Fic: Shock and awe (1/2)
Title: Shock and awe
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden
Prompts: 006. Hours
Word Count: 2313
Rating: PG-13 (T)
Summary: There was blood on his trembling hands. Set post-series.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
SHOCK AND AWE
Part 1
There was blood on his trembling hands. Steve stared at them, still in shock, then turned his head to see the large pool of red fluid on the ground a few feet away. So much of it. It’d spilled over his hands even as he’d applied enough pressure to stop the circulation in his own fingers.
“Here you go, son.” Awkwardly, Thorne put a hand on his shoulder and held out a bundle of paper towels with the other. “Better wipe it off. We’re trying to find some fresh clothes for you too.”
The words wouldn’t quite register. Steve mechanically took the paper towels, but he couldn’t get his hands to stop shaking. His lungs didn’t work properly, his head was spinning, and he watched everything as if through a thick curtain of rain.
One of the crime scene forensic crew was putting down an evidence marker next to the pool of blood. Another went next to a scattered pile of spent bullets nearby. Then a bloody knife. Elsewhere, someone was snapping photos of two motionless bodies. The bright flash hurt his eyes, making his eyes water. More forensic crew appeared, putting things into evidence bags and cataloguing them. Fisk, Steve realised, was approaching him with two large ones.
“On your feet, son.” Thorne nudged him gently, practically helping him up from his paralysed position. The seasoned Inspector gestured to his office. “Let’s find you some privacy.”
Steve couldn’t take his eyes off the pool of blood, the paper towels clenched tightly in his still sticky hands. He strained his neck to look back all until Thorne had closed the door, leaving Steve and Fisk alone together in Thorne’s office.
“Hayden,” Fisk said evenly, clearly trying to regain his focus. His expression was professional. Or was it? Did he see some waver in Fisk’s gaze as he surveyed the stains on Steve’s suit and shirt? “I’m afraid you’ll have to take them off. Shoes too.”
His hands were bloody, Steve realised again. He tried to pat away the stickiness with the paper towels, then let Fisk take them away before removing his clothes, one item at a time. It barely felt real, though. For each, Fisk slipped them into his large evidence bags, already tagged, with barely a change in his expression. As if this was just another crime scene, another set of victims, another perpetrator like any other.
Except it wasn’t. This was home. This was his people. That pool of blood belonged to his partner. It wasn’t another case. And as he realised that, Steve felt his chest begin to heave, struggling to get enough oxygen. He gasped, an inhuman sound, and forgot all about taking off his sullied clothes.
“She’ll be all right, Hayden, just breathe.” Fisk’s hand was on his shoulder, his voice still even, still professional. “Deep breaths. Come on now. Sit down. Deep, even breaths. She’ll be all right.” The voice grew extremely quiet, a slight waver in it as the hand on his shoulder grabbed it tightly. “She’ll be all right.”
Half-mindedly following the senior sergeant’s instructions, Steve looked down at his hands again. He saw how they’d wrenched aside her jacket, how they’d pushed down on the stomach wound, and how they’d felt so completely useless. The blood had just kept spilling past his fingers. Her face had turned white and her eyes had rolled almost to the back of her head. For a moment, she’d stopped breathing.
Steve couldn’t hold it back anymore. He broke down on Thorne’s couch with Fisk’s hand clenching his shoulder tightly.
***
The world was a painless, befuddled place. Tessa’s eyes opened, winced at the sharp light, and closed again. Sound was dulled. All she could grasp was that there was motion around her and something sticking into her nose. She tried to raise her hand to bat it away, but her body wouldn’t respond. It was so heavy. Like an anchor pulling her down into the ocean deep.
Someone kept her back, though. She felt a weight on her hand, encompassing it fully in a tight squeeze. Two hands, both larger than hers. Warm. Comforting.
“-ssa.” Someone was caressing her cheek now. Same warmth, same comfort. It beckoned to her, called her home.
