So I went back to my favourite show because I was stressed out, and this happened. It's set during the latter half of series 10, and I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own New Tricks, and am not associated with BBC Television or Wall to Wall.

"Say that again?"

Gerry scowls and looks away. "You heard me."

True, pubs aren't exactly the quietest places, but Steve thinks he's justified in his surprise. "Aye, but I don't believe it. You, Gerry Standing, want to go and play in the forest?"

The look in Gerry's eye is enough to make Steve suspect his friend wants to hit him, but annoyance is better than the almost-fear that was present before so Steve welcomes it and finishes the rest of his drink and waits.

"No," Gerry bites out a moment later. "I want to be able to take my grandson for a walk without having a panic attack, you muppet."

Steve smirks, but thinking about Gerry Junior makes him think of Stewie, and he's not nearly drunk enough for that so he forces the conversation on. "Okay, okay. Saturday work for you?"

Gerry's eyes widen to a comical degree. "You serious?"

Steve shrugs. "Not like I've got much else to do."

It's far better than sitting in an empty flat trying not to think about his son. Gerry opens his mouth, then closes it again, and Steve claps him on the shoulder as he pushes himself up.

"Another one?"

Gerry finally catches his eye and smiles. "Cheers, mate."

Steve is whistling as he makes his way through the crowd. After all, what could possibly go wrong?

The first time does not go well.

"I thought you said you could handle it."

It's hard to look intimidating when you're scared out of your mind, but Gerry is giving it his best shot. "I did."

Steve digs his hands deeper into his coat pockets. "Maybe we should get a couple of murderers down here. Take your mind off it, y'know?"

"Ha ha," says Gerry bitterly, but there's a rustle in the bushes behind them and Gerry pales so fast Steve feels a flicker of alarm.

"Hey, it's just a fox or something," he says. "No murderers here."

Gerry swallows. "This was a bad idea."

He looks about a heartbeat away from fleeing, but Steve knows something about running away and so plants himself in his friend's path. "C'mon, Gerry. You can do this."

"No, I can't, and I don't want to."

"You can and you do," Steve insists. "What will you do when little Gerry wants to come and climb trees? You really want to miss out on that?" He takes step closer, and doesn't take his eyes from Gerry's. "I did, and there's nothing I regret more."

There's silence for a long minute, before Gerry finally lets out a shaky breath. "All right," he grumbles. "We'll give it a few more minutes."

His eyes don't leave Steve's though, and Steve answers the silent question with a shrug. "No point in both of us making the same mistakes," he murmurs.

Gerry says nothing, but edges slightly closer as they follow the path. Steve can't bring himself to mind.

The second time, Steve brings booze.

Janice McLaren would probably be horrified, but if there's a better way to relax Gerry Standing, Steve hasn't heard of it. The weather is improving, but it's still cold enough that the two of them are bundled up well and they keep moving while they drink.

"I can't believe they just left me like that."

It's not the first time Steve has heard the complaint, but considering just how much damage that prank has done, he can't really bring himself to complain.

"I'm sure they didn't mean it," he points out. "You know what kids are like at that age."

Gerry grumbles something inaudible under his breath, and grabs another beer from the box. "I know," he mutters. He runs a hand over his face. "Just wish it wasn't taking me so long to get over it."

Steve eyes him. "It's nothin' to be ashamed of, Gerry. You've been avoiding it for decades, it's not going to get better overnight."

Gerry grimaces, though whether because of the remark or the thicket they're making their way through is hard to tell. "Maybe not, but it's taking too long. If you weren't here I'd be a right mess."

It's a surprisingly candid statement from him, and Steve rests a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not one of your cousins, Gerry. I'm not going anywhere."

Gerry shoots him a grin that isn't quite as easy as it usually is, but is still a huge improvement over the pained grimaces Steve had had to endure the last time, so Steve decides to take it.

The third time, Gerry distracts himself by asking questions of his own.

Really, Steve should have expected it. Not many people in their line of work would ignore a lead like that, and Gerry least of all. Still, it's an unpleasant shock when Gerry shifts on the fallen tree they've chosen for a rest spot and shoots him a wary sideways look.

