Post by do on Aug 31, 2009 10:19:19 GMT -5
16th January 2170
January was never a good month for Tom Merrick.
This one was proving no exception. It amazed him that twelve months had gone by so quickly and last year at this time, the dates had meant nothing. The days had bled into each other, one after the other, tumbling along until finally it was February and then March and then April after that. After the hurdle of last January was crossed, time seemed to resume its normal flow, leaving Tom alone for the rest of the year.
December had flown by. It was Lexie's third birthday, the first one without Alex and that had been tough but his little girl was going to have the best time and so Tom threw himself in to making sure she had her party with cake and all the other things that went with it. Then of course, the holidays had followed swiftly and for those Sharks who had no family to share it with, Tom found himself hosting a Christmas bash with Derick, Julian, Celine, hell, he even told McRae to bring Mercer. What the fuck, right?
However, on New Year's Eve, his chest began to tighten and something began to fray at his consciousness, tugging at the strands of his mind. Something black and ugly that even eclipsed the secret anger he felt at letting McRae slip through his fingers when he had the chance. Only after the holidays had ended and he had returned to the Barn did he realise what it was.
The 16th of January was coming.
In fact, every day between the 16th and the 19th was tormenting him with its presence.
The words 'anniversary' pealed like the bells of the vicar leading a funeral cortege.
Last year, he had barely had sense enough to register that Alex died three days after their wedding anniversary. This year, he was perfectly aware of it because he had to cope with the knowledge that on the 16th of this month three years ago they had married and then on the 19th of this month one year ago, he had lost her at Azati Prime.
He was determined to hold it together when he came to work and found that coffee was made and that Vicky was at her desk as usual, ensuring the haphazard mess of his usual field reports were collated into some kind of literate form. She glanced up from her terminal when he entered, her expression one of gentle kindness.
"Good morning, Thomas," she greeted as he walked towards his office. "How are you this morning?"
"I’m good, Vicks," Tom said automatically, sensing the platitudes that wanted to come but Vicky knew him well enough to know that it was best to leave him be.
"Mrs. Hayes is in your office."
"Mrs. Hayes?" Tom chuckled despite his mood. It was fucking surreal sometimes hearing Ren being called that. To him, she'd always be Orphan Annie or Corporal Richards. Then again, if someone had told him four years ago that he'd be Colonel Merrick, a widower with a little girl to raise, he would have thought them crazy too. Life was funny like that.
"What can I do for you, Ren?" Tom asked when he entered his office and saw Ren leaning against his desk. Once again, he never got used to seeing her out of uniform and these days, she looked very much the governor's wife, hell, she even had that crazy red hair straightened so that it was now a rich, auburn sheen.
"Well I was wondering whether if Lexie and Chrissie had a play date?" She asked. "You know how they love playing together."
"I thought it was her bossing your son around…" Tom pointed out with a little smirk as he rounded the desk and lowered himself into his chair.
"Well, she might as well learn young how to do it right," Ren said with a wink. "Besides, its been awhile since Chrissie's had a chance to play with Lexie. It will be fun."
"Bloody hell, luv, you've got to stop calling him that," Tom retorted, echoing Derick's chagrin. "You'll turn him queer."
"Oh, for God's sake," Ren rolled her eyes. Men. Honestly. "So what do you say…"
"Ren," Tom let out a deep breath, suspecting she had an ulterior motive from get go. "You don't have to take Lexie. I know you're aware of the date. I'm fine, luv. Thank you for the offer."
"Captain," she replied reaching for his hand. "I'd like to do this. I know this day's tough on you. I was there, remember?"
Tom raised his eyes to her green ones. She was. Ren had been present when he was given the news. She had called Derick, she had made sure he hadn't done anything foolish. She and Derick might have saved him that day. "You were."
"Let me take her for the night, you go out with Gunny and drown yourself in synth or something… just don’t sit at home and…."
"Torture myself?" He looked at her.
"Something like that," she said gently. "You go out, toast your wife and celebrate her life, not wallow in pain that she's gone. Then you can come get Lexie the next day. You know Gabe and I will be happy to have her. I mean with two, what's one more, right?" She smiled.
Tom considered her words, "Alright then." He gave in, thinking that Alex would have had no patience with self pity. "You can pick up her up at the house. I'll let Meda know you're coming."
~~~~~
It was almost the night of the 17th before Ren finally decided to call someone. Gunny was on manoeuvres, due back that night or the next morning. She hadn't known that when she offered to take Lexie from Tom. Ren was certain though Derick planned on being back for the 19th. No way would he allow the Captain to go through that day on his own. She hadn't wanted to tell Gabe yet that Lexie's father hadn't shown. The Governor would only complicate things by calling out the dogs.
If Ren hadn't two little ones of her own, she would have gone out there and search for the man herself so she paced and pretended to hide her anxiety, even though she told Gabe that nothing was wrong and Tom had asked her to keep Lexie a little longer.
When he had gone into his study, Ren did something she hadn't done before and she hoped the woman wasn't put off too much by her calling.
Contacting Sloane McRae, Ren went outside with the communicator under the pretext of a walk.
Putting the oil and and rag down, Sloane left her dismantled weapon on the table and went to answer the call. "McRae." She expected it to be Merrick, or maybe Mercer, back early or something.
"Hello, Colonel McRae?"
A beat. "Ren?" There were few moments in her life that she saw with gut-wrenching clarity. Ren Richards Hayes calling her house the day after Tom and Alex Merrick's wedding anniversary was one of them. Feeling faint, Sloane clenched her fists. "What happened?"
Thank Christ, she didn't have to go into detail. "I don't know," she said honestly. "I offered to take Lexie for a play date yesterday. You know because…" she didn't have to say it, Sloane knew. "The thing is, he was supposed to come in today to get her but he hasn't. I called the Barn and Victoria, his secretary said he didn't show up this morning. Derick's due back tomorrow I think… he's on manoeuvres. I don't want to involve Gabe yet, you know how the Captain is about that…"
"Yeah," Sloane said, her throat tight, her heart beating so loud she thought she might miss what Ren might say next. At least Lexie was safe. "I went by his house last night... didn't see any lights... figured he was out with Der." Shit. She should have checked with Rickman. She ran a shaky hand through her hair. "Look, gimme an hour or so. I'll have a look around."
"Do you want some help?" Ren asked, glancing over her shoulder at the house. "I could leave the kids with Gabe."
