Thanks so much for the reviews, I have a ton of ideas for this story, glad you like it. Please R&R. Sorry if I change tense a bit here, I'm not very good with present tense.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. Oh well!
Falling
Chapter 2 – Standing On The Edge
Mickey is sat in the corner of his kitchen, back against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest. The knife is still clasped lightly in his right hand. His left arm is sliced up with angry red cuts. His clothes are covered in blood.
He's pale, weak, but he feels calm.
Suddenlyhis body is shaking with sobs, disgusted at what he has become, frightened at what has done. What he may do.
---
My fear turns into anger. Terrified anger. Wracked with dread, hatred.
---
Mickey wakes after a disturbed nights sleep, his neck is stiff and it takes him a while to work out where he is, then, after looking down at his arm, he remembers.
And the sobs return.
---
And once again I carry on as normal. But I'm not and I never will be, never can be again. Thanks to him. It's all because of him. What he did to me.
I'm falling into a dark, bottom-less hole, a chasm, a meaning-less pit.
There's no ladder to cling to anymore, I'm just falling, falling. There's no way back out, nothing I can do but to fall.
Eventually, I may hit the ground and then, at least, I will know that I am as low as possible. There will be no further to drop.
That day, that horrible, life-destroying day, in the warehouse, I thought he would kill me. But after what he did do, I hoped he would kill me. But he couldn't even grant me that, he made me suffer on, couldn't take away the pain. He just left me there, he just left me, and he went away.
But he's still here and he always will be. Because I have discovered, in the last three years, that memories are stronger than the here and now.
I go to work again, careful to wear long sleeves to hide my scars, the physical results of my emotional pain.
I can see that Jack's worried and I don't want to be the cause of that. So I ignore it and withdraw, work's not even enough to keep my mind off the memories.
---
For a moment Jack is relieved, Mickey doesn't seem hung over today, there's no mention of the team going out the night before.
But another look at his pale, drawn face and Jack knows that he has found something else to numb the pain. He just doesn't know what.
"Alright?" Jack asks cautiously.
"Fine." Mickey replies automatically.
"Um," Jack thinks desperately of an excuse to keep the conversation going, "you got that forensic report from the burglary?"
"It's here somewhere." Jack looked down at the desk which was swamped with files and papers.
Mickey began pushing the files around. "It's here, it's definitely here, I saw it this morning." He began muttering angrily.
"It's alright," Jack can sense his tension. "Just stick it on my desk when you find it. No rush."
Mickey clenches his fists.
"Mickey, calm down it's alright."
"I just need some fresh air, I'll be back in a sec."
---
I can't take the look any longer. Making my excuses I get up and get out of there. I don't know where I'm going but I find myself heading to the briefing room. The lights are off and the blinds down. I slump in a chair and pull up my sleeve. Mesmerised by the marks.
---
Jack follows. He watches him enter the darkened room and stands in the doorway. Mickey's back is to him. He sees him pull up his sleeve and scratch away at the scars which criss-cross his arm.
---
"Mickey?" The voice is shocked, questioning. "What's going on? How'd'you get those scars?"
I freeze in the chair. There's no need to turn around. I know exactly who it is.
"Leave me alone."
---
Jack walks towards him and sits in the chair opposite. He takes a deep breath, knowing that he needs to handle this properly.
"How did you do that?" He says gently, knowing that it could have been no accident.
Mickey says nothing.
"I'm not stupid, I can see what's going on here. I know you too well."
Mickey frowns.
---
He thinks he knows me so well. But he doesn't. He hasn't got a clue what's going on in my head.
---
"Come on Mickey, talk to me. I can help, if just to talk to me."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"How did you do that?"
"Accident."
"That looks like more than one accident." Mickey doesn't reply. "Did you do it to yourself?" Jack held on to the hope that he would have some reasonable answer.
Mickey stood up to leave.
"You're not going any where until you talk to me." Jack placed himself between Mickey and the door.
Mickey took a deep breath. "Get out of my way."
"Just talk to me, five minutes that's all I want.
"Get out of my way."
"No."
"I'm not going to say it again."
They stare at each other. Neither wanting to make the next move. Suddenly Mickey panics and tries to push past the DCI. Jack grabs Mickey by the arm.
"Don't touch me."
"How did you do this? Hmm?"
"Let go of me. Let go of my arm." Mickey frantically tugs his arm away from the DCI's grasp and rushes out of the door.
"Mickey come back."
---
That's it, I've had enough. I don't want to be here any more, this is where it started, where it all started and I've had enough. Everything goes wrong in this place. Well not to me, not any more.
The guv follows me as I storm away, back to the office, to my desk. I've made up my mind.
---
"Mickey, where you going?"
"Home."
"It's only quarter past nine." The DCI said looking at his watch.
I turn to him, look him in the eyes. "I know. I quit. I've had enough."