"So what made you try Janice anyway?"

Steve has to bite back the instinctive retort that it's none of his business. Gerry deserves better than that, especially here. He already knows about both Tricia and the bipolar disorder too, and those are a big enough part of the truth that Steve finds he can shrug.

"New town, new job. Medication wasn't helping as much as it should have. Thought it might help."

Gerry peers at him. "And did it?"

Steve shrugs again. "I did say satisfaction guaranteed, didn't I?"

Gerry sighs, and gets to his feet. He's looking a bit calmer than the last time they were here, but for the moment his attention is entirely on Steve. "You do know I know there's something more to it, don't you?"

For the second time in as many minutes, Steve has to bite back a sharp reply. It's not Gerry's fault that he can't talk about everything without several hours of steeling himself, and he wrenches the conversation away.

"So, you decided when you're going to bring little Gerry up here, yet?"

As subject transitions go it's about as subtle as a tank, but though Gerry raises an eyebrow he does launch into a detailed explanation of his grandson's football schedule, and Steve lets himself breathe. He can deal with his own issues another day.

The fourth time, Steve decides Gerry has earned a bit of faith.

It's also because he's spent the night fighting old terrors and is too exhausted to hide anything, but he does trust Gerry, at least enough to give him the basics.

Gerry already knows everything about Tricia, but Robbie McAndrew is another matter. Steve sums it up in one sentence.

"My father," he begins, as they wander along one of the narrower trails, "is an utter bastard."

Gerry's eyes narrow, but to Steve's surprise he just nods. "Been wondering."

That does startle him. Sometimes it's easy to forget that Gerry is a damn good copper. "How long?"

Gerry glances at him rather carefully, but answers readily enough. "Since Glasgow."

Recalling how he almost had a panic attack after hearing Roy Fraser's eventual confession sets bile rising in Steve's mouth, and he can only nod. "Roy...He knew what was going on. And he still..."

He breaks off, unwilling to finish the thought. It's still hurts to believe that a man he trusted, a man who had kept him safe when he most needed it, could be capable of inflicting such abuse on so many teenagers himself. But he can't deny the facts, and he's grown used to people letting him down over the years. It's why he can count the number of people he's told this to on one hand.

He wants to trust Gerry. He hopes he can.

He feels a bit better when Gerry changes the subject to what's new in the world of tumbler pigeons. Neither of them are the sort to linger over revelations like that.

Steve's pleased to see that Gerry doesn't react to the forest noises once while he's focusing on Steve.

The fifth time follows his monthly phone call with Alice, and Steve is beyond caring what Gerry thinks.

Gerry knows something's wrong as soon as Steve picks him up, and when they get to the forest he's so busy pestering Steve that he starts along the path without even a moment of hesitation.

"I know something's up, so why won't you just tell me?"

"Because it's none of your business, Gerry," Steve snaps, and immediately feels like a horrible person when Gerry recoils. He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "I don't want to talk about it, all right?"

Gerry eyes him for a long moment before digging his hands deep in his pockets. "I think you should pay Janice another visit," he grumbles.

The chilly silence makes the walk even more uncomfortable than usual, and Steve can see beads of sweat on Gerry's face when they reach the halfway point. It's enough to make him feel even worse. He briefly debates keeping quiet, but the thought vanishes when Gerry starts jumping at birdsong.

"Spoke to my sister this morning," he says. Looking at the birds is easier than facing Gerry, but he can feel his friend's attention. "Old man's getting worse."

Gerry is silent for a minute. "I'm guessing you're not looking for condolences."

Steve doesn't even bother trying to suppress a snort. "We've been praying for it for decades."

It sounds harsh, and something deep inside of him does flinch away from what he's saying, but thinking of him brings back the years of abuse and humiliation and Steve grits his teeth. It shouldn't be this way, but it is and he and Alice aren't the ones to blame.

Gerry is quiet though, and when Steve glances at him his brow is furrowed in thought. It looks painful, even if it is an improvement on barely contained panic.

"Steve," says Gerry slowly. "You do know your son doesn't want you dead, don't you?"

