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“If Potts didn’t kill Erin McMenamin, who did?”
“Are we any closer to finding whoever’s responsible?”
“What is the Easttown Police Department doing to keep our children safe while the killer is found?”
“Is Detective Sheehan working in these conditions or will the county send a replacement for her?”
Colin squeezes his eyes closed, trying to drown out the questions stuck in his mind by opening the faucet and letting the cool water run over his shaky hands.
The press conference that morning had been brutal. Of course, he understands why everyone is so desperate for answers, so frantically trying to figure out what is happening in the case, but it has barely been three weeks since they’d found Katie Bailey and Missy Sager in that tavern, and they have wounds to show for it.
It’s a miracle they’re alive.
They’d gotten extremely lucky, and Colin knows it.
When Potts had turned, gun in hand, and fired…if Mare had been an inch closer, or if he had hesitated a second more before shooting him back…they wouldn’t have survived.
He barely registers the bullet until he sees Mare falling to her knees beside him. He’s been taught what to do in this situation a thousand times, but he’s never needed to use that knowledge while on the field.
Adrenaline is pumping through his veins, and he aims at Potts’ chest, firing his own gun.
Colin shudders, the memory of holding Mare’s bleeding body enough to make him nauseous.
He drops the gun, immediately rushing towards Mare. She gasps when he moves her, cursing under her breath. The bullet hit her side, and she’s bleeding profusely. Her flannel is already soaked, and he wants to scream, cry, curse, and pray, all at the same time.
He presses his palm against the wound, trying to stop the flow, and begs her to hold on while he calls for help. Mare shakes, grasping his arm, and manages to whisper his name before losing consciousness.
“Colin”, she’d said, while laying on that dirty linoleum floor, as life slipped away from her. “Colin.”
“Colin, are you in there?”
A gentle knock on the restroom door follows, thankfully dragging him out of his mental spiral.
Mare.
He turns off the faucet, and clumsily dries his hands on his pants before opening the door.
She’s leaning against the doorway, and another pang of guilt hits him at the exhaustion in her expression. He can see the outline of the bandage she’s wearing under her shirt, and, although she looks a lot better now that she’s out of the hospital, it will take some time for her to fully get back to normal.
“Mare, hi,” Colin’s surprised to see her at the station. He has been dropping by her place almost every day since she’d been discharged, both to keep an eye on her and to keep her up to date with Erin’s case. “Uh, what are you…why are you here?”
She lifts her hand, showing him her badge. “Came to pick this up.”
Colin frowns, fully stepping out of the restroom. “Please tell me you didn’t drive yourself here. Did you talk to your doctors? I thought your check-up was this Friday. Have you-”
Mare cuts him off, clearly having expected his reaction to her presence. “Siobhan dropped me off. And yes, my check-up is this Friday. Believe it or not…” She walks down the hallway, pushing the door to her office open. He walks in, closing the door after himself. “...I do realize I almost died. I’m not ready to return to the field, not yet. I just want to pick up some files.”
“Mare,” Colin knows that she hates being babied, and she’s the most stubborn person he knows, but his concern for her is greater than all of the barriers she keeps trying to put up between them. “You shouldn’t be working at all, not even with files. You should be home, recovering.”
“I’m fine, Zabel,” Mare huffs, grimacing a bit as she sits down. He’s by her side in a moment, but she brushes him off. “Really. I mean it.”
He sighs, knowing it’s impossible to convince her. “Have you taken your medicines?”
She nods, pulling some folders from the desk’s drawers.
“All of them?”
“Jesus, Zabel, you really worry all the time,” She mutters. “Yes, I have.”
Colin crosses his arms, watching her grab her files. He’s still a bit shaken, and more than a bit annoyed by how little she cares about her own well-being, but at least he can check on her this way.
“What?”
“What?” He replies, hoping she can’t notice his still shaking hands.
“Why are you still standing there?” Mare clarifies, glancing at him.
Colin can’t help but feel a slight pang at her words. “Waiting for you.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Waiting for me to do what?”
“Waiting for you to grab those files you wanted to get. I’m driving you home.”
Mare’s blue eyes meet his brown ones, a scowl on her face. “No, thanks. I’ll stay here for a while.”