Tiredly, Tessa opened her eyes again. The light was dimmed, but a face began to appear in the fog. A male face. Wide eyes. Creased eyebrows. Tense lip. It was leaning close to her, she realised, and it belonged to the hand covering hers.
When their gazes finally met, a smile broke out on his face. He didn’t seem to be able to stop himself. He leaned forward with a soft kiss to her forehead and the muttered “Oh sweetheart” on his lips.
Tessa leaned into his warmth and swallowed, trying to speak, but her throat wouldn’t work properly. Only guttural sounds came out, and he quickly hushed her with another kiss and a squeeze of her hand.
“Just take it easy,” he said quietly as he caressed her cheek and brushed back her hair with his soft palm. “No need to rush it. You’re on some pretty strong pain medication.”
“I’m-” she managed before needing to cough, causing the nasal cannula to scrape the insides of her nostrils and start itching. She couldn’t raise her hand, though, and frowned uncomfortably for a moment. After the itch passed, she returned her gaze to Steve and blinked tiredly. “What-?”
“You’re in hospital,” Steve whispered, his face really close to hers, his voice tender. It confused her. Why was he like that? What had happened? “You were shot and you’ve had surgery. But you’ll be fine now.” He squeezed her hand again, his voice almost hoarse. “You’re going to be fine, Tess.”
“Stv…” She didn’t manage to say his name properly, but he leaned closer even so, his caresses doubled.
“Just take it easy,” he said again. “Get some sleep. I’ll be here.”
For some reason, she didn’t question that again. Instead, the weight pulled her down into the ocean deep and she was off.
***
Steve stared at his now clean hands as he waited for the coffee machine to finish brewing his cup. They didn’t feel right. He didn’t feel right. Which was strange, because he’d never been this affected before. Not since he’d been shot three years ago, and at the time he’d been the victim. He wasn’t the victim now, and yet…he didn’t feel right.
Shaking his head, he took his cup of coffee and drifted back down the sterile corridors where the stench of antiseptics caused his stomach to churn uncomfortably. He hated that smell, even before he’d been shot. He hated the fact that there hadn’t been a year yet where he could’ve avoided the smell altogether. One way or another, he’d wound up back here.
This time was the worst. Hours had felt like days. Maybe even weeks. The chairs in the waiting room had been harder than usual. The antiseptic smell had been stronger than before. The coffee was even more tasteless than last time. He drank two sips and then deposited it in a nearby trashcan, grimacing.
And he kept going back to his hands. To the sight of blood on them. To the white face just to his right. To the terrible, excruciating, heart-breaking feeling that every spilled drop was taking her further away from him. That this time, she’d actually-
No.
He couldn’t torture himself like this. Steve balled his hands into fists and let his fingernails dig into his palms. His jaw clenched, his teeth gnashed against each other. His neck was taut as a wire and so was he. His paces became brisker until he stalked down the corridor and didn’t know where he was anymore.
So there, in a corner of an unknown corridor of an unknown ward, he let his frustration out on a piece of wall. He restrained a yell, but he punched the wall until the skin of his knuckles split and the sight of blood snapped him out of it. Then, forcing his hammering heart and heaving breaths under control, he stalked back until he found familiar ground and sat in the darkness of Tessa’s ICU room until he was chased out at the end of visiting hours by one of the nurses.
The nurse took pity on him and bandaged his knuckles without asking any questions. Steve wondered if that made him an open book. He’d always been a closed one. And he knew the significance of this. Knew he’d overstepped some invisible lines earlier when Tessa had regained consciousness for a little while.
And he knew a part of him hoped that Tessa wouldn’t forget it in her pain medication-induced haze. He knew he wanted to do it again. Over and over again. As long as she wanted him to. If she wanted him to.
***
Tessa couldn’t explain it, but she knew something had changed. Not the incident that’d landed her here or the gunshot wound, nor the walking-on-eggshells or mother-hen appearance of Tootsie, Dee, Fisk and Thorne.