Steve freezes in his tracks. The familiar forest sounds seem to fade, and all he can hear are his own words, and Stewie's new stepfather's words echoing round in his head, growing louder and louder with every repetition.

He swore he would never be like his father.

"Steve!"

A hand grips his shoulder, and Steve jolts back to the present to find Gerry staring at him, his blue eyes bright with concern. Steve takes a breath, and runs a shaky hand over his face.

"Sorry."

Gerry's eyes narrow, and he grips Steve tighter. "You made a mistake," he grinds out. "One. That's not the same as whatever your father did."

"But it could have been," Steve insists, because it's true and why can't Gerry see that? "If they had stayed, if Tricia hadn't taken Stewie away-"

"Then things would have been different, but you still wouldn't have been him!"

There's nothing Steve can say to that. He doesn't know if Gerry's right, and he never will, but he still suspects his own opinion is the right one. He's the man his childhood made him after all.

They finish the walk in silence, but Gerry pauses before they drive back to the city proper.

"Look, mate-"

"I'm fine, Gerry," Steve interrupts, because he really can't think about this any more. "Same time next week, yeah?"

The speed with which Gerry agrees is almost enough to make him smile.

The sixth time, they're both on edge.

Steve is shaken from finally meeting his son, and Gerry is still not over Sandra leaving, no matter how much he tries to deny it, and the two of them are just grateful to get away. Gerry grumbles as they enter the forest, as usual, but Steve just rolls his eyes when he starts making noises about heading to the pub instead.

"Ah, stop complaining. It's working isn't it?"

Gerry scowls round at the surrounding greenery. "I suppose so. Don't think I'll be coming here on my own any time soon, but I guess it isn't too bad."

There's more than a touch of bravado in his voice, but Steve doesn't bother calling him out on it and shrugs instead. "You'll be bringing your boy over here in no time."

That thought visibly distracts Gerry from his unease and he launches into an excited recollection of his grandson's latest football match. His enthusiasm is infectious, and it's impossible for Steve to remain focused on his own problems when his friend is so excited.

"Y'know, you probably could bring him out here now," he says, when Gerry finally takes a breath. It's enough to stop Gerry in his tracks.

"What?"

Steve raises an eyebrow at him. "Gerry, we've been here for nearly an hour, and you've been absolutely fine. If your family are here too, you're not gonna have any problems."

Gerry opens his mouth, then pauses. "Well, how about that."

Steve nudges him. "Exposure therapy, pal. Told you Janice knew what she was talking about."

Gerry snorts, but continues to stare round at their surroundings. The first buds of green are appearing, and Steve smiles at the sight.

"Be nice here in a few months," Gerry echoes his thoughts. "Spring picnic, an' all that." His blue eyes meet Steve's. "Look, Steve, I'm really bad at this, but...thanks."

"You did all the hard work," Steve points out, but Gerry rolls his eyes.

"I couldn't have done it by myself, and you know it, so just shut up and let me buy you a drink."

It's futile to argue, and Steve doesn't even try. "Hey, no complaints here."

At least one of them is finally getting their head on straight.

The seventh time, they're not alone.

"No, no, no."

Gerry stares at the berries in his hand, and then at Danny. "Not edible then?"

Danny looks like he wants to jump off a cliff. "Only if you want to spend the next two days throwing up."

Sasha freezes, and stares at her basket in sudden wariness, and Steve shakes his head. "And you call yourself a connoisseur, Gerry."

"Says the man from the land of battered Mars Bars," Gerry shoots back. "And you're not doing much better."

"Hey, this was your idea, pal."

"You were the one who suggested a bloody trial run!"

"Well, yeah, but if I'd known we were gonna end up eating whatever you make with this-"

"What are you saying about my cooking?"

"Hey, a man's only as good as his ingredients."

"That's it, you're getting a Mars Bar for tea."

"Do you two ever shut up?" Sasha asks rather plaintively.

Steve sees Danny roll his eyes in long-suffering agreement, but he's grinning too much to care. Gerry glances at him, and the mischief in his eyes has Steve barely holding back laughter.

If Gerry Standing can be this relaxed in the middle of a forest, then maybe there is hope for the rest of them.

I've missed this fandom. Any feedback would be very much appreciated.