About to say no, Sloane thought better of it. Ren had earned the right to be there just as much as she had. "If you think it won't raise Gabe's suspicions..." The last thing they needed was Gabe going ape on Tom's ass.
"I'll tell him I have to go out for female things... trust me, he won't ask..." Ren retorted.
That got a smile out of Sloane despite the situation. "Alright, meet you at Merrick's in ten?" Might as well start there, in case he had never left his house.
"Ten minutes," Ren nodded. "See you soon."
Ten minutes later, Ren showed up at the Merrick home after being told quite pointedly by Gabriel that there was such a thing as too much information and there were things he preferred not to know. Slipping on jeans and her old combat boots, they were still the most comfortable things she had to walk in, Ren went to her meeting with Sloane McRae.
Sloane had already been inside and was just walking back out when she saw Hayes' wife walk up the path. "Hey," she let out, her face not able to hide her agitation and worry. "Got away clean?" she teased, knowing Gabe too well.
"For now," Ren shrugged. "I got the lecture about too much information but other than that, it's fine. Next time, I'll try yeast infection instead." Ren often used humour to diffuse her anxiety. She hoped Sloane got that and didn't think Gabe had married a nut.
In different circumstances, Sloane would have chuckled. Right now, she was a little too stressed out. But she still gave her a half smile, imagining Gabe dealing with that. Glancing back at the house, she cut to the chase. "He's not in, obviously... and there's no sign of booze," Sloane said with a slight shrug, not pussy-footing around what both of them feared might have happened. "But that doesn't mean anything. He..." Sloane sighed. "He hasn't slept at the house, Ren."
"Fuck," Ren cursed under her breath. "I thought I was helping taking Lexie but maybe I made it worse." She shook her head. "We should try Beasts. If he went anywhere for downtime, that's a place to start."
Sloane nodded, locking the house behind her. As they headed to Fabien's, Sloane turned to Ren. "I don't think it's your fault... I checked his messages and..." Shit. Even Sloane had trouble keeping her eyes dry just listening to it earlier and it was just as hard to mention now. "Infinity... you know that restaurant... they called to confirm their table."
"Table?" Ren didn't get it for a minute. "What table… Oh God," she felt silent. "They didn't." What must have Tom thought when he heard that? The day difficult enough, that would have been brutal.
"Yeah." Sloane shuddered. She had planned to stick to him like glue on the 19th, but not for yesterday. She hadn't wanted to crowd him. She had let him know she was around, sans Mercer, but beyond that she knew it would have annoyed the hell out of him if she'd come around to hold his hand all day. No, Rickman was better for that. A men thing. She had no idea Derick wasn't going to be there.
"Was Derick on manoeuvres yesterday too then?"
I believe so," Ren nodded. "I only know because I checked at the Barn. Since I left the service, I don't have as much time to know what everyone's doing as much." It was the only regret Ren had about quitting, the friends left behind. More like family really. "I do believe Tom was fine yesterday. He would have told Derick to go and he seemed fine when I saw him that morning. A little sad maybe but that's to be expected."
Crap. Sloane wished she had been told. Why hadn't Derick told her? They were on speaking terms, were they not? Hell, they'd all spent Christmas together at Tom's. But what was done was done and if Tom had told Derick to clear off, there wasn't much Derick could have done about it.
"Alright, let's check Beasts," she said as they approached. "But I think Fabien would have called..."
"You're right," Ren shrugged. "Of course, we could be overreacting. He could have found himself some company, decided to vanish for two days..." Even as she said it, she knew that wasn't it. "I'm rambling. Sorry."
"You're alright." She glanced at her. "Trust me, I wish this was a Brandi and Candi extended trip..."
"They've apparently moved onto greener pastures," Ren remarked as they continued towards Beasts from Earth Quarter where Tom lived. "He's been clean for seven years, you don't really think..."
Of course, Tom hadn't lost his wife either and that was just the kind of thing that could tip a recovering alcoholic over the edge.
"That's exactly what I'm fearing," Sloane told her. "That message from the restaurant..." Yeah, that was exactly what she was thinking and trying to convince herself there was a better, nicer explanation for his absence.
Crap," Ren sighed as they continued walking in silence for a time, both probably thinking the same thing, worrying about the same thing. "I should have left Lexie with him." Although even as Ren said it, she didn't know whether or not Tom would have held enough together to not have a drink with the child present. In retrospect, she didn't want to know the answer to that question... ever.
Silently following the same path in her head as Ren had, Sloane shook her head slightly. "We'll never know so don't beat yourself over it." Chances were, once Lexie had gone to bed, the possibility of having just one drink would have been too hard to pass up. And one drink would have lead to plenty more.
"Yeah, you're right," Ren nodded, taking the other's woman's counsel. "So are you stationed permanently down here or are you still on the NX these days?" Ren asked in an effort to change the subject so they didn't let their minds assume the worst, any more than they already did.
"Down here. Working with the Grifters now." Sloane watched the redhead, liking her easy manner but also vaguely remembering the fifteen year old she'd spoken with all those years ago. "Set that up as soon as we could swing it, you know, at the end of the war, with Alex gone..." She knew Ren had taken care of Lexie plenty of times whilst juggling with her own kids. "Staying on the NX would have kept me away for too long, too often," she said with some regret, guessing distance hadn't helped her relationship with Derick. Hell, if someone knew about that it would be Ren. Sloane knew how tight she was with the ex Gunny. "Besides, I'm happy with that. Was never one for the big Berthas," she added, speaking of the large spaceships in general, the Enterprise included.
"Well, it's good that you're around for Lexie," Ren added. "Every time I sit, it's Aunty Woan this, Aunty Woan that. She really adores you, you know?" The former sergeant offered the Lt. Colonel a smile. "Tom's a lot of things but handling some aspects of raising a girl is going to be tough for him."
"I know." She nodded, thinking fondly on Tom Merrick, despite what he might be up to this very second. "And I love Lexie to bits. Couldn't stay away..." She returned her smile. "What about you? I know you donned the uniform again during the war... is it all packed up again?"
Part of her envied Ren. Envied her life and her kids. A life she had wanted with Derick once the war was over. Thing was, they hadn't lasted to see the end of the conflict. There was always Jake but they were far from being at that stage.
