A/N: Apologies for the lateness. This one took a while to get it's act together.
Thanks to all my reviewers. :)

4. Depression

Depression is not sobbing and crying and giving vent,
it is plain and simple reduction of feeling.

A lifeline had been thrown to a drowning man. The drowning man was him.
Although he was only drowning metaphorically.

A way to get away from a job he couldn't return to. A new job. All he'd ever done was be a copper and to change now... wasn't ideal. Plus everyone would want to know why and would assume the worst. Although whatever they thought probably wouldn't be any worse than what he'd been through.

But it was still better than returning to the NCS. To everyone who would be asking whether he really had anything to do with Liz and her corruption. And just because no one else had seen through Liz's lies, didn't mean he shouldn't have. He was the one dating her, marrying her..... he should have known her.
Another new start was what he needed. But the idea of it.. of starting again.. it overwhelmed him more than he'd ever imagined it would. And how many times would he have to start over? Would he forever be running away from something. If it wasn't a link to Liz then maybe it would be why he left Sun Hill... running forever and never getting any further
Because he couldn't escape could he? Not from things that haunted him, because no one would ever erase the way he felt inside.

Maybe it was the way a lot of other people felt. Other victims. He wasn't sure about it really. He never intended to get help, or talk about it. No group therapy or shrinks for him. He'd be happy to never have anyone know the truth, and that was what he would do.

He could live in silence with it. He would. At least as much as possible. There was the one exception. He took the tablets his doctor had prescribed him from the bag and looked at them.

His DCI had told him to have a few weeks off. They went too quickly. And the idea of going back out there, to NCS... he didn't want to go. For the first time ever, he didn't want to be a copper any more. So he called his boss up. Said he didn't feel ready. And there was a tone there, in his voice. He hated to hear it. It wasn't sympathetic or supportive. It was annoyed and frustrated. And he understood it, but still insisted he wasn't ready to return. Knowing there'd be no way to get him to come back, his DCI told him to go see his doctor and come and see him afterwards.
He usually avoided talking about what he'd been through at all cost, but the idea of going back to work seemed the more substantial concern and so he confessed all. His mother's death, his rape and how he he just lost his fiancé. The doctor just sat and listened. Impartial... bored maybe. All part of his job, another day at the office. He didn't flinch any more than Mickey would hearing grisly details of a murder.
He purposely left the details out about Liz being corrupt... that he lost her was enough information. The doctor told him he was stressed, anxious and depressed and prescribed him benzodiazepines.
Valium. Never thought he'd have to end up on these little pills. He was far to aware of the long term affect they could have. Had tried not to take them very often, only when he felt himself sinking into despair. Like now.

He swallowed a dose and just waited for them to kick in, he just needed them to take the edge off.

Jack Meadows was the last person he expected to see at the door.
There was a tension between them. Came from Jack's mistrust. His total belief in Neil and not him. That hurt Mickey and Jack knew it and had tried to tell him that he didn't believe it. He was just doing a job, but he would say that wouldn't he?

But Jack came with a reason. No social visit, not that Mickey expected it to be seeing as he'd not bothered since Manson's corruption investigation. He knew where Jack's loyalties really lay now. His visit came with just about the worse news possible.
Just the name was bad enough, let alone details of it. Delaney. He'd escaped and Jack suspected he was after Mickey.
Great.

Not exactly the news he wanted. He let Jack know that too. Asked if he had a Kick me sign on him. It just felt like that sometimes.
He was more surprised by Jack's response though. Not the sympathy he expected, but a kick up the arse. Told him straight, whining about it sat at home would do no good. He should get out there and do something, more specifically, help him to find Delaney and get him back where he belonged, locked up.

But Jack didn't know the truth of the situation. He didn't know where Mickey was. His career. His life. It was all sinking fast.
Jack just didn't understand. He tried. Tried to be there saying the right words, but he didn't know what they were any more than Mickey knew what he wanted to hear.
But there was something. Jack was there. Inviting him in, giving him hope. Another lifeline. Another way to stop himself being swept away, pulled under.
If he didn't care he'd have told Mickey the news, warned him to be careful and left. He wasn't doing that. He was helping him. Trying to. All he had to do was take hold of that lifeline and not let go.
And maybe that was better than any words that he could say. Maybe it was worth more than words. Jack was giving him a chance, a way back in. Was trying to help, even if he didn't really know what he was doing, he was trying. But Mickey didn't know any better. He had nothing going for him.
A high-vis vest and a promise of a job wasn't enough. Not when the other choice was Jack.
He went with Jack.
He picked his lifeline.