All He Ever Had

Rose G

Disclaimer – Not mine, nor am I making money from the use of the characters.

A/ N – I wrote this quite a while ago, but due to computer problems it is only just being uploaded. Also, any inaccuracies are due to me having seen these episodes only once and that over a year ago. Italics are thoughts.

'I want to make a statement, sir.' Mickey's voice trembled, almost broke on the last word. I don't want to. Have to. Must.

Meadows glanced around the empty CID office and lowered as voice, regardless. He leant forward over Mickey's shoulder, trying to comfort the younger man. 'Are you sure? It's up to you, entirely, you know. I'm not going to make you press charges.'

'Everyone already knows, guv. What good would it do for 'em to know that I was too afraid to charge him?'

'They wouldn't think any the less of you. If you're sure ... I can have some-one from the support group here in half an hour to take a statement. That okay, is it?'

Mickey's face crumpled as though he had been hit. It was an expression that matched his battered visage. 'Guv... guv...' That was a whisper, barely audible, more mouthing than words.

'What, Mickey?'

'I don't wanna talk to some bloke I've never met before. I ain't going to talk to them. Can't I talk to you? Please, guv, can't you take a statement?' Mickey screwed his neck round to face Meadows, using his eyes to rely his appeal because he couldn't vocalise what he needed to say.

'They're trained for this. They know what to say.'

'Aren't you? Please, guv. I'm sorry if it's a problem...'

Meadows sighed. 'Of course it isn't. If you're sure that you want me to do it, I will. Do you want anyone else in on it?' You idiot Mickey, they can help you. What do you think that I can do for you? Why me?

'I trust you.' Mickey forced himself to make eye contact with the DCI, choking down the terror that rose as his eyes met those of another man for the first time since the rape, since Delaney's eyes had bored into his. 'I trust you.' He had no other reason, no justification except that bland statement of how he felt. 'I don't want them to know what happened... but I trust you.' I'd trust you with my life.

The simple words touched Meadows deeply and he had to fight the urge to take Mickey into his arms and hold the younger man until the pain in his eyes had gone. Instead, he simply nodded. 'Alright. My office?' An interview would be too much, force Mickey to be too close and without the option to move away.

Mickey followed his mentor closely, unwilling to be alone even in his own station. He hurried as best as he could, hoping without any real hope that Meadows would slow down. The violation of his body had left him aching all over, and his inability to sleep the night before had left his legs trembling. The taut fitness of a football player that had marked him before had left him forever; he felt every one of his thirty years. As he walked, his eyes stung with hot tears of pain that he refused to let fall, even if they would wash away the feeling of the blood and Delaney's kisses that had tricked down his face the day before. For a minute, a too brief minute as the pair walked, he felt calm. The DCI's silent presence reassured him.

Then Meadows was ushering him into the office; into the room that couldn't have been more different from the warehouse where he had lain, but that was as soul – destroying in its own way. Mickey had never even noticed the recording system before; today, it froze his heart.