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Ever since Sullivan had been transferred to Kembleford, he had dreamed of a promotion, of being back in his familiar London, of being able to live comfortably and as he wished.
In this he found a good incentive to get up in the morning, to work harder and, of course, to put up with all the antics of the locals, especially Father Brown and his cronies.
But every day the white bedclothes from which he rose early in the morning became more and more hateful to him. The thought of the police station made his head feel like something was squeezing him and he was in pain for the rest of the day. When it came to the priest, the poor inspector clenched his jaws too tightly and tried to hold back all his anger lest he should destroy anything that might come to his hand at such an inconvenient moment.
None of this could lead to anything good, but Sullivan didn't know that.
He didn't have anyone here he could confide in or share problems with. In general, there were few-if any-who wanted to get close to him.
Which is why, one day, he just gave up. The accumulated stress from all those months - or was it his whole life? - would come crashing down on him as soon as he stepped over the threshold of his cottage and he would collapse on the sofa - if the day was particularly bad he would collapse on the floor - clutching at his hair and sobbing until he ran out of energy.
Afterwards he would lie like that for some time, completely devastated. The feeling of conscience came gradually, forcing him to get up to clean up the mess, change his clothes and pour himself a glass of something strong to dull the shame of his existence and try to sleep.
Sergeant Goodfellow had only nodded understandingly, smiled discreetly to greet him, looking at the inspector's crumpled face with blank eyes in the morning, and brought hot tea to his office without asking anything.
Sullivan was too ill for him to appreciate these gestures on the part of his subordinate.
_______
"Father, is something wrong?"
Sid's voice came like thunder and only now did the priest realise that he was still clutching the biscuit in his hand as he was completely absorbed in his thoughts.
"You didn't find the Inspector's behaviour strange lately?" ignoring Sid's question asked the priest. His father could see how the eyebrows of the chap opposite frowned and how he pressed his lips together, clearly thinking about the matter.
"Aem... Well, he didn't leave me in a cell overnight for my latest antics in the red lion, which is already weird enough for him, is that what you mean?" Cid let out a short chuckle and grinned at the priest, who was still engrossed in his observations.
"He looks very sickly" the older man lowered his eyes to the table, noticing he was still twirling the unfortunate biscuit in his hands and tucked it back into his plate.
"I noticed that too!" Mrs McCarthy quickly approaches the table and gives everyone present a look that says she noticed everything a long time ago "our inspector looks like a living corpse. Even Underwood who dropped dead in the street looked better."
The men stared at the secretary in silence and with a heavy sigh she rolled her eyes.
"The man is clearly unwell and I'm sure the poor inspector hasn't even eaten anything since this morning, so Sid will take the remains of my stew to the police station and then we'll try to work out how to proceed. "
Carter looked very offended, but arguing with the woman was clearly useless and with a defeated look he rose from his chair.
_______
It was strange for Sullivan to see Carter at his station when he didn't even ask him to come to him. The most strange thing was that when Sid noticed him, he went straight towards him and carried some kind of container in his hands.
"Good afternoon, Inspector" there was a slightly strained smile on the guy's lips, which Sullivan was able to notice "this is for you, Mrs. McCarthy asked me to thank you for your recent help"
The man absurdly stared first at Carter, who chattered quickly and confidently, and then at his hands, into which he skillfully managed to put the same container and when everything was ready, he immediately left the station, leaving a completely perplexed inspector with a bunch of questions.
"Have I been helping Mrs. McCarthy lately?" he turned to the sergeant standing next to him, to which he just waved his hands and also looked at him in disbelief.
_______
And so their tacit assistance to the inspector continued.
The parish secretary found out if Sullivan needed help and offered to come in for tea with buns when the man crossed paths with her.
Father Brown just tried not to interfere too much in the investigation process. More precisely, he simply did not annoy the inspector with his theories and watched everything from afar, carefully writing down important details on a piece of paper, as he thought, and, if necessary, passed them on to Sullivan.
And Sid... Sid was simply punished not to start fights or other violations, for which he so often received his sentences in a cell at the Kembleford police station, and sometimes the guy passed something to the inspector if his other accomplices could not do it.
