The Confession

While he took the elevator to the med-surg unit, he tried to figure out how to impact them as little as possible. Worry plagued him until he tapped on Dean’s door, plastered on a smile, then stepped inside.

Beck was surprised to find the cop sitting up in bed, watching television—something he shouldn’t be doing with a concussion—and even more surprised to find him alone.

“Hey,” he greeted.

Dean quickly turned off the tube with a sheepish grin. “You didn’t see that on.”

“You watching TV? Yeah, I did. And clearly you know better.”

“Watching the wall is boring as fuck.”

“I’d like to argue with you, but I can’t.” Beck chuckled. “How are you feeling? You look a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

“I’m good now. How are you holding up? River told me what happened after I…”

“I’m fine. Honest. Speaking of River, where is he? I thought he’d be here.”

“He was, but he looked like hammered shit, so I told him to go home and rest. He called me a few minutes ago and said he’d napped, but he was too wired to sleep more, so he headed into work.” Dean rolled his eyes. “I told him he was a dumb ass for not hitting the club and enjoying another night off.”

“He probably wouldn’t have any fun without you, man.”

“That’s what he said.” A sentimental smile tugged Dean’s lips.

The cop was a lucky bastard. He’d bet Dean’s wingman wasn’t hiding anything so major it would rock the foundation of their friendship. And they damn sure didn’t have a woman to keep calm and happy in the midst of upheaval.

Beck didn’t have it that easy. All he knew was, if there was any chance Seth was going to walk away, he’d better fucking do it before they put a ring on Heavenly’s finger and a baby in her womb.

At least he understood Seth’s reluctance to get Heavenly pregnant. He was obviously worried that another child would be killed—murdered?—like the first. That’s why he’d been so fucking obsessed with condoms. Except last night, of course. In the hours before when it seemed possible they could all die, Seth had put the past on hold. Despite the danger, Beck had been filled with hope for the future. Now? He wished he knew exactly how Seth’s wife and son had died so he could help the man lay his ghosts to rest.

Suddenly, a conversation they’d shared a few weeks ago plowed through Beck’s brain.

Did losing your dad have anything to do with the reason you hung up your badge?

You said your past was a long story. Mine, too.

He’d avoided discussing Autumn and Tristan from the start.

As long as it won’t bite us in the ass, I can live with that.

It’s all ancient history.

Seth had sounded confident. But if the past wasn’t a problem, why all the hang-ups? Unless, as Beck suspected, he was still stuck in his grieving process.

“Beck?” Dean called.

Jolting from the memory, he blinked at the cop. “Sorry. Just remembered something. What were you saying?”

“It’s not important. You sure you’re okay?”

“Fine.” It was an obvious lie.

“Hmm.” Dean dissected him with a stare.

An awkward silence hung in the air. It was time to leave.

“Well, I better get going so you can rest.”

“Take care of yourself, man. If you need to talk, call me. I’ve been forced to kill more than a couple perps over the years. It never gets easier.” Sympathy and understanding filled Dean’s face.