"Are you sure?" the words barely escaped his stubble-surrounded lips, his chest heaving with every breath. Stripped down to his black pants, laying on his back on the cheap motel's bed, he looked up at the girl on his lap. While she had all but torn his shirt off, Bella remained dressed in sheer leggings and a faded green crop-top. Bella leaned down, pressing her lips to his left ear, her red-tipped hair caressing the man's chest.
"I'm ready for anything," she whispered, then bit his ear and proceeded to leave marks down his neck as he continued to grind up against her soft skin. Sitting up, Bella pulled her short shirt off in one fluid movement, then tugged at the hem of her leggings. "You gonna help, or am I just here to put on a show for you?"
Grinning, Ryan reached for the girl's hips. Sliding his hands lower and lower, hearing Bella moan for him, falling apart by his touch, aroused him even more. He ripped open her leggings, unable to contain himself any longer, and rolled her over so her back was now on the bed while he was on top. Bella looked up at her lover, her eyes dark with lust. Ryan moved his hands to his belt buckle, ready to finally take off his pants. He ached to be inside of her, to be able to do the things to her that they'd only talked about door suddenly flew off its hinges, followed by three heavy men armed with pistols. Bella screamed and pulled Ryan down to her as a shield, afraid that she would be shot.
"Don't worry, doll. We're not here for you," she heard one of the men say as two sets of arms grabbed Ryan.
"No!" Bella shrieked, jumping off the bed, not caring that she was practically naked. Another man entered the room, his job clear: keep the girl in while the others take the man, who struggled for a second, then stopped resisting. He didn't want Bella to see him like this, to know about who he really was, so he looked her in the eyes and said, "It's all right, Bella. We'll see each other soon, I promise."
His steely grey-blue eyes conveyed honesty and tranquility, so the girl allowed herself to relax. A man with a silky brown ponytail pulled at his right arm while a wide man in black pulled on his left. Ryan acquiesced to their motions and left Bella with the strange man in what had been their room. Once in the parking lot, he began to resist again.
"What the fuck? Mithat put you up to this; if he wanted me gone he should've come here himself," he snarled at the muscled men, his face twisted in fury.
"Shut up." The driver of the silver car stepped out and slammed Ryan across the face with his gun. "Tie him up and throw him in the trunk," he instructed the men before settling down behind the wheel once again. Ponytail man lifted Kane up and bound his wrists tightly together with duct tape while black-shirt taped their prisoner's ankles. When they had completed the gift wrapping, they boxed up the present in the car's trunk, and sealed it shut with the spare key.
Ryan Kane could completely shut off his brain when he needed to - after all, he had lived through Afghanistan and the Bureau's intense regiments - but this wasn't the time. Now it was necessary to remain vigilant and use his brain to get himself out of this mess. His mind was cleared from all distractions, Bella included, and he focused solely on the sounds of the road in an attempt to gauge their desired car drew to a halt after about an hour of driving, yet Kane sensed that they had yet to approach their final stop. He heard the four doors open and close, and smelled the gasoline as it entered the car's tank. They were soon on the road again, leading Kane to correctly assume that within another hour they would have reached the end of the line. Ryan inhaled deeply and exhaled deeper still, calming himself the way he used to before he took down his targets in the Middle East. With his mind clear, the silent man waited for a chance to implement his deadly escape.
"These guys are gonna shoot you. I got a gun in my pocket; you with me?" Ponytail asked after he popped open the trunk. Night had fallen in the country and the area was dark except for the car's red taillights and a dimly lit cabin porch light.
"Yeah," Ryan responded, understanding Ponytail's intentions but not the reasoning behind his words. No time to dwell on that now, though. Ryan's bonds were severed by a pocket blade and he was once more escorted by one man on either side of him. Once in the cabin, his captors let on how afraid they really were.
"We can't do this, man, it ain't right," Ponytail frantically yelled while the others stood around Ryan.
"Jesus, Chris. I'll do it; move," one of the muscles replied, aggravated by his partner's lack of will. In one swift move, Ryan grabbed the gun from Chris's pocket and shot at the muscled men with zero hesitation, fatally sending them to the cabin's floor. He brought the gun up to Chris's head, watching as the threatened man put up his hands in defense, as if that would do anything to prevent a bullet.
"Dude. It's cool, man. All right?" Chris breathed. "I'm with the FBI." Those words earned him a bullet straight through the forehead. The man fell with a thud, yet Ryan thought he heard a sound slip from the man's lips. Ryan pivoted slowly, his barefooted feet still not registering the cold ground of the cabin. He approached the bed and pulled up the covers while expertly holding his gun in front of 's usually composed face contorted with sudden emotion. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Under the bed, cowering in a Ranger jacket with 'Shea' stitched in yellow over the breast, was a young man with brown hair. The killer briefly paused his motions before bringing up his gun yet again, ready to shoot the boy the same way he had shot the FBI slammed into the back of the killer's neck, sending him to his knees. He tried to get up, but he was hit again by that piece of metal in an unknown person's hands.
When Ryan woke up, darkness still covered the sky. He stood up and methodically cleaned up the scene of the crime, wiping his prints off the surfaces he touched and staging the scene so it looked like the gang members had turned on each other. He put on Chris's clothing, and all the while thought about the boy he had seen. It was impossible, he thought. What were the odds that the first time he had seen a brunet teenager named Shea would be at a bloody triple homicide? Dressed in the FBI man's flannel, vest, and shoes, Ryan calmly strolled out of cabin with a look of grim determination on his face. He had to get the hell out of Dodge, that was an indisputable fact, but he also felt the need to get closer to the boy. Realizing that he could maintain his job and find a way to the Shea kid at the same time, Kane began to walk through the woods and into town.
Ryan checked himself into another no-questions-asked small motel after making a stop at a convenience store. He shaved, making his face look less menacing, and showered, scrubbing off any trace of Bella and the cabin. It was early morning then, yet he only stayed for a couple of hours. He planned out his day, starting with what he had promised the girl in the other motel not twelve hours previous. Checking out of the motel, Ryan took a bus into Poughkeepsie to use a small library's computer server to message Bella, not wanting to run the risk of going into the city and using his own computer so soon after his encounter with her and her father's minions. He then searched for high schools in Dutchess County, trying to find the brown-haired boy's picture somewhere on a school's website. Red Hook High School, a simple brick building, showed a brunet in a Rangers jacket outside by the main entrance. A perfect plan formed in Ryan's methodical mind. Geographically, he knew that the walk out the cabin in Tivoli had to have been a few miles, and if Shea went to Red Hook for school, he would be within a fifteen mile radius, at most. After all, Red Hook and Tivoli were within ten miles of each other, and it would serve to reason that the kid would be from one of those small villages.
Looking at his watch, Kane realised that if he could make it back to the small town he started his day in, he could possibly find the boy outside of school. Leaving the library, he rushed outside to the bus stop and made it to the two PM ride back to Tivoli.
Dressed like an ordinary father would, going near the school wouldn't pose too much of a threat to onlookers. Still, Kane didn't want to risk public exposure yet, knowing that it was likely he would need to return to the crime scene for official work purposes, and if he could avoid being seen unnecessarily, that would be best. At a transfer point between buses, the now clean-shaven man caught sight of a familiar jacket worn by a brunet, who had one of his arms wrapped around a girl's waist. Instead of taking his next bus, Ryan trailed the young couple at a distance with the intention of separating Shea from the girl and finishing the job he had started in the cabin the night before. Although maybe he wouldn't need to kill the young man - maybe it would be enough to keep him as a hostage, to torture him to the point where he would no longer feel compelled to reveal what he had witnessed.
That could work, Ryan mused, and maybe I could also figure out who else was in the cabin with. Having caught up with the couple, Ryan fingered the needles in his pocket, debating whether or not he should overdose his targets. As he approached the couple, he noticed something wasn't quite right. This boy only remotely resembled the one from the night before, and the girl with him looked nothing like...
They had seen his face, though, confused why the man was staring down at them. Without a word, Ryan leaned down and plunged a needle into each of the teenager's arms, releasing the heroin into their bloodstreams. He couldn't bring himself to kill them, but he couldn't keep them entirely alive. This way, when they woke, they could simply attribute it to a bad dream, or a shared high, and wouldn't remember ever seeing Kane. He was careful to take the needles with him, knowing just by looking at the kids that they didn't fit the profile of 'most likely to just try heroin for fun'.
Retracing his steps, Ryan Kane worked his way back to the bus stop. He had a strange sensation as he stepped onto the vehicle that someone was watching him, but he simply put his earbuds in and acted as calmly as he could. No point in acting paranoid.
Philip rushed off the bus and ran as fast as he could to Lukas's house rather than his foster home. It was closer to the Waldenbeck's house than the bus was, and made the run smoother. He was out of breath by the time he found Lukas working in the barn, turkeys gobbling all around. He didn't expect a warm welcome; after all, he and Lukas had just fought multiple times, not to mention they had... well, whatever it was that happened at the cabin.
But what he didn't expect was Lukas saying, "He saw you, and you came here?" as if Philip was the world's most selfish jerk to walk the earth. And he definitely did not expect Helen to drive up in her Jeep. Philip scrambled to hide behind a large wooden case as Lukas went out to meet the Sheriff. A thin film of sweat began to develop on Philip's forehead as he heard Helen ask Lukas question after question about his motorbike, until eventually she appeared satisfied with the responses she got from the frightened young the Jeep leave, Philip went out from behind the makeshift wall to speak to Lukas. Again, he wasn't expecting the reaction he got from the blond. Being pushed around in school - he could justify that, maybe - but here, when it was just the two of them?
Philip left without a word, without acknowledging Lukas's attempt at reconciliation, as Philip tried to explain to his...well, he wasn't sure exactly what Lukas was to him, but as he tried to explain his concerns for Tommy, he wasn't surprised to hear Lukas's unsympathetic response. He'd heard enough from Lukas, yet it still hurt to hear him say, "You're insane,", followed by, "because he doesn't like you."
Over his short life span, Philip had heard many variations of the 'i-word' - from peers, teachers, mandatory guidance counselors, etc. When Lukas said it, however, what he heard was "You're insane if you think I like you," and that caused him more pain than being shoved into the school's rough wall. Philip's guilt complex practically controlled him as much as the way Lukas's irrationally spurred every decision he ever made.