"Yeah," Ren nodded, "its packed for good now. Between two kids, wife and sometimes Governor's escort, it was pulling me in too many directions. Besides, I've always wanted a big family. Gabe's got this thing in his head if we have any more, he'll be decrepit by the time they're grown." Ren rolled her eyes, figuring Sloane would understand Gabe better than anyone.
"The old man still carrying on about his age?" She was smiling but she knew Gabe had a real issue with this... Derick's youth a really blow to his ego when the chips had fallen down near five years ago.
Coming up to the Slain Beasts, Sloane steeled herself. She really didn't want to see Merrick in there.
Entering the tavern, there was no sign of Tom and Ren had serious doubts whether Fabien would have served him alcohol anyway, not without letting Derick or McRae know first. Tom's poison of choice when in Beasts was imported synthethol. Perfectly safe.
If he wasn't at Beasts however, then he could either be at Ruby's or the Outpost. Those were the three main watering holes in Gaia.
"Let's head to Ruby's," Sloane said, half happy Merrick hadn't been here, rolling under a table after all. "I'm going to call Hunter. Check with him at The Outpost." This was taking too long.
Ren nodded, unaware of any kind of relationship that anyone of them might have with Sully, although she couldn't say for certain. Ruby's was mostly Fleet and Ren couldn't imagine the Colonel going there but then again, if he did not want to be found, what better place for a shark to hide from other sharks than a fleet bar.
"I'm getting a real bad feeling about this," Ren sighed.
"Me too," Sloane agreed before raising Hunter Bryce on the comms as they walked towards Sullivan's place.
"Hunter? Yeah, it's McRae... huh-huh. Yeah, sweet thing, your little sister. Yeah. Hey, look. Weird ass question but have you seen Colonel Merrick at your bar?" Sloane shook her head to let Ren know Bryce's answer. "Yeah, I know, he doesn't really hang there... it's your pretty face he can't stand," she joked. "No, that's fine. Just call me if you see him. Cheers." Well, that was that, she thought, severing the connection. "Hasn't been at The Outpost and Hunter's been minding the bar since last night," she filled Ren in.
"Damn," Ren cursed. "It's Ruby's then or maybe that seedy little dive at Brasov. It's barely a bar, just a place for outbounders to get a quick drink."
"True. Hadn't thought of that place..."
The two women arrived at Ruby's and Sloane found herself hesitating. She turned to Ren. "Feels like damned if you do and damned if you don't, huh?" She didn't want to find Tom in there but at the same time it would end this crazy search. She reached out and pulled the door open.
"No shit," Ren agreed, following the woman close behind as they stepped into Ruby's and found themselves knee deep in Fleeters drinking and having a good time. However, for all the cat calls, whistles and invitations, there was no sign of the Colonel and Ren was getting anxious because it was getting late and she couldn't keep up the search much longer. Yet, she was torn about leaving her commanding officer. Sure, Gabe was technically in charge of all Sharks but Ren had always held fealty to one Tom Merrick.
Walking back out, leaving the sea of blue behind, Sloane caught Ren's furtive look at her watch. "You should head on home. I'll keep you posted," she offered.
"I hate leaving him like this but I better get back and keep the wolf from getting too suspicious," Ren said with a little smile. "Besides, leaving him with three kids might be a bit much even for Gabe to handle."
Sloane let out a chuckle at that. "Yeah. I'd say major priority is to keep Gabe off his scent for as long as possible. I'll find him."
"Okay," Ren nodded, "I'll head off home and you're going to check out Brasov?" she inquired.
"Yeah," she said, already starting to walk away. "I'm going to get a skimmer and head out there. Thanks for contacting me, Ren."
"Anything for the Colonel," Ren replied. "Find him please, Sloane."
"Will do." With that, Sloane took off at a jog.
Heading towards the vehicle pool, Sloane realised all the paperwork that would engender and thought better of it. "Screw that. It would take too long," she muttered to herself and instead headed straight to Brasov, even though, surely Merrick wouldn't be there. But then again, if he wanted to hide and get pissed drunk...
If it turned out he wasn't there, then she'd go requisition a skimmer to go around the whole of damn Gaia, turning every goddamn stone.
Sloane made her way to the spaceport double-time. Passing happy people going about their evening, either coming or going, she had never realised there were so many shuttles landing and taking off before. When she found the bar, she slowed down and took a breath. If he was in there, she wasn't sure how she should react... how to approach him. Shit. If he was in there, it was only for one reason and he would have been at it since last night at least.
Alright, McRae. Go the fuck in.
Nodding to the big guy working the door, she put up with his appreciative glance before she pushed the door open and scanned the place.
"GO GO GO!"
The crowd was chanting as Tom Merrick, who had already built himself an impressive formation of shot glasses in gin, put the finishing touches to his construct.
"Last one, luvlies," he slurred, unsteady hands putting the last glass on top of the pyramid before he stumbled and toppled the whole thing over, causing riotous laughter from his gallery of observers. "Oh well then." He tossed everyone a look, including a rather shapely redhead named Mindy or some fucking thing. "Guess, I'll have to start all over again. Barkeep, bring us another, eh!"
Fuck.
Sloane passed a hand over her face as people crowded her, rowdy and laughing, bumping her around slowly in Merrick's direction.
This was not happening. Applying the brakes before Merrick could see her, Sloane beelined for the ladies room - if they had such a thing in this place.
By the time she made it there, she was almost breathless. The bugger was so far gone, there was no way she could possibly remove him on her own and calling Ren would only bring Hayes around.
Getting her comms out, she called the only bloke who could manhandle Merrick if need be. Manoeuvres or not, she needed him here. It took some work but she finally got connected.
*
Captain Devereux was giving the lecture this time around on basic field maintenance of your equipment. Derick stood at the back of the clearing, experienced eyes roaming through the heads leaning together to discuss the Captain's methods. At least, they'd better be. He and Johnny usually swapped out on this particular lecture in the course of things.
Derick had just moved over near two particularly talkative maggots when the comms officer, Lieutenant Rodriquez, appeared in the clearing and raised a hand to get his attention. Not wishing to interrupt Devereux, Derick leaned his head over to indicate the far end of the clearing. When the LT joined him, he was holding out a comm device. Taking it, Derick eyed him. "What?"
"Not sure, Colonel McRae, sir."
Sloane? That got Derick's attention. Why would she be contacting him? Although, Derick glanced at his watch automatically, where the date was visible. OH no.. no nono... with a sinking feeling, he ducked back further into the tree line. "Rickman," he answered.
