SUMMARY: When Steve suddenly gets a mysterious injury, he and Kate needs to investigate its cause.

A/N: Hello, everyone. This story takes place after Season 5, as per usual. You can read this as a standalone, but I suggest you read the other stories first to better understand the characters and for plot continuity. Enjoy, guys. Or not…

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Possession/pɘ'zɛʃ(ɘ)n/ – the state of having, owning, or controlling something; the state of being controlled by a demon or spirit.

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Kate

"This is good. Excellent work," said Superintendent Ted Hastings with a wide smile as he looked up from the documents tucked into the manila folder which I had presented to him just minutes ago. "We finally got the bastard. Well done, Kate. Well done."

Pleased, I had to smile back. "I can't take the full credit, sir. Steve placed that file on my desk after I clocked out at about 11.00 last night. I believe he stayed back real late to finish compiling the report. You know how anal he can be on details."

"That he is." Hastings chuckled. "Is that why he's coming in late this morning?"

I briefly glanced at Steve's workstation. The time was already 9.45, but my partner still had not appeared. I was not overly worried, though. I did tell him to take the later shift for today. Besides, he deserved the extra sleep after the hard hours he had put to solve the case of the racketeering DI from a downtown station.

"I think he'll be in any minute now," I told the gaffer.

"Never mind, Kate. Go on, issue a warrant for DI Evan's arrest. I want that man in custody by the time I eat my lunch."

"On it, sir."

Beaming, I gathered the folder and walked out of his office. As I headed to my desk, I beckoned PC Tatleen Sohota to come over.

"Ma'am?" said the pretty junior officer, always at the ready to carry out a task.

I handed the folder to her. "It's a go from the gaffer. Prepare the warrant."

"Yes, ma'am."

"DS Arnott hasn't come in yet?"

Tatleen looked over my shoulder towards the access gate behind me. "There he is, ma'am."

I turned around and broke into smiles. "Well, talk about the effing devil."

Still grinning, I went to intercept him before he could reach his desk. "Steve. There you are. Great news, mate. The gaffer has agreed to—"

I broke off in mid-sentence when I finally got a good sight of him.

As usual, Steve looked immaculate in his customary three-piece suit with a matching tie and highly shone wingtips. However, his face was pale and grim, and he moved with a slight slouch. There were also deep creases at the corner of his narrowed eyes, as if he were in agony.

"Steve?" I touched his arm, instantly concerned. "Are you alright?"

He looked at me indecisively for several moments before quietly saying, "Can we talk for a minute?"

"Yeah, sure." I nodded.

"I mean, in private."

I frowned, my heart skipping a beat from sudden apprehension.

This sounds serious.

"Let's use Discussion Room 2," I said and led the way, with him following at much slower pace. I held the door opened as he entered.

"Lock the door, Kate," he told me as he went to shut all the blinds, hiding us completely from outside view.

My eyebrows rose to my hairline at his instruction but I complied without comment. Turning back to him, I asked, "What is it, mate?"

Instead of answering, he gingerly took off his suit jacket before reaching up to tug the silk tie from around his neck. When he started to unbutton his waistcoat and shirt, I cried out in horror, "Whoa, mate! What the heck are you doing?"

"Bear with me, Kate," he responded, wincing all the way as he tossed his waistcoat onto the discussion table. "I need to show you something."

"Steve, I've seen you naked before, okay? Seriously, I'm impressed. But this is highly inappropriate even if we are—"

"Kate, please." He looked at me imploringly, and I was struck speechless by the pain and fear in his eyes. Naked to the waist now, he slowly turned around to show me his back. What I saw there shocked me so much that I gasped out loud.

"Holy shit…" All kinds of awful scenarios were already playing in my head as I began to curse, "Jesus Christ, Steve. What the fuck?"

He looked sadly at me over his shoulder. "Yeah, I know."

"What the hell happened?" I lightly trailed my fingertips over three bloody scratches that ran down between his shoulder blades. They were deep and long, almost reaching his waist. "Shit. No wonder you look so awful. This must hurt terribly!"

"It hurts real bad," he didn't deny it.

"But what happened? Were you attacked, or…or did you get into an accident or something?"

"I don't know, Kate," he said, confusing me even more.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" I nudged him around to face me. "Surely you knew who or what did that to you."

"Like I said, Kate. I don't know. I have not the foggiest idea what happened."

"But that's impossible, Steve. Those are real painful looking scratches. I'm sure you would be aware when that happened."

"That's just it, Kate. I wasn't aware. I was fine when I went to bed last night. But when I woke up this morning, my back was on fire." Obviously agitated, he ran a slightly trembling hand through his hair. "At first I thought my old injury was acting up again. But then I looked into the mirror and noticed them. I couldn't clearly see the whole thing, but I knew something was really wrong."

"Let me see that again. I want to take a picture," I said, fishing out my mobile phone from my pocket. Soon afterwards, I showed him the photo.

His ashen face turned even paler. "Jesus. It looks as if I've been attack by a bear."

"I'm not sure if we have bears in this country anymore," I retorted. "Whatever it is, we have to get you to the hospital. Those scratches need to be treated right away."

"No, Kate. No hospital."

"Seriously, Steve. They could get infected."

"But what am I supposed to say if they ask me how I got them? I don't know how to answer that. They would think I'm a nutcase with the tendency to self-harm. Can you imagine what that would look like in my next psych evaluation report?"

Crossing my arms across my chest, I gave him a long searching look. Sure, my partner had been through a lot lately. He had been hurt on the job more than I could count, and he had been through various traumatic incidents that normal people would hardly survive. However, DS Steve Arnott was not an ordinary man. He bled and suffered like every other human being, but his sheer perseverance and pigheaded stubbornness was completely out of this world. To worry about the state of his mental health was like wondering if it would snow in winter. Pointless.