"You promised!" Lukas screamed as he yet again shoved Philip into a wall. This was becoming way too routine, becoming too much of a normal behavior pattern for both of them, and like the guilt complex allowed him to feel the responsibility for Tommy, it fueled his thoughts of being deserving of all the suffering he was receiving.
Lukas's soft kisses furthered Philip's ideas of punishment as opposed to pleasure. Not that he was into anything graphically tortuous- the ideas of anything like that made him cringe - but he felt as if Lukas was simply using him to punish himself as well, that by giving in to his desires he was sinning, and sinning deserved punishment, hence kissing Philip and bringing everything around to a complete circle of illogical rationale.
As the sign promised, the restaurant was closed for a private event. Burlingame, Kamilah Davis, and several others from the FBI's task force assigned to the heroin trafficking case sat in the small dining room. Ryan Kane had suited up although he hadn't shaved, keeping a thin layer of stubble on his face. He had no speech prepared, no big 'I'm the boss you listen to me' intimidation tactic, no plan at all really except keeping the focus on Mithat Milonkovic and the Viscovis, and leaving the cabin to the Tivoli department to deal with.
There was no reason anyone on his task force, or for that matter, anyone in the Federal Bureau, to go near the cabin case. There were no drugs anywhere near the scene; they had no obligation to involve themselves in a local issue. When he wasn't with his task force, or being called in with their updates, he continued to research Shea and monitor the local news about the 'teenagers who suffered from a temporary stomach virus that, from what the doctors can tell, is most likely not contagious'.
And of course, he couldn't simply neglect his Bella. Unfortunately, she was now involved in this world of his whether he liked it or not, although he blamed Mithat more than himself. What kind of man continues on a path like that when he has a daughter? He had tried calling her, and to his dismay had been shouted at by Mithat and heard his girl put on temporary lock-down. He'd left a couple of messages on her dating page, as a nice little present during their time apart, for her to find when she could. Filled with desire for her touch on him, knowing it wasn't going to happen any time soon, Ryan had to accept that he would once more left to his imagination.
In addition to the pictures he had taken of her from his surveillance stint, he know had lots more from the local police departments, her school, and the Bureau now that Bella Milonkovic was considered a possible victim and/or witness related to the Tivoli cabin mess. He had almost laughed when he heard about that, the Sheriff thinking Bella was in the silver car's trunk because one of her hairs had gone with him to the car. Now was not the time for thinking, though, nor for worrying.
Sitting at his desk with his earbuds in, Ryan began to open every single file he had on Bella. Every image made him harder, made him wish she could be the one with her mouth around him rather than his own hand. He enlarged the picture of her that most resembled her on that last night they had together. Wearing patterned sheer leggings covered in tiny jean shorts, a tight maroon tank-top and a black jacket, unaware that a camera had spotted her simply walking down a street, Ryan wished he could whisper into Bella's ear. He yearned to tell her the way she could make him rock hard just by existing, just by being her, and oh fuck how he wanted her.
He remained at his desk, his chin leaning on his left elbow for support while he stared at the pixelized girl in front of him, his right hand under the table and in his pants. What had started as slow strokes rapidly escalated, Ryan frantic to finally unburden himself. He hadn't been touched since the night he had been with Bella, and he didn't care if it was quick, if it wasn't an ideal situation. His body practically screamed of desperation, urgently needing to come and bring himself some much-needed bliss.
The day had started easily enough, or as easily as a day can be when one is investigating a major drug enterprise. Until Kamilah Davis had mentioned Helen Torrance's interest in Bella, Ryan hadn't been thinking about the girl at all. He was an expert at compartmentalizing, at controlling his thoughts and emotions to remain at an even pace, but he couldn't help but feel jumpy at the mention of the small town Sheriff.
"Why don't we find out what we can about her, before we decide to help her out?" Ryan purposefully phrased the question as one being time-sensitive rather than hypothetical, for the sake of his task force. He knew that Helen had been a member of Buffalo PD for a few years, then had taken a short leave of absence, only to return to the force and resign soon afterwards. Whether out of weakness or because something better awaited her in Tivoli (although Ryan strongly suspected the former over the latter), he wasn't certain. Their task force, however, would need to know the extent of Sheriff Torrance's skills if they were to continue using her small town for parts of their operation. Despite Kamilah's claims that she was no longer assisting the Sheriff, Kane found it difficult to believe, but knew better than to further press the issue. If Kamilah and Helen were working together, he could learn more about both Helen as a person and her as an investigator who was bent on finding his Bella.
Philip casually glanced at his phone from beneath his maths textbook to see a message from the only person in school he talked to, now that Tommy was out sick. Even when the other brunet was in school, though, Philip didn't interact with him much. He knew when he wasn't wanted, and knew how to maintain his distance.
roof. i need help.
Getting up from his seat under the pretense of going to the bathroom, Philip left the classroom at a normal pace, and once in the hall sprinted towards the back of the building. There was a small ladder there, used for maintenance of the roof, and Philip was surprised no one else had sneaked up there like he and Lukas had several times before. Philip tried to steady his breathing before climbing the rungs, knowing that he needed to remain calm for Lukas's sake.
He saw Lukas crouching on the gravel roof, thankfully a couple feet away from the edge. In the past, when Philip was in middle school in Queens and hung around an interesting crowd of people (to say the least), he had been known for 'talking people away from the edge'. Funny, he thought, how he was always able to tell others what no one would ever tell him. However, he had never literally talked to someone at the edge of a building.
Philip hurried over, cautiously approaching Lukas. He didn't want to startle the blond and make the anxiety worse. "Lukas, you all right?" he asked softly, leaning over so Lukas would be able to hear him. "What's up?" Philip said as he crouched down, making himself at eye level with his friend.
"I can't cry like some bitch," Lukas said through his tears. "Not in school, in front of everybody." He wiped his face with his red-flanneled sleeve.
"You know, everyone cries when they get upset," Philip said, trying to meet the other boy's eyes, but Lukas continued to stare at the gravel.
"Well, I'm not everyone, am I?" Lukas said through clenched teeth, desperate not to let any more tears escape from their ducts. Philip was overcome with the need to help, to say something, but Lukas cut him off, looking him in the face while he spoke. "I know what you're going to say, and I don't want to hear it."
Lukas abruptly stood, walking closer to the edge, Philip closely following with his right arm stretched out to Lukas's left.
"Whoa, wait, wh-what're you doing?"Philip couldn't help the unease that crept into his voice as he took Lukas's hand in his own, and Lukas didn't resist. Lukas continued to look out to the clear afternoon sky, the train continuing on the bridge to their right, the world continuing as if nothing was out of place.
"I keep seeing it," Lukas said after clearing his throat. "Keep seeing him."
Philip stood slightly behind Lukas, shaking his head. "Seeing what, what are you talking about?" Philip rapidly blinked, still unsure of what was happening.
"The guy. I'm standing right behind him," Lukas persisted, his voice devoid of feeling. "I'm holding the frying pan, but I can't move," his voice got quieter. Philip looked at Lukas with concern-filled eyes, his face in agony as if Lukas's affliction and his were one and the same. "He shoots you," Lukas's voice breaks off, "then he turns and looks straight at me. He's gonna kill me. I can't make it stop," Lukas is almost begging now, waiting for the world to end and for his mind to be at peace.
"It's never gonna stop," Philip says as he tugs at Lukas, pulling him closer to himself and slightly further from the building's end. Philip looked down to check their footing before saying, "not unless we tell." He slowly walks backwards with Lukas for a couple of paces, then turns so they're facing each other. As much as Philip knows the struggle Lukas is going through, he still needed to look him in the face, taking a deep breath before he said, "I told you, it's only going to get worse if you keep it a secret. It's..not just gonna go away," he said while he shook his head, "it doesn't work like that." Philip caressed Lukas's right shoulder with his left hand; Lukas's left arm with his right.
"I need something to make me forget this shit," Lukas said, sufficiently more stable than he had been less than five minutes previous.
"I got an idea. Let's go to the city," Philip replied as he placed his arm around Lukas and walked them to the maintenance ladder.
On the train ride in to the city, Lukas didn't say much, but occasionally looked next to him at Philip and gave him small smiles. After walking for a bit, the polluted air still refreshed them, and the teenagers began to talk. Philip didn't give any more details to his idea- and Lukas didn't mind, at first. He was okay with solely being around Philip, and that made him feel...conflicted, to say the least. Pushing the thought out of his mind, he kept going around the city with Philip, the two of them walking with no particular destination. Evening had turned into night, and the last phase of Philip's plan seemed to be across the street from where they stood. Using a fake ID didn't scare him as much as what he saw and anticipated.
"What the fuck, Philip?" Lukas tried to put anger into his voice, but between his brain's thoughts and his stomach's reactions to those thoughts, it sounded to Philip like a whine.
"What?"
"You asshole, don't pretend to be innocent about this," Lukas said, gesturing to the club across the street.
"Why are you so pissed off?" Philip asked, and was genuinely confused.
Lukas began to walk away. "I told you I wanted to get away from all the shit that's been going on, and you bring me here?" Lukas no longer sounded upset. He seemed resigned, and disappointed, more of himself than Philip. How could he have been so stupid?
Philip turned to face Lukas. "Nobody cares who you are in there," he kindly said, "nobody cares, don't you get that?" Philip sighed. All he wanted was for Lukas to realise that what was happening wasn't anything frightening, nothing that should be able to put fear into his eyes and heart the way it did. "I thought this would help."
Lukas stepped closer to Philip and softly placed his left hand on Philip's neck as he leaned in for a kiss. At first, Philip was surprised, then he kissed Lukas back. After Lukas pulled away, Philip smiled in amazement.
"You just kissed me. Outside. In public," Philip couldn't contain his shock. Lukas, surprised with himself, smiled back.
"I guess I did, huh?"Lukas grinned, and kissed Philip again.
When Ryan got Bella's message, it wasn't the way he had hoped for. Unfortunately, that bitch Helen wasn't all that bad at her job; fortunately, she would always remain at least a step behind him.
Ryan drove off in one of the Bureau's black sedans to pick up his girl. The mere thought of seeing her again sent chills down his spine, filled his brain with want and his downstairs brain with need. Breathing the way he did when he was in camouflaged fatigues, waiting for hours delivering the fatal shot, Ryan calmed down and drove. Finding Bella, walking down a street in a short-sleeved short dress, not leaving a lot to the imagination, her hair flowing around her shoulders with a smile on her face- this is what had initially attracted Ryan to her. She was beautiful, without putting in any effort, and she didn't seem to care about the way other people looked at her. She was young and full of joy, not to mention naive. She was predictable. A perfect target.
