Waiting For Peter
by lbc
Archived with permission, originally
posted to the sunbeam list
Vignette #1
The Heads You Lose Episode Vignettes: Waiting For Peter
#1 - The Phone Call
By: lbc
Note: Sometimes we see several potential scenes of h/c or slash
or whatever that are not shown in the canon episode. They
happened, but we didn't get to see them. This is the first of
those for the episode, Heads You Lose. If I do any more, they
will all be short and probably involve a lot of thoughts in some of
them.
__________________
When you are a Detective Superintendent in the Police, you expect early
morning phone calls, even in lesser populated areas such as Wetherton;
therefore, when THE PHONE CALL came, it was no different than any other
that the aging Superintendent had encountered in his years in Wetherton
CID. His bed was warm, his rest had been peaceful . . . until . .
. and this was a very big until . . . the phone rang with the news that
nearly destroyed his world. Andrew Dalziel's world was wrapped up
in one person: Detective Inspector Peter Pascoe.
Some time before 2.30 am, Inspector Peter Pascoe had joined a high
speed chase of an escaping criminal which was abruptly stopped when his
dark sedan slammed into a concrete pillar at a high rate of
speed. From that moment on Peter Pascoe was fighting for his life.
By the time that he had been cut out of the wrecked car, Pascoe was
unconscious from a nasty collision between his head and the recoiling
car. Peter knew nothing of what occurred in the next several
hours, but his friend, Andrew Dalziel, would have it forever imprinted
on his heart and brain because his Peter resided in both places in the
large man's body; his brain held the image of the beautiful man
that Peter was, and his heart carried the love that he held for his
friend.
Hearing the words that his friend had been taken to Wetherton Royal
Infirmary didn't really sink in, at first, but when you are a policeman
you react instinctively. Dalziel dressed quickly, rushing to the
infirmary to discover what had happened to his Petal.
Andrew Dalziel's heart was pounding which was to be expected.
Waking from a deep sleep by a ringing phone is not conducive to a
soothing reaction, but the drive to the infirmary had increased the
pounding. Dalziel didn't know the status of his Sunbeam, nor the
seriousness of the injuries, but he knew that his friend was threatened
and that was enough.
Dalziel was a large man who was used to barrelling his way past people
and things, but this morning, his large figure drove like a tank with
one goal: to discover if his friend was all right. Instead, what
he encountered was a typical A & E, in the early morning:
crowded, noisy chaos, filled with human voices and a variety of
smells. Looking around, despair and anxiety filled the jacketed
man: Where was Peter? Was he even alive?
__________________
End of vignette 1
The Heads You Lose Episode
Vignettes: Waiting For Peter
Vignette #2: The Waiting Room
By: lbc
____________________________
ACCIDENT & EMERGENCY
The sign above the swinging doors hovered like an omen; just like
Andrew Dalziel, the sign had seen better days. In fact, Wetherton
Royal Infirmary was being threatened with closure, but now this
building of brick and dingy white housed the most important person in
Andrew Dalziel's life, and he was threatened by dying.
Although Dalziel moved quickly from the exterior through the corridor
towards the Waiting Room, he still felt cold . . . the cold of fear, of
apprehension, of losing his Petal.
The room was a madhouse with outpatients occupying every seat, and one
lone, harassed nurse, dressed in blue, trying to make some sense out of
the chaos.
She called out a name, and several young men came forward, practically
carrying their injured mate. Dalziel looked at them; the thought
that they could have been the ones whose lives Peter had saved by
choosing to hit a pillar at high speed rather than their truck.
Dalziel's nerves were raw by this time so that when the dishevelled
youth demanded loudly to go with their friend, Dalziel immediately
intervened.
"You heard what she said, or do you want me to spread your ears with a
poker?"
Older and heavier, Andrew Dalziel represented an imposing figure, but
it was the voice of authority . . . a voice that had had years of use
that stunned the leader into silence.
Dalziel stared at the younger man for a moment then walked away,
running his hand through his hair. It, too, was chaotic, but he,
frankly, didn't care. The only thing that mattered . . . the only
person that mattered was lying somewhere in this threatened building .
. . fighting for his life.
The surroundings faded as Dalziel thought about his Detective
Inspector. Would he ever see his friend again . . .
alive? Finally . . . finally, a woman appeared - - tall, thin,
wearing slacks and a sweater . . . someone said she was Mansfield . . .
a Doctor?