"Der." Fuck. Sloane slammed the door shut to keep the loud music out after some woman had waltzed in, leaving it open. "Derick?"
That sinking feeling in his chest slunk down past his ribs. "Yeah, Sloane. What's up?" he asked, using first names since she'd used his. Something most people might have overlooked but Derick knew her. If this was military, she'd have used his rank or at the least, his last name.
She let out a ragged breath when she heard his tone. It was really happening and Rickman could tell, miles away. "It's Tom. Been missing since last night. I just found him. He's... fine," she quickly added, suddenly realising Rickman could have envisaged the worst... Tom dead, having choked on his own vomit. "Well, if you count shit-faced as fine."
In actuality, Derick's worst case scenario was Tom falling off the wagon. Death was something he'd come to terms with years ago, oddly enough. Shit-faced. Squatting down against a tree, Derick rubbed his face. "I don't," he replied quietly. "Where is he?" If the Outpost, he was going to have a word or six with Bryce, who should know better. Then again, the man did take time off now and again. Fabien would never serve Tom alcohol. "Where is he?"
"I found him in that hole at Brasov... shit, Der, I was about to go check every ditch around town." She didn't bother hiding her worry, not from him. "I'm... look, I hate to ask you, but I won't be able to get him out of here on my own. Mind coming back and helping me with him?"
Mind? Of course not. Frowning, Derick nodded before realizing she couldn't see him. "Yeah, look.. give me a few minutes to settle things here and I'll come in. Meet me outside, alright?"
Thank god. "I've already sent a transport. Should be there..." She glanced at her watch. "Well, right about when you'll be ready to leave. I'm planning to stay in a corner, keep my eyes on him. Don't want to spook him. But yeah, I'll try and head outside before you get here." Shit, she was rattled.
Listening to her, Derick found old habits coming back. He heard the worry, the fear. "I'll be there as soon as I can," he told her, cutting the communication. If she had a skimmer on the way, it would be here soon.
Putting her comm unit away, Sloane sighed. She'd had to call on a few favours just now to keep this below radar. She hoped no one would rat them out come morning. She didn't want to have to face off Gabe with this.
Biting the bullet, Sloane headed back out into the crowd, circling Merrick and his party of drunks from what she hoped was a safe distance.
*
Oblivious to the fact that he was being watched, the girl, whose name turned out to Melinda, had sidled alongside of Tom, wrapping arm around his waist with a come hither look and lips that Der would describe as being capable of sucking off chrome. "Sorry, luv," he said, waiting for his next round. "I'm pining for me lost love." He laughed but through the alcohol soaked neurons in his brain, it didn't seem all that funny.
Sweeping his gaze around the room, Tom caught sight of a familiar face.
"MCRAE!"
"Shit." Sloane muttered, ducking her head. She had hoped to stay on the sidelines, keeping an eye on him until Rickman made it back. No such luck. She hid the fact she was weirded out by seeing him drunk off his ass after so long and plastered a smile on her face.
"Merrick!" She greeted him in a similar manner.
"Hullo, luv." He left the Marissa or Melina or whatever the fuck her name was at the bar and came up to McRae, catching her by the waist and smiling. "How's the best looking bird capable of kicking my arse doing tonight?"
"I'm good." Sloane smiled despite herself, remembering the number of times she had seen Merrick like that in the past. But that was just it. Past. This shouldn't be happening. "Having a bit of a party tonight, huh?"
"I'm having the best party, luv," Tom replied, hands gliding over her waist, pulling her close. "Better one now that you're here."
Chuckling nervously, Sloane put her hands on his shoulders. Shit, he smelled like the bottom of a keg and then some. And despite the booze, she spied the sorrow there, in his eyes. Her heart clenched and she had to look away. "You made some new friends?"
"Oh, yeah." Tom nodded, regarding the woman at the bar and the other blokes there. "Let's see that's Mandy or Melissa or something, and Boris, Spike, I'm not sure about that lot there in the corner." He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "But they're pretty pissed though so I wouldn't make a big deal out of them not knowing their names too well."
And they weren't the only ones pissed. But Sloane didn't say anything, didn't let her face show her anxiety, disappointment... her pain at seeing him hurt that way.
"Okay," she replied in conspiratory tone. "I won't worry about it then."
Taking her by the waist, he led her back to the bar. "Everyone, say hullo Sloane McRae. The toppest bird in the whole of fucking Gaia. You lot..." He looked at the drunks in the corner. "Don't even think of cracking onto her, she's real men. Sharks. Fleeters and civilians need not apply."
"Nononono..." she started to say but it was no use. Merrick was in a alcohol-infused happy place and wasn't paying attention. It was a damn miracle he'd noticed her at all, Sloane surmised. "Hi, guys." She waved rather lamely.
"And she smells bloody good too," he replied. "Barkeep, bring the lady a drink and another shot of gin for me, please. I'm building a tower. I going to call it the Iron Bastard Edifice to the Stars."
"I what..?" Sloane let go, not really wanting to know. She tried to wave the barkeep off but two shots came anyway.
Tom had the shot glass in his hand before it even came to a stop and tossed back the shot, slamming the glass down. "Come on, luv." He nudged her. "Drink up. One more and that will put the red in that wild cherry gear you got on under there."
Sloane tried to dodge drinking it but Merrick wasn't giving her any quarter. Especially when he went on and mentioned her damn underwear. After that, she needed the fucking shot and downed it. God, strike me now.
"That's a go, luv." Tom grinned happily. "Another round for my best girl!" he said and then paused a moment. Best girl. "For my friend!" he repeated.
"No, no, Tom. I'm good, really." Shit, what could she do to move him away from the damn bar. "Wanna dance?" But as soon as she said it, she was kicking herself. Might not be a good idea since he'd already commented on her smell...
"Whatever the lady wants." Tom smirked, grabbing a bottle of something that didn't belong to him and swigging it before setting it down again. He slipped an arm around her waist and spun her around. "Shall we dance, my ladyship?"
"Yes." She forced a smile. Anything to keep you away from another shot, she thought. "You haven't lost your touch," she told him, her eyes glancing at the door. Come on, Rickman.
*
The skimmer brought him to Brasov in record time and Derick suspected the word 'Colonel' had something to do with the lead foot. Stepping off it, he didn't see Sloane anywhere. Shit. As he approached the entrance, the bouncer, a big Samoan guy named Tiny nodded at him.