They would chat online, Bella and 'Nixon', and she would match him sext for sext, sometimes even outdoing his craziest fantasies. When they actually met up, however, she would talk a mean game, strip him, and hesitate. He would tell her not to worry, to take her time, that you can't force these things. And then when she said 'I love you', actually said it to his face, he knew. He knew she would be the death of him, and he would be her end as well.
They drove off together, to 'his place', a house where the family who resided within it were still on summer holiday.
"I have something for you," Bella said, in her honey-sweet voice. Ryan couldn't help but smile, his entire face a mask of happiness. She had given him a bottle of cologne, one she had picked out especially for him. He had put it on while she had taken off her clothes in another room, and then walked into the kitchen in her panties and tank top.
Once more she dictated that he should be sitting down while she straddled his hips.
"Tell me a story. You know, the one about when you first saw me at the hookah bar," Bella played with her hair as she spoke. Ryan told the truth, confessed it all to the young girl, and still she wanted him.
"I know I'm young, I know what the law says, and I. Don't. Care," she pouted. "I'm young, but I'm not stupid."
Ryan was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.
Bella basically begged for Ryan, pleaded with him to finally sleep with her. Ryan wanted to satisfy her, complete her, make her as happy as she made him. He knew from the start of the day what he had to do, and knew now that the time had come.
"Is it going to hurt?" the young girl's eyes looked up towards the man's steely ones, and to her, it didn't matter what he said. As long as she could get what she had been patiently waiting for, she would be convinced by whatever the man could possibly tell her. Hell, he told her about the car from that night that felt like a lifetime ago, he told her about the Sheriff, secretly hoping that she would understand and leave on her own and never mention him again. But he knew that was impossible.
"You have to take me someplace," Bella's voice was full of hope and sincerity as she buried her head on his shoulder. "I love you."
Pain contorted Ryan's face, tears nearly forced their way out of his ducts. Bella clung to Ryan as he pressed her back against the wall.
He searched her face, wondering when it all went wrong. Of course he was concerned, of course he didn't want to hurt her. He never intended to be in this situation at all, but he knew what had to be done.
"It's not gonna hurt, right?"
Kane finished his job, cleaned up, and sat in the car, drenched in sweat. He stared at the bottle of cologne in his hand, knowing that it was truly something special. He sprayed some on his hands and rubbed his neck, allowing the tears to run their course. Crying was usually avoided, but this was most definitely unusual, even for him. Putting his earbuds in once more, wiping his face, Ryan drove into the black night.
"Please, help me understand why you're keeping this an active case," Ryan spoke to Helen over the phone from the New York office, not wanting to be any close to Tivoli than necessary.
"Because our potential witness was found dead, which means our killer could still be out there," he heard the Sheriff's response and her sigh audibly.
"Forgive me for being blunt," Ryan began, "but we have established that she may not have been near that cabin at all. A teenage girl hung herself, and while I'm no expert on the psychology behind teenagers, girls, or suicide, I'm almost certain that it has nothing to do with dead drug dealers."
"And forgive me for being thorough, but I think we should do an autopsy."
Ryan's muscles tensed. "Excuse me?"
"We're being way too polite about this," Sheriff Torrance's voice began to get aggravated, "and I don't feel compelled to repeat myself. I was simply calling to inform your task force, to keep you in the loop about things. I know that you've expanded your surveillance, now that your- now that you have several dead Viscovis, and with Mithat's explosion and all, but I for one firmly believe that the cabin is still relevant."
Now it was Ryan's turn to sigh. Damn it, Kamilah, he thought. Letting the Sheriff know about Chris? What the hell? "Explain," he said.
"If Bella saw something, maybe the bomb was aimed at her and Mithat."
"No. Explain why Bella Milonkovic was in the trunk, kidnapped by Viscovis, and then how the Viscovis turned on each other and she escaped."
"But they didn't!" Helen exclaimed. "Petronelli was a lefty, yet his gun was in his right hand. Someone else shot that gun at the other Viscovis and placed it in his hand, and the gun that shot Petronelli- the killer must have taken it with him."
Ryan let out a minor sigh of relief. At least now Helen would be looking for a gun that he- wait, did he take it with him? Shit, he had been hit hard by that frying pan. He remembered to toss that, but had he taken the gun? And now that he thought about it, who was holding the pan? Maybe he should've taken it to the lab, run DNA analysis on the handle, and-
"-Ryan?"
"Sorry, I had to take a message. What?" Ryan internally berated himself for blanking out like that.
"I was asking if we could do the autopsy in the City. Tivoli isn't exactly known for its morticians," Helen somberly said.
"Can I be present for the exam? I'd like to see why you'd think Mithat needs to delay burying his only child."
"I-"
"-I understand he is a criminal, but seeing as we've only got circumstantial evidence, I would like to be there with you."
Arranging to meet the next day, Ryan hung up the phone, exhausted, knowing that he still had lots more to do. For starters- who was Shea in the cabin with? How could he be certain about his presumed thoughts about the boy? Did he really not have the murder weapon, and if so, where on earth could it be? Would Shea or his unknown companion have it?
Knowing that the FBI's computers were optimized for security and privacy, Ryan still decided to use an anonymous laptop. He'd bought several from a Costco during a sale, and when the checkout clerk had asked, said they were for his step-siblings. Going back to his small yet comfortably furnished apartment, Ryan took one of the laptops, put it in a nondescript backpack, and walked to a subway station. He stopped and transferred at random until eventually settling at one of the many Starbucks the city had to offer, knowing that as long as you bought something and looked busy, most of the employees didn't give a shit. It looked good for business, having a shop crowded with productive people enjoying quality coffee and pastries.
Settled with a coffee at a corner table, Ryan once more Googled Red Hook High, knowing that the most exciting things at a school were rarely published on their actual site. As far as he could tell, Shea didn't have any social media accounts- Kane had used one of the Bureau's many programs to run facial recognition from a rare picture off the school's site. Ryan had seen some crazy high school shit, but this was almost ridiculous. One search had yielded nearly 300 hits accompanied with the hashtag 'yeah boy', 'waldendick', 'savage' 'motocross champ', 'ride that bitch' and a bunch of other things his middle-aged brain had difficulties with. Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, SnapChat, tumblr, pinterest- they all had pictures and video clips of a typical high school house party, red Solo cups and everything, mostly featuring a tall blond boy with pale skin and a darker skinned girl with flowing hair. In some pictures they were separate, but most of them were taken paparazzi-style, and Ryan could see what the teens who had taken the pictures could not- the couple were clearly embarrassed by the spotlight, no matter how hard they tried to play it cool.
Ryan took a sip from his coffee, and started with the pictures and posts that had been tagged with the school first. He had to admit, these kids were either obliviously stupid or, well, just kids. From what he could tell (nothing was too cohesive), these kids were named Waldenbeck and Rose, and they had decided to (or were caught) putting on quite a show for the school. Judging by the natural lighting and the clock on the gym wall, it was clear that the school day was almost over, and as Kane thought the teenagers figured, they would be insured privacy. No wonder the school website didn't put out content like this, he thought as he drank more coffee.
Working through the 'motocross champ' tag and 'savage' next, as those tag seemed to refer to the Waldenbeck kid, Ryan was struck by a flash of insight. Hadn't there been a bike near the cabin that night? Opening another incognito tab, Ryan searched for the Tivoli cabin to find it was on private property. That doesn't fit, he thought. That motocross is nothing like a Viscovi bike, and that cabin doesn't scream 'drugs', so who owns the cabin, and why was he set to be executed there?
Fortunately, anyone can access public property records as long as they know where to look. He wasn't surprised to find that the cabin was registered to a Robert Waldenbeck, but when he searched further for that man, nothing stood out as unusual, which unsettled Kane.
So, Waldenbeck's cabin, Waldenbeck Jr and Shea and the Viscovis got there how? Shaking his head, Ryan took another sip of coffee as he decided to go back to the high school scandal with a fresh outlook and theory in mind. Purposefully looking for Shea this time, Ryan remained with 'savage' and 'motocross champ' tags in one tab and opened another for 'yeah boy' and 'risk it for the biscuit' while he shook his head. He wasn't entirely sure what the hell those things meant, but with context, and sometimes without, he knew he would find what he needed.
His eyes trained on the frames of the images rather than the centers, Ryan kept a lookout for a telltale jacket and was rewarded with a blurry view within seconds. Additionally, some of the images containing the majority of the jacketed boy had captions like 'city trash', 'omg why he so stalkerish?', 'philips a perv', 'dude needs to get a life', 'he's following lukas wtf' and other nasty sentences. Well, at least now I'm sure of Shea, Ryan mused, remembering the night he had spent with Anne, telling her his name- Philip.
"Philip?"
"Why the hell would I lie about that?" Philip repeated. He felt like shouting, but between his headache, his mom randomly coming into town and then meeting Lukas, while, incidentally, Lukas had wanted drugs from her, not to mention Lukas's stunt with Rose, and of course that fucking night, he simply didn't have the energy.
"I just want to be sure before I go over there," Helen said, with a tinge of doubt in her voice. Gabe lightly touched his wife's shoulder.
"Babe, I trust Phil," he told her. "I believe you," Gabe looked directly at his foster son as he spoke.
"Thanks," Philip mumbled under his breath. They were all seated around the kitchen table, and none of them had gotten out of their seats yet, so Philip considered his news to be a victory. Helen, as per usual, was skeptical, and anticipating more questions, Philip spoke again. "Let me say what I need to, and then you can ask me all you want, okay?" Philip began, and when he had received nods from both Helen and Gabe, continued. "Lukas already told you he was at his dad's cabin the day of...you know. Except he wasn't there right after school; he went later. I was taking pictures around town for a couple hours after school and saw him hanging around with some friends. And don't ask me who," Philip looked at Helen, "because I don't have any; I wouldn't know. So he couldn't have been there right after school, and how do I know what he saw? For some reason, maybe 'cause you," Philip gestured at Helen, "are a cop, so he asked me a not-so-hypothetical question?" Philip refused to betray Lukas, even after all that he had dragged him through. Lukas saved my life, I can't deny that, he thought, and I promised him, but we're both not stupid enough to pretend we haven't heard the rumors.
