Touching Evil: Soothe (Creegan/Rivers | T | 625w)
[ Creegan/Rivers | T | 625w | 2007-08-11 ]
A late night phone call might be just what the doctor ordered. (Coda to episode 1x05, Slash 30.)
Soothe
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mutters, condemning himself, over and over. He closes his eyes and hits his head back against the door he just shut in time with his mantra.
His first few days on the job, and he’s fucked up royally, not once, but twice: first, he didn’t take the shot, didn’t think it was clear enough, it was so close he didn’t want to chance it… and because of that, Hillary Lumis died. Died on his watch.
And then, when he did take the shot-when it was one hundred percent clear, and couldn’t have made more sense from where he was standing, when he thought, goddamnit, that he was saving Branca’s life-
“Don’t,” she’d said to him, tight, eyes empty, turning her back when he tried to say something, anything to explain himself.
And now that he’s home-well, this place that, as of three days ago, became his home-he has nothing to do but re-live it over and over until he all he can wonder is, How the hell could I have been so stupid?
*
The call comes just as he’s on the verge of falling asleep after hours of fitful tossing and turning. It’s a sound he’s not accustomed to yet, and he hits his new phone a few times trying to snooze it before he realizes what’s going on.
“What?” He groans into it, after a minute, once he’s figured out where the hell the receiver is.
“Rivers. You weren’t sleeping, were you?”
“Gee, Creegan, why would I have been asleep?” He says dryly, glancing at the clock with a sigh. “It’s only three a.m., after all.”
“Only chumps are asleep at this time. And babies, I suppose.”
“If you just called for a late night hazing, Creegan, I gotta tell you. I got plenty at the office today.” Mark can feel his heart beating too fast underneath his wrist where it’s resting on his chest.
“I had some kind of purpose, at least, I did, but I may have forgotten, it is a little late, after all-hazing, huh? What, does little Rivers miss the boys at CIRG pampering him already?”
“Listen,” Mark snaps, sitting up, wholly unprepared to banter back with Creegan’s snide tone when his pulse is beating so loudly in his ears he can hardly hear the man. “I know I screwed up, all right? So if you’re done rubbing in my face, I’d like to try and get at least a few minutes of sleep here-”
“Rivers, Rivers, Rivers.”
Mark’s hand clenches at the base of his neck.
“That’s right. You’re right. No-I don’t mean. I mean that’s why I called you.”
“Because I screwed up?”
Creegan sighs, as if he’s talking to a child. “No. Of course you screwed up-kind of selfish to think you’re the only one that did.”
Mark laughs despite himself. “Noted.”
“I’ll write Hank a note so he’ll let you out at lunchtime so you can take a nap.”
“Aw, but I wanted to go out and play with all the other kids.”
“You eat all your broccoli like a good boy and we’ll see.”
Mark’s hand drops down to his thigh, and breathes again. “Yeah. Thanks, Creegan.”
“Don’t thank me. Show up tomorrow.”
“Bright and early.”
The line is silent for a minute-Mark can hear Creegan breathing on the other end, just a little too fast to be regular-but he’s too tired to think of anything else to say, so he starts to close the phone.
But then, faintly: “And hey, Rivers? If I were on your end of the glass, I’d have done the same.”
The line goes dead. Mark closes his eyes, and falls asleep within minutes, phone still pressed open-face to his chest.
A late night phone call might be just what the doctor ordered. (Coda to episode 1x05, Slash 30.)
Soothe
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mutters, condemning himself, over and over. He closes his eyes and hits his head back against the door he just shut in time with his mantra.
His first few days on the job, and he’s fucked up royally, not once, but twice: first, he didn’t take the shot, didn’t think it was clear enough, it was so close he didn’t want to chance it… and because of that, Hillary Lumis died. Died on his watch.
And then, when he did take the shot-when it was one hundred percent clear, and couldn’t have made more sense from where he was standing, when he thought, goddamnit, that he was saving Branca’s life-
“Don’t,” she’d said to him, tight, eyes empty, turning her back when he tried to say something, anything to explain himself.
And now that he’s home-well, this place that, as of three days ago, became his home-he has nothing to do but re-live it over and over until he all he can wonder is, How the hell could I have been so stupid?
*
The call comes just as he’s on the verge of falling asleep after hours of fitful tossing and turning. It’s a sound he’s not accustomed to yet, and he hits his new phone a few times trying to snooze it before he realizes what’s going on.
“What?” He groans into it, after a minute, once he’s figured out where the hell the receiver is.
“Rivers. You weren’t sleeping, were you?”
“Gee, Creegan, why would I have been asleep?” He says dryly, glancing at the clock with a sigh. “It’s only three a.m., after all.”
“Only chumps are asleep at this time. And babies, I suppose.”
“If you just called for a late night hazing, Creegan, I gotta tell you. I got plenty at the office today.” Mark can feel his heart beating too fast underneath his wrist where it’s resting on his chest.
“I had some kind of purpose, at least, I did, but I may have forgotten, it is a little late, after all-hazing, huh? What, does little Rivers miss the boys at CIRG pampering him already?”
“Listen,” Mark snaps, sitting up, wholly unprepared to banter back with Creegan’s snide tone when his pulse is beating so loudly in his ears he can hardly hear the man. “I know I screwed up, all right? So if you’re done rubbing in my face, I’d like to try and get at least a few minutes of sleep here-”
“Rivers, Rivers, Rivers.”
Mark’s hand clenches at the base of his neck.
“That’s right. You’re right. No-I don’t mean. I mean that’s why I called you.”
“Because I screwed up?”
Creegan sighs, as if he’s talking to a child. “No. Of course you screwed up-kind of selfish to think you’re the only one that did.”
Mark laughs despite himself. “Noted.”
“I’ll write Hank a note so he’ll let you out at lunchtime so you can take a nap.”
“Aw, but I wanted to go out and play with all the other kids.”
“You eat all your broccoli like a good boy and we’ll see.”
Mark’s hand drops down to his thigh, and breathes again. “Yeah. Thanks, Creegan.”
“Don’t thank me. Show up tomorrow.”
“Bright and early.”
The line is silent for a minute-Mark can hear Creegan breathing on the other end, just a little too fast to be regular-but he’s too tired to think of anything else to say, so he starts to close the phone.
But then, faintly: “And hey, Rivers? If I were on your end of the glass, I’d have done the same.”
The line goes dead. Mark closes his eyes, and falls asleep within minutes, phone still pressed open-face to his chest.