"Ey, Rickman, you got no time for clothes, brau?" he said, eyeing the bdus and the mud and dirt.
"No." Derick shook his head, taking the man's arm clasp in greeting. "How you been?"
"Ehh, hanging in there, brau. Shaka..." he said, waving Derick past.
Moving into the bar, with everyone cutting him a wide path, Derick moved to a good recon spot. The uniform had something to do with the berth people gave him although Derick suspected the look on his face probably screamed 'I'm on a mission'. Finally, he caught sight of them, Sloane first, on the dance floor and he moved to where she'd see him. Where maybe Tom wouldn't. Just yet.
"You know what, McRae?" Tom said, holding her. "We should go to Infinity's - seems like I got fucking reservations there still. After a year. Can you believe it?"
"Yeah," she let out on a breath, her throat constricting again as she thought of Alex and Tom on their wedding day. "I know." She didn't mention the table had been for the night before. Tom was beyond caring about such details. "Pen-pushers, you know how they are." She squeezed his shoulder while she glanced around, looking for the door as Merrick danced her around, and passing, she spotted Rickman in the crowd of punters, sporting muddy BDUs and an ominous look on his face. She nodded his way barely then looked back at Merrick.
"At that fucking table," Tom said, sounding not so drunk. "She told me they offered her that bloody commission. She said that maybe it wasn't such a good fucking idea that she take it. I convinced her." He laughed. "I fucking convinced her to take on a starship command. Sure, it was what she wanted to fucking do but you think I could have told her about the fine fucking print? You know the dying?"
Sloane blinked, not sure what to do. He was about to fall apart and she couldn't think of anything to say that would change the fact Alex was gone. "She knew the fine print, Tom..."
"Yeah, I tell myself that," Tom said, breaking away from her, heading straight for the bar and that bottle. It was someone's scotch and he more or less drained the bottle.
"Tom..." But he was gone. Sloane turned to Rickman. She had no fucking idea what to do.
The look on Sloane's face told him everything. Battle Bitch maybe, but that beautiful face was expressive when you knew how to read it. And Derick did. Intimately. Just like he knew how to read Tom. And Tom... Christ, watching him, Derick was torn. Part of him, the eleven year old kid finding his dad drunk again after a promise to stop, wanted to rage, to lash out, to hurt.
Just like the hurt Derick felt burning him up inside right now. And yet another part wanted Derick to join his friend, to get drunk, to forget about things. Forget about this. Just one night, the demon soothed, and it would be over. Things would be back to normal. This never happened.
Too bad Derick knew better, having partied with the demon of denial way too often. Moving out onto the floor, he passed Sloane as he followed his friend, with a quick squeeze to her shoulder. "I got him," he said quietly.
Sloane nodded her thanks, her hand going to squeeze his as he let go of her shoulder. "I'll be here," she said, letting him know she would give them some space.
Only nodding, Derick moved forward, that noxious feeling in his gut sinking to lead in his feet. He slid up next to Tom at the bar, shaking his head subtlety at the bartender. Maybe it was the look on his face, but the guy left them alone. "Hey, buddy," Derick said, clapping a hand on Tom's shoulder.
Tom looked over a shoulder and broke into a grin. "Uh oh," he said to the bartender. "I think I'm in trouble."
He turned to Derick. "A funny thing happened to me at the office today dear... or was it yesterday... sometime." He took a swig of the bottle. "Seems like... there was a bar and I fell into it. Completely not my fault. Won't do it again and hey... weren't you supposed to be manoeuvring something?"
Derick grinned, in spite of himself, in spite of the little voice niggling away that Tom was lying, lying, lying. "I was, we came back a while ago." A lie as well. However, Tom wouldn't know the difference in this state. "You been here since yesterday?"
"Was it yesterday?" Tom asked, looking at him. "Times flies when you're having fun or is that getting pissed? I forget." He smirked and took another drink. "Barkeep, bring my mate a drink. Hey look, you're here, McRae's here and if we can get Orphan Annie here, the gang would be here, all of us, except of course..." He blinked slowly and turned away to the counter. "One more of these, please." He slammed the bottle on the surface. "Don't spare the change."
Derick nailed the bartender with a look that said, bring that bottle and I'll kill you where you stand. Maybe not that threatening from other people but at 6'4", in combat boots and muddy bdu's, Derick made quite a statement. The bartender nodded in return.
Except one of us. Derick felt the ache in his chest over the loss, over the loss of Tom, even if for one night. "You make some new friends?" he asked, eyeing the people at the bar who were looking at Tom and then at him, as if trying to decide if trouble was brewing.
"There was a bird that sucked a chrome something but she fucked off when our best girl got here." He tossed McRae a grin. "Thank God, she left fucking Mercer home, eh?" he said quietly. "But this lot has been keeping me company, helping me build me tower." He gestured to the collection of shot glasses.
"I see that," Derick nodded, stopping count at twenty and not being half done. He also knew better than to answer anything about Mercer. To him, Jay Mercer was a decent guy. Not afraid of Sloane and he respected her, which was all Derick could ask for since he could no longer claim ownership over her lady parts.
"Hey, I got an idea," Derick said, glancing back to find Sloane watching them. "Why don't you, me and Sloane go back to my place. Jules made some pizza the other day. All we have to do is throw it in the oven. What do you say?"
Sloane had approached the bar a little but was still staying clear of earshot. She caught both men's looks in turn, a grinning shit-faced one and a stormy blue one she recognised easily. At least they were still talking, she figured that was a good sign.
"I got a better idea," Tom replied bitterly. "We should go to Infinity's. They've got a fucking table there for me. Rang me up and told me would Mrs. Merrick and I be joining them yesterday evening." Lowering his voice an octave, he said, "I don't think they heard the news."
How could they have NOT heard the fucking news?? He was going to kill that stuck up asshole that ran the place. Thirty-five fucking ships, couldn't they think that at least one of their clientele would be in that mess? Make them clean up the inevitable mess. Derick grit his teeth, knowing now why Tom was here. Why he was like this... a none-too-subtle reminder of the aching, oozing hole of raw emotion tearing Tom in two.
"Well, that's only for two and we got three. Four, if we ring up Richards and you know she'd want to bring Gabe, so that's five." Yes, Derick knew what he was doing.