Philip considered taking out his phone to text Lukas, but that would be too risky. Helen would only press him further and Gabe might even start to side with his wife. Should he tell them that he had been with Lukas, just taking footage for his sponsors, and they deleted the video because they were spotted by the killer? Then what? It would be bad enough to just say the story with Lukas and leave himself out, but either way left a gaping hole in his chest filled with guilt. After a deep breath, he said,
"Remember how my mom came by to visit?"
"Yeah, a couple days ago," Gabe responded before Helen could. Even though Helen was a detective, she sometimes pushed to hard with an interrogation rather than letting the person across the table speak.
Philip gulped and looked down as he continued with his somewhat crazy train of thought. "Don't interrupt, please," he choked out. I'm so sorry, Lukas, he thought right before he said, "the first thing she asked was if I was okay, how I like being with you guys, which I do, and I know I don't always act like it...she asked if I had nice friends, and, um, if I had a boyfriend who treated me well. Lukas...that's why he told me about what he saw. He was scared, his dad hates when he goes near the cabin, and then when the killing started and he had to hide- well, you know. He had to hide in the small pantry thing-" Philip, who had 'never been in the cabin', wouldn't know it was a closet, and there would be no fucking way Lukas would ever admit to hiding in a closet, especially once their relationship was known "-and after the last body dropped, he swung a pan or something at the guy's back and kept hitting him 'til he was unconscious. He made me promise not to tell," Philip's voice cracked as he looked up across the table.
To his surprise, they didn't appear to be upset. "You can ask me stuff now," he nervously said, expecting to be bombarded with a variety of questions ranging from 'you're gay?' to 'lukas?' to 'why tell now?' Thankfully, that last question was asked first by Helen.
"Well, when you got back from the autopsy you were mad about losing a potential witness and a weapon, and I knew where you could find both." Even Philip was shocked to hear how calm he sounded, as if these kinds of things were typical dinner conversation topics. It was also surprising how Gabe didn't glare at Helen for bringing her work so close to home, but Philip knew he had put a strain on their marriage and was content with the scene in front of him.
"Um, could I maybe warn Lukas before you go over there?" Philip asked, suddenly feeling nervous again. "I want him to be okay before you start freaking him out again."
Helen turned her head sideways, "What do you mean, 'again'?"
"It's bad enough having to see a dead body once. Seeing three, killed in front of you, every time you close your eyes and try to sleep..." Philip trailed off.
"You're doing the right thing, Son," Gabe said, his voice holding his usual mellow tone, his face revealing the pain he felt for Philip. Looking to Helen for confirmation, and receiving a nod in response, Gabe let their foster son exit through the front door.
Ryan Kane had seen many bodies in morgues before, many of them in worse shape than the cadaver in he was about to visit with Tivoli's favorite sheriff, but he hadn't been personally involved with any of those bodies.
As he walked into the examination room with Helen, Ryan remarked, "It's awful, when the young die. And at their own hands..."
"Is it worse than when they are murdered?" was her response. He sensed she was holding back information about the case, and only brought him in for show.
"She wasn't looked at in your station?" he asked, trying to gauge her reaction.
"In Tivoli? Honestly, Ryan, why would we examine a cadaver more than we need to, especially with her father waiting?" Helen's face was almost as composed as Bella's.
The mortician went around Bella, methodically pointing out her various superficial wounds. So far, so good, Ryan thought. Helen stood slightly behind the agent, watching him closely as he watched the mortician.
"As you can see," said the mortician,"the girl choked herself, bare-handed, before she used the rope. There was a delay between each strangulation, though, almost as if she hesitated. It often happens with those who attempt suicide- they try it one way, what they see as a weaker way, and work their way up to use something bigger than themselves- illegal substances, prescription drugs, blades, booze. Usually what begins as 'natural'," the mortician made air quotes around the word, "self-harming behaviours, like depriving oneself of food and/or drink, or binging on it, or a combination of both, forcing oneself to remain awake for days at a time, purposefully putting themselves in harm's way- or, as our girl here, turned her own hands against her neck. We've also seen people who've punched-"
"I think we get it," Ryan surprised Helen by speaking. "And then, when their bodies fail, this type of shit happens. So what can you tell us, specifically, about Bella?" It was the first time anyone in the room had spoken the dead girl's name aloud, and that sobered the situation in an instant.
Ryan nodded along at all the right moments, frowned when he could tell they were called for, but wasn't actively listening to the report. He knew all too well about the damage he had caused. When the exam was done, and the mortician asked, "satisfied?", the agent and sheriff both nodded before they left the room together. The agent was nowhere near satisfied with the mess he had made, but what could he else was he supposed to do? Look the sheriff in the eyes and say, 'I killed Mithat's teenage daughter because I was having an affair with her. Her hair was on my body before the Viscovis shoved me into the trunk and then I shot them in that cabin'?
If only I could just get out of all of this, like she did, Ryan thought. If only I had never been appointed to this task force, if only I was never running that surveillance op, if only I had been shot in Afghanistan... These thoughts weren't going to get him anywhere productive, as much as he wished they could have, so he turned his attention back to the damn case.
The cabin still wasn't making any sense- the Viscovis with Mithat was understandable; after all, they were in the same business- but it was that damn cabin that Ryan couldn't get over. What made it so important?
Thinking about the cabin made him think about Philip, and the Waldenbeck kid. What could he do about them? Kane's research had given him Waldenbeck's address, motorbike registration, the leagues and circuits the kid competed in, and hundreds of those hashtags from the previous week. As for Philip Shea- nothing in the entire Dutchess County. Was it possible that Anne gave him up for adoption, and her last name became his second?
Back at the task force's makeshift headquarters in Poughkeepsie, after Ryan had gone over the recent Viscovi info with his operatives, he widened his search for his son. The foreign word numbed his mind temporarily, making him flash back to memories over a decade old. With a shake of his head, Ryan pushed those thoughts back as he searched yet again for the young Shea. There weren't any leases in Anne's name, so it was possible she still rented basement rooms in cash, but in Tivoli? After an agonizing hour with no further progress, his minds swamped with images of Bella and Philip and the drug bust plans they had coming up, Ryan turned to another tactic.
If he couldn't find Anne or Philip, perhaps he could get lucky and find Lukas. Not for anything sinister, never that, Ryan pondered. I'll just mention that I'm a friend of Philip's mother, and that she needed to see him. Yes, that would do just fine.
Philip called Lukas as soon as he left the house. "C'mon, pick up, pick up," he muttered as he got on his bike and started off towards the Waldenbeck's.
"Philip?" Lukas sounded as if he had slept for an hour of peace, only to be woken by grief. "What-"
"-I don't have much time, so please Lukas, just listen," Philip said as he pedaled onward. "I'm worried about you and I'm coming over. I don't care if your dad is there."
"You're starting to worry me, now," Lukas replied. Before he could say anything else, Philip said, "Just let me know if you want me to go to your room or wait outside."
"Whatever," Lukas's voice was shaky. "Philip-" but the boy had already hung up.
Philip jumped off the bike as soon as he reached the barn where Lukas had been making signs for the turkeys only a couple weeks previous, happy to see that Lukas was waiting for him.
"Everyone I'm close with gets messed up, and I'm so sorry, Lukas," Philip sobbed once he reached his boyfriend. Lukas was too stunned to immediately respond. He held out his arms and hugged Philip.
"You know I don't talk much, I'm not good with words at all, so you mind telling me what is happening right now?" Lukas kept his voice gentle, remembering how Philip had spoken to him on the school's roof. "I was messed up way before I met you."
Philip smiled, tears still in his eyes as he left Lukas's embrace.
"That's better, Philip." Lukas mirrored the smile as he led Philip to his house. Noticing Philip's hesitation, Lukas paused and said, "it's okay. He's in Poughkeepsie for the night, and even if he wasn't, you're welcome here."
Hearing Lukas say that brought more involuntary tears from Philip. "I'm sorry for being such a baby."
"Don't," Lukas looked directly at Philip before he gave him a light kiss. They walked inside and up to Lukas's room, where it was clear he had been sleeping in earlier.
Whereas Lukas was fine with sitting on the bed, Philip stood in the room's doorway. "You're probably not going to like this," Philip spoke as he slowly entered the room, bracing himself for anything. Just as he had done previously in person with his foster parents and over the phone with Lukas, he insisted on talking.
"Helen knows you were in the cabin and that you have the killer's gun," Philip blurted, still standing. "You're really starting to worry me- the nightmares, asking for drugs, the way you react to loud sounds. I want to help you, Lukas. You gotta let me help you."
Silence for a long moment, and then Lukas spoke. "Sit down," he said, patting the bed next to him. "I won't bite unless you want me to."
Confusion replaced consternation on Philip's face as he sat down facing Lukas.
"Thank you," Lukas said, placing his hands on Philip's cheeks, the brunet boy visibly shaking. "Holy shit, Philip, you're acting like I'm gonna snap your neck."
Philip flinched back reflexively, and Lukas retracted his hands.
"Philip?" Lukas's eyebrows scrunched together as he looked at Philip. "It was a joke."
"I know," Philip replied, although he didn't look certain. "Why are you thanking me?"
Lukas laughed, another unexpected response to what Philip thought would be like doomsday news. "Don't you get it? They can finally get this son of a bitch, my dad can stop harassing my ass- wait, is Helen going to tell him?" Lukas's face fell, his exhaustion caught up to him.
"Um," Philip gulped, "she will. You're a minor, she's a cop. She can't just talk to you about a crime." Philip reached his hands out towards Lukas's. "Like I said, I'm sorry."
"Yeah," Lukas replied, taking Philip's hands and softly holding them. "Hey, what did you mean on the phone when you said you're running out of time? They'd better not be kicking you out." Anger entered the blond's voice.
Philip caressed Lukas's fingers with his thumbs. "Why does it matter if I'm in Tivoli or not?"
Lukas stared open-mouthed at Philip. "And people think I'm the stupid one." He shook his head. "Because I like you, idiot."
Philip leaned in and enthusiastically kissed Lukas. Lukas eagerly responded, untangling his hands from Philip's and moving them up his chest.
"Wait," Philip breathed. "The time thing? I was trying to warn you that Helen would be coming over to interview you soon."