No, Steve was the one who’d changed. The look in his eyes when she caught him staring at her. The quickness with which he turned his head away. The awkwardness in which he stood next to her bed, hands dug deep in his pockets. He looked as if he’d lost something, as if he wanted something, and Tessa didn’t know how to respond to that.
There was a vague sensation that she should know, but whenever she saw him, she became so embarrassed. She could barely hold his gaze, make jokes with him, or act anything like her usual self. It felt like the time he’d been shot and yet not exactly the same. She’d felt guilty back then, and she thought maybe he felt guilty now, but it didn’t feel like the whole truth.
All she knew was that it was a hunch, and usually her hunches panned out…but she didn’t know what that meant in this case.
“Steve,” she eventually tried during his fourth visit, after a long awkward silence that felt thicker than concrete. “There’s nothing to feel guilty about. You know that, right?” She tilted her head up, almost scared to meet his gaze. “No one could’ve foreseen this, and we did the best we could under the circumstances.”
Steve stood staring out through the window, his gaze faraway and distant. In mere seconds, though, his expression hardened and he pulled away from the window to step closer to her bed.
“I know.” His voice low, his deep dark orbs finally met her eyes, which caused her heart to skip a beat. “I know, Tess.”
Tessa’s eyes welled up with unshed tears. “So what is it?”
He didn’t answer, looking conflicted.
“There’s something on your mind. It’s weighing you down, I can see it.” Tessa attempted a smile, but it trembled and broke when Steve looked down at his hands with a heavy unspoken sigh. “If it’s about me… I’m fine now.” She hesitated, not sure whether her hunch was right. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Steve looked up at her and the emotions swirling in his eyes drove the breath out of her chest. The atmosphere crackled with energy. It felt thick, electrifying, and Tessa became light-headed. Her heart beat faster, her hands began to tremble inexplicably, but she couldn’t pull her gaze away from his. He fixed her in place…until he reached out with an uncertain hand, its knuckles bruised and red, and brushed away an errant lock of hair.
Her heart jumped. Hardly breathing, Tessa watched him watch her, her trembles increasing in strength until she was shivering all over.
Warmth. Comfort. Safe…
Closing her eyes, blood pounding in her veins, Tessa leaned into his palm and nuzzled her nose against his hot skin.
“I thought I’d lost you,” Steve whispered, his voice strangely strangled. She felt him move, the electric current in the air intensifying, and her eyes fluttered open to see him and only him. “I don’t want to feel that way again. I-”
He swallowed visibly, licking his lips, and Tessa found herself licking hers too. His gaze snapped down to the innocuous action and she felt as if a heatwave crashed over her. Before she fully realised what was happening, he’d leaned down and brushed his lips across hers.
Just a gentle brush, slightly open-mouthed, expelling hot air and uncertainty that overpowered the senses that’d been dulled by pain medication. But she was like a magnet. As he began to pull away, she went with him and let her lips linger slightly longer, just to draw it out. After a moment, their gazes met and Tessa licked her lips again.
Perhaps it was enough as an invitation. Steve leaned down again, adding more pressure this time, and Tessa felt her hands sneak up his neck to the back of his head to guide him. Gradually, her confidence grew and she pushed back, the softness of his lips intoxicating her, each kiss assuring her that this felt right. This was what was supposed to happen. And Steve’s hesitance disappeared too, and his fingers curled around her jaw, trailing slowly down her neck, digging gently into her skin.
It felt like hours, but was probably merely minutes or less. Tessa was all flushed and hot when they finally drew apart, and though she didn’t pull him back for another kiss, she couldn’t let go of him. He had to sit down, her hand caressing his five o’clock shadow, his brushing softly across her other hand, their eyes locked.
“So what now?” She finally asked, her voice hushed.
“Now…I should probably take you on a date.” A slightly shy smile crossed his lips. “A proper one.”
Tessa smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”
FIN? No! Part 2 suddenly appeared...
