Rating: P 6
Genre: h/c, Friendship, might as well be Pre-Slash if you want it to be
Episode related: "Cherubim & Seraphim" (1992): "Morse's step-niece commits suicide, and he takes compassionate leave. He starts to research her past to find the reason for it, and this confronts him with the generation gap. His investigation into the young girl's death leads him into an alien world of teenage hedonism: house parties, raves and designer drugs." (epguides.com) If you haven't seen this episode, you'll probably think this overly dramatic. What you need to know to understand this is that
a) in this episode Morse tells Lewis that he was planning to kill himself when he was fifteen because after his parents’ divorce and the subsequent death of his mother he was living with his father and his father's second wife, who despised him. And that's a heartbreaking scene if I've ever seen one.
b) the dead girl who killed herself at fifteen is the daughter of Morse's half-sister and someone he'd seen himself in. He's really devastated.
c) while discussing drugs Morse said "No, never" and that he was probably afraid of losing control while Lewis admitted to smoking pot once because he was curious how this would make him feel.
Off topic, best dialogue ever is in this episode:
Morse (relating to the fact that he was young during the Sixties):
"I missed out on Sex, Drugs and Rock 'n' Roll."
Lewis: "Well ... you don't like Rock. And you don't like drugs."
Morse: "I like sex!"
Summary: Erm. See above. Lewis didn't know what to say when Morse told him about planning to kill himself as a child. He knows now - kind of. Post-ep to "Cherubim & Seraphim".
word count: 714
Beta: veradee (thanks!)
Warnings: I'm no native speaker. But a sucker for h/c, sorry ... This is really, really, really sappy. Don't tell me I didn't warn you.
It was in the late hours of the night or the early hours in the morning - depending from which angle you regard it - when he rang at Morse's door. When Morse opened it in his pyjamas, irritably asking "What, Lewis, what?!", and for all of it looking as if he had been crying, he just couldn't help himself. He put his arms around the smaller man and hugged him tight.
"Is there something wrong with Val or the children?" Morse's muffled voice sounded alarmed.
"No ... no, it's you." He'd been walking and thinking all night and still didn't know the right words. "I just can't see you like ... I want ... I love you so much and if I could, I'd keep all harm away from you, I just -"
"Did you take one of these pills?" asked Morse disapprovingly, but he left his arms where they were, closed around Lewis.
"Yes, but -"
"Did you sleep at all?" inquired Morse.
"No, but -"
"You should come in and lay down. Try to calm down, will you?"
He let himself be pulled in and sat down on the settee. "But I need to tell you -"
"You can tell me everything in the morning," said Morse softly. "Not at this goddamn hour. You better sleep this off."
"I'm so sorry," said Lewis, who still couldn't come up with the words he was looking for.
"I know, Robbie. It's all right."
He really was sorry. And it was important to explain to Morse how sorry he felt for him. How important he was. At least to him if not to anyone else. But although this drug should make you clear-headed, he still couldn't find the right way to explain. His eyes started to droop when Morse put his old blanket around him. He heard him humming something under his breath, a melody he was sure he knew, but he couldn't think of the words that went with the music. He wanted to ask but fell asleep before he could open his mouth.
When he opened his eyes a few hours later, he felt - not really better, but more ordinary than before. Morse was sitting in a chair near him, dressed, doing a crossword.
"Ah. You're awake."
"Yes, Sir." He remembered pieces of what he'd said and winced. It had sounded even sappier spoken out loud than when he'd just imagined the words in his head.
"I've called your wife to tell her that you're here. She was worried."
"That's what you said before," said Morse although Lewis was sure that Morse knew that he hadn't been talking about Val then.
He sat upright. His head felt a bit ... empty but otherwise he was feeling well.
"It was really ... REALLY irresponsible of you to take this drug." Morse sounded aggravated.
Lewis looked down on his hands. "I meant it," he said at last. "I'd normally not told you in ... well, exactly those words, but I mean it."
Morse didn't answer.
"Are you mad, Sir?"
"Oh, shut up, Lewis. I'm going to drive you home."
It was still before noon when Morse dropped him off at his house. They hadn't talked during the twenty-minute ride.
"Do you want to come in?" asked Lewis a bit listlessly.
Morse shook his head. "Give my regards to Val," he said. "And tell her you're sorry to have frightened her like that."
"I knew it wasn't really dangerous," said Lewis. "I just wanted to know how they felt."
There were a few moments of silence.
"And how did you feel, Lewis?" asked Morse at last.
"Clear-headed, like they said." He hesitated. "Seeing the important things. Knowing what to do."
"Coming to my house at night?" Morse asked.
"Yes." He could say this. He could say this, he'd said worse. "Because you're sad and I don't want you to be sad."
"And you think you can do something about that?"
"No." His voice was barely a whisper. "That's the pity."
"Well ..." Morse seemed to be at a loss for words, at last. "Thank you for trying."
He looked up, surprised, and caught a serious look on Morse's face.
"And now, off with you," the older man said, looking away.