dot she thought she knew, he will understand. He will listen.
She is in front of him now, Dot looking down at her despondently, gun still outstretched. Her heart beats wildly as she carefully reaches up, placing a gentle hand on the arm that holds it there. He flinches at the touch, but immediately seems to soften somewhat, eyes never leaving hers.
"I never wanted any of this," he cries, ever tear shattering her heart piece by piece.
"I know."
He begins to lower his arm.
"I just want it to be over."
"And it can be."
He is listening to her, trusting her.
"I never had a choice. I was so young..."
"You have a choice, now," she whispers, willing him to believe her.
He drops the gun to the floor, his shaky hand moving down to her open palm.
She lets out a relieved breath - he is going to come with her.
Dot allows Liz to take hold of his hand, fingers entwining with each other.
Liz sends him a soft, relieved smile. He is going to end this. He is the Dot she thinks she knows.
The man blinks back a few tears, unable to tear his gaze away from her. The pair breathe, heads beginning to clear as they soak up sobriety.
Before either can think of what to say, Dot's eyes jump to something beyond her shoulder. They widen, flicking to her briefly again before turning back, setting themselves on whatever was behind her.
Liz feels him tug at her wrist, much like he had done during the chase, twisting her around so that she is behind him. She stumbles at the force of it, falling to the ground.
"NO!"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
He shouts. Three gunshots.
Whipping her aching head around to where Dot was just standing, she sees Kate aiming her gun and firing at a man in the back of the vehicle. He collapses against the backseat, wounded, the weapon falling to the ground. Kate then turns, her eyes wide with fear as she looks to something on the ground a few feet ahead of Liz.
Following the woman's gaze, Liz gasps, the air scratching against her lungs.
Dot.
Crawling over desperately along the ground to where he lies, Liz feels her heart stop at the sight. He lays strewn across the grass, arms outstretched at his side. Three tears leak crimson through his white shirt. Bullet holes.
Liz only stares, kneeling on the ground a few paces away, mind clouding over with dread.
He blinks.
That seems to trigger something in her, forcing her to pull herself along the grass over to him, despite the excruciating pain it causes. Reaching his side, she looks to his chest first, the blood pooling, drenching his clothes and the soil around him.
She reaches out before she thinks. Her hands desperately press against the wounds, blood staining them instantly. His chest rises and falls rapidly under her hold, each breath sounding ragged and broken. The sound of it aches in her chest.
It is all she can hear besides the approaching sirens.
"Everyone get back now!" she hears someone shout, too fixated on the way the redness is seeping through her fingers to look up at whoever is shouting.
"I'm AC-12! She's with me!" Liz can hear Kate shout back, her footsteps coming closer as she comes to kneel on the other side of him.
Liz does not remove her gaze from the wounds, unable to, as she sees Kate reach up to the man's neck from the corner of her eye. She hears Kate curse, though refuses to let that be a bad sign.
She presses down harder on the wounds, willing them to close. People are moving all around her, but they do unnoticed.
She flinches at the feeling of something warm and wet against the side of her face. As if awoken from a trance, she snaps her gaze to Dot's face, seeing his eyes turned towards her. They are dull, yet she can see the remaining glint of despair. It is his hand on her cheek. She can barely feel his palm against her due to how limply he is able to hold it up. So, she leans into it, paying no mind to the blood it is spreading there.
His mouth opens wider as he struggles to breathe, the strangled sound worsening with every attempt.
She leans down closer to him, removing her hands from where they hopelessly had tried to block his wounds. They rest against the hand and wrist he held up to her, grasping onto it fearfully. His pulse is weak beneath her finger. She shudders, gripping tighter.
That's when she hears it. A noise escaping his throat.
He is trying to speak.
She gazes at him, questioningly, through her tears that refused to override the shock.
Kate leans forward too, swallowing down her own distress to pull her phone out of her pocket and record whatever he says.
Liz leans closer, still holding his hand against her face.
The sound is strangled, unintelligible. But she strains, determined to hear him.
