Chapter Text
“Visiting hours are over. You shouldn’t be here,” a young, distinctly Irish voice says besides Stella.
The nurse’s tone is kind but firm. Stella releases the old woman’s hand, experiences a fleeting sense of loss when she does.
She stands up.
The nurse reaches out to pat Stella’s arm. “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of her.”
Stella nods, doesn’t bother to explain she’s not a relative. The stillness of the past few minutes has been enough to let exhaustion catch up with her.
Her gaze slides over Rose as she walks out of the room, then shifts to the drawn blinds hiding Spector from view. They can’t be more than a few yards from one another (something will need to be done about that. Tomorrow, tomorrow…)
The predator and the prey. Both hurt. Both helpless.
Stella isn’t sure what kind of life lesson this is supposed to be.
~~~
Back inside the room that has been assigned to her, Stella peels her clothes off and retrieves her grey long sleeved t-shirt and a pair of soft black trousers from the bag Gail brought her earlier. There is a door leading to a small bathroom to her right. She badly wants to take a shower, but doesn’t want to be caught-off guard if something were to happen. Her position as SIO is precarious enough as it is. Someone is going to have to take the blame for this mess, and Stella suspects many fingers are going to be pointing in her direction in the days to come.
I stood up for you, Stella.
I also told the chief that I could manage you.
Jim's words suggests she has become a liability. This much is clear. She wonders if his show of support is his way of making amends for his past behaviour. Not that it matters. She suspects he will stand up for her as long as it serves his interests. After that...
There are a couple of towels on the hospital bed behind her. Stella picks one up, and, after dampening it under the tap, cleans herself up as best as she can. There are pink streaks on the towel after she wipes her stomach and for a moment, she is back in the woods, her hand pressed on Spector’s wound, his blood warm and thick under her palm, oozing between her fingers like red ink. She feels lightheaded, her mouth tastes sour from too much coffee and too little sleep. She quickly rinses the towel, leaves it on the edge of the sink before getting dressed.
She sits on the bed, rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands, then lets herself fall backwards across the mattress. She stares up at the pitted square tiles on the ceiling, her mind buzzing with white noise, her body growing heavier by the second.
She’s about to close her eyes when there’s a soft knock on the door.
Go away.
Stella wants to ignore it, but knows she can’t. She sits up wearily. “Come, in.”
The door opens. Something tightens inside Stella’s chest at the sight of Professor Reed Smith standing in the doorway. It feels like a lifetime since they last saw each other even though it’s just been a couple of days.
“Hey,” the woman says. She’s in her usual biking attire, holding a brown paper bag in one hand.
Stella’s lips curve up. “What are you doing here?" It’s too late for visiting hours, not to mention that only close family members are allowed in the ICU. Reed would know all this. She can’t possibly be here to see Rose.
Reed holds up the paper bag. “I figured you probably didn’t have time to eat anything.”
“How kind.” Stella isn’t used to other people worrying about her needs.
Reed closes the door behind her and steps forward. “I hope you like burgers,” she says, handing her the bag.
“I do, thanks.” The warm smell of bread and meat wafting up as Stella opens the bag makes her stomach rumble. It’s been a long time since the dry piece of toast she had in a rush this morning.
Reed perches herself on the end of the bed, folding a leg underneath her and shoving her hands in the pockets of her waxed leather jacket.
“I talked to Tom. He told me Rose was stable?”
Stella nods, while unwrapping her food. “She should be fine physically. Psychologically…” she lets her words trail off, looking up at Reed, watching her colleague’s jaw clench as she acknowledges this.
“Thank God she’s got Tom and her family to help her get through this,” Reed says.
Stella takes a bite of her burger, chews slowly. “Tom is angry,” she says after a while.
“That’s to be expected. I’m angry too,” Reed says her eyes dark.
Stella holds her gaze. “He’s angry at Rose. I talked to him, he doesn’t understand why she followed Spector so easily.”