"Peter's got a nasty head injury." Dalziel stood there inside the
small Casualty room . . . not really taking it all in. His Peter
shouldn't even have been with the car chase. Was the arrest of
some drunk in a speeding vehicle, worth the life of his Sunbeam?
Unrecognizable . . . distorted words floated past him as he tried to
come to grips with the enormity of the threat to Peter. Then four
words soaked in . . . someone said that Peter would be the patient of
The Butcher of Wetherton. What the bloody hell did that
mean? Mansfield tried to laugh it off as a joke, but now a deep
tremor of fear pervaded the Fat Man's heart and belly. **His
Peter was being left to the mercy of The Butcher of
Wetherton? What kind of hospital made a patient wait to
have a CT scan because they couldn't find someone to do it? Maybe
the bloody thing should close.** Andrew Dalziel wiped his
exhausted, pain-ridden face as he sat down to endure a very long night.
________________
End of Vignette #2
The Heads You Lose Episode Vignettes: Waiting For Peter
Vignette #3: The Corridor
By: lbc
___________________
Detective Inspector Peter Pascoe had been swallowed up by the dingy
building called Wetherton Royal Infirmary. The badly injured man had
waited all night for something called a CT scan . . . not that the blue
eyed man knew that he was waiting. No, he was unconscious, head rigidly
held in restraints after slamming into a concrete pillar at a high rate
of speed. He couldn't hear anything . . . well, maybe that wasn't quite
true . . . he had heard voices while he was in his dream world . . .
voices that spoke of someone, he really didn't know who, and that most
important voice of all, his Andy, but the handsome man was too tired to
really contemplate the presence of Andy Dalziel. The only thing that
was important was that Andy was there, and Peter had that to hold onto.
Detective Superintendent Andrew Dalziel was also waiting. He hadn't
even bothered to take off his cotton jacket . . . somehow the feel of
the ancient coat was comforting and helped keep Andy's feeling of
coldness at bay . . . because Andrew Dalziel had never felt like this
before - - complete and utter despair. Of course, his Peter had been
injured before. **That damn coal pit.** But, Andy had been there. Peter
had faced this all on his own. What the younger man's thoughts were
those last few seconds before he slammed into the pillar must have been
gut wrenching, and he had had to face it all alone.
Well, Peter Pascoe wasn't going to be alone any more. Andrew Dalziel
was here, and would remain here until those brilliant blue eyes looked
at him once more. **A CT scan, what in bloody hell is that? What are
they doin' to my Petal?**
Somehow, Dalziel had wandered into an empty corridor. Now he was pacing
back and forth. A few pieces of equipment stood around, but it didn't
seem to be on the main thoroughfare of a busy hospital. **Why am I
here? How did I even get here? What's happenin' to Peter?**
The morning had started unkindly. He still occupied the chair next to
Peter's bed. Dr. Mansfield appeared once again. **Christ, don't she
ever go home?** As the nurse pulled back the curtains around the
cubicle, Dalziel stirred groggily from his vigil next to Peter's bed.
He had stayed the night, but finally Mansfield said that they were
going to take x-rays. Looking at the unconscious Inspector, Dalziel's
heart thumped with concern for his beautiful Petal.
Now he was stalking the corridor, waiting . . . always waiting for news
that might destroy his life. Dalziel knew that if he lost Peter Pascoe,
his life would cease to exist. He might survive, but he would not live.
Suddenly, a ghostly figure appeared at the end of the corridor. A
gurney was being rolled towards him, but the news wasn't very
encouraging. The orderly only knew that his Peter had had an x-ray, but
the scan had still not been done. The man could tell him nothing.
The anguish on the large man's face told everything. His Peter had
survived the night, but no one still could tell him anything. Despair
filled the older man then horror overwhelmed him. As he shouted to the
departing man, "You're just not going to leave him here, are you," the
stark reality of the situation became apparent. Dalziel looked around
the gloomy, dingy corridor. His Sunshine was being left in this
Godforsaken place, but he was alive, and as long as he lived there was
hope and there was Andrew Dalziel, who was not about to allow his
friend to lie there alone. Feeling exhaustion and concern overwhelm
him, Dalziel sat down next to the gurney, prepared to stay with his
friend until even if hell froze over.