_______
To Sullivan, everything that was happening seemed incredibly strange. At first, he really thought that all this was just his imagination, but after he became convinced of the strange behavior on the part of this company and was afraid to guess what exactly it all could mean.
It was possible to guess and reflect on this topic for an unimaginably long time, but he needed an answer and the inspector decided to get it right away.
Sullivan quickly gathered up everything he thought he needed, put on his hat and walked briskly to the place where he knew the van of the person he needed was parked.
But Sid wasn't there, and the inspector didn't want to look for the guy all over Kembleford. Deciding to move away from the van and hiding behind a tree next to the path, the man waited quietly for Carter.
It was very easy to convince yourself of the importance of this "investigation" and focus on it, rather than going back to the station and staring blankly at the reports when thoughts of the worthlessness of your own existence came into your head.
Fortunately, Carter did not take long to wait, and after a quarter of an hour, the inspector noticed his silhouette in an emerald-colored shirt, walking confidently, approaching the inspector, whom the guy himself could not see.
And then Sullivan got confused, he could clearly see Sid's face, but what should he do when they were level? Come out of hiding, but if Carter decides to run? Wait for Sid to come to the van? Sullivan was afraid of getting hit in the nose by an iron door.
The time for reasoning was over and the inspector was already acting mechanically when he grabbed the guy by the arm and dragged him into the bushes with him.
Sid, who definitely did not expect a threat, looked at least stunned and was ready to defend himself, but when he saw the inspector's face, he unclenched his fists and raised his eyebrows, looking at him in disbelief.
"Inspector, have you been dragging men into the bushes with you for a long time, or is today some kind of special day?" Carter's snide smile, which Sullivan was used to seeing on his face, blossomed again.
"What are you up to?" ignoring the question, the man said.
Sid raised his eyebrows again, partly pretending not to understand what was being said, and partly really not understanding what Sullivan meant by that.
"Carter, this is serious, if you or Father Brown know at least some information and hide it..." but then the guy interrupts the inspector.
"What are you talking about? Right now, I seriously don't understand what the hell you're trying to ask me."
"Your behavior over the past week. I'm not stupid enough, as you obviously think, not to notice." He pronounces the last sentence much more dismissively and looks away.
"No one takes you for a fool here, but that's how you're acting right now." Sid realizes that he was a little rude to him and sees how Sullivan wants to verbally attack Carter again, but he doesn't let him do it.
"Our behavior is called caring because you looked disgusting, and Father and Mrs. McCarthy just wanted to help. But even here you're trying to find a threat and an ulterior motive." At the end of his tirade, Sid felt a little offended for the people close to him and this was clearly reflected in his tone.
After standing like that for about half a minute, the guy still looks up and he is sure that for the first time he sees Sullivan guiltily looking at the floor, like a naughty boy.
"I am.. I didn't mean to hurt you or anything..."
Sid is about to start making excuses, but the inspector interrupts him.
"No, no, no, it's not worth it. I really behaved like an idiot." Sullivan sighs weakly, gathering his answer. "I'm sorry, really."
Carter looks as confused as the inspector himself. There is an awkward pause again.
"You can make it up to me if you help me with something." Sid breaks the silence first and sighs again, noticing how the gray-blue eyes began to frown. "It's totally legal, I'll tell you in the van. I promise I won't attack you like you did to me earlier."
Sullivan snorts at the teasing from the guy, but obediently follows him into the caravan.
_______
To the Inspector's surprise, they managed to find common ground with Carter.
Sid offered Sullivan a mug of tea and a deal: the inspector would stop frightening Mrs M and Father Brown by looking like a living corpse, and in turn Sid would stop the secretary's frequent attempts to drag Sullivan to his house for dinner.
There was no point in this arrangement, but sitting at the table with a tin mug in his hand and looking into the bright eyes opposite, after nearly an hour of pleasant conversation with the would-be thief, Sullivan could not refuse him.
Two months later, Sullivan had to leave for London and he was restless with happiness.
He was praised for his successful disclosure and, perhaps, if he showed himself well, he would finally be transferred from Kembleford and only from this thought everything inside him turned over and trembled.
Reality, harsh as ever, plunged him headfirst into the icy water.
The anonymity that had attracted Sullivan turned out to be nothing more than people spitting on each other. Anyone could have died right on the road and everyone just as easily passed him by.
