She stood there with her mouth open, unable to believe that he had walked out on her like that. She'd come to Miami with the intention of sorting things out with John and had even considered the idea of them getting back together.
Her feelings for him turned from anger to deep admiration as Andy had recounted the events that led up to her ex-husband's faked death and the terrible things that had happened to him only a few short months ago.
It had been one of the hardest things to accept, when she had heard of his death, that she had not done more to reach out to him in his time of need. Even with the passing years she had lived with guilt of not doing more for him, convincing herself that if she had just tried harder that he might still be alive.
As the shock of learning that he was still alive wore off she wanted answers to the questions that had bugged her for years. She needed to confront him and convince herself once and for all that their relationship was over for good.
Her lack of empathy for him, and her own self-involved nature, had been a deciding factor in the decision to call time on their marriage. John had pleaded with her to try to work through it, she refused and was more concerned with her own freedom and the chance to build the life and career that she wanted.
Now that she was older and wiser, it was startlingly obvious that she had made a huge mistake in letting him go. Her children were grown, middle-age had crept up on her quietly, it was only when she considered her lot in life that she realised that she had ended up single and lonely. Her children had gone off to college and were not particularly close to her, for a long time she was ok with that, now the prospect of returning home each night to an empty house seemed much less appealing.
She fully admitted to herself that she had treated him badly when they had been together, the way she had spoken to him during fights and disagreements had caused him more pain than he was likely to admit to. Her temper had always managed to get the better of her; there was something about John that just pushed her buttons. He always seemed to be able to get under her skin and drive her crazy, she never understood how much she needed that passion in her life, until it was taken away from her.
When she had been particularly cruel or nasty to him he had often took himself away, leaving the apartment until she had cooled off. The times were rare when he would fight back and say something equally as hurtful; he'd always been a gentleman to her and had removed himself from the situation before he would say something that he knew they would both regret.
Well, she was done letting him play the hero, he had become so good at painting her as the villain in all of this that she had started to believe it herself. She stormed through the hallway and found him sitting on the couch in the lounge, his hands running through his hair as he leant his elbows on his knees.
"You don't get to run away…..not anymore," she told him, leaning on the doorframe, arms folded as she watched him.
"Lori, please…." he pleaded as he looked at her desperately. "I don't know what you want from me."
"I want us to try again, John. We were so good together, you know that."
"Were we, though…..really?"
Flashback. New York 1992:
"Lori, I gotta get going," he told his wife as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of a chair in the lounge as he gulped down the last of his coffee and grabbed a piece of buttered toast on the way. "You sure you don't want a lift downtown this morning?"
"No it's fine. I'll take the subway to the office." She smiled at him as she admired the light blue shirt and black slacks he was wearing, reminding her that he had always looked good in black. The colour of his shirt complemented his eyes and made him look more devilishly handsome than he usually did.
After a decidedly rocky few months, they had finally managed to get their relationship back on track as the emotional wounds they had inflicted on each other slowly began to heal. There had been an icy atmosphere between the two of them for the first few weeks, neither of them had been willing to back down from their point of view, seeing themselves as the aggrieved party in the piece. They had both acted childishly, wanting to make the other suffer as they tried to make their point.
The deadlock was eventually broken when she had come home from a busy day at the DA's office the other week to find him sitting at the table in the kitchen with a bottle of wine and a vase of flowers for her. John had once again been the one to reach out and make amends with her, knowing that she would likely have stuck to her guns for a few more weeks yet.
They had spent a great deal of time talking and then the rest of the night making love, attempting to make up for lost time after weeks of fighting. The anger had served to make the sex even more exciting than usual as they went about ripping each other's clothes off, after sweeping the contents of the table onto the floor he had laid her down and shown her just how very much she meant to him.
She had woken the next morning decidedly sore, but very much satisfied, that they had worked out their differences. It felt good to wake up in his arms again after weeks of sleeping at opposite ends of the bed, to be able to watch the steady rise and fall of his bare chest as he slept with that boyish little grin on his face, reminding her of the complex feelings she held for this man.
After swallowing a mouthful of toast, he sauntered over to her and devoured her with a deep and lingering kiss before planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I'll see you tonight," he told her with a shy smile, the one that she found so very sexy about him.
"You will," she smiled back, tasting the coffee and toast that had recently been in his mouth. She waved him off and set about getting ready for work herself, it was imperative that she made it to the subway station on time this morning.
"Well look who's a perky little puppy today," Andy mused as he watched his young partner bound into the squad room with a contended look on his face.