Lukas kissed Philip in response. "Well, until she gets here..."
Ryan Kane had driven to the Waldenbeck farm, and to his relief, found Bo's pickup gone. He saw the kid, Lukas, rush outside to the shed-like attachment wearing jeans and hurriedly pulling on a plaid shirt, looking like he'd been suddenly woken up. What was with these people and flannel? More importantly, what caused him to rush outside? Ryan's own car was parked further in the trees, hidden from sight and sound. Looking through his binoculars, Ryan noticed the boy anxiously pace around until a bicycle rushed into view and a brunet stumbled off of it. Hardly believing his good fortune, Kane focused his binoculars to find Philip Shea, and then saw him embracing Lukas Waldenbeck. That put both his witnesses together, which was good, but also provided an issue. Convincing a teenager like Philip that he was a friend of his mom, and that she was in urgent need of his care, would be an easy task. Convincing a teenager like Lukas Waldenbeck to give up Philip's location would have been the easier first task.
Convincing both of them to willingly go anywhere with him...would Philip be more skeptical if he had Lukas around? Or would Lukas be a buddy and go for the ride with Philip? Ryan carefully pondered his options, but before he could act on his decision, Helen's Jeep pulled up. What the hell?
Helen stayed in the house for nearly an hour (and unless she knew they were witnesses, why?), and when evening had fallen and she had left, the boys had walked her to the door. So it would be a sleepover, then, and sleepy people were easier to manipulate than wakeful ones. Kane almost instantly pushed that idea aside, knowing that doors and windows would be locked, and that Mr Waldenbeck may return. Instead, Ryan decided to wait on a side road closer to the high school than the farm. If his theory was correct, and his theories usually were, then the boys would both be riding on the motorbike to school. And if what Ryan had researched was also true, 'Waldendick' wouldn't be caught hanging around his stalker, meaning they would have to stop at some point before the school.
With Philip out of the picture, Lukas wouldn't be a problem.
Ryan heard the motorbike before he saw it, and noticed two figures on it, on in a white helmet and the other in black. The white rider in the front must be Lukas, because there would be no way a guy like that would let anyone else actually drive his precious baby. The bike slowed to a stop, and the rider in black got off the bike, gesturing for the rider to keep going. Lukas rode off to the school, and Philip continued to walk at a leisurely pace, not noticing the black car that remained consistently at his left side.
"Philip Shea?" Ryan rolled down his passenger-side window and spoke as calmly as he could, hoping that his face was disguised for long enough to get the boy in the car. As expected, the boy slowed down, yet remained on guard. Ryan's eyes were covered by sunglasses and he was entirely clean-shaven, dressed in a light t-shirt and faded jeans. He had a baseball cap pulled low over his face, knowing that if Philip recognized him, all would be lost. "I'm Kyle, I work with your mom in rehab."
That sure got the kid's attention. "She's not supposed to have visitors now, but she's been calling for you and told me to get you. She says she needs to see you."
Philip now approached the vehicle with no hesitation, all rationale vanished from his brain. By the time he got into the passenger seat and closed the door, Ryan had locked it- on child-safety mode, and stepped on the gas pedal.
Helen returned to the Waldenbeck's after the school day had ended. Philip had sent her a text saying he would be going into the city to visit an old family friend, and she wasn't in the mood for a fight. If Anne's rehab center allowed a visit, then that would be okay, and Helen could forget to tell the Social Service worker about it. If Helen were to receive a call from the center saying that she should take Philip back, then she or Gabe would personally go and bring him back, and still forget about it. They had all made such an effort for their time-sensitive family to function, and none of them wanted to risk it debilitating, especially now that honesty was going around almost as quickly as Gabe could make pancakes.
The sheriff could hear raised voices as she approached the door. Usually she wouldn't eavesdrop, but given the circumstances, she felt more than justified in her decision.
"I said, forget it!" she could hear Bo clearly through the closed door. What was said by his son wasn't anywhere near as clear as Bo's loud voice. Helen thought she heard, "...got him...left...took...need to..." before Bo yelled again.
"Ever since that Philip kid has been hanging around, he's only brought trouble with him! If he's gone, good riddance!" A door slammed from inside the house, and Helen counted to twenty before she knocked on the door.
"Tivoli PD! Mr. Waldenbeck, it's Helen," she spoke loudly, as the door was quite solid. When Lukas opened the door, Helen feigned surprise.
"Hi Mrs Torrance..Sheriff Torrance," the teenager stammered.
"Hello, Lukas." Helen smiled. "Is it all right if we pick up from yesterday?" She received a nod for yes, and Lukas led her to the living room. "I can't stay for long, though. We're waiting to get results back from- Hello, Mr Waldenbeck," Helen turned towards him, smelling whiskey on him although he still stood a yard away.
"You here to finally talk some sense into my boy, have him stop hanging around Philip?" Bo practically spat out the name of Helen's foster son.
"As a matter of fact, yes," she replied, earning her an astounded look from Lukas. "I wanted to talk about Philip and apologise for his recent behaviors towards Lukas."
"Took you long enough," Bo didn't try to mask his contempt at all.
"May I take Lukas with me to the station? Philip is there- don't worry," she reassured an on-edge Bo, "he's going back to his mother, and I would like him to apologise to Lukas first. I thought you'd prefer keeping Philip at the station rather than in your house," Helen concluded. Bo nodded his head in consent while Lukas looked absolutely lost.
"He'll be back within an hour," Helen told Bo, "unless there's a girl you'd rather stay in town with for a while?" she then asked Lukas, who responded by staring at the floor.
"Sounds good to me," Lukas said and walked out the door, closely followed by Helen. They got into the Jeep, and the sheriff decided it would be best to let Lukas start the dialogue. Within a minute, the boy's restless energy couldn't be contained any longer.
"So he's safe?" Lukas blurted as Helen drove towards town, puzzled by the question.
"What are you talking about, Lukas?" although she had a vague idea, hearing mumbled words through a door was nothing compared to hearing them directly.
"Philip, he...I dropped him off near school this morning." He felt Helen briefly take her eyes off the road to stare at him. "It was his idea. I told him I didn't mind, but he's stubborn sometimes and wanted to walk for like a block, so I let him. When I looked in the rear-view, he was getting into a car with some guy who drove off super fast. I got a text saying he was fine, that some guy who worked with his mom had come to get him, but.."
They had reached the station. Tony, per usual, was bouncing around like a child on Christmas.
"If you know something, say something," Helen said as she held the door open for Lukas.
"We got the DNA results back," Tony beamed. "You're right; it's the same as the first rape kit we ran on Mithat's daughter."
"Not Mithat," Helen confirmed.
"Not Mithat," Tony repeated, standing proudly. After a beat he said, "oh, you mean, who is it? I thought I'd wait for you. Perfect timing, huh?"
Helen sighed. "Tony, while your enthusiasm is appreciated, you must know that we have a serial killer on the loose. Next time, just open the damn results."
Tony's face lost all its puppy-dog excitement.
"I get that I offended you, but-"
Then Helen saw the results in Tony's hands, and his expression made perfect sense.
Lukas, who had been standing next to Helen, was unable to control his stomach. For the second time in a matter of weeks, he vomited on the floor of the sheriff's station, this time without the aid of alcohol.
"Man, what is it with you and ruining our floors?"
"As helpful as you've been in this investigation, I am so glad I left you in the dark about this," Helen said as she went to get a mop and cleaning supplies. Tony looked sideways at Lukas, wondering why seeing Ryan Kane's DNA results made him lose his lunch.
The teenager wasn't entirely sure why Helen had lied to his father's face and bought him extra time, but he was nonetheless thankful. "He has Philip," Lukas managed to cough out. "That guy from the cabin, he took Philip this morning."
"Shit," was all the younger cop could offer in response. "Why wasn't it called in?" He asked after a minute.
"Because we've been strung along, running in circles," Helen walked back in with a mop. "Lukas, sit on the couch. Kane turned off Philip's phone; most likely threw it out somewhere, and set the number to automatically send messages."
"Damn, the FBI got some fun toys."
"Not now. Can you put out a BOLO for Philip, Ryan, the car, and liaise with SWAT and NCIC?"
"Acronyms. I got this, I got this," Tony went to his desk and began to work while Helen moped and Lukas nearly fainted.
Hours had passed since Philip had first entered the car and since 'Kyle' had taken his phone and thrown his school bag into the backseat. 'Kyle' didn't speak for most of their ride, and Philip didn't bother offering a conversation. The guy already knew his name, where he lived, went to school, and that his mom was in rehab. Oh, and that he had witnessed a triple homicide. Great.
Philip understood the 'how' of the situation- mostly. Google was the place to go for information, but Philip instinctively knew that the killer had more than just the internet to help him. Helen already had the weapon, probably already had this man's genetic identification elsewhere, so why would a killer decide to go on the run with a hostage instead of hiding underground? Why would a killer kidnap a witness rather than finish him off? Why didn't the killer also take Lukas?
Why did the killer hesitate to pull the trigger the first time he saw Philip, giving Lukas the opportunity to strike with a frying pan?
When they had crossed the border to New Jersey, after about three hours of silence- no conversations, no radio, no phones- the killer spoke.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Philip," 'Kyle' told the teenager in the passenger seat beside him.
Philip knew he probably should have held his tongue, but what would be the point? It seemed obvious that he wasn't going to make it out of this situation alive, or at least in more than one consecutive piece of flesh, so he replied.
"But you have met me before." Sarcasm laced his words rather than bewilderment. Rather than wondering why the man was being chatty, Philip decided to hell with it all and just speak whatever came to mind, in whatever tone he pleased.
The killer turned his grey-blue eyes to Philip for an instant, and something familiar flashed in them. Not something he'd seen in the cabin, but not something he could place either. "A gun to the face is hardly the proper way to be introduced."
"And lying to someone to trick them into your car is proper? What a gentleman; your mother must be proud." Something about that line made the driver shudder for a moment.
"Your mother...It's been a while since I've seen Anne. How is she?" The question was phrased neutrally.
Philip took a moment before he responded. He had watched this man kill, and had personally been a victim to his speech. Was it possible that this man really did know his mom, or was he lying the same way he said he worked at the rehab center? "There was me thinking you had been with her recently. I guess lying is your forte, huh?"