_____________
End of vignette #3
The Heads You Lose Episode
Vignettes: Waiting For Peter
Vignette #4: Ellie Soper
__________________________
Andrew Dalziel tried to stop himself from shuddering as he heard the
ominous words from Dr. Mansfield - - ACUTE SUBDURAL HAEMATOMA. His
Peter had a blood clot. The recommendation that Peter's wife should be
informed was like a nail being driven through Dalziel's heart. In his
own mind, Andy knew that the break up of the Pascoes wasn't one
particular person's fault. He knew that Ellie blamed Peter's loyalty
and affection for Dalziel for some of the rift . . . hell, maybe even
all of it, but Andrew Dalziel, who had lived through his own wife's
abandonment, only had to look at his Peter and hear his words about
that trip to America and the tyre puncture to almost weep in despair
for the younger man. And now . . . now, Andy had to call Ellie Soper
and tell her of her ex-husband's life-threatening injury.
Ellie Soper . . . strange how some names can cause such pain and dismay
in a body. Andy could close his eyes in remembrance of the case which
had reunited the younger Peter and Ellie. Peter had been a Detective
Sergeant at the time of the case, and Dalziel had seen this fortuitous
meeting as a chance for Peter to have a "normal" life. In fact, when
the stress from the marriage had begun to be exhibited on the young
couple, Dalziel had silently blamed himself for pushing Peter towards
the marriage. Dalziel had liked Ellie and loved their daughter - -
because she was Peter's daughter, and by that time, Andrew Dalziel had
realized how much he loved the father as well.
Now, he had to call the ex-wife to the side of her estranged husband.
What would be the results of such a get together? Dalziel shook his
head and muttered to himself as he realized how selfish . . . how
possessive he had become over Peter's company. After the incident with
the miner, the solid world of the Pascoes had almost disintegrated;
where Rosie's illness had brought them together, Colin Farr had torn it
asunder.
No, perhaps that was unfair. Andy could remember sitting deep in the
dark mine shaft; Peter injured. It wasn't all black and white; there
were colours of grey in the whole affair, but Andrew Dalziel's
viewpoint on the events was coloured by Peter Pascoe's spectrum. His
Petal had been badly hurt, both physically and emotionally, by what had
occurred. The Pascoes had tried to retrieve the situation, but it
hadn't lasted. Then Peter had gone for a visit and met the new
boyfriend. The trauma of his inability to help with a tyre puncture was
too much for the young man. His rigid control had slipped, and he had
broken down and cried.
Andrew Dalziel had been driving when all of this had been revealed to
him by the stricken father. Whispering this recalled-scene to the
comatose Pascoe had shaken Dalziel to the core. He wanted his Peter to
wake up. He virtually commanded his Petal to not let him down.
Dalziel's world was wrapped up in Peter Pascoe. He wanted to be with
his friend. He had told the nurse, Shannon that Peter was a great
friend and a great Detective - - none better, and he had meant every
word.
Barely keeping his emotions in heck, the heavy policeman went to the
phone, trying to find out Ellie Soper's number in America. The sight of
an older individual in obvious distress over the loss of a loved one,
stopped him in his tracks. He replaced the phone, hoping that Peter
would understand. Andrew Dalziel was the one who would be there for his
Sunbeam. During the time period that Peter had been living in his
house, Dalziel thought he had come to mean something to his Inspector.
They had learned to rely on one another. Certainly the advent of Ellie
Soper would only increase the stress on that fragile structure. Only
when Peter was conscious, lucid and willing to see his ex-wife, would
the effort be made to reach her.
The decision to go ahead with the operation had badly traumatized
Dalziel. He had faced Mansfield in his ferocity to question why she was
going against her previous judgment. Dalziel had felt so lost during
this whole situation. He was used to making decisions and giving
commands; now he had to turn the life of his beloved Peter over to a
woman who seemed concerned, but was repudiating her own earlier
decision. Even more frightening was that Peter's life was being placed
in the hands of the surgeon who Dalziel thought of as the Butcher of
Wetherton.
As Lateef, gently reminded the Superintendent of the work that needed
done on the case involving a corpse, cut into 16 parts, Dalziel walked
out of the hospital, leaving his heart with his friend while his mind
went back to the efforts to capture the individual who would carve a
woman's body to hide her identity.
___________________
End of Vignette #4
The Heads You Lose Episode Vignettes: Waiting For Peter
Vignette #5: Awakening
_______________________
"What's wrong?"
The drive to Wetherton Royal Infirmary had been a nightmare. Andrew
Dalziel, Detective Superintendent of the Wetherton CID kept hearing the
few words said by Mackenzie Mansfield.
"Superintendent? You need to come to the hospital."
Dalziel also remembered the sound of his phone shutting down. It was
like every single sound, event, and noise was imprinted on his brain.