It takes all his effort to restrain himself. “Mare…”
“You’re not my fucking boss, Zabel,” She’s never been the kindest, and he’s well aware of it, but things changed that day when she got shot, whether she wants to admit it or not, and he cannot let her harm herself, not when he’s now hopelessly intertwined to her. “I’m staying.”
“Can you give a fuck about yourself for once?!” Colin explodes, raising his voice at her, something he’s never dared to do before. Her eyes widen, and she drops a folder to the floor. “Or, at the very least, can you fucking care about those that care about you?!”
Mare was clearly caught off guard. “Colin…”
“Do you know what I…what your family went through? Seeing you on that fucking hospital bed, not knowing if you were going to wake up?!” He yells at her. “You almost died, Mare! You almost died!” He pushes past the lump in his throat. “And now you’re risking your health because you can’t fucking stay still for a week?! Fucking bullshit!”
“I…” She tries speaking again.
“I almost lost you!” Tears are burning in his eyes, and suddenly he’s crying about everything: the case, the failed date, her injury, his fear, his nightmares. “I cannot fucking see you get hurt again! Why the fuck is that so difficult for you to understand?! Why can’t you just fucking stay home, where you’re safe?!”
“Because I’m fucking scared, goddamnit!” She snaps, standing up. “I’m terrified shitless, alright?! That’s why!”
Colin stops yelling, not having expected her words. Tears are still streaming down his face, and he’s shocked to see Mare’s also tearing up.
He’s never seen her cry.
“Scared?”
“I saw that fucking press conference this morning,” She wipes at her face. “They’re talking about replacing me.”
He scoffs, and she immediately glares at him. “I’m being fucking serious!”
“Replace you? Mare, who would want to replace you?” Colin takes a step closer, uneasy at her emotional turmoil.
She laughs dry. “ Everyone . They haven’t trusted me for years,” She gestures at the window, towards the street. Towards her people. “They’re just looking for an excuse to get me out of here, and now they have it,” She touches her side, where her wound is. “I’m fucked.”
Colin frowns. “That can’t be true, Mare. Come on. You’re a hero! You just found two missing girls, damn it! No one is going to replace you!”
“You heard them, Colin,” She sounds defeated, dropping back down to her chair and covering her face with her palms. “They want someone that can work. Someone…someone like you. Young. Healthy.”
“Hey, don’t say that. You can work, you’re just recovering now. You’ll be back on your feet in no time,” His anger has faded slightly as his worry increases.
He’s been so focused on her physical well-being that he hasn’t given much thought to her mental state, something he’s greatly regretting at the moment.
Mare’s shoulders shake, and her quiet cries fill the room. “I can’t lose this job,” She sobs, and it feels like she’s squeezing his heart in her palms, little cracks appearing on the weakened surface of his soul. “This job is my life. It’s all I’m good at. I’m…I’m no one without it.”
Colin swallows, kneeling next to her chair. “Mare, listen to me,” He places a hand on her shoulder. “Can you look at me?”
She lifts her head slightly after a bit, and the pain in her eyes makes her look both younger and older simultaneously: an exhausted woman, tired of all the devastation and heartbreak, more than anyone is equipped to deal with.
Colin wants to protect her with every single fibre of his being.
“You’re…you’re the soul of this station,” He tells her. “You’re the most brave, smart, and strong detective I’ve ever known, okay? You’re…this station needs you. I need you. I need to keep learning from you, to keep being your partner.” Everything he’s telling her is true, even the parts he’d never thought he’d say out loud. “You’re not getting replaced, Mare.”
She sniffles sadly, wiping her tears away. “You’re too kind for your own good, Colin.”
Every time she says his name, Colin thinks, is a miracle.
“Listen, let’s get you out of here, okay? Grab your files, I’ll drive you home and we can…I don’t know, do whatever. Have some food. Or discuss the case, whatever you want. I just want you to rest, alright?”
Mare takes a few deep breaths. “Yeah, alright.”
Colin feels the glances of their coworkers when they leave the station half an hour later, hand in hand, but he couldn’t care less.
He doesn’t know what this is, if Mare wants him as a friend, a partner, or as something else.
For the first time since they met, he doesn’t care, as long as he gets to be near her.
Their lives will never be quite the same as they were before the shooting, but his mental crisis seems more manageable with her hand in his, and that has got to mean something.
As long as she lets him, he’ll hold on.