Ryan Kane kept asking questions, about Anne and about Philip, but Philip had tuned him out. He thought instead of Helen and Gabe, and whether or not they knew he had been taken; of anything other than his mom or-
"-Lukas?"
Forgetting that he was supposed to be ignoring the killer, Philip reflexively turned at Lukas's name.
The killer smiled and continued driving down the highway, like this was just another family road trip. "Lukas. Nice name for a nice boy. He treat you well?"
That really blindsided Philip. What the fuck was happening? This man had killed others point-blank, stalked teenagers and then kidnapped one, and then began to ask questions like that? Philip remained still, looking out into his window as the highway rushed past him, wanting to jump out of the door.
"He saved you, didn't he?" the killer softly asked.
So that's how he knew about Lukas, Philip thought. He must've looked up the cabin and realized Lukas was there with me. But how does he know me?
"Your jacket," the killer replied, as if he knew where Philip's thoughts were going. "Not many young men named Shea in the world who've inherited those jackets."
Philip suddenly felt nauseous, and afraid. Earlier, when he had first entered the car under false pretenses, he had been nervous. That feeling eroded faster than what he thought to be humanly possible into a feeling of...something he couldn't describe with one word. He felt as if he deserved what was about to happen, so instead of anticipating and worrying about all the things that could occur, he would wait until the inevitable simply happened. Now, however, dread settled into his veins, flooding him with despair stronger and faster than any chemical injection.
"I think I'm going to throw up," Philip mumbled, physically tearing at the seams. If he let himself be sick, ruining the killer's car, he would surely be punished; if he didn't vomit, he'd have to swallow that shit back down and that could possibly trigger the very thing he needed yet needed to avoid.
Kane didn't doubt his son's statement, and cautiously rolled the backseat windows down an inch each, allowing the evening's brisk air to circulate in the small car.
Miles away, after the station in Tivoli had lit up like a neon club, red and blue flashing down Main Street at all angles, Lukas sat awkwardly on the porch to Gabe and Helen's house. The couple had done all they could to find Philip- they rang the rehab, alerted the FBI, assembled search and rescue teams, called in helicopters...
Nothing. I should've made him stay on the bike with me, Lukas thought. It didn't really matter, it was just a ride, why did it frighten him so much that he had finally done what he had been truly afraid of all along- pushing Philip away to the point of no return? Lukas had texted his dad that he would be spending the night at Rose's, knowing that Bo wouldn't check either way.
"You did the right thing, Lukas," Helen approached the front steps. "I can't imagine what you went through, and all the trauma...You can stay with us as long as you need."
Lukas looked from Helen to her husband, unsure of himself. "Um, that's very generous and all, but I can't accept. My dad-"
"-I'll talk to him," Gabe promised, "and I won't say anything that doesn't pertain directly to him. I'll just explain to him about your bike needing gas, and you only saw the man exit the cabin, that's it. Helen's the best of the best; he'd be a fool not to give us permission to protect you."
"He's probably ecstatic that Philip's not here," Lukas muttered, a lone tear streaking across his cheek.
Gabe exchanged a glance with his wife before he sat next to Lukas. "We can keep you safe, Lukas-,"
"-like you kept Philip safe, huh?" Lukas angrily stood up to be greeted with vertigo. He hadn't eaten anything in hours or slept well for days, except with Philip by his side last night. He walked away a couple of paces, then paused, and retreated. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean," he tried to say, but Helen verbally shushed him and Gabe pulled him into a hug.
Philip thought he was dreaming. He felt like he was laying on a bed, but he knew he was still in the car. Nothing was moving around him, and he heard the faint sounds of a rain shower. When he rubbed his eyes and sat up, Philip really started to freak out. He was, in fact, in a bed, although he had no idea where or how he had gotten there. What he had mistaken for rain was actually a shower in the adjoined bathroom. Taking a quick inventory of himself, he let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding when he realised he was still entirely clothed.
Philip shivered, and although running water usually calmed him, this only exacerbated his anxiety. He searched his pockets for his phone, and found no phone, keys, wallet, or anything else of value, material or personal. What was happening? He heard the water stop in the shower and wasn't in the mood for any more strange questions, so Philip feigned sleep.
"I'm telling you, man, what else could've happened?"
"Heard he got back to his crackhead mother and they OD'ed together."
"The fag was all talk. He got scared the second his hookup got naked."
"No, he jumped into the Hudson."
"He couldn't stand being rejected by Waldenbeck."
"Dude, he took one of the Sheriff's guns and blew his brains out."
Lukas Waldenbeck kept his head down as he walked down the small school's hallways, not able to meet the gazes of his so-called friends. It had been an entire week since he had last seen Philip, and if Philip wasn't the subject of gossip as the new kid in town, he certainly was now as the new gay kid with a druggie mom, and it seemed to Lukas that nearly everyone had an opinion on Philip. Oh, so now we can talk about him, when he's not even here to defend himself?!
Philip had been gone without a trace, and Lukas filled in that void in Helen and Gabe's house. Lukas now lay awake on Philip's bed, tossing and turning, and worst of all, thinking. Lukas thought about everything that had transpired since he'd met Philip- he thought about how they 'accidentally' first spoke to each other, how he felt comfortable around the new boy, how it felt to be with Philip on the cabin's bed. He thought about the killer, the murder weapon, the web of deceit he forced Philip into, the flashbacks, the time he had kissed Philip outside that club in New York...
With Philip gone, Lukas didn't have a moral compass when it came to coping mechanisms for the horrors he experienced. Helen had already seen him empty his stomach twice, and she would clearly know if he'd been drinking. Gabe suggested that Lukas should simply ride around, go through the motions of life, but every time Lukas tried a new stunt or an old jump, he subconsciously turned to where Philip would've been filming. Every time a sharp cracking sound echoed through the forest, his ears rang and he'd lose his balance, unable to walk for at least a minute. Philip had pleaded with him not to do drugs, and Lukas couldn't bring himself to take any substances.
"Hey, babe," Rose cheerfully approached, and placed a kiss on his cheek. "You on another planet or something? You almost walked right into your locker."
"Yeah, I was up till three am practicing for the big race," Lukas managed to say, as if he were on autopilot. I guess Gabe does have a point, he thought.
"I was thinking," Rose said with twinkling eyes and a wide smile on her face, swaying from side to side, "that maybe you and me could go out by the lake for a swim later." She bit her lip and the look she gave him screamed, 'do me.'
Running on automatic, Lukas devilishly grinned back. "I love that big brain of yours."
Rose kissed him lightly yet passionately on the lips before she hurried off to her home-room. Making sure that he was out of her sight, and that the others still loitering in the halls were still talking shit and paying him no attention, Lukas silently slipped out of the school building. The lake was the perfect idea, only his idea varied quite drastically from his 'girlfriend' 's.
That was another nearly crystal-clear memory he had of Philip- the day of the shower conversation. Thinking about it made him shudder, both pleasantly and not. It wasn't as if they had been in the shower together- hell, Philip wasn't even in the shower; he was sitting shirtless with his back towards its door, his eyes closed as the water pounded on the tiles. Lukas had gotten up from his bed, worried that Philip had suddenly fled from his house like he had done when they were first together, only to hear the sounds of the water going steady from the bathroom in the hall.
"Philip?" Lukas asked, and as he knocked, the door lightly swung ajar. He continued to slowly move the door further, giving Philip time to- well, whatever he needed to do- before Lukas would catch up to him. Finding Philip on the floor was definitely not the way he had anticipated their night. With his back to the shower, his knees drawn to his chest, his arms wrapped around himself, with his head slumped over in his lap, the brunet teenager appeared to have shrunk into a child.
When Philip raised his head, his face had a spattering of tears on it, but Philip himself was a mess. Seeing Lukas approach, Philip made a motion to turn of the water, but Lukas shook his head, 'no'.
"What's wrong?" Lukas asked as he sat next to Philip, close enough to hold hands. Philip mirrored Lukas's 'no', so the boys sat in silence as the water serenaded them.
"I used to do this as a kid, when I would get scared." Philip volunteered after a few minutes, taking Lukas's hands in his as he spoke. "I would put on the water, let it run. Close my eyes, pretend it was flowing over me, that whatever I was afraid of couldn't touch me if the water was above me."
Another silence; Lukas's face slowly becoming the epitome of consternation. "But, Philip," Lukas gulped, "you told me you couldn't swim."
"I can't."
The shower ran for hours, all the while the boys sat before it, shivering while holding each other; holding their anchors.
"You think this is funny?" Philip yelled across what had to be the eighth crappy motel he was in this week.
Ryan kept his steely eyes neutral, refusing to look anywhere but Philip, hoping the boy would rage and tire himself out.
"What, you gonna cut off my arm next, beg me to rule the galaxy with you?" Philip closed the gap between the two of them. "I already told you I'd co-operate, and I have no reason for denying the truth, but why are you still lying?"
"I swear on my life, I'm not lying about this," Ryan tried to look into Philip's eyes as he spoke, but Philip refused. "That jacket you were wearing before belonged to your mother's father. He was a great man, from what Anne told me. Did you know that he wanted to be there when you were born?"
Philip turned on his heels. 'Shut. Up." he growled from behind clenched teeth.
"Philip, have you ever wondered why she named you that, and not after her father? She would write me letters about 'our little PJ'," Ryan's eyes now had that same far-away look Philip was ever so accustomed to seeing on his mother's face.
Philip lunged, fist-first towards Ryan, only to be met by a shattering blow to the side of his head.
Their next conversation was notably less animated, considering Philip had been so aggressive previously that Ryan felt some duct tape wouldn't hurt too much this time around. Besides, duct tape was very good at keeping bags of ice in place, and the boy needed a cold compress on his face. Their next interaction also occurred in a new rental car, Ryan being vigilant for the law.
Philip, being gagged, interrupted his father in stifled gasps while Ryan talked for nearly an hour as he drove them through back roads about how he had met Anne, and when he got the first picture of fetus Philip, and his surprise at actually meeting his son nearly two decades later.
Three days after that, Ryan had determined that duct tape and child-locks on cars were no longer obligatory. It wasn't that Philip liked the idea of having a dad, but the rationale fit. Philip's rationality was often emotion-based; for example, a small part of him would never be able to accept Ryan's statements while the majority concluded that whether or not Ryan actually was his father, Philip still deserved to be stuck with the killer.