What was happening at the hospital? His Petal had gone into surgery to
relieve the pressure of a subdural haematoma . . . and Andrew Dalziel
had abandoned the most important person in his life to deal with a
crime - - a mutilated corpse. **Am I now going to pay the price of
abandoning my Inspector and my friend?** He had told Shannon, the
nurse, that there was no friend better than Peter, but by abandoning
his Petal, what kind of friend had that made Andrew Dalziel?
Dalziel had rushed to Wetherton Infirmary, expecting to hear the worst.
"What's wrong?"
Mansfield and the nurse, Shannon, blocked his view of his beloved
friend, but the welcome sight of Peter Pascoe awake greeted him. His
smile lit up the room.
"Hello, Peter."
Dr. Mansfield's comment about Peter's possible confusion quickly led to
their old familiar banter. Pascoe's husky voice, recalling the trip
that they had taken was as welcome as a Highland Park to a thirsty
throat. Dalziel's fears seemed to vanish as he looked at the exhausted,
but alert younger man.
The weight of the ages lifted from Andrew Dalziel. Nothing mattered
except that his Petal was awake and would be getting better. The two
men quickly returned to their practice of being each other's sounding
board. Sometimes his Inspector seemed less than anxious to hear the
latest news of the on-going case. He really seemed more interested in
the young nurse, Shannon. Nevertheless, he was too good a copper to not
alert Dalziel to information that he picked up, including the missing
ward sister, Leann Proctor and the rings that Leann had been known to
wear.
Each day Peter Pascoe seemed to recover a little more. The ugly wound
on his head where his forehead had encountered glass from colliding
with the stone pillar began to disappear. He now wore a t-shirt, much
to Dalziel's silent despair. In fact, his Petal seemed to be much
better physically, except for the badly fractured left leg, but his
emotional state was in turmoil - - in turmoil because of two things:
one, opened onto a whole new future and could be summoned up in a word
- - Shannon. She was bright, concerned, and fun to be with. Peter knew
that he was not yet ready to commit to another woman - - his marriage
to Ellie and the subsequent divorce was still too painful to even
consider entering into another relationship, but it was fun to talk to
the young nurse and spend time with her. The other subject that
terrorized the young officer could also be summarized in one word - -
epilepsy.
To Peter Pascoe, the death and dismemberment of an unknown corpse was
remote. It was not that he was not interested - - Shannon was wrapped
up in the case and that made it important to him, but it was still
remote, at best. Even the ongoing investigation of Collinson, the man
who had saved his life, was remote. That was his boss' venue - - not
his, but as Peter Pascoe saw a young girl die in convulsions and a
young man, lying in his hospital bed, sprawled in despair, it hit
Pascoe hard. He had read that sometimes . . . sometimes a severe blow
to the head could bring on epileptic seizures.
Since Pascoe had opened his eyes, the attrition and aftermath of
epilepsy seemed to be everywhere - - even his own doctor's daughter was
afflicted. As Peter watched the young 17 year old convulsing, the
desperate calls for Collinson, and the closed curtains with quiet words
of comfort from Shannon, his mind was shaken and his body was almost
frozen in terror. What if that happened to him?
How could he explain his fears to anyone? He thought of Shannon's
beautiful face as she lay on his bed after bringing him non-hospital
food. They had enjoyed friendship and closeness. Shannon had said that
the doctor's daughter used to suffer from 500 seizures a year. Peter
knew in his heart that if that happened, he would be deprived of that
which meant everything to him - - his job at Wetherton CID. Then Peter
Pascoe realized that it wasn't the job that he would miss, but Andrew
Dalziel, his friend, his boss and so much more.
**Wouldn't Ellie just love that - - if I had to give up Andy - - not
because I rejected the policeman's job but because it rejected me?**
Pascoe thought of the Fat Controller's face when he had woken. He even
remembered some of the words that his friend had spoken. "Don't let me
down, Peter."
**Well, Andy what would you say if you saw me rolling around on the
floor at CID, having a seizure?** Pascoe rubbed his forehead; his
thoughts deep in despair as he contemplated life without Andy Dalziel.
His relationship with Shannon was new and might be temporary, but he
had known Dalziel for a very long time - - what would life be like
without him?
Day passed into another day. Now there was another attempted murder - -
another nurse had been attacked and right in the hospital!! Dalziel
continued to visit his Inspector, but the case with the nurse, Melinda,
was taking up more and more of the Superintendent's time. Dalziel
seemed to be pleased with the growing relationship between Shannon and
Peter, even teasing his Inspector by singing, out of sight, of course,
"Falling In Love Again."
