Chapter Text
“1-Adam-12, 1-Adam-12, 211 in progress, 1352 Gallagher Road, handle code 3”.
“1-Adam-12, roger, 211 in progress, 1352 Gallagher Road, responding code 3”.
Pete Malloy reached out to flick on the lights and sirens as his partner Sam Johnson placed the radio back onto its cradle. “How many 211 runs does that make tonight?” Johnson asked as he settled back into his seat in the black and white patrol car. “Four 211 calls so far, and hopefully we can get off on time as our shift is supposed to end in an hour” Pete replied tightening his hands on the steering wheel as he weaved the car between traffic towards their destination. Suddenly, the radio crackled through the charged moment, informing the two men that their suspects had fled the scene and was last spotted on foot in the vicinity of the warehouse district at 118 Park Avenue. “1-Adam-12, roger, 118 Park Avenue”. The radio settled while Pete steered the wheel towards their new destination; both officers unaware their lives were about to change forever.
As they got closer to the scene, Johnson started to count down the street numbers, so Pete killed the lights and sirens for a silent approach. Coming to a stop, Pete jumped out and crouched behind the drivers side while unholstering his weapon. Peering over the hood of the car, he suddenly saw a shadow of their 211 suspects rounding the back of the building as he came into view.”Freeze, Police!” Pete shouted, while pointing his gun at the two men. The suspects rabbited, and Johnson took off after them, while shouting at Pete to get on the radio to request for backup. “1-Adam-12, requesting backup at 118 Park Avenue, officer in pursuit”, suddenly the sound of a gunshot rang out turning Malloy’s blood cold as he heard a thud in the direction of where his partner was last seen. Abandoning the radio, Pete made his way over to the building, crouching down low with his gun drawn; looking ahead he saw one of the suspects run out of the alleyway between the two buildings with a gun in hand.
“Freeze, police, drop the gun, get on the ground, hands on your head”.
Pete was forced to duck as the suspect shot at him, while the other ran off in the opposite direction; sirens suddenly wailed in the distance as backup arrived on scene. Defeated, the suspect dropped both the gun and himself down on the ground and was subsequently cuffed and herded into a patrol car. Assured the immediate scene was secured, Pete ran ahead and peered down the dark alley way to find his partner, what he saw as he did so gutted him as he found himself staring down at the unseeing eyes of his partner lying in a crumpled heap with a bullet in his heart.
Shocked in disbelief, he fell to his knees unable to comprehend the image in front of him; what seemed like an undeterminable amount of time later, a hand landed on his shoulder startling him out of his unseeing gaze. Looking up, he saw the saddened expression of his Sergeant, William ‘Mac’ MacDonald; who tried to coax his officer away from the dead body.
“Mac… I should have been quicker… in position to back him up, why did he just run ahead..?”
Pete realized the trailing voice to be his as he looked at Mac, “C’mon Malloy, we need to get you checked out, you are going into shock”, Mac uttered as he tried to get Pete back up to his feet, Pete refused to move. “Malloy, come away!” Staggering up, Pete started to move away towards the waiting ambulance, and as a tarp was laid over the dead body of his partner behind him; Pete finally realized that he was shaking.
Suddenly Pete remembered about the other suspect; however he no longer cared what was going on, and wished that this night had never happened, a cacophony of thoughts crashing against each other: “wish my hands would stop shaking..,should be stronger than this…how did this happen…why him, not me…oh my god, his wife and kids, how am I going to tell them?”. Mac worriedly looked on as his officer started to shut down and wondered how this was going to affect him going forward, he could not lose his best officer and friend; and resolved to himself that he would do his best to help him in the forthcoming days.
Soon, Pete found himself on the front porch of Johnson's home with Mac to notify his wife of his death. Hearing footsteps and the door opening, Pete braced himself for the upcoming reaction; however neither officer had a chance to utter a word as the woman in question took one look at them, and being a first responders wife immediately knew what they were here for. Her face crumpled, whispering under her breath: “No, no, please no, not my husband!”, and crumpled to the floor. Mac moved forward to comfort her while Pete stood helplessly by; “Ma’am, is there anyone we can call to stay with you and your children?”, “Yes, my m…m…mother - her phone n…n…number is in the address book in the hallway b…by the phone”. To escape, Pete volunteered to phone the mother while Mac stayed behind with Mrs Johnson. Later that night, Pete was sent home, after reports were finished and statements taken, in a state of exhaustion. He hoped he would be able to get some sleep as instructed, however there was a feeling that no sleep would come; a fact that would later be proven correct.
2 days later saw a lump shifting restlessly under the covers in the small bedroom, eyes moving under closed lids as the scene of the night 2 days prior tortured the mind of the man lying there. Suddenly, the body shot up as Pete sat panting and trying to shake the horrible images away. This was the second day of Petes self isolation as he wallowed in guilt and self-incrimination. Pete was ignoring all calls and knocks at his door, but knew he would have to make an appearance soon enough before someone broke his door down. He would also be attending his partners funeral in 5 days time; and had been asked to be a pallbearer. Although Johnson's wife did not blame Pete for her husband's death, Pete could not even begin to separate his guilt from the logic of events that happened to bear showing himself again in front of her. Pete knew that there was nothing he could have done to prevent it and that had simply followed his senior officers instructions to call for aid while Johnson had gone ahead into the alley without waiting for Malloy to back him up. This would take Pete a long time to reconcile the facts with his feeling; but he was not yet there.