"No fucking way." Tom shook his head, face curling in disgust. "That's all I need. Gabriel Loman Hayes, telling me he knows how I feel." Tom laughed. "That's a lot of fucking shit. His wife is at HOME. With her kids. I don't even have a fucking body to bury! There wasn't enough of her left for me to plant in the ground!" He shattered the bottle against the floor and looked up. "Well, I think it's time I'm leaving."
He staggered past Derick, heading for the door.
Sloane jumped at Merrick's sudden outburst. So much for the talking... As he stood up, swaying plenty, she took a step back.
Derick's hand went up to warn one of Tiny's men away, alerted by the breaking glass. Letting Tom get a few feet in front of him, Derick caught up easily, sliding an arm easily around the shorter man's shoulders. "C'mon. We won't call Ren," he said, hoping he could at least get Tom out of here before someone called Security. "Just come with me, old man. I'll take you somewhere else, ok?"
"Who you calling old?" Tom snorted before adding, "You want to buy me dinner before you grab me like that, mate."
"Dinner works." Derick forced a grin, his hand tightening on Tom's shirt collar. "Let's go to that new barbecue joint."
"I don't see a lot of bloody cows on Gaia, Derick." Tom looked at him through gin-coloured vision. "What do they barbecue?"
Sloane licked her lips nervously, watching both men head on out. Well, at least they were going to get him out of here without a brawl. She approached the barkeep, throwing him some credits. Her eyes could have cut glass. "If he ever walks back in here, you call me, you here? Or I swear I'll have your ass in a sling."
The man nodded and Sloane threw him one last disgusted look before heading for the door herself.
Shooting Tom an evil grin, Derick glanced at Sloane when she emerged from the bar. "Shredders," he teased. "Or maybe they import cows from Betazed. They don't eat them there. Something about knowing what your food is thinking."
"Thinking food?" Sloane asked casually as she approached them, prepared for drunk banter but Tom shifted gears.
"Oh fuck." Tom suddenly looked up. "I got to get my kid. I left her with Orphan Annie. Got to get my Lexie," he said, breaking away from Derick.
As Merrick seemed to turn lucid for a moment, real panic in his voice, Sloane turned to him. "Tom... Tom, Lexie is alright. I saw Ren earlier."
Oh hell fucking no. "Yeah, Ren's got her," Derick replied, backing Sloane up. "She and Chris are probably finger-painting Gabe by now," he said, his hand tightening on Tom's shirt. Shooting a look at Sloane, Derick figured she'd know that things were going downhill from here.
Catching the look, Sloane nodded, anxious but resigned. "Or better yet, the kids are already asleep after a great slumber party." She wanted to get the idea of picking up Lexie tonight out of Tom's head. The kid didn't need to see him like this.
"You did?" Tom was starting to come down from the booze high, the chill of the night air playing havoc with his senses. "Well, that's nice of you but I can't be imposing on Orphan Annie much longer. Got to get my kid. Come on, Der, let's go howl at Gabe's place, see if the old bastard is still awake."
No freaking way. Sloane looked to Derick.
"Tom." Derick stood still, his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Not tonight, alright?" he said, neck rolling to one side to crack vertebra. For the first time ever, he wished he didn't know Tom so well. He wished he didn't know what was coming, where this would end and most of all, Derick felt all that inner hatred of himself raging back. And the kicker..? He let it. He needed it, to go to the place Tom was right now.
"Don't tell me what to do...CAPTAIN," Tom snapped. "If I want to get my fucking daughter I will get her. Fuck knows that's all I got bloody left." He broke away from Derick and started off.
Sloane rolled her eyes at Merrick fucking calling rank. In his state. Again, her eyes met Derick's. Do what you have to do, they said.
Nodding, Derick went forward quickly. Sober, Tom might have seen what was coming but then, sober, he wouldn't have had to do this. With a long, solid leg, he quickly swept Tom's feet out from under him and when he hit the ground, Derick was on him, not giving his friend a chance to get back up.
"You want her to see you like this??" he growled, fists in Tom's collar as he hauled his head up. "Oh yeah, I see it now..." Derick sneered viciously and though he was angry, most of it was overplayed on purpose. "You want little Lexie to hurt just like Little Tommy was, don't you? Want Auntie Sloane to tell her that .. oh it's okay, baby, he just gets mad sometimes? Is that it??"
Oh. God. Sloane slapped a hand to her mouth in shock. She'd expected... shit, she'd expected Derick to knock him out cold. Something. Not that. But she knew of Derick's past and fuck this couldn't be a good trip down memory lane for him either. But maybe it would get Tom to realise where he was headed if he carried on.
The thought was unimaginable.
The suggestion even more profane.
If anything could cut through the alcoholic fugue that Tom Merrick was currently in, that was it. He looked up at Derick, whose face was close enough, words spilling from his mouth that frankly made him sick. With far more speed and driven by adrenaline and pure outrage, Tom's fist flew, caught Derick in the jaw as he growled, "I...would...never...hurt...Lexie that way. Where do you get off saying that! WHERE?" Straightening up, barely able to focus, he turned away from both of them. "You've made your fucking point, now leave me the fuck alone."
Shit. "Merrick." Sloane was in front of him in seconds, giving time for Derick to find his feet again. That had been one hell of a slug. "You know we can't do that... not like that."
"I'm going home," Tom said, words slurred. "You both made your bloody point, alright." Rage was making him clearer. "Just leave me alone," he tried to walk past her. "I don't need your fucking sympathy or anything else. She's not your daughter, she's mine. SO just piss off and go back to fucking Mercer."
From happy drunk to sad drunk to... mean drunk. Bravo, Tommy Boy.
Feeling like she'd been sucker punched, Sloane blinked, her face a mask but fuck... of all the things he could have told her... after Alex, Risa, the baby... he'd picked the right ones to hurt her and deep. And the words were rolling out of her mouth before she could check them. "Fuck you."
"Been there, done that." And he kept walking.
Bastard.
Sloane didn't even think twice. Her leg shot out, kicking the back of Merrick's knee as he passed her, bringing him down. At least for a moment.
Temper flared again in Derick, that part of him that still cared for Sloane, that always would, but not over her new boyfriend. Mercer was a decent guy. "Oh, that's right," Derick said with a mean laugh, having rolled to his feet after Tom's punch. "So what about tomorrow night? Gonna get plastered again? Hell, not like Lexie would remember. She's only three." Julian. Derick. The names were the same. Wouldn't matter that a new one was in the mix if Tom got drunk again so Derick wasn't finished yet. Not by a long shot.