If Peter Pascoe could have seen the look on his friend's face as he
sang that song - - definitely out of sight - - he would have realized
how much that effort had cost the Superintendent. It was true that the
one thing that Dalziel wanted most in life was for Peter Pascoe to be
happy, and he would do anything to guarantee his Sunshine's happiness,
if it was in his power, but what would bring Peter the happiness that
he had lost? His Petal hadn't truly been happy since his daughter had
left for America after Ellie had instituted divorce proceedings. If the
girl, Shannon, could help him forget Peter's pain and despair then
Andrew Dalziel was all for her, but, in his heart of hearts, the large
man feared Pascoe's emotional roller coaster which might lead him right
into the arms of another woman. Andrew Dalziel loved his Inspector more
than anyone in the world, but his heart agonized over the idea that
Peter's new found happiness might be built upon Dalziel's loss.
In the end two things happened which shook both men. After talking to
Shannon, Pascoe alerted his boss to the possibility that the old,
abandoned operating theatres might have been used for the dismemberment
of the corpse of Leann Proctor. The other occurrence was potentially
even more damaging.
Peter had gone to the extent of loaning his flat to Shannon so that she
would not have to be alone in the house she had formerly shared with
Melinda and Leann. As usual she had been spending some of her off-duty
time at the hospital with Peter when they had both heard a noise which
Shannon decided to investigate. In the next few moments, Peter Pascoe's
cries for help for Shannon and the repetition of her name pervaded the
hospital as the young woman fought for her life in the grips of
Collinson's strangle hold. After moments of sheer terror a CID force
led by Andrew Dalziel entered the hospital and arrested Collinson in
the act of trying to overdose Melinda's IV of morphine and silence
Shannon when she discovered what he was doing.
Shannon was badly shaken by her ordeal, but Andrew Dalziel was even
more agitated when he heard the cold, contemptuous statement from his
friend's lips, "You could have told me what was happening."
As Andrew Dalziel finally opened the door of his house - - a house that
now felt strangely cold and lonely after the months of warmth that his
Sunbeam's occupancy had brought, a shiver of pain and fear swept his
body. How did Peter feel towards the man who almost let the young
nurse, Shannon die?
After a very long day, Dalziel collapsed in a well-worn chair, sipping
some Highland Park. His thoughts were varied and despondent. They had
finally caught the Butcher of Wetherton, but who had used the abandoned
operating theatre at WRI to dismember another young woman's body? What
would happen with Peter and Shannon after Pascoe was able to leave the
hospital? As Dalziel continued to drink, his innate honesty with
himself came to the forefront. He knew that the real question that he
faced was much more personal. How did Peter feel about his boss and
what was Dalziel going to do about it?
On the other side of Wetherton, Peter Pascoe lay on his hospital bed,
staring at the ceiling. His mind was in turmoil. He felt totally
drained by recent events. His fear for Shannon had been real and
uncompromising, but Shannon was alive and Collinson was now in custody.
Did he want more from Shannon than just friendship? The younger man
closed his eyes, trying to block out the sounds of his own voice
screaming for help. The vivid image of Andrew Dalziel appeared. **How
do I feel about Shannon? How do I really feel about Andrew Dalziel?**
__________________________
End of Vignette #5
The Heads You Lose Episode
Vignettes: Waiting For Peter
Vignette #6: Losing the Dying, Loving
the Living
_______________________
DUOPRIZAMIL
Such a strange name to lose one's life over. Peter Pascoe lay in
his hospital bed, stunned. His voice was hoarse from calling over
and over on the cell phone. He had heard Shannon die. He
had not needed Andrew Dalziel's confirming phone call. He knew
what had happened. Shannon was dead.
DUOPRIZAMIL
Once again the name floated through Pascoe's mind. Shannon had
discovered that Mackenzie Mansfield was giving her precious supply of
the withdrawn drug to her beloved daughter to fight the epileptic
seizures that had plagued her young life. Who could blame a
mother for wanting to do everything she could to keep her child safe .
. . to keep her alive, and yet . . . she had made the decision only a
divine power should hold in his realm - she played God by denying two
other teenagers the drug so that the fast dwindling banned American
drug would be available for her daughter.
That's what killed Shannon even though a large truck and a moment's
distraction became the tools. Shannon had discovered the illegal
drug at Mansfield's home and had told Pascoe. Then she was
summoned to hear the Doctor try to explain what had occurred the night
Leann Proctor had confronted Mansfield about her discovery.
