Author Notes: This fic is Grittyverse, introduced by Paperspot, but more of a Grittyfluff, if you will. Based off cleversnail's devilish headcanon, Mooseing's lovely and horrifying fic (post/84227225374/you-deserve-this-summary-grittyverse-based-off), and my ridiculous inability to not associate anything from the 80's with a certain blue little astronaut.

You should probably read mooseings' fic (link above; just add mooseings dot tumblr dot com / to the beginning) to understand what's going on here. The idea, to put it simply, is that Bad Cop is triggered by certain music that was played while he was tortured.

The Pairings featured are Bad Cop/Benny and past Bad Business.

So, yeah, here's this long, drawn out thing I wrote about humanized lego people. Enjoy. :)

It'd been a rough day. Aside from a fairly grueling morning managing interns and paperwork and having to check in with the department psychologist, Bad Cop's shoulder ached from being slammed into a wall a little too hard, and he was walking with a slight limp on account of his leg being attacked with a 4x4. That was the last time he answered a "minor" domestic disturbance call by himself.

You idiot. You could have gotten yourself killed, and then where would we be? He snarled at himself. A few years ago it may not have mattered to him. Now it was all that mattered.

He had to be alive to see Ben after all.

He stopped outside of his apartment building and reached for a cigarette. Ben always nagged him about these things and how they were terrible for him, but Bad Cop had trouble quitting. He needed something to ease his nerves when he was alone.

He lit the cigarette and took a long drag on it, thinking that it was about time he made a real effort to quit. Ben was right; dying of lung cancer was no way for him to go. Besides, it really wasn't fair to Ben. He was just trying to look out for him, after all.

Bad Cop sighed. He'd gotten so much better than before, but he was still…broken. Damaged. He wondered sometimes if he'd ever be able to truly heal. His spine was twisted with permanent little knots and his body creaked with undue age and his mind was quite literally half gone.

Oh god.

That thought made him feel ill. He tried to put it out of his head, but it was a persistent hum, a background noise he couldn't shut out, like a demonic chant. He was alone in this burned out carcass. He reached for his scars and closed his eyes, breathing in too much.

Good Cop was gone. And he wasn't coming back.

Of all the things to think about, that was the subject he desired the least. He threw his cigarette on the ground and used the heel of his boot to grind it into the dirty, cracked concrete. He breathed in and out too hard, and his stomach turned. He bent over, letting his body shake and the ensuing panic attack pass through him.

He stood there for several minutes, keeled over, trembling. Pathetic. When it finally subsided, he braced himself against the wall and titled back his head. He slammed his fist into the bricks, over and over until the pain was bigger than anything else; his thoughts, the quivering in his limbs, everything wrong with the world. Everything wrong with him.

Great, now he was weak and shaky as well as sore. Just great.

He righted himself, still buzzing a bit, his hand on fire (though nothing seemed too damaged, thank the Man Upstairs), but he was well enough to walk up the stairway (goddamn they really need to fix the fucking elevator) with only a break or two,cross the hallway, fiddle with his keys, finally get the damn lock to turn, twist the knob with his trembling hand, and push open the door.

God, all he wanted to do was sleep. He didn't even think the uniform was gonna make it off tonight. Well, maybe the boots.

The apartment was dim, but there were lights on.Ben must be home. He smiled to himself and began kicking his boots off.

Saxophone music hit his ears out of nowhere. He froze, ice blooming from his chest and spreading all over his body.

"I feel so unsure, as I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor...~"

This music. This song. No, Jesus fucking Christ, no… He felt like all the air was gone. He couldn't breathe. He tried to breathe. He kept trying to breathe, where was all the fucking air?

His entire body was heavy, heavier than he could hold, but he just kept standing there, trembling and gasping, trying to crush it down.

It was happening already, he felt it in every inch of him, cold metal carving his skin in all the most vulnerable places, the smell of his blood filling his nose, his own screams shredding his eardrums while sweet soft music played and Lord Business hummed and sang along…

No no no no NO… No, he couldn't show weakness, he couldn't…he had to keep it together. He clenched his fists and set his jaw. It was fair. He must have screwed up. It was the only reason this would happen.

