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"No, it doesn’t. And don’t delude yourself, people like me have no friends. Go away, Connor."
"All right then, you’re still on the clock so I expect you back in an hour, if you can manage it." Sarcasm and barely concealed rage spilled from Doyle as he all but spat the order out.
"Not on the clock; check the fax, Connor. My resignation's already gone through to Frank. I’m not your problem anymore; there are people out there who need you to worry about them. I don’t."
"Such as?" Connor recognized the shock that staggered through his body and reeled slightly from it.
"Lindsay needs you to make it through this," Peter answered with something akin to distaste. Doyle squared his shoulders and stood up, enough was enough and right now he didn’t need this and he sure as hell didn’t want to own this particular problem.
"Well, until Frank tells me otherwise, you are still on the clock so get the fuck up and walk or I'll carry you."
"Do you honestly think you can?" Peter lifted a brow over his beer.
"Want to put it to the test?" Connor asked with absolutely no humor.
"No, all right, but I have no idea why you need me on this."
"Maybe because you were there the last time this happened, and if you can stay sober long enough you can help stop it again."
"Maybe that's the problem, Connor. I really don’t want to face this again."
"For the love of God, man, tell me what happened."
"You've got the files, Connor, nothing to tell."
"Bullshit! You are starting to piss me off, Axon. I know it was personal, and you don’t want to discuss it, but Jesus! People are dying."
“You know nothing about it, Connor.” There was true fear in Peter’s eyes as he put the bottle down and pulled his jacket on.
“No, I don’t, and you won’t tell me; but I can promise you one thing.”
“And that would be?”
“I will protect you as much as I can, Peter, but you need to tell me what happened.”
“All right, I’ll get no peace until I do.” Axon led the way out the door; his pace slow and his mind focused on the past he thought he had buried.
“I’m listening,” Connor prodded.
“The CDC were called in for the same reasons the OSIR was, the FBI had jack shit, nothing to go on. Knew who it was, couldn’t prove it. The DA was all over us to make it go away and eventually one of the agents went undercover.”
“Nicholas Carter.”
“Yeah. Nicky fit the profile for the victims, same as you do.” Peter ran his hand through his hair and continued, his steps slow and measured. “He went in and four days later, I found his body dumped like a piece of garbage in a back alley. Naked, bleeding, and tortured to death.”
“I didn’t know you found him.”
“No, it’s not in the report. What’s also not in the report was that we were friends and I lost the plot.”
“You had a breakdown?” Connor asked softly.
“I took sick leave from the CDC for nearly six months. I spent a little time in a facility and finally decided I couldn’t go back to work. Old Willis had a soft spot for me so he kept my record clean, even got me onto the research project you were running. Gave me time to put my mind back together.”
“I’m sorry, Peter. You should have told me earlier.”
“Tell you what, that last time I came up against this I became unstable?”
“Well, maybe the truth would have been good.”
“That’s part of the reason I’m taking French leave and going back to teaching. I can’t face this stuff, Connor. I don’t want to – more importantly I don’t want to lose it again.”
“You won’t; and, now that I know, I can keep you safe from it. I don’t understand why you’re so exhausted by all of this. There is no shame in being human, Peter.”
“There’s more to it, but I’m not going there now.”
“Sure. Look, come back to work and we’ll sort it out, okay?”
“I’ll come back until Frank can find a replacement.”
“Easier said than done, my friend.”
“No one is irreplaceable, you should know that.”
“I happen to think you are.” Connor smiled softly and moved his hand to Peter’s shoulder. “So what else wasn’t in the files?”
“Nicky was gay.”
“Ah, so is it possible he knew his killer and went willingly?”
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