"Get away from him now!" a voice behind them shouts.
"I'm taking his dying declaration!" Kate shouts over her shoulder, infuriated, "Stand down!"
She holds the phone closer to his mouth, wary not to intrude too much as he looks up at Liz and her down at him. But they need this, whatever he is going to say.
"Come on, Dot," she urges, "Say it."
Liz can hardly make out words, only having the energy to strain enough to hear 'Fairbank' and a few other names she did not recognise.
Her mind is too overwhelmed by the feeling of his bloodied hand on her face and the gaping wounds on his chest.
When he finishes speaking, his eyes turn back to her. She shifts her weight, moving slightly closer, wrapping her hands fiercely around his hand and wrist. Her silent tears fall on his face, washing away some of the blood that is beginning to crust there.
"I'm here," she whispers, Dot coughing slightly as if he wants to respond, despite his body failing him.
He looks right at her.
His eyes dull.
His breath stops.
His hand falls limp.
He's gone.
Liz keeps her hand wrapped around his wrist, still holding his lifeless hand up to her cheek.
Her eyes cannot move away from his. All that emotion, all that conflict, all that life. Gone.
She hears Kate curse again on the other side of him, a hand then reaching over and placing itself on her shoulder.
Liz shrugs it off.
"Come on, mate," Kate sighs, her voice wobbling from her own grief, "The paramedics are here."
It's too late, she thinks, bitterly, recalling the many times Dot had said that to her.
A group of footsteps come running up behind her, flashes of yellow and green dotting her peripheral. She can hear muffled voices, people shouting, sirens wailing.
Yet, she cannot let go. She cannot look away.
She said she would be there.
"Miss, you need to give us space," one of the paramedics instructs as they surround her, kneeling beside the dead man's head.
Tears are falling, still dampening the man's cheeks. But she cannot cry, nor speak, nor think.
Kate's hand rests on her shoulder again, the woman now having stood to move behind her, making room for the medics.
What good are they now? He's gone.
It scares Kate how still her friend is sitting beside the body, expression blank.
Kate had come to view the man as a friend herself, surprisingly. But, from what she could see and what Liz told her, things went beyond that between the pair. Whether it was deceitful or not, Liz's heart is undoubtedly broken. She knows how much the man came to mean to her.
But she also knows how much another man means to her, and how they need to get moving if they were to get him out of that cell.
"We need to take this back to the office," Kate says, gesturing to the phone, speaking softly in her friend's ear, "We need to get Steve."
That name seems to will the woman to listen, her head turning slightly, eyes finally defocusing from the dead man. She gently lowers his lifeless arm, her fingers lingering gently around his hand for a moment before pulling away, her eyes closing, pushing out a few hot tears. Her hands fall against her sides on the grass, her slowly rubbing them against it, trying to wipe away the blood.
She is covered in it. Her knees from where it pooled on the ground, her hands from where she tried to block the wounds, her head from her own wound from the crash, and, perhaps most cruel of all, a bloodied hand print against her cheek. Dot's hand.
It is as if the woman is in a daze. Her eyes are dark and devoid. Her palms brush slowly against the ground, doing little to actually remove the stains there.
She wishes Liz would sob or scream or - something, anything. This vacancy was terrifying.
Kate bends down, taking the woman's hands in her own, finding the sight too upsetting to bare. She pulls the woman up, concerned by the way her friend seems to have little power over her exhausted limbs, resting her weight against her.
Liz almost collapses into her side once she is on her feet, unstable. Her eyes trail back to the body, lost in her head. She shudders, a coughing sound rising up her throat as her chest convulses, as if she is going to vomit. Kate pulls the woman away a few steps, turning her so she blocks her view. Liz seems to swallow whatever has risen, her head uncontrollably rolling forward against Kate's shoulder. The woman pulls the other into her, wrapping her arms around her comfortingly, rubbing her palm up and down her back.
Kate sighs, watching as paramedics and officers scrambled about the scene, Dot's bloody body lying motionless in the centre.
This was all a huge fucking mess.