"Right? Tommy?" he said, licking at the blood on his lip as he tugged on Sloane's arm, to put her behind him. "You want to give up on your fucking life, you're not taking that little girl," he continued, because hell, just the thought of the baby cowering behind the couch while Daddy raged on and put holes in the walls and kicked things and stunk up the place made Derick just sick with rage. "You want to fucking give up everything you worked for? Everything Alex believed in you? Everything Lex believes in you? Fine!" he spat. "But you're not taking that little girl into hell with you," he said through clenched teeth.
Tom was on his hands and knees, having not moved after Sloane had put him there.
"You...don't....know...what... it's...like." Fingers dug so hard into the ground, his nails were cracking. He stood up slowly and faced his friends, his angry friends. "You don't know what it's like to not have her here, to go back to that house and know she's not coming back. I'm starting to lose her. I can't remember her as well and I can't remember what she sounds like. I look at pictures and it's fading away. She used to have this scent about her and it followed me all day, I don't even know what it's like anymore. Soon, she'll be gone completely, like she wasn't ever here." The fight had gone out of him. "I'll give her up before I hurt her," he looked at Derick. "You know that. I'd give her up before that ever happened."
And he wasn't talking about Alex.
Feeling like her heart was wrenched out, Sloane knew she could never pretend to fucking know how Merrick really felt. Her eyes welled up with tears and she grabbed Derick's forearm to steady herself... to stop herself from joining their friend down there on her knees to pull him into a tight hug.
Fuck, Tom.
In that black pit of pain and sorrow, she suddenly remembered something. Maybe it was time. She had never thought to share it with Tom, didn't know if Alex had meant for it to be... but tomorrow, when Tom sobered up... maybe. As the idea coalesced in her mind, her tears spilled, remembering Alex's message... her request. Looking at Tom, broken and hurting, Sloane knew she had done a piss poor job of it.
Derick pulled Sloane against him, under a protective arm, hating to see her cry. Hating.. all of this. He put a chaste kiss on the top of her head and looked at Tom. "I know you would. But you know how it is," Derick said soberly. "Shit would happen before you realized it and then it's too late. You can't take back the way she'd flinch whenever you hugged her. Or the fear every night when you come home drunk." Derick shook his head. "You know that too."
That was the thing of it.
He did know. He had lived just like Derick had lived it. There was nothing left inside of him. Just this hollowness that used to be Alex and now wasn't even that. Just emptiness. "Yeah, I know," he nodded. "I'm going home." Tom turned away. "You two can follow me if you like, whatever. I'm just going home."
Sloane glanced up at Derick, her arm tightening around his waist. "He can't be alone tonight," she said softly. But frankly she didn't think Tom wanted her there. It would have to be his best mate.
Looking down at Sloane, Derick smiled sadly and nodded. "Try and get some sleep, okay?" he told her softly and stepped back, following Tom.
Yeah, like she could. Take care of him, she thought, the burn in her chest not abating.
"Not alone... you're not going alone, Tom. You know that too," Derick told his friend, thinking on that night on the Surak. When you couldn't stand between your friends and the world, you stood with them. You didn't abandon them.
"I'll call Ren," she told them as they pulled away. "See you in the morning, alright?"
Tom let out a deep sigh. "Alright." The alcohol was starting to wind its tendrils around his brain again. The adrenaline gone, it made him lose focus and he walked along, not waiting for Derick or Sloane.
Derick nodded to Sloane. By morning, it would be safe for Lexie to come around again. If anything, her presence would bring Tom back to the here and now. For now, though.. Derick would let his friend grieve for the life he wouldn't have now, the grand love Tom might never find again. Tomorrow, he'd have to do what Alex would have wanted, which was to live.
~~~~~
The morning after...
Oh fucking hell.
The infusion of pain that stabbed at his brain the minute Tom Merrick opened his eyes told him just exactly what he had done the night before. That crushing pain inside his skull that felt like artillery fire exploding every neuron he had, made Tom wince and let out a groan. It had been almost seven years since he had felt this and it shocked him how bad it felt because back then, he had woken up to this almost every fucking morning. How the fuck had he put up with it?
Worse yet, his stomach felt like a rubber raft on the bloody North Sea, it was churning and being tossed around and the second thing that Tom realised after he pushed himself off his bedroom floor and headed for the bathroom was the fact that he needed to puke. He staggered in there, each footstep in tune with the explosions in his head, feeling as if he had sand shoved into his eyes and throat. He barely made it to the cistern before he threw up. He knelt there for ten fucking minutes, just upchucking the entire contents of his stomach before he staggered into the shower and let it run. The water woke him up, did not kill the pain but made him remember flashes of the night before.
Pieces returned, Sloane was there. Derick was there. Shit. He remembered Brasov. He remembered that first drink. Everything after that got fuzzy. And then flashes of other things came back. Like what he had said to his friends. Tom staggered out of the shower and puked again. Then he returned and sat on shower floor, letting water run down him while memory graced him with its return and made Tom wish that he had suffered a blackout like in the old days because he just didn't want to remember. When he emerged into the living room, he was clean but his head was pounding. He needed something for his head. Badly.
Sleep had not come for him during the night but if it meant that Tom rested, then Derick would gladly accept the sacrifice. Checking his watch, he figured if Tom didn't come out in a few minutes after the shower went on, he'd go in to check. The first time, Derick had made it to the bedroom door when he heard Tom retching. Leaning against the wall, he stayed there long enough to ensure Tom didn't pass out or something. The second ten minutes, Derick had stopped again at the door, listening. When there was no breaking glass, no sounds of abused porcelain, he'd gone back to the couch and was there when his friend came out. On the coffee table, was a bottle of cold water and ibuprofen for the no doubt raging hangover Tom was suffering.
He looked up as Tom entered, a sigh of relief easing out the tension in his shoulders. "Morning."
"Morning," Tom could barely meet is friend's gaze, going straight to the coffee table and taking the water and the drugs laid out for him. This too, was an altogether too familiar scene, one that Tom hadn't wanted to inflict on his friends again. Derick, waiting for him the next morning, probably having been there the whole night to ensure he didn't do anything stupider than what he had already done. The last time he found Derick like this, he had decked Hayes and was facing oblivion. Fuck. Downing the pills and the water, Tom lowered himself into the chair across the sofa and sat.
