Night Falls

Twenty Three

Scott is sitting on his couch in his apartment, Kirstie long gone and the world around him completely quiet.
He had no idea what the fuck he was supposed to do with himself now.
On top of being kicked off the case, Avi forced him to take some time off.

"Get your head straight." He had said.
In his hand is the photo of him and his mom, the one he carried with him everywhere. The one he had shown Mitch when he finally told him about why this case meant the world to him. Or at least, had meant.

Now there was no case. No leads. No one to arrest.

His mother's killer was dead, and yet he didn't find the satisfaction in it that he once thought he would have.

His phone suddenly vibrates in his pocket and he shifts in his seat, placing the photograph on the couch as he looks at the screen. He frowns. It's not a number he knows. Probably work.
He slides the phone open and puts it up to his ear.

"Hoying," he grunts, settling back onto the couch.

There's a pause, not even the sound of breathing on the other end.

"Hello?" Irritation laces Scott's voice. Sure, he wasn't doing anything, but that didn't mean he wanted to be bothered.

"You've got three seconds or I'm hanging up," Scott warns when there's still no answer.

Scott takes a deep breath and sighs.
Fuck this.

Scott pulls the phone away when he hears it.

"Scott." It's Mitch. Scott's mouth falls open as he stares at the phone, the number on the call screen ticking 0:45, 0:46, 0:47, 0:48.

"Scott?" Mitch asks, an uncertainty in his voice. "Are you there?" His question breaks Scott out of his shock. He's not sure why he's so surprised to hear from Mitch, but he is.

"Mitch." Scott brings the phone back to his ear. There's a pause over the line and Scott shifts on his couch, feeling uncomfortable with the conversation, or lack of there.

"Uh, hi." Mitch says, still sounding off, though this wasn't the most smooth conversation he has ever had.

Scott smiles, imagining Mitch biting on his lip or twiddling his fingers as he tries to move past the awkwardness.
Scott had been so caught up in everything that happened today, he had completely forgotten to check in on Mitch. He had full intentions, especially after Alex informed him that he was going home, only with two agents stationed outside of his apartment, but he just hadn't had a chance. And no good excuse.

"I heard you're home." Scott relaxes back into his couch, throwing one arm over the back, imagining Mitch sitting next to him, watching a movie and probably giving him shit.

There's a pause.

"Uh, yeah. Got home a few hours ago." Mitch's answer is short and there a flatness to his voice. Scott runs his thumb over his lips, wondering if there's a problem.

"You don't sound as excited as I thought you would." Scott's arm falls away from the couch as he sits up. Something was definitely wrong.

"Just tired." Mitch takes a deep breath. "It's been a hell of a day." Despite his answer, Scott doesn't relax.

"Yeah, you could say that again." This gets a chuckle, small and quiet, but it's there.

Mitch clears his throat.

"I was wondering if maybe we could meet up." Mitch drops out of nowhere. He expected a full interrogation on how he was doing.

"Tonight?" Scott glances at the clock on his cable box. It was after nine-thirty. On a Monday. Though neither of them had work tomorrow.

"Uh, yeah. I know it's kinda last minute, but I was hoping we could talk about..." Mitch pauses.

Scott takes a deep breath and looks down at the floor.

Us. That's what Mitch wants to talk about.

Scott clears his throat, sitting back, but not relaxed.

"Sure." Scott doesn't finish Mitch's sentence. "Want me to come over?" Scott pushes himself off the couch and slips into his shoes that were sitting by the door.

"I was thinking about going out. Maybe for a drink?" Scott nods, even though Mitch can't see him.

"Yeah, drinks work." Scott wanders into the kitchen and grabs the keys off the counter where they had been thrown earlier when he had gotten home from the bar. "Where you thinking?"

Scott cradles the phone against his ear as he grabs his coat from the closet, hanging next to his packed holster. He looks down at it, wondering if it's worth taking.

"There's a bar by the water. 1876 North 10th Street. Great views." Scott picks up his pistol, holding the cool weight in his hands.

"10th street?" Scott frowns. He's never been out there before. He didn't even think anything was really out there. But hey, what did he know. He usually went to the same bar every time he went out.

"Sounds like a plan. Thirty minutes work?" Scott pockets his gun. He's never left without it before. No need to start now. Even if it was just Mitch.

"Sounds perfect." Though Mitch sounded far from that.

"Okay. See you soon then." Scott steps out of his apartment and locks the door behind him.

"See you." Mitch echoes before hanging up.

Scott hurries down to the garage and brings his baby to life.

He has no idea what the hell he's going to say to Mitch. Technically, Scott wasn't his agent anymore, so there weren't any no rules to break. But he had also treated Mitch like shit the last time he saw him, and he owed him a hell of an apology first and foremost.

As he speeds down the dark streets, he decides he'll start there and then let whatever happens happen.