After much convincing, Steve had succumbed to Mike's relentless nagging to go to the ER and spent a few hours getting x-rayed and bandaged up, knowing as much now as he did before.

The concussion was no surprise, neither was his bruised knee and elbow, sore back and scraped up hand. All in all, it wasn't a bad outcome considering the severity of the accident.

Even though Mike had pushed for him to stay at his place for the night, if nothing else to make sure that he had everything he needed and could keep weight off his injured knee; Steve eventually won the battle to go home, slowly tackling each step, hissing at the painful reminders of his day gone awry.

Mike was right behind him, keeping one hand on his lower back in case he'd lose his balance, then helping him unlock the door to get in.

He knew that witnessing the accident had shaken his partner to the core and that Mike's fretting had more to do with assuaging his own anxiety than offering assistance he didn't need. As such, Steve had been a good sport, yielding each of the lieutenant's suggestions on taking it easy and to call in sick in the morning should his leg not feel any better.

Most of all, he'd made a wide berth around any topics that could lead to a conversation about Joe.

Even that splitting headache didn't keep Steve from brooding about that whole situation, wondering who was telling the truth and who wasn't. The coincidence of Murphy being born in Mississippi bothered him greatly, as did his priors and willingness to run from police.

At the same time, Joe was becoming more unreliable as days went on, using every opportunity to criticize the police and, ultimately, making him chase after a guy who might not have anything to do with this at all.

He knew Mike was growing furious about the situation, more than likely ready to hand the entire case off to a different department and move on with life. And yet, there was that nagging gut feeling that wouldn't leave Steve's side, wondering how they would feel had Joe been right all along. What if they were to come upon a bloodbath at his residence, finding a good friend and his entire family butchered?

"Here. Why don't you sit down.", Mike said, shaking him out of his morose thoughts as he carefully helped him strip out of his dress coat, then motioned toward the couch, "I'll look for something edible in your fridge."

Following the lead, Steve slowly steered toward the couch, using the backrest as support as he let himself slide into the comforts of home, every muscle and sinew in his body reminding him to take it easy for a bit.

Behind the kitchen counter, he could see the tip of Mike's fedora move up and down, as the lieutenant looked through the contents of his fridge in trained precision.

Many moments of indiscernible mumbling later, his partner reappeared, his expression that of defeat and impatience as he sat two bottles of beer on the counter before heading toward the side table that held his phone book.

"Nothing in there seems edible. No wonder you're so skinny. I'll go ahead and order some pizza."

Smirking at the feigned irritation in his best friend's tone of voice, Steve leaned back against the couch, cursing himself once more for overlooking the oncoming car, for jumping into action before even thinking about the danger he'd inadvertently put himself into, and for the delay in all of their other investigations this mess had caused.

And Mike was right about one thing, Rudy would hear about this and be none too pleased.

He must have drifted off for a few moments when he heard beer bottles being opened, the tantalizing sizzle that signaled the end of a long day.

Opening his eyes back up, he watched Mike walk toward him, minus the fedora and overcoat now, his grey dress coat opened up enough to reveal the familiar red vest below.

"Don't tell the doctor about this.", the lieutenant said with a faint smile and handed over the bottle, before sitting down next to him, a weary sigh escaping his throat.

Even though a few fitting words were on the top of his tongue, Steve stayed quiet when Mike raised his bottle for a toast, letting the days' events speak for themselves.

A peaceful silence settled between both men as they sat shoulder to shoulder, staring at the crowded bookshelf ahead, sipping on their beers and letting the world come to a halt for a precious few moments.

Outside, the strong winds from the morning had finally settled down, giving the city a reprieve after what felt like weeks of bad weather, and lulling its residents into a night of blissful rest.

"Let's see what tomorrow brings, buddy boy.", Mike finally said, never taking his eyes of the rows upon rows of text books, his shoulders slumped as though he was carrying the weight of the world.

And in his mind, he probably did just that.

Nodding slowly, Steve took another sip of beer, trying to summarize his plans for the next day which included tracking down the owner of the vehicle submerged in the Bay, asking around to see if there was another eyewitness to be found and maybe, just maybe, double check Murphy's alibi once more, see if there was even the hint of a shadow of doubt in the other man's honesty.

But tonight, he didn't have the strength to vocalize his ideas, knowing that in their line of work, things tended to change faster than they could be planned.

Instead, he stayed quiet, rejoicing in his best friend's presence, quietly sipping on his beer while celebrating another near miss.