For months he had to put up with his partner's foul moods as John would come in bristling for a fight after having another disagreement with Laura the night before. He was prepared to cut John a little slack, but there were times when the young detective had let his personal issues affect his professional judgement. One particular time, nearly a month ago, he had to physically restrain John from beating the life out of a suspect in a child abuse case.
The case had been tough on all of them, yet John seemed to take it personally when they had been called to the scene of what appeared to be a domestic dispute. Neighbours had called it in when they'd heard banging and screaming coming from a nearby apartment, uniformed officers had arrived on scene to find the body of a woman badly beaten on the kitchen floor. It had been too late to save her, so he and John had been called in to investigate the homicide.
"She doesn't look any more than thirty," his young partner mused as he carefully bent down to take a closer look at the body, careful not to disturb any of the forensic evidence in the room. "What do you think, Andy?"
"I reckon the husband probably did it," he replied, his tone implying that he was almost bored with the situation.
"That's what I like about you, Andy. You always state the obvious."
The older man's reply was in the form of his middle finger and an eyebrow being raised as he wandered off to talk to a uniformed officer. Andy didn't take much notice when his partner stood up abruptly and walked into the master bedroom.
It wasn't until he heard John's raised voice that he became aware that something was wrong.
"Get paramedics, I need paramedics in here!" The tone of John's voice conveyed the sense of urgency that was needed.
"What are you waiting for?" Andy shouted to one of the officers, "Call a bus!"
He shuffled into the bedroom to find John kneeling over the body of a boy who no doubt could only have been ten or eleven at the most. The child was staring up as his listless body moved in time with the chest compressions that John was attempting to give him.
"Come on, kid…..breathe!" he begged as the young boy remained lifeless. One look at him telling both men that the child had been subjected to the same kind of treatment as his mother. His clothes were blood-stained and torn and there was clear evidence that the poor boy had been kicked in the head by someone wearing heavy boots.
He watched on in shocked silence as John continued in his efforts to keep the boy breathing, only giving up when the ambulance arrived some ten minutes later.
He dragged his exhausted partner away by the arm as the paramedics began working on the child. "Let them do their job, John."
His partner looked at him desperately as his chest heaved and his arms ached at the fact that he had been working on trying to keep the boy alive for the last quarter of an hour. "He's not breathing," John spoke quietly as he winced at the sound of the paddles trying to shock life back into the gravely injured child.
Only a few moments later, the lead paramedic shook his head signalling that there was nothing else that could be done for the boy, they silently placed his lifeless body on the stretcher and removed him from the room, his vacant eyes seemed to stare at the detectives as he was carried away.
Andy placed a hand on his partner's shoulder and felt him flinch. "You did everything you could, kid…..It was just too late for him."
He grew concerned as he continued to watch John, the younger man's hands balling into fists as he screwed his eyes shut. "Why?" he growled through clenched teeth.
"Sometimes there is no reason, John."
"Bullshit!"
He watched as John stormed from the apartment and took himself off somewhere to let off a little steam. No one enjoyed cases that involved kids, but due to his own personal circumstances John seemed to be taking it harder than anyone else.
His brash young partner had seemed to make it is mission to find out who was responsible for the deaths of young Brian Evers and his mother, Mary. His sole focus being the apprehension of the monster who had taken their lives in such a cruel and violent manner.
He'd tried talking to John a number of times, trying to make the other man calm down and focus on the job at hand. He'd usually been brushed off with some kind of caustic remark and told to mind his own business. He'd never seen his partner so worked up before, the concern that his determination to find the culprit might spill over into something else grew by the day as he watched John's behaviour grow increasingly erratic.
It had all come to a head when suspicion at last fell on the ex-husband and father of Brian. He had no alibi and clear motive for the killings having been estranged from his wife for a number of months and denied visitation rights to his son. Forensic evidence had proved that Tony Evers had been present at the scene when the murders had taken place, the cruel and emotionless man didn't even seem remorseful as he admitted his guilt to the detectives.
It was obvious that the smug tone of their suspect's voice was grating on John's nerves as he watched him grow increasingly angry with Tony as they sat before him.
"You wanna do the honours, John?" he asked his partner as they stood up, satisfied that they'd taken enough of a statement to arrest Tony.
"Sure, why not?" he smirked as he pulled a pair of cuffs from the back of his belt and grabbed Tony roughly before pinning his arms behind his back. "Tony Evers, you are under arrest for the murders of Mary and Brian Evers. You have the right to remain silent, anything you do say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to an attorney…"
Tony turned his head and gave the detectives a smug smile as he interrupted them. "That snivelling little shit deserved it."
