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You saw it on your way home from work, the hanging of the ladder from that old worn out treehouse, pulling your earphones out and letting them dangle over your scarf. Curious, you walked to the yard instead of the front door, dropping your bag at the foot of the tree and climbing up.
“Well, hello there,” you said, smiling fondly at Derek Morgan sitting with his back against the wall in a dark suit.
He smiled at you, a lot weaker than the charming smile that had won you over in a heartbeat as kids. “Hey, you,” he replied as you took a seat beside him.
“I haven’t been back up here in years,” you confessed, deciding not to press him too much. Not yet, anyway.
“I can’t believe it’s still here,” Derek said with a huff, looking around at the walls while you look at him properly.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it the other night,” you told him. “ER was completely filled, they needed all hands. I even bought your mom a present and everything.”
“Probably for the best,” Derek said. “Gordinski showed up.”
“That ass?” you asked, instantly frowning. “What’d he want this time? A pound of flesh?”
“You remember that kid I found?” Derek asked you. “The one we collected money for a funeral?”
“How could I forget?” you replied softly.
“He thought I had something to do with it.”
“The hell?” you demanded, growing more pissed with every word that came out of Derek’s mouth. “We were like, 12!”
“Yeah, well, he arrested me,” Derek said bitterly. “My boss found out, brought the whole team down to figure out what was going on.”
You frowned at him, shifting to look at him properly, legs crossed like you’re in the fourth grade again. “Der, what aren’t you telling me?” you asked, tone concerned.
“They found out about Carl,” Derek said weakly. “About the lake and the cabin and all of it.”
“Fuck,” you swore quietly and Derek hit his head against the wall, eyes closed like he was trying not to cry.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to go home,” Derek said. “I don’t think I have it in me to lie to her anymore.”
And everything slotted into place – the suit, the fact that he’s in this old treehouse, the fatigue in his fucking soul.
“What do you want to do?” you asked softly. “We can sit here and talk, I can make up a spare room for you… I’m here, however you want me.”
Derek’s hand found yours, slipping into it like a key in a lock. “Just sit here with me?”
You pressed his knuckles to your lips and scooted over so you’re both shoulder to shoulder. “Course.”