Chapter Text
Molly’s was busy for a Thursday night. The bar was a beautiful little hole in the wall; with a stunning antique door and an atmosphere that made Detective Katrina Thompson feel right at home. Fairy lights hung from the ceiling casting a magical, ambident glow over the patrons as they drank. There was the usual mix tonight, firefighters, medical personnel and a couple of cops littering the bar. The place was a deemed a safe haven for those who interacted with the general public.
Her gaze came to rest on the bartender at the opposite end of the bar, that genial smile on his handsome features as he served up two long island ice teas to a leggy redhead and a buxom brunette.
“You should tell him how you feel,” Detective Antonio Dawson told her, shifting slightly on his bar stool as he sipped from a glass of club soda. “I’ve seen the guys you ‘date’ and trust me, Otis would be a big step up.”
Kat rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to her partner.
“It’s sickening. You moon over him, he moons over you but the two of you are too stubborn to do anything about it,” Antonio drained the rest before setting it back down on the bar. “It’s the type of shit romance movies are made of.”
“You’re just so bloody funny,” Kat snarked, smacking him with the back of her hands. “We can’t all be blissfully married.”
“Speaking of which…” Antonio clicked the button on his phone so that the screen lit up. “Maggie’s getting off shift soon and I promised to meet her. You good?”
“Sure,” Kat said, holding up her glass of bourbon, ice cubes clacking together as she swirled it. “I’m just gonna finish this before I head home.”
Antonio’s hand clasped her shoulder with a force that almost left her choking on her drink before he cupped his hand around his mouth and hollered across the bar.
“Otis!” he called out before jabbing his finger at her. “Make sure Kat gets home safe.”
Brian raised his hand in acknowledgement before filling a glass with ice and using the tap to fill it.
“You are such an asshole,” Kat told Antonio, who simply smirked as he shrugged his shoulders.
“You can thank me later,” Antonio said, picking his phone and keys up off the bar before heading towards the door.
He was an asshole; he was also the best partner she’d ever had.
It was cold in the courtyard behind Molly’s, cold enough for Kat to fasten her navy-blue quilted jacket all the way up to her throat as she lit the cigarette that was hanging between her lips.
Beside her Brian leaned against the wall of the bar, watching the smoke circles he had blown drift off into the cool breeze.
“You wanna talk about it?” Kat asked him as he took another drag of the cigarette, the smoke bellowing out of his nose.
“Got nothing to talk about,” He stated, alternating back to smoke rings.
The left side of her mouth quirked up as she angled her body to face him.
“Liar.”
He shrugged his shoulder in response, his gaze still focusing on the spirals wisping from his cigarette.
“Are you getting any sleep?” She asked him, taking in the deep purple shadows underneath those whiskey-coloured eyes. He’d been working most evenings at Molly’s every time he wasn’t on shift for the firehouse, she couldn’t remember the last time he had taken a day off.
“Some.”
“Snatching a nap between shifts doesn’t count.” She told him, studying the profile of his face as he dropped the cigarette butt to the ground and crushed it underneath his shoe. “You talking to anyone?”
“If I do that it goes on my record, and no one wants a firefighter who can’t keep his shit together.” He removing another cigarette from the pack and tapping the end against the cardboard.
“If you don’t do it, you’re the guy who crashes the fire truck because he fell asleep at the wheel.” She pointed out with a ruthlessness she refused to curb.
“Jesus.” He muttered, leaning his head back against the wall and raising his eyes skyward. “You’re a fucking ray of sunshine, you know that?”
“Go private.” She advised, letting the smoke fill up her lungs before she exhaled slowly. “I know Doctor Charles makes a few exceptions.”
Brian looked at her then, really looked at her. The intensity of his gaze was disconcerting. She didn’t want him to look at her like she was broken, to slip underneath the mask and see the damage that resided under there.
He looked at her then, really looked at her. She said nothing focusing on the cigarette and blowing
“You think you’re the only one that’s ever needed a little bit of help?” She said wryly.
“Did it help?” He asked her thoughtfully, tapping out a rhythm on the box that as he toyed with cigarette.
“I’m still here,” she reminded him.
“Was it that bad?” He asked her quietly.
Kat thought about that time, the one where she stood on the bridge and looked down at the river swirling underneath her feet. She remembered thinking how good it would feel to simply step into the water and get swept away with the tide. After Eve she had been drowning anyway. However, something pulled her back, she knew now that it was rage, the knowing that if she didn’t do something that no one else would. It had smouldered deep down inside of her, simmering like coal in a fireplace as it burned white hot.
“Once.” She told Brian, tilting her head to scrutinize him. “Is it getting that way?”
Brian paused, his dark eyebrows furrowing as he ran a hand across his jaw. He pored over his last few shifts, then the weeks, the months, the years. He couldn’t pinpoint when this feeling had started, when he’d started to suffocate. He just knew there were days when it felt like he couldn’t breathe, that he would be crushed underneath the weight he carried, that he would choke and die in the wreckage of his own mind. He wanted to lie to reassure her, but Kat was the one person he couldn’t lie to. She saw through him in the way that others didn’t. He knew she was handing him a lifeline, a way to talk without delving into the problem itself and he appreciated that more than he cared to admit because it was still all too raw. He felt like his skin was being flayed off every time he thought about it.
“It might do.” He conceded.
“You taking more risks?” She asked him.
Was he? He wasn’t sure anymore. He thought about the last close call he’d had, when that beam had fallen down and knocked him on his ass. As he lay on the floor watching the fire cascade across the ceiling, he debated simply giving up the fight. If he died in the fire, it would all be over, he would have died a hero, he wouldn’t have to battle against the demons that ate him up inside. Then he thought of the guys back at the firehouse. Of Cruz who would be broken apart by the loss, of his family, and finally he thought of Kat. Kat and that dynamic smile of hers, Kat and the things he’s never got to say.
“Maybe.” He admitted as the realisation dawned on him.
There was silence between the two of them as he absorbed that information. The knowledge was jarring, chaotic and smashing through everything he thought he knew about himself.
“Look,” Kat began, her eyes meeting his as she reached out and clasped his hand.
Her fingers were freezing, they dug into the flesh of his hand dragging him back to the present with such a bump it startled him.
“If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me.”
There was an earnestness in her eyes, and something else underneath that he couldn’t interpret. Right now, he didn’t have the energy to try, that numbness was filling him all over again. He recognized it this time, the icy tendrils seeping under his skin, digging its claws into his head. He needed help because at some point, he wasn’t going to get back up, he was just going to sit down and let the whole world burn.
“Alright.” He said softly, putting that cigarette back into the packet. “I’ll give Doctor Charles a call tomorrow.”