"You know what I did last night?" The question was rhetorical.
Derick's look was a bit dull but only due to lack of sleep. Refraining from pointing out the bruise forming over his mouth and cheek, he watched Tom for a moment and sat up a little straighter. "The question is..." he said soberly, eyes locking on his friend. God, he hated to be the one doing this. "Do you?"
When Tom sat down, he saw the bruise and that just made him feel a whole lot fucking worse. "I remember," he said in a slow, measured voice, "that I hit the best friend I ever had." He let out a sigh. "I don't even know if I should apologise. What can I say that you haven't heard before. I didn't mean for this to happen. I swore, mate, I didn't."
What Tom said was true. There wasn't much he hadn't heard, including that promise to never do it again. And what could he say? Derick settled on the truth. "I know," he told Tom, nodding. "And.. I'm still the best friend you ever had."
"I'm sorry, Derick." Tom buried his face in his hands as the drug started to take effect. One hundred years of development and the household painkillers hit you like a ton of bricks, guaranteed to remove all ills within ten minutes of ingestion.
"I was fine for most of the day. It was bloody hard but I managed until I got home and I heard that fucking message and suddenly, I was thinking about the last time Alex and I were there at Infinity's. You were baby sitting for Lexie remember? It was the first night we'd gone out after she had the baby and the war had just started up...we were about to get sent off to Bajor and she got up the nerve to tell me about... about the Saratoga."
"I remember." Derick nodded in encouragement. "You were so proud of her." Don't teach Lexie poker. Get her to eat the carrots. Christ, he couldn't look at carrots today without remembering that. "She looked damn good in that dress."
"Yeah." He nodded with a smile. "I'm having trouble remembering the little things, Derick. The smell of her, the way she laughed, the sound of her voice. I was sitting home, trying to remember those things and I couldn't, it felt like I was losing her all over again. How am I going to tell Lexie about her if I can't remember a bloody thing about her that means anything. It's the little thing that made her so special. How can I live not remembering what all that was?"
"Don't try so hard to remember her," Derick offered. "Like sand, the harder you try, the more it slips through your fingers." The analogy sucked but it made the point. "You'll still remember her, Tom but you know... " He paused. "You know she wouldn't want this. She wouldn't want you living in so much pain."
"I'm scared, mate," he said quietly. "If I let her go... I could lose her completely. It feels like I'm losing her already. I don't feel as bad as I should and yesterday, as tough as it was, I managed. How could I manage? Why should I manage. I shouldn't even have been able to get out of the house, but I did alright. I forgot about the reservation. I should have checked and cancelled that too but I didn't, I forgot."
Derick leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Look, I know I haven't been there but... you'll never lose her, Tom. Never. She was a part of you that will always be there. I don't know what I can say to make that sink in. You may think you're forgetting but I know you. I know you still remember how she laughed at you and Godzilla and how, god, how beautiful she was..." Christ, he was getting angry again. Like last night. His mouth closed, tightly as he fought the anger, the urge to shake Tom until his teeth rattled.
Tom looked away from him. "I think I'm forgetting for an entirely different reason and I feel like shit because of it."
Not answering for a moment, Derick studied Tom quietly. He hadn't expected that. But of everything, it made sense. He inhaled deeply and let it out. "Sloane."
"I shouldn't feel this way," Tom replied. "It makes me sick to my stomach that I feel this way. I shouldn't be forgetting anything about Alex at all."
"You know..." Derick closed his eyes, remembering so many things. "My dad had a girlfriend once." Had he told Tom? That, he couldn't remember. "I told him she was never going to replace my mother and he said.. god, it was like the only time he was ever sober. He said, she's not supposed to. When I told him I was, he said no. He said, that was just Mom making room for the rest of my life. You're not forgetting her, Tom."
"I said things to her..." Tom said quietly, remembering in the shower the words imparted to Sloane McRae the night before. Blackouts at least let you discover through another point of view what an asshole you were but this, this made you remember in Technicolor. Drove home every fucking thing you said and did. He didn't know which was worse.
"You did." He wouldn't lie. "But she knows you don't mean them." Derick offered a slight smile in return.
"Maybe," Tom wasn't so sure. "It doesn’t matter anyway. She's with Mercer and I fucked that up too."
"No, you didn't." Derick watched his friend. "Just wasn't the right time. I mean put yourself in her shoes." God, he didn't believe he was going there. "You're the best friend of her ex-boyfriend AND her best friend. I know her, Tom. She's got issues with that."
Tom shook his head, uncertain if Derick was the best person to talk to about this. "Forget it," he replied. "I've got enough of a mess to clean up without this too."
"Really, man, it's okay." But Derick left the subject alone, as Tom wanted. "Fortunately, I think the only mess you have to clean up is in your bathroom." Leaning out, he reached across the table, hand out. "We're cool. I mean it."
"Are we?" Tom looked at him, taking the hand offered. "Are we really?"
Squeezing tightly, wondering if there was anything he could do to put that doubt to rest, Derick nodded. "Of course we are," he said, pulling Tom up to his feet and into a one-armed hug. "You're my brother, man. Of course, we're okay."
"Well, you're going to need to take the office for a week or two," Tom muttered unhappily. "I'll see if Sloane will take Lexie for that time."
"Why?" Suddenly suspicious, Derick narrowed his eyes at Tom.
"Rehab." Tom frowned, "I'm going back to rehab for a week." He buried his face in his hands. "Go talk to D'Tella, do the program, whatever.. just get some help." He lifted his eyes to Derick.
Derick actually smiled at that. "Whatever I need to do for you, I will." He nodded.
"Thanks." Tom shook his head. "But I bloody suspect the grovelling I'm going to have to do on my own." He thought of Sloane. Fuck all that resentment had poured out of him last night, spilling his guts to how much he hated the fact that she was with Mercer, even though he'd been given the choice to be with her and because he wasn't ready, he'd stepped away and only drove her straight into the arms of another man. Just call him Gabriel Fucking Hayes. The irony was not lost on Tom Merrick.
"Well, yeah.. I ain't grovelling." Derick chuckled. "Whatever you need to me do, as long as you need it, man."
"You're a good mate." Tom stood up, needing coffee. "Better than I deserve."
Knowing that look, Derick pointed to the kitchen. "Pot's fresh, I made it this morning." He wasn't better, he thought to himself. He was exactly what Tom Merrick did deserve.