Hunching into himself and wrapping his arms in a self soothing hug, Petes hand rested once again against his soul mark and tried to draw comfort from it; trying to imagine their warmth in his head and what they may say to combat against his feelings of self guilt. But alas, that was yet to be, no warmth and no words of comfort was forthcoming: so Pete got up to his feet and forced himself into the warmth of his shower.
The day of the funeral dawned, and Pete was standing trying not to fidget in his dress blues, staring resolutely ahead as the bugle call of the Taps sounded and gunshots rang out, swallowing against the lump in his throat as the coffin was lowered into the ground. Johnson's wife was presented with the flag, and people started to offer condolences and leave. Pete felt he should do the same, moving undeterred despite his feelings otherwise to offer his own platitudes, then turned to leave without seeing his Sergeant standing behind him watching him walk away.
Mac stood, looking at the retreating back of his officer and wondered what he could do to help; a plan had started to hatch in his mind, and he decided to first talk it over with his Captain before presenting it to Malloy. Mac had a feeling that Malloy was going to quit the police force, and was determined to do anything to prevent that from happening.
2 months later Pete startled awake as his alarm blared next to him, it had been another crappy night of fitful sleep, broken by nightmares. Lying in sweat soaked sheets, his hand drifted down towards his ribs where his soulmark tattoo of a fox resided, and wished right now for the comforting presence of his soulmate; however they had yet to meet. Pete recalled being told at the age of 8 that “only 40% of the population have a soulmark, and may appear sometime during your 10th year on Earth. When soulmates meet, your mark will change from black to colour and will warm upon contact; a bond will form, and strengthen over time”. He was also cautioned that “if you or your soulmate is near death or dies the mark will start fading or fade to black”. Shaking past thoughts away, Pete focused on the day ahead; it was to be his first day back at the station and he was going to be saddled with a new probationary rookie as a partner for training. The conversation he had with Mac three days earlier regarding his attempted resignation, and subsequent notice of said partner floated to the forefront of his mind. “Get it done”, Mac hung up the phone as he looked up at the knock at his door, seeing Malloy he waved him in wondering why he was at the station three days before his first shift back. Malloy shuffled in holding something in his hands, Mac took in his officers haggard form and frowned as he accepted what was given to him and his heart immediately sank. “What is this?” Mac asked hoping it wasn’t what he thought would come to pass, but it was: a resignation. “No, I will not be accepting this, not at this stage. Instead, I have put you down to train someone from our new batch of probationary officers recently graduated from the Academy, he starts Monday, so I am expecting you to show up”. When Malloy went to argue, he shut his mouth at the stubborn look on Mac’s face, and knew he wasn’t going to accept, Malloy was proven right when he was asked to give his proposal a chance, and that Mac was willing to revisit his resignation in a months time if he did. Schooling his face, Malloy nodded once, and turned to walk back out the door, his mind swirling in frustration to settle on one thought: “How can he ask me to train another, when I can’t even trust myself?”
His thoughts returning to the present, Pete decided to just get on with it and get up, swinging his legs over to rest on the floor. He quickly made his way over to the bathroom, and peered at his bleary form in the mirror, barely recognizing the disheveled look to the polished man he used to be. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, purple eyes bags from the lack of sleep and his freckles stood out in stark contrast against his washed out complexion; hopping into the shower, he washed and soaked under the hot water and stepped out to dress feeling marginally better. Fully dressed, Pete locked his apartment, and made his way down to the parking lot to his car; managing to avoid his nosy insufferable apartment manager Mrs O’Brien along the way.
Stepping into the stations locker room, Pete was thankful to see it empty so he wouldn’t have to hear more condolences and platitudes from his fellow officers. Reaching his locker he grabbed his uniform off the hanger and started to slowly get dressed; suddenly he found himself sitting, staring at the 744 number of his badge and remembered the pride he felt at receiving it 7 years ago. However, now after the death of his partner, that pride and excitement for the job ahead was nowhere to be found, instead he was full of self blame and survivors guilt coalescing into a desire to quit and fade in obscurity. Alas, Mac had scuppered this plan, and he was to soon meet in the Sergeants office to meet his new trainee and partner. Sighing, Pete finished pinning his badge, collected his gun and baton and left the serenity of the empty locker room behind.
The first impression he saw of his new partner was a broad back, tall and slim and young; something that Pete hoped did not mean cocky and eager, a potentially dangerous combination in a new officer. Reaching the door, Pete helped himself in as Mac turned to introduce them: “Pete, this is Jim Reed; your new partner”, Pete reached out grabbing Reeds outstretched hand, feeling the warmth and sure grip of the other when unexpectedly his whole world shifted, a fledging bond slid into place and his soulmark grew warm; Pete looked up to see shocked blue eyes boring into his own.