In her small temporary bedroom at the rehabilitation center, it was clear where Philip's emotional logic came from. Anne had spent the first few days of her son's kidnapping blaming Helen- after all, she was the sheriff. The blame shifted to herself, left her bed-ridden, trapped in her own mind. Philip would have never gone missing if he had never been in Tivoli, and he would never have been in Tivoli if she could just have gotten her life together. Forget about all those 'rules' the two of them had come up with, that's not what real families do, Anne thought to herself as she buried her face in a pillow. And to make matters worse, Philip had been taken by the killer he had seen in the cabin. Anne was forbidden by legal restraints to learn more about that bastard's identity, but even if she knew who had her son, there would be nothing for her to do personally to get him back. At least she was in a rehab center and not a psych unit in some crappy downtown hospital. But what difference would it be- the same style room and bed, in a different place, with the same types of people- if her baby was still gone?
Philip's biological mother wasn't the only one losing sleep over Philip. Helen, who was a composed hard-ass, had spent a night at the kitchen table with only a bottle of vodka for company. What kind of detective takes weeks to discover that the leads were almost written on the walls, and takes even longer to realise that she'd been in the killer's presence before?
Even Gabe, sweet mild-mannered Gabe, who always knew what to do to alleviate tension and provide solace, was at a loss. His foster son was his for barely a quarter of a year, but Philip wasn't just some kid they agreed to from Social Services. He and Helen had made the decision together to have a family of their own, albeit not in the most conventional way, and they had been shown cases from all over the area with broken bones and crushed souls. As if by destiny, Philip Shea's manila folder had impacted Gabe and his wife equally, and they knew that Philip would be theirs for as long as he needed them to be there for him.
Across town, Bo Waldenbeck had been ready to ascend the staircase despite the amount of alcohol he had imbibed in rapid succession. At first he thought his ears were ringing, that he imagined a sound, but as he neared his son's door the noise became clearer. Bo roughly opened the door without knocking.
Lukas lay on his bed, facing the ceiling, earbuds in and audibly crying.
"What the fuck?" Bo's words slurred together as he stared at his immobile son. "You better not be pump' full of drugs, high a' a kite. Not with the comp-e-se-sion t'mruw. Wha' 're you bein' a bish abou'?"
Lukas sat up and removed his earbuds. Calmly, he looked at his father and said, "I don't ride bikes anymore."
Bo's eyes widened with rage. "Wha'?"
"You heard me," Lukas shook nervously as he spoke, unable to keep up the serene facade. "And I'm crying because that's what happens to people when they're scared." He remembered Philip telling him that on the school's roof, and the dam burst. A sharp sting met his left cheek, causing him to turn, and getting the pang of a slap to his right cheek as well. Lukas tuned his father out as he was repeatedly beat and cursed at, not caring that tears would worsen the outcome. Yeah, right, Lukas thought, my life is so hard because i got daddy issues, while Philip is out in the middle of nowhere with a pedophile who happened to be a serial murder who worked for the government. Once Bo was finished, too drunk to be any more abusive, and had left the room, Lukas picked up his iPod and made his way to the bathroom. Locking the door, he turned the shower on, closed the curtain, and sat on the bathroom's cold tile floor as he listened to the playlist Philip had made for them. Philip had a knack for naming his playlists, and this one was bitter-sweetly titled, 'does your stomach hurt? ;)'
"What do you think of this one?" Ryan asked, gesturing towards the red Toyota in yet another rental-car lot. "Look like a family-friendly one?"
Philip had been walking around the lot, thankful for the air, and wished he had his camera with him. He still didn't comprehend the situation he was in, or maybe his brain had gone on lock-down without notice, leaving him blissfully ignorant to the obvious? The car was conspicuous enough, so Philip nodded back and said, "Sure."
Ryan had developed an adequate amount of trust with his son over the second week of their journey; either that or Philip was conditioned enough that attempts to leave would never cross his mind. Leaving Philip in the lot, Ryan entered the small office to register for their car.
"On the road again," Ryan walking out the glass door, smiling with the key stretched out before him.
They traveled lightly, only a backpack each, never needing to open the car trunks or backseats. They had a cardboard box full of canned items and cereal, almost as if they had robbed a food bank, although Philip wouldn't be shocked if that's where it came from. Ryan would occasionally buy fast food when they needed to refill the gas tank, and Philip was strangely content.
Ryan had never requested that Philip refer to him as 'Dad'- he had admitted to his honest name of Ryan Kane early on; and he didn't mention Anne. Additionally, Kane never verbalized 'son' again, and didn't give any indication that he had been the same man who shot three others.
Sheltered from the world around him, Philip lived in his mind more often than not. Kane had forbidden the radio from being turned on in the fear of BOLOs, and the same was true for motel-room television. Philip mainly focused on his mother, as she was when he was younger- less artificially stimulated, more natural around him; pleasant. He focused on canoes, although he wasn't sure why, because he couldn't swim. His thoughts would turn to who he had named his White Rider, who wore a white breastplate and helmet and saved the day while riding a motocross bike rather than a horse. The savior, like the canoes, puzzled him, but he didn't try to push those thoughts away. If he had held on to them, there had to have been a reason.
The White Rider was no longer, just as he never had been. He wasn't a knight in armor, effortlessly fending off mighty enemies. If he had to be on top of the feudal system, he supposed he would be a simple prince, ruling his kingdom hand in hand with his own savior. Lukas was fine with being a guy who simply wanted to be able to return to his man at the end of the day, knowing that they were equally responsible for each other's well-being- that they'd have each others' backs and that's all that mattered.
Lukas had left school early, wandered out without a clue where he would go to seek refuge, and was surprised to find himself outside of The Barn- the place where Philip had made playlists and taken pictures with the Polaroid Lukas had given him, the place where Lukas had told Philip that he didn't want a girlfriend, the place where the two of them had once spent an entire Friday night doing nothing except cuddle, talk, and occasionally kiss. What they had talked about Lukas could not recall, but he knew they had been smiling and teasing each other and they were comfortable with themselves.
Footsteps approached Lukas from behind, and Lukas spun around in fear. Gabe raised his hands, palms up, the universal non-threatening stance.
"It's good to see you again, Lukas," Gabe said. Neither him nor Helen had seen Lukas after Philip's first full week missing. "You're welcome to stay, you know, and not just in the barn."
Gabe walked away after giving the boy a short hug imbued with love. Lukas settled for the barn, wanting to be in the itchy hay of the loft and play Philip's songs and pretend they were together, and not just a ghost. Lukas shivered at the idea of comparing Philip to a dead person; he firmly believed the Philip was alive and healthy, and that it would only be a matter of time before he came back home.
Philip had lost all sense of time while Ryan was acutely aware of it. Three weeks to the day, and Ryan hadn't done what he thought he would have. Killing Philip would've taken care of Waldenbeck- unless he was wrong about the kid, and Ryan rarely was, then there'd be no way Waldenbeck would 'fess up to anything. Ryan shook his head. He'd give this whole fugitive road trip thing one more week, and if by the end of it, still couldn't bring himself to kill Philip, then - well, it's a good thing he always had a plan B.
Kane had dropped his cabin theory- it was driving him mad, and his only methods of release weren't exactly what he wanted for Philip. He would have to accept that the Viscovis had simply found the cabin one night and decided to use it as a murder sight, clean it up, and boom, no more issue concerning that fucking cabin.
Philip's head was tilted against his window. Philip had fallen asleep, and Ryan couldn't say he blamed the kid. After all, they had started in New York and worked their way down the coast, and now they were headed back. This would be Kane's final test- if they both made it to New York, one of them would have to go for good.
Kane turned his head as he heard Philip mutter something in his sleep. Philip's mutters made less sense than those hashtags Kane had used to find the boy.
Philip was softly saying what Ryan heard as "I bet Rick Annerton woul' like me" and "roses are dumb".
The week went by without much incident. Kane's son seemed to be preoccupied with whatever was in his own head, which meant Kane could rest easy that Philip wouldn't blab about anything that had happened to him recently; however, he was worried about what could potentially happen if/when those floodgates failed.
Kane was placated when Philip could openly speak about basic things like the weather, food, the color of their cars and motel room wallpapers. At least he didn't leave the kid mute. When they reached New York City, Ryan ditched the car and their meager belongings in an alleyway. He rushed Philip to the apartment, but Philip appeared almost as confused when he had first officially met his father.
"I don't get it," he said, staring directly at the worn yellow couch before him. "Is this like your house or something? If it is, we just wasted a lot of time getting here."
Ryan nearly cried. "Philip, you're home." Oh, fuck, I should've just shot him when I had the chance.
Ryan patted the couch's seat, motioning for Philip to sit with him. Over the course of an hour, he once more spoke of Anne and memories of Philip he'd witnessed through the internet. When he finished his speech, he placed a train ticket and anonymous prepaid cell phone into his son's hands and gave him specific instructions.
"You know where to find me," Kane concluded, giving Philip a brief hug before walking away, not turning back once.
Once Ryan had departed, it was almost like a fog lifted from Philip's mind. He stood up, startled to discover that he was actually at his house. When he checked the phone, it told him what his nightmares had confirmed- he'd been missing from Tivoli for over a month. Philip broke into a run, desperate to reach the train, knowing that his mother would still be in rehab and it would be best for Philip to get to Tivoli. They had promised each other they would get better, Philip thought as he rushed down the crowded streets, and better meant her in rehabilitation and him in foster care.
The train ride back home caused a surge in his brain, a wave of memory so powerful he almost hit his head on the seat in front of him. It took forever, but by the time he had reached the sign announcing his arrival in Tivoli, Philip remembered why the canoes mattered and who is unknown savior was. He wanted to cry, but for once his ducts were dry.
Stumbling onto the main street, Philip made his way towards the familiar Sheriff's station, ready to see his family.
It was odd to walk down the empty road, the stillness of the atmosphere more disturbing than the silent rides trapped in cars with Kane. Tivoli generally seemed quiet, especially since Philip had grown up in New York, but it was eerily empty. Philip, in addition to recalling his memories, had to remember to breathe in deeply and exhale.
True, it was a work day, and people would still be in their offices or in school, so the silence made sense. What Philip couldn't understand was the somberness of the place- the graved mood transfixed the town for undisclosed reasons. Had there been a funeral?