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa Vance, Steve Hayden
Prompts: 006. Hours
Word Count: 2313
Rating: PG-13 (T)
Summary: There was blood on his trembling hands. Set post-series.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.
SHOCK AND AWE
Part 1
There was blood on his trembling hands. Steve stared at them, still in shock, then turned his head to see the large pool of red fluid on the ground a few feet away. So much of it. It’d spilled over his hands even as he’d applied enough pressure to stop the circulation in his own fingers.
“Here you go, son.” Awkwardly, Thorne put a hand on his shoulder and held out a bundle of paper towels with the other. “Better wipe it off. We’re trying to find some fresh clothes for you too.”
The words wouldn’t quite register. Steve mechanically took the paper towels, but he couldn’t get his hands to stop shaking. His lungs didn’t work properly, his head was spinning, and he watched everything as if through a thick curtain of rain.
One of the crime scene forensic crew was putting down an evidence marker next to the pool of blood. Another went next to a scattered pile of spent bullets nearby. Then a bloody knife. Elsewhere, someone was snapping photos of two motionless bodies. The bright flash hurt his eyes, making his eyes water. More forensic crew appeared, putting things into evidence bags and cataloguing them. Fisk, Steve realised, was approaching him with two large ones.
“On your feet, son.” Thorne nudged him gently, practically helping him up from his paralysed position. The seasoned Inspector gestured to his office. “Let’s find you some privacy.”
Steve couldn’t take his eyes off the pool of blood, the paper towels clenched tightly in his still sticky hands. He strained his neck to look back all until Thorne had closed the door, leaving Steve and Fisk alone together in Thorne’s office.
“Hayden,” Fisk said evenly, clearly trying to regain his focus. His expression was professional. Or was it? Did he see some waver in Fisk’s gaze as he surveyed the stains on Steve’s suit and shirt? “I’m afraid you’ll have to take them off. Shoes too.”
His hands were bloody, Steve realised again. He tried to pat away the stickiness with the paper towels, then let Fisk take them away before removing his clothes, one item at a time. It barely felt real, though. For each, Fisk slipped them into his large evidence bags, already tagged, with barely a change in his expression. As if this was just another crime scene, another set of victims, another perpetrator like any other.
Except it wasn’t. This was home. This was his people. That pool of blood belonged to his partner. It wasn’t another case. And as he realised that, Steve felt his chest begin to heave, struggling to get enough oxygen. He gasped, an inhuman sound, and forgot all about taking off his sullied clothes.
“She’ll be all right, Hayden, just breathe.” Fisk’s hand was on his shoulder, his voice still even, still professional. “Deep breaths. Come on now. Sit down. Deep, even breaths. She’ll be all right.” The voice grew extremely quiet, a slight waver in it as the hand on his shoulder grabbed it tightly. “She’ll be all right.”
Half-mindedly following the senior sergeant’s instructions, Steve looked down at his hands again. He saw how they’d wrenched aside her jacket, how they’d pushed down on the stomach wound, and how they’d felt so completely useless. The blood had just kept spilling past his fingers. Her face had turned white and her eyes had rolled almost to the back of her head. For a moment, she’d stopped breathing.
Steve couldn’t hold it back anymore. He broke down on Thorne’s couch with Fisk’s hand clenching his shoulder tightly.
***
The world was a painless, befuddled place. Tessa’s eyes opened, winced at the sharp light, and closed again. Sound was dulled. All she could grasp was that there was motion around her and something sticking into her nose. She tried to raise her hand to bat it away, but her body wouldn’t respond. It was so heavy. Like an anchor pulling her down into the ocean deep.
Someone kept her back, though. She felt a weight on her hand, encompassing it fully in a tight squeeze. Two hands, both larger than hers. Warm. Comforting.
“-ssa.” Someone was caressing her cheek now. Same warmth, same comfort. It beckoned to her, called her home.