Things were even worse with crime. There was no foolish hope that a town with a population several times the size of Kembleford would be calmer, but it wasn't the amount of crime that was frightening. In every case Sullivan solved there was at least some motive, people killed others over little things, but there was at least some reason. Here, however, people killed another or maimed another just because they could do it.
In all his dreams this city seemed bright and shining, but in all the time Sullivan had been here he had never seen the sun.
He left London earlier than he had been offered and returned to Kembleford with his tail between his legs.
Already on the journey Sullivan was flooded with guilt. In his excitement about a better life, he had not even told Sid that he was leaving and had missed their "meeting" without even leaving a note....
Everything was back to the way it had been before that encounter in front of the van.
Though Sid showed no sign of resentment or that he was angry, Sullivan couldn't come over and start talking as if nothing had happened.
So he burrowed back into himself and quietly, unknowingly, missed the bright eyes he was so used to gazing into in his kitchen.
_______
The inspector hadn't slept for three days and the only thing keeping him on his feet was the tree he was perched on.
It all started with a report from an alarmed mum that her six-year-old daughter was missing. The inspector knew both the woman and the child well, so immediately began to find out everything he needed to start the search while the sergeant filled out the necessary paperwork.
It was a terrible admission, but by concentrating only on tracking down the missing little girl, Sullivan had stopped thinking about his own problems, but perhaps that was what had helped find her before this could all become a tragedy.
But right now, as he rubs his tired eyes, the only thing on his mind is "we found her. alive".
It's unclear how much time passes while he stands like that, apparently enough because he feels someone weakly pat him on the shoulder
"Hey, the sergeant asked me to get you. They're done, the girl and her mum have been taken to the hospital just in case."
Sullivan doesn't need to open his eyes to recognise that voice.
"Sid, please take me home." The only thing the man can utter in response. His voice completely reflects his outward tiredness.
Carter nods uncertainly in response, more out of surprise at the sudden request. Realising that the inspector couldn't make a move, the guy put his arm around his shoulders and gently led him to the car, kindly opening the doors and sitting the man in the passenger seat.
Sullivan doesn't remember what they talked about all the way to his house, it was just nice to hear that voice again, the one that kept him awake until he reached his house.
We're here." says Sid also softly.
The inspector missed the moment when the guy had time to vacate the driver's seat, but now he's standing right in front of Sullivan and kindly holds the door for him.
"Thanks for finding my house, Sid." Sullivan tries to enunciate the words clearly, but the lack of sleep is taking its toll.
"It wasn't hard, you know." The guy hums.
Carter doesn't know that he's the one who made this place home for Sullivan. The man never had one. It was always just the places he came to after work and slept.
Looking again into those blue eyes - Sullivan had not allowed himself to look at them before after his "betrayal" - and noticing Sid leaning over to help him out of the car, Sullivan does not realise what he is doing.
The inspector reaches out to meet him and wraps his palms around Carter's face, connecting their lips for exactly one moment. One ridiculous, quick, barely discernible touch.
It was almost childish, but too much for the police inspector and too little for Sullivan himself, who realised how long he'd wanted it.
"Sid, I..."
"Get up, I'll walk you home."
Nothing had changed. Still the same soft tone of Carter's voice and his arms still gently encircling his shoulders. This can't be happening, so could he be asleep after all?
Sid doesn't leave Sullivan on the doorstep, but enters the cottage with him, helps him take off his boots and coat, makes tea and escorts the man to his bedroom.
"Thank you." Muffled whispers the inspector, casting guilty glances at the lad. He couldn't believe he'd managed to mess things up so badly.
"I don't have a problem with it." Sid is just as at ease as he was before and Sullivan is almost pissed off by it. This guy's reaction gives the inspector hope that he hasn't messed up yet.
"Sullivan, can I kiss you?"
It's as if everything inside the inspector stops functioning normally, he can't even breathe. The man looks at Carter and prays he can read eyes, because he's not sure he can say anything in response.
For the first time in his miserable thirty years of existence, God hears his prayers and Sullivan feels a gentle kiss on his lips and holds back to keep from sobbing.
Nothing in the world matters to the inspector when he falls asleep in Carter's warm and loving arms.