Shannon kept repeating over and over again in her lilting voice, "She
cut her up. How could she do that, she cut her up." Then
traffic noises and nothing . . . nothing.
Peter Pascoe lay in his bed, despair filling his heart. This
hospital, the very walls around him had seen so much death and
unhappiness. This was just one more. Leann Proctor had
died, Alexander Collinson had been arrested; Polly Armstrong had died;
Mackenzie Mansfield had been arrested; the young nurse Melinda Miller
had been attacked and left to die, and now the final event in the
tragedy would be enacted: Wetherton Royal Infirmary would close
its doors, forever. Barry Jemmerson had won; Wetherton and its
inhabitants had lost, as had Peter Pascoe, but what had he lost?
Certainly Shannon was a friend, but could she have been more? Her
kindness, her caring, her presence had lightened the days after Peter
had opened his blue eyes after surgery for a subdural haematoma, and
now she was gone.
DPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPD
As the two men sat in the car watching Barry Jemmerson, directing the
construction of the new PFI hospital, Andrew Dalziel and Peter Pascoe
looked on. Dalziel's words when he called to confirm Shannon's
death kept running through Pascoe's mind, "I'm sorry, Peter; there was
nothing we could do. Peter? Peter?"
Dalziel's voice had become a life line over the past weeks. First
had been the long anxious hours, waiting for the scan. Pascoe
hadn't been awake, but his subconscious had registered the pleading
voice, asking him to hang on; to just wake up; to talk to
Dalziel. Even the traumatic events of the visit to America had
been related and somehow Andy's anxious voice had provided the link to
staying alive and making the reality of Ellie's new life more
acceptable than Pascoe would have thought.
Even as Pascoe began to recover, Dalziel had been there, and now the
man who was his boss and friend was taking him home - - not to that
small flat that Shannon had occupied for such a transitory moment, but
to Dalziel's home - - a place that Peter knew well from his months of
living there after separating from Ellie.
**What can I say to the man who puts me above everything else? I
know he meant it when he said that he was sorry about Shannon. I
even told him that I knew he was, but does he have any idea what he
means to me? What would I have done if it had been Andy that had
encountered that tanker and not Shannon?**
The mere thought of losing Andrew Dalziel caused the younger man to
shiver. Dalziel noticed the tremors immediately. "You all
right, Sunbeam?"
"Yeah, just felt cold for a minute."
Dalziel gripped the wheel tighter. He knew that Pascoe was having
a rough time of it at the moment. Dalziel remembered those long
months after his friend moved out of his home with Ellie and
Rosie. How badly he had wanted to comfort his friend then, but
did nothing. It was happening all over again. How often can
a person endure such trauma and still come back fighting?
Although Peter had never said anything directly, Dalziel knew how
frightened his Inspector was about the possibility of epilepsy.
The night that Polly Armstrong had died; Dalziel could hear the pain
and fear in the younger man's voice. When Peter related the
problems that the young epileptic, Simon was having; it was like
another nail was being driven into Peter's mental coffin.
Andrew Dalziel loved Peter Pascoe and would do anything for him.
While he had been a copper most of his life, Dalziel, deep in his own
heart, understood the feeling that Mackenzie Mansfield must have had
when faced with the loss of her beloved daughter. What mother . .
. or lover wouldn't do whatever necessary to keep their loved one alive
and happy? All of these thoughts ran through Dalziel's mind, but
he said nothing. His Peter didn't need any more burdens that the
multitude that he already bore.
As they entered Dalziel's home, the large-sized man asked, "Will yer be
wantin' something to drink or eat?"
Pascoe shook his head, rubbing absentmindedly at the healed injury on
the left side of his forehead. "No thanks."
"Take the guest bedroom again. You should feel comfortable there."
"Thanks."
As Pascoe wandered down the hall to the small room, his shoulders were
slouched and his gait was fainting shuffling due to the leg which still
bore the cast. He looked the epitome of exhaustion and
depression, and yet, what could Dalziel do to help his friend?
The Superintendent of Wetherton CID sighed as he walked into the
kitchen. He grabbed some Highland Park and poured a small
glass. He wanted Peter with him; he wanted the younger man to
stay with him for as long as he wanted, but Peter needed to be
independent. In jobs like theirs, privacy and independence was at
a premium. Once again Ellie's words about the time that Peter
spent on the job or at the beck and call of his Superintendent passed
through Dalziel's mind. **She knew what Peter was when she
married him, did she really expect to change him? Was I really
important enough to Peter that he would leave Rosie behind?**
Sitting in his favourite chair, Dalziel took a small sip of the smooth
liquid. Tonight would be difficult. Dalziel had seen the
look of dismay and pain on Peter's face when he had stopped by his flat
to pick up some clothes. A coldness had enveloped the young man
as he looked around the flat which had been Shannon's home for a few
fleeting days. Dalziel could still hear Peter's question, "Where
was justice for Shannon?"