Tiredly, Tessa opened her eyes again. The light was dimmed, but a face began to appear in the fog. A male face. Wide eyes. Creased eyebrows. Tense lip. It was leaning close to her, she realised, and it belonged to the hand covering hers.
When their gazes finally met, a smile broke out on his face. He didn’t seem to be able to stop himself. He leaned forward with a soft kiss to her forehead and the muttered “Oh sweetheart” on his lips.
Tessa leaned into his warmth and swallowed, trying to speak, but her throat wouldn’t work properly. Only guttural sounds came out, and he quickly hushed her with another kiss and a squeeze of her hand.
“Just take it easy,” he said quietly as he caressed her cheek and brushed back her hair with his soft palm. “No need to rush it. You’re on some pretty strong pain medication.”
“I’m-” she managed before needing to cough, causing the nasal cannula to scrape the insides of her nostrils and start itching. She couldn’t raise her hand, though, and frowned uncomfortably for a moment. After the itch passed, she returned her gaze to Steve and blinked tiredly. “What-?”
“You’re in hospital,” Steve whispered, his face really close to hers, his voice tender. It confused her. Why was he like that? What had happened? “You were shot and you’ve had surgery. But you’ll be fine now.” He squeezed her hand again, his voice almost hoarse. “You’re going to be fine, Tess.”
“Stv…” She didn’t manage to say his name properly, but he leaned closer even so, his caresses doubled.
“Just take it easy,” he said again. “Get some sleep. I’ll be here.”
For some reason, she didn’t question that again. Instead, the weight pulled her down into the ocean deep and she was off.
***
Steve stared at his now clean hands as he waited for the coffee machine to finish brewing his cup. They didn’t feel right. He didn’t feel right. Which was strange, because he’d never been this affected before. Not since he’d been shot three years ago, and at the time he’d been the victim. He wasn’t the victim now, and yet…he didn’t feel right.
Shaking his head, he took his cup of coffee and drifted back down the sterile corridors where the stench of antiseptics caused his stomach to churn uncomfortably. He hated that smell, even before he’d been shot. He hated the fact that there hadn’t been a year yet where he could’ve avoided the smell altogether. One way or another, he’d wound up back here.
This time was the worst. Hours had felt like days. Maybe even weeks. The chairs in the waiting room had been harder than usual. The antiseptic smell had been stronger than before. The coffee was even more tasteless than last time. He drank two sips and then deposited it in a nearby trashcan, grimacing.
And he kept going back to his hands. To the sight of blood on them. To the white face just to his right. To the terrible, excruciating, heart-breaking feeling that every spilled drop was taking her further away from him. That this time, she’d actually-
No.
He couldn’t torture himself like this. Steve balled his hands into fists and let his fingernails dig into his palms. His jaw clenched, his teeth gnashed against each other. His neck was taut as a wire and so was he. His paces became brisker until he stalked down the corridor and didn’t know where he was anymore.
So there, in a corner of an unknown corridor of an unknown ward, he let his frustration out on a piece of wall. He restrained a yell, but he punched the wall until the skin of his knuckles split and the sight of blood snapped him out of it. Then, forcing his hammering heart and heaving breaths under control, he stalked back until he found familiar ground and sat in the darkness of Tessa’s ICU room until he was chased out at the end of visiting hours by one of the nurses.
The nurse took pity on him and bandaged his knuckles without asking any questions. Steve wondered if that made him an open book. He’d always been a closed one. And he knew the significance of this. Knew he’d overstepped some invisible lines earlier when Tessa had regained consciousness for a little while.
And he knew a part of him hoped that Tessa wouldn’t forget it in her pain medication-induced haze. He knew he wanted to do it again. Over and over again. As long as she wanted him to. If she wanted him to.
***
Tessa couldn’t explain it, but she knew something had changed. Not the incident that’d landed her here or the gunshot wound, nor the walking-on-eggshells or mother-hen appearance of Tootsie, Dee, Fisk and Thorne.
