Title: Turn It Around
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Michael Cutter
Fandom: Doctor Who/Law & Order
Rating: PG-13
Table: Amnesty in January, 5_prompts
Prompt: Cadenza Challenge, Title section -- No good deed
Warning: ongoing story, past non-con
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Michael Cutter, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

Michael sighed as he stared out of the hotel room window, realizing how foreign New York City looked to him now. This was the city where he'd spent most of his life, the place he'd grown up in; he would never have thought that he would feel like a stranger here.

But traveling with the Doctor for even a few months had changed the way that he viewed the place he'd lived in for so long. He'd seen so many other places, other planets; New York no longer seemed like the center of activity to him that it once had.

He'd been away from the city for so long, that now, it didn't seem like a place that he'd once made his life. It felt like some place that he'd only visited for a brief time; those planets that he'd only seen once and left fairly quickly seemed more real than his past life in New York.

That was only to be expected, though, wasn't it? He hadn't exactly left the city on the best of terms, even though he'd been reluctant to part forever. He knew that he would always want to come back here -- and that he would always consider New York his home.

Still, he couldn't help feeling that he'd been let down by the people of this city, particularly those who he'd worked with. He hadn't been ousted from his job under a cloud of suspicion, but it had been made clear to him that he wasn't wanted there any more.

Jack McCoy hadn't agreed, of course. But there had been so much pressure on him, and Mike hadn't wanted his friend to deal with that. Jack had enough problems without trying to retain Mike as his right-hand man -- especially when he hadn't intended to stay here.

After what had happened to him, he hadn't wanted to stay in the city. He'd felt vulnerable, too much like a target. For the first time in his life, he knew how the victims that he'd always tried to help felt like -- because he'd become one of them.

And after all the good deeds he'd done for the people of this city, trying to serve them and get justice for those who had been victimized, he'd been turned away from his job simply because of the fact that he'd been made a victim. It didn't seem fait, but then, life never was.

But it had all worked out, hadn't it? He wasn't going to stay in New York anyway; most of his furniture had already been given to the Salvation Army, and the rest put into storage. His personal belongings were on the Tardis -- well, those that he'd wanted to keep.

He didn't belong in this city any more. He didn't feel as though he even belonged on this planet, really. He felt detached from the world that he'd always lived in, turning his back on it to discover a new life, and new worlds, with the man he loved.

Mike sighed softly, resting his head against the coolness of the windowpane. After all of the good deeds he had done for this city, to feel that there was no one here who truly cared about him, no one who missed him, still cut deep. He hadn't expected it to feel this way.

Did the Doctor feel the same when he'd gone back to Gallifrey, when his home planet had still existed? Had he ever experienced this feeling of detachment, this knowledge that even after he'd done good things for the place he called home, it had still turned its back on him?

Of course he did, Michael told himself. The Doctor had to have felt that way at some point -- all that his lover had told him of that home planet had made Mike feel as though Gallifreyans had never deserved to have the Doctor. They'd certainly never appreciated him.

Was that how he felt about his own life on Earth, the life that he'd thought was so full and contented before he'd met the Time Lord? Did he feel as though no one had ever really appreciated what he'd done, since they had all pushed him away when he'd needed friends?

Not everyone had pushed him away. Jack had tried to help him keep his job -- until Michael had told him that he was going to be moving in with his lover and that there was no need for it. His friend hadn't seemed surprised, but then, Jack had known that they were fighting a losing battle.

He jumped when he felt the Doctor's arms slide around his waist from behind, the warmth of the Time Lord's body against his own. Closing his eyes, he let himself lean back into that embrace, one hand moving to his waist to twine his fingers through the other man's.

"What are you thinking about?" the Time Lord asked him, his voice soft, curiosity underlying the gentle tone. "You look so solemn and serious, Mike. I can't help but think that whatever's on your mind, it's not good. Are you brooding about the past again?"

Mike started to deny it, but he didn't want to lie to his lover. Reluctantly, he nodded, heaving a sigh. "I was thinking about how I tried to do so much good for this city -- but when I needed them to do right by me, I was vilified just because of the fact that I was made into a victim."

"We'll find the men who hurt you, Mike," the Doctor said, his voice even and calm. "I've promised you that, and I always keep my promises. But this isn't the time. We need to form a plan of action, and decide what the best way to go about finding those men would be."

Michael nodded, his brow furrowing in a frown. "I wish that I could get some of my friends on the police force to help us, but I doubt they'd have time. And they would say that the trail is too cold to follow any leads -- unless we came up with something new.'

The Doctor sighed, tightening his arms around Mike's waist. "Then we're on our own," he said simply, his voice conveying none of the hopelessness that Michael felt. Instead, the other man sounded as though he was ready to go out and being their search right now.

He wasn't, of course, but Mike's heart warmed at the thought. Not everyone had turned their back on him. He wasn't alone. The Doctor didn't even belong here in New York, the city he'd tried to do good deeds for. And yet he was the one who wanted to look for justice.

"You've done so many good things for this city, Mike," the Doctor said with a sigh, resting his chin on Michael's shoulder. "I wish that it had done more for you when you were in need, but that doesn't matter now. What matters is moving ahead with our lives."

"With that one piece of unfinished business in this city behind us." Mike's sigh echoed the Doctor's; he couldn't help feeling frustrated at the thought. "I know it's not going to be easy to find those men, but I want to put this behind me. I want the closure."

"And I want justice for you, after all the justice you've gotten for others," the Doctor told him, his voice firm and strong. "We'll get that justice, Mike. I promise we will. We're just going to have to figure out where might be the best place to start our search."

"When we do find them -- what then?" Michael asked, his eyes scanning the city streets as though he might suddenly catch a glimpse of his attackers. "We can turn them over to the police, but there's no kind of guarantee that they'll be punished."

"They will be," the Doctor told him, sounding confident. "Jack McCoy is still the District Attorney, isn't he? You know that he's not going to let them get away with what they did to you. He'll punish them to the full extent of the law. Possibly even further."

Mike nodded, realizing that the Doctor was right. Jack was probably still looking for his attackers even now; his former boss -- and close friend -- wasn't the kind of man to give up easily. Especially when his thirst for justice involved someone he cared for.

Jack wasn't going to let those men go unpunished. He would keep trying to find them, even if the case was cold. It would stay in his mind until there was some resolution. Mike knew that he could count on that. But there was still the rest of the legal community to deal with.

"I was made a pariah for becoming a victim, when all I've done with my career was try to help victims," Mike mused, sighing again. "It sounds crazy, but it's true. It's impossible to turn it around, isn't it? At least that's what it seems like. No good deed goes unpunished, as the saying goes."

"Maybe good deeds don't go unpunished -- but neither do bad ones, in the end," the Doctor told him, his voice soft and loving. "Those men will pay for what they've done, Mike. I've promised you that. I don't intend to let that be an empty promise."

Mike didn't answer, only squeezing the Doctor's hand gently in response. Looking out over the lights of the city that he used to think he'd known so well, he couldn't help wondering if his lover would be able to live up to that promise -- or if, in the end, they would both have to let it go.

***