Reed’s eyes go wide, pulls her hands out of her pockets. “What? This is ridiculous. She didn’t have a choice. By doing so she probably thought she was protecting her family.”
Stella nods. “That’s what I told him. I explained that compliance didn’t mean consent. Rose was simply terrified Spector would hurt him and the children if she didn’t do what he said.”
“And he would have. We saw what happened to Joe Brawley,” Reed adds bitterly.
Stella wraps what’s left of her burger and puts it back in the brown paper bag, her appetite gone. “You may want to talk to Tom, insist how important it is for Rose’s recovery that he doesn’t tell her any of this. She’ll blame herself already enough as it is.”
Reed nods firmly. “I will.”
Stella reaches out for the water bottle on the bedside table. “God, I need a drink,” she sighs.
Reed catches her eyes. “How are you?”
Stella stares at her. Reed is the first person to ask her that today.
“What?” Reed asks with a frown.
Stella shakes her head, “nothing. Just tired. It’s been a long day.”
“I bet. What the hell happened out there?”
Stella takes a sip of water before answering. “Spector lead us to Rose into Sieve Dove Forest. We’d just found her in the trunk of his car when Jimmy Tyler emerged from the woods and started shooting. Spector took two bullets in the abdomen and detective Anderson took one in the arm before PC Ferrington took him down.”
Reed rubs her hands over her jeans, taking this in. “So, that’s how Tyler’s body ended up in my morgue this afternoon." She pauses before asking: "how did he know where to find you?”
Stella shakes her head. “I don’t know.”
“Is Spector dead?”
“No. He’s in critical condition but he’s still alive.” Stella points her chin towards the door. “He’s in the ICU down there.”
Reed doesn’t say anything for a long time. Then: “I hope he lives. I hope he lives and faces justice.”
I knew there was a reason I liked you. Stella thinks but doesn't say.
Reed rubs the bridge of her nose, hesitates. “Are they going to blame you for what happened?”
Stella shrugs. “Probably.”
Reed reaches out to catch her hand. “If I can do anything to help, let me know.”
Stella stares down at the hand covering hers, smiles. “You brought me food, you are helping.”
Reed laughs and the sound is like a balm on Stella's bruised soul.
The pathologist pats her hand, then stands up. “I’d better go, let you get some rest.”
Stella catches her wrist on impulse. “Tanya”.
Reed looks down. “What?”
Stella releases her, lowers her head. “Nothing. Thank you for coming.”
Reed shoots her an odd look, takes a few steps closer. “Lie down.”
Stella frowns. “What?”
“Just lie down.” Reed’s voice is soft as silk, but commading in an almost motherly way, and Stella, who in normal circumstances, doesn't like being ordered around by anyone, is simply to tired to argue. She lies down on her side, rests her head on the white hospital pillow.
Reed disappears from her field of vision and Stella hears the faint click of a light being switched off. The small room goes dark. A minute or so later, Stella feels the shift on the mattress as Reed climbs onto the bed behind her and two surprisingly strong arms wrap themselves around her. She feels Reed’s legs tangle with her own, her socks warm against her shins through the fabric of her trousers.
“I didn’t -” Stella starts saying, breathing in leather and a faint hint of floral perfume.
“Shhh… you had a rough day. Let me do this.”
Stella grins because doing so is the only way to keep the well of emotions bubbling up inside her at bay. “Did Croydon suddenly disappear from the map?”
Reed’s chuckle is warm against her neck. “Something like that. Close your eyes,” she says, stroking the length of her arm.
Stella does.
~~~
Reed is gone when Stella wakes up. As she yawns and sits up on the bed, she notices a scrap of paper on the bedside table. A few words are scrawled on it, in the barely legible penmanship of someone in the medical profession.
'You snore. Have a good day, I'll call you later. X'
Stella guesses that the spiky hieroglyph underneath must be Reed's signature.
She smiles.