Steve was strong both physically and mentally. The actual person who was quickly in danger to lose one's mind was me.

Bugger, I thought with a weary shake of my head. I may be his commanding officer, but I was also his best mate. And so, against my better judgement, I made a quick decision.

"Get dress. Meet me outside when you're ready," I told him as I took out my mobile phone once more and started dialing.

He frowned. "Are we going somewhere?"

"Yeah. I know someone who can help you."

"But who—"

"Just do it," I retorted and walked out of the room, shutting the door on his mumbling protests.

As my call got connected, I promptly said, "Hello, Dr. Colby. It's me, Kate Fleming. Look, I need a favor."

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Steve

"Come on, Kate. Where are you taking me?" I asked for the umpteenth time.

Sitting behind the wheel of her Audi, Kate shot me a taciturn glance before giving the same response like before, "You'll see."

"Will you please stop saying that?" I threw my arms into the air in frustration. "Okay, fine. Be that way. But what exactly did you tell the gaffer just now that he granted us permission for a time out?"

She grinned mischievously. "I told him you got gonorrhea infection and need urgent medical attention."

My jaw dropped to my knees, utterly horrified that I was. "You didn't."

This time, she laughed out loud. "Of course I didn't, you numb nut! I told the gaffer that you need my help on some personal matters. Which is the complete truth, by the way."

"You didn't tell him the real reason, right?"

"No, and he didn't ask, though he looked kind of curious. He's still overly glad that we have cracked the case, so he doesn't mind giving us some leeway."

"Thank god for that." I looked out the window, and finally noticed the familiar looking building just down the street. Moments later, Kate flicked on the turn indicator before guiding the car towards the visitor's parking slot.

"The city morgue?" My eyes were widening as I took in the dreary façade of the old building.

"Brilliant deduction, mate," she glibly replied, turning off the engine.

"But I'm not dead yet."

She rolled her eyes and unbuckled her seat belt. "Do you want to be dead? No? Come on."

My partner then stepped out of the car to head for the main entrance. Muttering curses under my breath, I had no choice but to follow her, albeit slowly due to the mind-numbing pain on my back.

While inside, the receptionist at the front desk received us with a welcoming smile. "Go on right in, DI Fleming. She's expecting you."

Nodding her thanks, Kate led the way through a big door on the left and down the corridor towards the main autopsy room that we both had frequented many times before. The only different was, the autopsy table was empty this time. No dead body was laid on the cold steel slab to be dissected by the local FME, Dr. Helen Colby. Instead, the bespectacled woman in her mid-forties was sitting at the desk in front of a desktop computer at one corner. Checking her emails, most probably. She rose to her feet the moment we entered her domain.

"DI Fleming, DS Arnott. Welcome," she greeted us with a wide smile. "Good to see you both, especially without a corpse between us."

"Thank you for seeing us on short notice, Doctor," Kate said. "We really appreciate it."

"It's a real quiet day today and I have no customers for the time being but that might change in the afternoon when irate motorists start losing their shit while stuck in traffic trying to get home to their missus so let's get straight to the point, dearies. How may I help you?"

Kate chuckled, while I could only manage a pained smile.

"Well," my partner began, "As I told you on the phone just now, Doctor, we need your professional opinion on a personal matter, nothing to do with the job whatsoever. We also need your expertise to carry out a medical treatment on Steve."

"Medical treatment, you say? Shouldn't he be taken to the hospital for it?"

"We have our reasons. You'll see why, trust me."

"Hmmm…I'm intrigued already." Dr. Colby looked me up and down. "This is a nice change. A living breathing healthy physique. I have been opening up dead stiffs for so long that sometimes I wish they would just speak up and tell me what happen to them!"

The two women laughed over that gruesome joke, but I was too freak out to join them.

After their laughter died down, Kate turned to me and said, "Show her."

Sighing, I reluctantly disrobed in front of my partner for the second time that day. Handing over my tie, shirt, waistcoat and suit jacket to Kate, I turned around to show Dr. Colby the awful scratches on my back.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" After slipping on a pair of nitrile blue gloves, the FME came near for closer inspection. She oohed and aahed for several long moments, gently poking and prodding at my fresh injury with professional hands.

"How did you get this, Steven?" she finally asked.

"You may find this hard to believe, but I don't know," I replied. "I have no clue how it got there. That's the real problem."

"Hmm..." Dr. Colby muttered something unintelligible before asking, "When did you first realize it was there?"

"This morning, when I woke up in bed." I didn't tell her that the shower I took afterwards had been pure hell. The stinging pain as the scratches made contact with the jet water was so severe that it knocked me to my knees.

"What do you think, Dr. Colby?" Kate asked. "What caused those scratches? Are they from animal claws?"

The other woman straightened up after she finished examining my back. "No, they aren't. These scratches are indeed quite deep, but animal claws would do a lot more serious damage. And if that's the case, Steve would probably be lying on that autopsy table right now. Through physical eye, I can tell that these particular scratches were caused by human nails."

"Human nails?" I whirled around to face her. "What are you trying to imply here, Doctor? It wasn't me. I didn't do that to myself."

"I never said that, Steven. Looking at their position, I knew it's impossible for you to reach behind and give yourself that horrid scratches. So the big question now is, who did?"

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TO BE CONTINUED…

A/N: The story is not over yet. Stay tuned for the next chapter.

"What did I say about there being no such thing as a coincidence?" – DS Steve Arnott

* ABBREVIATIONS:

AC - Anti Corruption

DI - Detective Inspector

DS - Detective Sergeant

FME - Forensic Medical Examiner

PC - Police Constable