Each building he passed jogged bits and pieces of his memory. Philip saw the corner store where he had met Lukas after a rough day with his new foster family, he caught a glimpse of the antique dealer where Lukas had bought the Polaroid and met Philip's mom, but what caught his gaze the most was a newspaper clipping taped to an office window. As if hypnotized, Philip approached the window yet remained a safe distance away from the building's entrance.
The headline read, 'Tivoli native forfeits chance at New York State motocross fame' with a picture of Lukas popping a wheelie on his bike. Philip's frown deepened as his brow furrowed in confusion. He had yet to recollect all of what he knew about Lukas, but what he knew for certain was that the love the blond had for his bike was something that was unbreakable, that the tracks were his way out of the small town, so why had he backed out of the championships?
To the bottom right of the photo, a small vertical rectangle had the words, 'Unrelenting search for missing teen continues'. Philip's legs violently shook beneath him and breathing was becoming impossible. He closed his eyes, imagining the soothing sounds of a downpour of water from the heavens, counted to ten, and opened his eyes. He felt as if someone had physically impaled his brain and crammed it with all of his missing memories. Still frames and videos poured into his mind of all he had only dreamed of during the past month.
Philip turned away from the store and his original destination. He broke into a sprint towards his foster parents house on instinct. Thoughts of Helen, Gabe, and Lukas were mostly centered around that house in his mind, and he longed to see them again. Philip could picture Gabe at the breakfast table, listening to him talk about Billy's fatal though not deadly overdose. He visualized Helen bringing Chinese food and trusting him about what Lukas had told him in confidence. He saw the barn's loft where he used to sit alone before he had met his White Knight.
Out of breath, Philip paused a few yards away from the house's door. Both Helen's Jeep and Gabe's pickup were parked outside, but there were no longer signs of outdoor dinners on the porch, and what few plants they had withered away. Do I knock? Philip asked himself as he approached, his stomach queasy with the sudden thought of 'what if they don't want me anymore?'
Gabe thought he heard a faint knock on the front door, but maybe it was just Lukas closing his door in the bedroom downstairs. Gabe went slowly down the stairs anyway, like he had done hundreds of times since Philip had gone missing and there had been little sounds outside. Not wanting to get their hopes up, Gabe had left Helen resting in their bed and didn't go near the boy's room.
Opening the door, Gabe's voice got caught in his throat. His vision blurred as tears streaked down his face. The teenager outside looked more like the Philip he and his wife had originally met in Queens; his face unconsciously overwhelmed in guilty anguish, his faded t-shirt unwashed, his jeans with large holes in them, and the boy himself oblivious to it all.
"Philip?" Gabe finally choked out.
Philip nodded, his eyes doing their job properly now. "It's great to be back home." Philip stepped in the doorway to crush Gabe in a hug.
Hearing the commotion, Lukas left his room. "Wha-" he began to ask, his initial question being about Gabe's health before he saw Philip. The brunet heard Lukas's voice, but it sounded foreign. There was no trace of the usual playful smile, in fact, Lukas's speech sounded automatic, like his bike when it started and would run at a steady hum.
Gabe gently released himself from his foster son's embrace. Turning first to lock the door, then towards the stairs, he said, "You two look out for each other while I get Helen."
As Gabe ascended to his bedroom, Lukas stood rooted in place, staring at Philip.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer." Philip repeated the first sentence Lukas had ever spoken to him, hoping it would jog something in Lukas's mind as well. That's another reason Philip had been anxious about returning to Helen and Gabe's- even if they still wanted him, would Lukas?
"You're an idiot," Lukas shook his head with a hint of a smile, eyes watering.
Philip walked closer to Lukas. "Am I still your idiot?" he could hear his heart rapidly pounding in his chest. After all he'd been through the past month, and thinking there'd be no way out, the only thought he had concerning the loved ones in his life were, 'I hope they know, and feel the same'.
Lukas placed his hands on Philip's shoulders, shocked that Philip was indeed solid and not a mere apparition. Lukas leaned forward and tentatively placed a kiss on Philip's forehead before kissing his lips. Lukas quickly pulled back, checking to see if Philip was okay.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Philip smiled for the first time in weeks. The boys turned as they heard two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs.
Helen was frozen in place, her hands over her mouth, Gabe held on to her to keep her from falling.
After Helen too, had joined the hug-fest, they all decided it would be best for Philip to shower and rest before he gave a full explanation of his whereabouts. Philip did tell Helen that he had no idea where Ryan was, and once Philip was in the shower Helen immediately called Tony to tell him the wonderful news. Tony once more got to liaise and speak in acronyms after notifying Anne's rehab, and asked if he was allowed to come over once his work was finished. Helen warned her partner that it would be a long day of work, most likely up to a week before everything would be filed away properly, but yes, Tony could visit once Philip felt better.
When Philip followed Lukas into his room, he was surprised to see that Lukas had moved in. "It was only for a bit, until you got back," Lukas rushed. "They told me I could stay here and-"
Philip gently kissed Lukas instead of saying 'shut up'. "Don't apologize," Philip said, looking right at his boyfriend. "I'm gonna stay here, and if you want, you can stay too."
Not one to normally blush, Philip could feel his cheeks burning as he gave Lukas a sly smile.
While Philip got ready to shower, he had a strange feeling he was missing something, this time more physical than mental. The flip phone the killer had given to him was no longer in any of his pockets. Good riddance, Philip thought as he stepped under the warm water. He stayed in the shower until the water made him shiver and lose feeling of his legs. He took his time getting dressed, and his old sweatpants needed the waistband rolled over a couple times, Philip not realising until then how much weight his skinny frame had lost. Pulling on a t-shirt and grabbing his hoodie after tossing his old clothes in the trash, Philip made his way into the living room to find his family gathered around the TV with plates of food on the small table.
"Since when did you guys watch cartoons?" Philip asked as he sat down, startling them. In addition to neglecting his appearance, Philip hadn't noticed how he could now move around barely making any noise. He wondered what else had been programmed into him and shuddered.
"Here," Helen passed him a blanket and a plate. With a smile, she said, "I didn't cook. You're welcome."
Philip laughed when he saw what they were eating for dinner. "Thanks, Helen."
"What about me?" Gabe asked. "Don't I get some credit?"
"They're great pancakes," Philip told Gabe. "It's been a while since I've eaten cooked food. I really appreciate this," he looked around the room to each of his family members with gratitude. There was a pause in the casual atmosphere, punctuated by cartoon dialogue, before Philip realised what he said. He was going to add, 'it's not a big deal', but figuring that would make things worse, simply asked if they could change the channel.
After dinner, Philip had stayed in the living room with Helen to give her an official statement, neither of them wanting to go to the station at night. Philip acted as though he was in a trance, staring off into space and speaking with little emotion in his voice while he recounted all he could remember from the moment he was taken near the school. Helen let Philip speak and only interrupted him a few times to ask for clarification about things Philip was being vague about, like where exactly they were and what Kane had said.
"I'm not sure what he wanted," Philip said, looking at his foster mom. "At first I thought he was going to kill me, like he was going to in the cabin, but then he kept dragging me around the East Coast and days turned into weeks and everything became...fuzzy, I guess is the word for it."
He didn't mention how Ryan had spent an entire week trying to convince Philip of his identity- the horrors he had to endure were suppressed yet he was aware of them, and speaking would make them real, something he fervently didn't want to happen.
Once Helen had written up the statement hours later on the official Sheriff department stationary and had Philip sign it, she gave him another hug. With tears in her eyes, she said, "Philip, I'm so sorry I couldn't keep you safe. I-"
Philip, his head on her shoulder, cut her off. "It's not your fault," he gulped, finding that his emotions had returned now that he was at long last free from the killer. "I'm the one to blame for this. All the guilt is mine."
Helen's hands remained on Philip's shoulders. "What the hell are you saying? No, don't answer me." Staring into his eyes, searching his soul, she could tell what had originally drawn them together- their unyielding insistence of personal responsibility for things they had no control over.
"Try to get some sleep, okay?" Helen softly said, not wanting to entrap them both into a long conversation about guilt. Philip didn't need that, especially after all he had been through. She placed a kiss on his forehead. "Welcome back home. If you need anything, you know where to find us."
"Thank you. For everything," Philip told Helen before he walked down the hall to his bedroom.
That night, although the entire household was buzzing with nervous energy, everyone managed to sleep soundly, if only for a couple hours. Helen and Gabe lay on their bed, unable to sleep at first for the fear that they were in some sort of shared daydream. Philip had difficulty believing what he saw, as well.
Lukas was tossing and turning in bed, his mind racing and heart beating rapidly yet out of sync, causing the boy to panic. He was in the bedroom that he had been in for the past few days, which had once been - no, had always been - Philip's, and he was conflicted to the point of his usual irrationality. Lukas tried to slow his breathing, to stop his mind from thinking, but to no avail.
A small knock, and then, "Lukas?" before the door was opened. Lukas sat up, glancing first at his phone for the time (2:17 am) and then at the brunet boy who had walked in. Philip turned on the room's small lamp, casting its dim light over the bed so that the boys could see each other and not much else.
"Hey," Lukas awkwardly responded as Philip sat down next to him.
"You okay?" Philip's face wrinkled in concern as he looked at his boyfriend.
Lukas wanted to laugh. Was this guy really so selfless, or just unaware of reality? "You for real?"
"What do you mean?"
"Let's not play that game where we answer every question with a question," Lukas stared straight at Philip, the need to care for him plain across his face. "You've been gone for a month, Philip," Lukas choked on his own words, "stuck with," Lukas shook his head, unable to finish that sentence. "And you're asking me if I'm okay?" Lukas pulled Philip into a hug. "You really are my idiot."
"I'm sorry, Lukas. It's my fault, this whole mess is all my fault." The anguish was clear in the broken boy's voice.
"I'm the one that let you get off the bike," Lukas replied, starting up the guilt trip.
Philip rolled onto his back, taking Lukas down with him. "You wanna play the blame game, I was the one who tried to kiss you-"
Philip's lips were met gently by Lukas's. "Never apologise for that," he said before kissing his boyfriend again, less delicately than before. "We can try and forget everything that happened, but being with you is something I never want to let go of."
Looking up at Lukas, overcome with emotion, Philip said "I love you, Lukas." He startled himself and the boy on top of him with that comment, yet didn't regret it. Lukas's face broke out into a grin. "I love you too," he replied, sealing his statement with a kiss.