Dalziel dropped his head to his chest in deep contemplation; he didn't
even hear Pascoe's soft footsteps enter the lounge. "Andy?"
Dalziel raised his head, looking directly into the blue pools that were
Pascoe's eyes. There was something lurking there, but Dalziel
couldn't understand it. "You all right, Sunshine? Something
I can do?"
For a moment, the handsome man hesitated then he seemed to change his
mind, shaking his head no. "Just wanted to thank you for putting
up with me. Letting me come here."
"No problem; happy to have you. Anything you need you just let me
know."
Peter was dressed in pyjamas and robe, looking about age 17, much like
the teenager who died in the convulsions of epilepsy.
"Andy, I'm scared."
The older man frowned; "What yer afraid of? The Doctor said you
were almost recovered. Have that cast off in few weeks."
Pascoe's eyelids drooped for a moment as he shook his head, "Not afraid
of the damage I can see; it's the unseen that's keepin' me awake.
When Shannon was . . . alive; she'd come and talk to me at night - -
helped keep the fears away. You know Judith and I sat and
listened to Polly Armstrong dying. I heard Shannon dying on the
cell phone. I know it's part of the job to face such things, but
I don't want to face anymore of it for awhile. I can't."
Dalziel was suddenly standing next to his friend. He put an arm
around the almost fragile shoulders and pulled the man into a hug,
gently rubbing his back to give comfort. "Don't, Peter. You
got to put it out of your mind. We all come to bad times in our
lives, and you've had more than your share, just lately. Here,
let's sit down."
Andy guided his friend to the nearby settee. The two men sat
close together as if Pascoe was drawing strength and warmth from the
large body, nearby. Andy continued to keep his arm around
Pascoe's shoulders and after a moment, the younger man rested his head
on Dalziel's shoulder. The two sat like that for several minutes,
but finally Peter whispered. "I'm scared of the epilepsy; I'm
scared that I won't be able to do my job . . . I'm scared of losing
you."
"Now, Petal, you know that I'm too much of a bastard to leave
you. Want to be with you; otherwise why would you be here?"
Peter raised his blue eyes and said, "Almost lost you at the British
Grenadier and with your heart attack; couldn't stand it if you got
tired of me or somethin'. You said . . . you said, standing by
the car, "Out with the old, in with the new. Won't be long before
they knock me down and put something in my place. Andy,
don't . . . don't leave me."
Dalziel felt like his Adam's apple had got stuck in his throat.
He could barely breathe; he was awash in the emotion reflecting from
Pascoe's blue eyes. For once, Andrew Dalziel was
speechless. Fortunately, it didn't last long. He knew that
Pascoe was on the edge of collapse, and he didn't want to take
advantage of this man who had had so much pain placed on his slender
shoulders, but he couldn't just let it rest there either.
How do you tell someone how much you love them . . . how much you value
them? After all, if Shannon had lived . . . what might have
happened to her and Peter? Andy felt the closeness the two had
developed. Of course, it wasn't unusual for a patient to grow
close to the nurse or doctor who was helping them, but Peter wasn't
that type of man. He had been devastated by the end of his
marriage. He had loved Ellie and was crazy about his daughter,
how could he possibly love or be in love with a fat, older man who was
not even reasonably handsome? **It's not fair to Peter to take
advantage of his injuries and his emotional turmoil, but . . . and it
was a very big but . . . if I do nothing, will I lose him entirely?**
Peter lay in his arms, his head on Dalziel's shoulder. Andy
turned his head to breathe in the aroma that was Peter Pascoe.
The scent of hospital plus Peter Pascoe's very essence mingled with the
perspiration of fear. Andy's turned head allowed his lips to rest
lightly in Pascoe's short hair. His hair had been cut for the
operation but had grown back somewhat. It smelled like the
hospital shampoo. Peter's eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but
there was also a tenseness in the younger man's body. "Peter?"
"Hmmm?"
"I know you're worried, and you got a right to be. Smashin' yer
head like that most likely shook up yer brains, but the Doc never said
that you would get this epilepsy nor anything else 'cept maybe a
headache or two. Don't go fearin' what you can't do anythin'
about."
