Response piece to the episode "The Way Through The Woods" (TV, not
book).
Characters beloved creations of Colin Dexter, based on characters portrayed by
John Thaw & Kevin Whately

A Path Through The Woods
by elfin

The sudden sound of the shot had seemingly echoed in the trees for too long.
Lewis wondered if it was in his head, if it would be there forever to remind him
how close... how very close he had come to dying. Would they have searched for
his shallowly buried body for so long? Or would they have given up? He
glanced over at Morse. His Chief would never have stopped looking for him,
never have given up until he held his sergeant's bloody, dirty corpse in his arms,
or touched the very bones with his fingers.

Lewis was cold now. Michaels' blood had soaked through his shirt and was
dying against his skin. It could so easily have been mixed with his own. He
should have called in, he knew. He would be in trouble for not doing so. He
just wanted to prove to them - to himself - that he was capable of independant
thought, that he didn't need Morse or Johnson ordering him around. And he'd
wound up staring down the barrel of a shotgun. If it hadn't been for Morse....

He thought back on everything he'd said, the argument in the pub and the row at
the station. He'd always seen Morse as arrogant, pigheaded. Once the man had
an idea in his head he wouldn't let go. But wasn't that just how he'd been
behaving himself these last few days? He'd refused to believe they'd been
wrong. He'd returned to Johnson's side again and again. Why? Because Johnson
had offered him a promotion? At what cost? And again, why? Because Johnson
hated Morse. Because Morse had what Johnson wanted; him. Detective
Sergeant Lewis, CID.

Morse had been right, of course. There was a price to pay. Working under
Johnson would have meant turning a blind eye to the brutality and terrorism that
went on in his team. Morse would never hit a suspect! He had other ways of
getting what he wanted.

So it came down to what Lewis wanted. How badly did he want that
promotion? And why did he tell Morse about it the way he had? Just to see his
Chief’s reaction? To see the hurt and betrayal in his eyes? If that had been the
reason, then he hadn't been disappointed. His announcement had deflated
Morse, stopped him in his tracks. What kind of person did that to another? Was
that his only weapon against Morse's fierce determination to get to the truth?
The ability to cause hurt. He remembered his own accusation, 'this was never
about Johnson, it was about you and me'. Was that the real reason then? 'You
and me'. 'Us'. What 'us' was there?

He heard his Chief step up behind him.

<> "Are you all right?" He nodded. "Strange isn't happy. He wants to see you first
thing tomorrow. Johnson's... promotion looks set to be withdrawn."
Lewis nodded. Nothing unexpected. He and Johnson had convicted a man of
the murder of a girl who hadn't been murdered at all. He was probably going to
face some period of suspension, it would certainly go into his record. Morse,
though, would be there defending him. He was suddenly sure of that.

'It's about you and me'. 'Us'. 'What 'us'?

"She could have killed you, Sir. You'd have died in my place?" he asked
quietly.
"Lewis...."
"I told you she only had one bullet left and you would have taken it instead of
me."
"You're young. You've got a family. You've got a promising career ahead of
you. I'm old. No one would miss me." The words were spoken so calmly, with
little emotion, that they touched Lewis deeply.
"I would miss you, Sir." Without looking at Morse, Lewis stepped around him
and opened the passenger door of the Jag.

A few seconds later, Morse joined him and they sat in silence in the car.
"I was… scared for you." Morse started softly. "I saw Cathy Michaels on the
garage surveillance tape, and Peters told me you'd come up here. I drove up and
I saw the blood on your car. I thought... I could never have forgiven myself."
"I'm sorry."
Morse shook his head, gazing across at Lewis. "Don't be. I was… out of order
from the start. You're right. I was jealous. But not because you'd solved a
crime, not because you'd got it right, because you'd solved it with Johnson." He
looked away. "It's been an honour working with you, Lewis. I… I will miss
you."
Slowly, Lewis reached out and grasped his Chief's hand. "I… told Johnson to
stuff his job, Sir. I doubt it's even his decision now. If you'll have me back, I
don't really want to work for anyone else, not yet. I wasn't right. I just rushed
in, like I always do. Forgive me?"
"Nothing to forgive, friend." Morse met his sergeant's eyes and saw the tears
there. "Lewis..?" He looked down at the hand covering his own, and realized
how cold it was, felt for the first time the subtle trembling. Immediately he
removed his jacket. "You're going into shock. We need to get you warm." In
the small space of the car he leaned across and helped wrap it around his
sergeant's shoulders. He started the car engine and turned on the heaters,
blasting the warming air into the car.

For the final time in the Karin Anderson case, Morse drove them out of and
away from Wytham Woods.


tbc?
elfin
05-11-99

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