r a i s e . t h e . d e a d

Raise the Dead
[by victoria p.]

Rating: PG

Summary: He didn't need to watch Meldrick walk away.

Date: December 24, 2004

Did you come here for forgiveness?
Did you come to raise the dead?
~"One," U2

Mike wasn't surprised to see Meldrick at the door. He was just glad neither Stivers nor Falsone was with him.

"What do you want?"

"Can't I come see my old friend Kellerman, and his beautiful boat? Especially since you didn't come see me down at the Waterfront."

"I told you, I've been staying out of bars lately."

"That's not what Falsone said."

That greasy little bastard. "The Straub case would drive anyone to drink," he answered, and didn't bother to disguise his annoyance.

"It was a rough case, all right."

"Whatever." He stared at Meldrick, and Meldrick dropped his gaze first. "What are you really here for?"

"I just thought maybe we could, I don't know. Be friends or something."

"We could--" he couldn't even complete the thought. "You thought we could be friends? After you dicked me over?" He snorted. "I'm not the only one who needs to stay out of Fell's Point watering holes."

"Come on, Mikey, you have to let it go."

"I have to let it--" he laughed bitterly. "That's rich. I save your ass -- not once, but twice -- Mahoney had your gun, Meldrick, because you were a dumbass and got carried away. But I guess that doesn't matter, huh. It don't mean shit that I hauled your ass out of the fire, but when I landed in the jackpot, you were nowhere to be found. You were nowhere, Meldrick, and I needed you. So it's easy for you to let it go, Meldrick. You fuck up and I carry it, and it's like it never happened.

"Some partner you are. Crosetti ate his gun and I wanted to, and where the hell were you?"

"I was right here, Mikey. Right here with you that night you put the gun in your mouth." Meldrick looked at him with big, sad eyes, and part of him wanted to say, Forget it, it's okay. Let bygones be bygones. But then he remembered the looks of contempt on their faces, Frank blaming him for Tim getting shot, because Frank couldn't do what he'd done, and couldn't face that fact. He remembered the sick feeling of failure, of worthlessness, the moment he turned in his badge. He recalled months of drinking until he couldn't see straight, his whole life in the crapper because his partner wouldn't stand up for him, and he couldn't do it.

"Get out, Meldrick. And don't bother to come back. I don't need you now."

The door closed with a satisfying click, and Mike turned back to the television. He didn't watch Meldrick walk away. He'd already seen it once.

end

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Disclaimer: All Homicide characters belong to Barry Levinson, Tom Fontana, NBC and Baltimore Pictures etc. This piece of fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.