The blue eyes looked up into Andy's anxious face. "But Andy I saw
Polly Armstrong; nothing could be done for her. You told me
yourself how little money is goin' to epilepsy research. I just
feel so . . . I don't know . . . lost . . . not knowin' if that blow on
the head might bring on convulsions. Wouldn't that be
great? Me, on the floor havin' a fit." Tears appeared in
the blue pools. "You'd . . . you'd have to let me go; I'd be too much
of a risk, otherwise."
"I'd never let you go, Sunshine. All right, you might develop
this thing, and you might not. Let's take one day at a
time. Dint yer think I felt the same way when I had me heart
attack? I might never have left that hospital, and when I was
shot; there was a very long time when I didn't know if I would ever be
able to come back to work."
At that moment, Dalziel began to curse himself as he saw the shame and
despair on the handsome face. **Now, why'd I go bringin' that up?
Peter is still touchy about him not visitin' me while I was in hospital.
"Andy?"
Seeing the hesitation and guilt, Dalziel knew what his Petal was
thinkin'. "Now, before you go all soppy on me; I understand why
you didn't visit. It's okay; I've forgot all about it."
"No, I know I told you I just couldn't see you like that, but it was
more . . . much more. Just about that time, I realized how
important you were to me . . . that you had become my world. I
still love Rosie and always will. "'M her dad, but you were the
one who took me in; gave me a home, and understood when everythin' came
crashin' down around my ears. Andy, when I realized that I
was goin' to run into that stone pillar," Pascoe hesitated, licking his
lips, "Well, I thought this was it, and I'd never see you again.
I was so sorry that I never told ya how special you are to me."
"Thanks, Petal. You're special to me, too. You're the best
friend a man could have. I've sung your praises to . . . " (Here
Dalziel stopped remembering to whom he had said the words about Peter
being a great friend as well as a great copper) "Well, I said 'em and I
meant 'em."
Pascoe dropped his head, withdrawing from Dalziel's comforting
arms. "I'm a great copper and a great friend, am I? What
would you have done, if Shannon and I had got together? Said
nothing?"
Dalziel looked perplexed, his interior icy cold with fear that he had
somehow hurt his beloved Petal. "I . . . would have congratulated
you. 'Want you to be happy, that's all!"
Pascoe's eyes hardened as he started to rise from the settee.
"Happy, how could you judge what would make me happy, if you would walk
away from me?"
Totally misreading Pascoe's meaning, the large man blurted out, "You
were in a coma when I left to go track down the body parts; I wanted to
stay, be with you. 'M sorry I didn't stay. Thought you'd
understand."
Pascoe turned slowly looking down at his boss. "Didn't mean
that. How could you walk away from me, knowin' how much I need
you? Just before I hit that pillar, I thought . . . "I love you, Andy
Dalziel, and now you'll never know. When I opened my eyes as they
raised the head of my bed, and I saw your smile; I was so thankful I
had a second chance. Shannon was special; she'll always be
special in my heart, but she wasn't you. Don't make me beg, Andy."
Moving faster even than his rush to Wetherton Royal Infirmary weeks
before, Andrew Dalziel stood and took the exhausted man into his arms.
"Oh, Petal, you never have to beg me. I belong to you, but you
just got out of hospital, so let's take this slowly, huh? We got
lots of time, and I'm here for you."
Pascoe smiled a shy smile. "Good to hear, 'cause right now I
couldn't do much."
Dalziel laughed, "Know what you mean. This old body could use
some rest too. What say we head for bed?"
Pascoe started towards the hall, but stopped in front of the master
bedroom. "Andy, I . . . I haven't slept by myself for lots of
weeks. In a hospital, you're never totally alone. Would it
be all right, if I slept with you . . . just for tonight?"
Dalziel leaned over and gently brushed his lips across Pascoe's
forehead, gently caressing the remains of the head injury; his voice
revealed how shaken he was by the nearness of his beloved Petal.
"Those first few nights when you were in hospital, I sat there,
thinkin' about all the things that I was goin' to say to you when you
woke up. Forgot 'em all now, 'cept I got this to say to
you: you're welcome in me bed, but I don't want to ever hear
again about you joinin' in no car chase after some punk or drunk or
whatever. There's no criminal alive that's worth your life, you
hear me?"
Pascoe smiled affectionately, nodded then led his willing boss to the
large bed to begin Andrew Dalziel's sojourn as friend, boss, and lover.
THE END
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