"What did you say?" John asked as pinned Tony's arms tighter behind his back.
"You heard me. That little runt probably wasn't mine anyway!"
Andy was too late to stop his partner from throwing Tony into the nearest wall as he raised his fist to him. He managed to get to John before he had caused their suspect any real harm as he pulled on his colleague's arms and got him away from the sniggering figure by the wall.
"Leave it, John," he commanded as the younger man tried to pull away from the hands that were restraining him. "He's not worth it."
"Let me go, Andy!" John's hands were still balled into fists as he made another attempt to break away and beat the living daylights out of Tony, only to find himself grabbed by the front of his shirt and directly into the face of his partner.
"Get a grip, you idiot!"
He felt himself being dragged across the room towards the door; Andy opened it forcefully and shoved him out into the hallway. "Get the hell out of here and calm down, you stupid prick. You're way out of line!"
"But he killed them, Andy," he protested as he tried to push his way back into the room.
"And how are we going to get justice for them if you beat the shit out of our suspect in the interview room?" Andy crossed his arms and stared down his precocious young partner. "I'm not telling you again…..take a hike."
He looked at his partner petulantly before straightening his shirt and getting in the older man's face. "Screw you, Andy," he huffed as he turned around and stalked away.
"You look like a man who's been getting his end away recently," Andy mused as he watched his partner sit down at the desk opposite him, smoothing his tie down as he lowered himself into his chair.
"Jealous, Andy?" he asked with a smirk.
"Nah, Laura can keep you. I've heard you're shit in bed."
The two men shared a grin; it felt good that John was finally in a better place now that his home life seemed to be back on track. John had been worse than his ex-wife with his unpredictable moods lately, he could understand why he was acting out of sorts, but he had quickly tired of his overly-emotional partner kicking up a stink every two minutes. John was a good man and a fine detective, but a complete pain in the ass when things weren't going his way. It was a relief that he finally seemed to have his head back in the game.
"What's on the agenda for today?" the burly detective asked as he popped a peanut into his mouth and crunched on it noisily.
"Nothing much," John shrugged. "I suppose we could do a few follow up interviews with the witnesses on the Welch case."
Andy shot the younger man a sour look. "Do we have to? That old lady Mitchell gives me the heebees."
He laughed at the theatrical shudder that coursed through Andy's body. "She's hot for you, Andy," he teased.
"Well, who wouldn't be?"
Any further conversation was halted by the deafening booming noise that echoed from outside the walls of the Precinct causing many of its occupants to grab onto whatever they could hold onto as the building shook. Shockwaves rippled through the area as the contents of tables and desks shook visibly, small clouds of dust cascaded from the ceiling to the ground as the movements ceased.
"What the hell was that?" a voice exclaimed from the other end of the room.
After the initial shock had worn off, John ran over to the window and gazed at the carnage outside. The colour drained from his face as realisation dawned on him; smoke was billowing up from an area no more than 300 yards down the street. He looked on in horror as he saw dozens of people stumbling from the entrance to the subway, covered in dust, dirt and blood as they held the injured portions of their bodies.
The cries and screams of the injured could be heard from the Precinct building and for a moment he stood frozen in fear, gawping at the scene below. One look at the clock on the squad room wall confirmed his worst fears. If Lori had got on the 09.05 subway train it would have been passing through this very area at the time of the explosion.
"Oh, God," he whispered as he felt his hands begin to shake. He turned to look at Andy and then ran for the stairs, not listening as his partner called to him.
"Where are you going, John?" Andy yelled as his voice was almost drowned out by the cacophony of sirens that were getting louder by the second.
"She's on there, Andy. I have to find her."
He didn't have time to explain any further as he raced down the steps two at a time, pushing people out of the way in his haste to get to the street below. It felt like a movie scene as he stood outside the ancient NYPD building, acrid smoke filled the air as he waved a hand in front of his face in an effort to see more clearly.
It was a futile gesture; the smoke was becoming thicker and darker as he ran down towards the subway station, absent-mindedly directing injured people towards the Precinct building behind him as he concentrated solely on reaching his goal.
The thick, dusty smoke made him cough as he finally reached the entrance to the subway, he pushed his way past dozens of dazed members of the public as they cried and shouted at him to help them. "Get up top," he muttered as he made his way further down the stairs.
It was sheer luck that he had remembered to put the small penlight in his suit jacket pocket this morning, as the further he descended the darker it became. He flicked the torch on and frowned at the meagre amount of light it gave out. Everything was dim, but it was bright enough to see the scene of utter devastation in front of him as the sights, sounds and smells assaulted his senses all at once.