No, Steve was the one who’d changed. The look in his eyes when she caught him staring at her. The quickness with which he turned his head away. The awkwardness in which he stood next to her bed, hands dug deep in his pockets. He looked as if he’d lost something, as if he wanted something, and Tessa didn’t know how to respond to that.
There was a vague sensation that she should know, but whenever she saw him, she became so embarrassed. She could barely hold his gaze, make jokes with him, or act anything like her usual self. It felt like the time he’d been shot and yet not exactly the same. She’d felt guilty back then, and she thought maybe he felt guilty now, but it didn’t feel like the whole truth.
All she knew was that it was a hunch, and usually her hunches panned out…but she didn’t know what that meant in this case.
“Steve,” she eventually tried during his fourth visit, after a long awkward silence that felt thicker than concrete. “There’s nothing to feel guilty about. You know that, right?” She tilted her head up, almost scared to meet his gaze. “No one could’ve foreseen this, and we did the best we could under the circumstances.”
Steve stood staring out through the window, his gaze faraway and distant. In mere seconds, though, his expression hardened and he pulled away from the window to step closer to her bed.
“I know.” His voice low, his deep dark orbs finally met her eyes, which caused her heart to skip a beat. “I know, Tess.”
Tessa’s eyes welled up with unshed tears. “So what is it?”
He didn’t answer, looking conflicted.
“There’s something on your mind. It’s weighing you down, I can see it.” Tessa attempted a smile, but it trembled and broke when Steve looked down at his hands with a heavy unspoken sigh. “If it’s about me… I’m fine now.” She hesitated, not sure whether her hunch was right. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Steve looked up at her and the emotions swirling in his eyes drove the breath out of her chest. The atmosphere crackled with energy. It felt thick, electrifying, and Tessa became light-headed. Her heart beat faster, her hands began to tremble inexplicably, but she couldn’t pull her gaze away from his. He fixed her in place…until he reached out with an uncertain hand, its knuckles bruised and red, and brushed away an errant lock of hair.
Her heart jumped. Hardly breathing, Tessa watched him watch her, her trembles increasing in strength until she was shivering all over.
Warmth. Comfort. Safe…
Closing her eyes, blood pounding in her veins, Tessa leaned into his palm and nuzzled her nose against his hot skin.
“I thought I’d lost you,” Steve whispered, his voice strangely strangled. She felt him move, the electric current in the air intensifying, and her eyes fluttered open to see him and only him. “I don’t want to feel that way again. I-”
He swallowed visibly, licking his lips, and Tessa found herself licking hers too. His gaze snapped down to the innocuous action and she felt as if a heatwave crashed over her. Before she fully realised what was happening, he’d leaned down and brushed his lips across hers.
Just a gentle brush, slightly open-mouthed, expelling hot air and uncertainty that overpowered the senses that’d been dulled by pain medication. But she was like a magnet. As he began to pull away, she went with him and let her lips linger slightly longer, just to draw it out. After a moment, their gazes met and Tessa licked her lips again.
Perhaps it was enough as an invitation. Steve leaned down again, adding more pressure this time, and Tessa felt her hands sneak up his neck to the back of his head to guide him. Gradually, her confidence grew and she pushed back, the softness of his lips intoxicating her, each kiss assuring her that this felt right. This was what was supposed to happen. And Steve’s hesitance disappeared too, and his fingers curled around her jaw, trailing slowly down her neck, digging gently into her skin.
It felt like hours, but was probably merely minutes or less. Tessa was all flushed and hot when they finally drew apart, and though she didn’t pull him back for another kiss, she couldn’t let go of him. He had to sit down, her hand caressing his five o’clock shadow, his brushing softly across her other hand, their eyes locked.
“So what now?” She finally asked, her voice hushed.
“Now…I should probably take you on a date.” A slightly shy smile crossed his lips. “A proper one.”
Tessa smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”
FIN? No! Part 2 suddenly appeared...