He struggled to keep his breathing slow and calm, but the previous panic attack had left him weakened and out of breath. He was swaying, the room was spinning. No, no, he had to stand still, had to stay on his feet…

He steeled himself, gritted his teeth. He managed to keep from falling down, readying himself for whatever was in store for him…

"B.?!" That voice was not Lord Business' voice. "Bad Cop!?"

The music clicked off. He could feel his knees give out beneath him.

A figure rushed towards him. His body tensed, still shaking.

"B., are you okay?"

The touch was soft, but not in the way Business' was. It held his weight, trying to support him as he fell to his knees. The person knelt down with him. Wild strawberry-blond hair, brilliant blue eyes laced with horror and distress. A sweet, open face, a face that somehow brought some of the air back into his chest.

"Ben." He gasped. "I'm…" he wanted to collapse on the floor and never get up again. "I'm alright…"

Benny nodded, clearly not believing him in the slightest. He reached out and grabbed Bad Cop's trembling fingers. Bad Cop gripped them, the only thing between him and drowning. Benny's other hand reached out to his back. He drew it away when Bad Cop flinched. "Breathe, B., breathe. Slow, full breaths, come on now…that's it…"

The terror was draining slowly, and being replaced with exhaustion and humiliation. Stupid, it was just…it was just music…

What had possessed him to play it? A spike of rage surged through him.

"Where did you get that?" he growled, as though it were a personal betrayal. Benny whimpered, and Bad Cop realized he was crushing his hand. He immediately released it, all but pushing it away. He pulled away from Benny, drawing closer to the wall. A wave of self loathing swept through him so swift and terrible it nearly knocked any breath he had gathered right out of his chest.

"I-I...forgive me…" He whispered. He looked up and caught a glimpse of Benny's confused and pained face and couldn't bear to look at it anymore.

Five years since he'd been like this. Five goddamn years. Like they were nothing. He curled up, his whole body shaking. He didn't know how much longer it would be before the rest of him hit the floor.

"B." That damn idiot had wandered over to him again. Like someone trying to save a wounded animal. He was only going to get bit.

"Stop." He snapped. Benny flinched a bit, but just kept coming.

"B." he repeated. "I'm fine. You're not." He reached out to him. "Come on. Let me help you to bed." He said softly.

An entire minute passed before his wavering fingers connected with Benny's. It was a small connection, but he felt much more stable, much more…grounded.

The shaking was terrible, making it all but impossible for him to stand on his own. Benny watched Bad Cop carefully, asking for permission to help him. To touch him. Bad Cop gave it, crawling a little closer to him. Benny pulled his arm over his shoulders and pulled him to his quaking, useless feet. He then led Bad Cop to his room, pulled back the covers, and laid him carefully on his bed.

Bad Cop shut his eyes as Benny took off his other shoe, then his socks. If there was one thing he never wanted in their relationship, it was to burden Benny with his problems. He was not the man he had been when he begun recovery, and he never wanted Benny to have to carry that man to his bed and lie down next to him. He set his jaw.

Benny pushed Bad Cop's legs under the covers and began unzipping his jacket. Bad Cop reached for his hands. "Ben." He said.

"Yeah, B.?" God, his eyes were so big and beautiful and kind…

He shut that thought out of his head. This was for his own good. "I think." He swallowed. He was pretty sure his eyes were watering. "I think you should go… home…for tonight."

Ben stopped. Bad Cop turned away, dreading his reaction.

For a moment, there was a stunned silence.

Then he gave Bad Cop's hands a squeeze. "Hell no."

Bad Cop didn't have a response for that. He forced himself to look Ben in the eyes again.

They hadn't really changed, but anger and protectiveness and resolve had found their way into them as well. His jaw was set too. He reached out slowly with one of his hands and ran it through Bad Cop's hair. "I need to be here." His grip tightened. "I want to be here, B."

Bad Cop really didn't know how to respond to that.

"Stop." He said finally. "I'm fine…I'll be fine…" The words wilted as soon as they were out of his mouth.

"Hey." Benny said. "It's not a big deal." He smiled. "There are worse reactions to 80's soft rock."

Bad Cop snorted. "Like what?"

Benny smiled became devious. "Oh, you really don't want to know."

It was stupid. It was all stupid. It was the best kind of stupid. Bad Cop managed a choked, raspy laugh.

Benny laughed too and cradled his face lovingly. "You're so wonderful."

Tears welled up in Bad Cop's eyes as those words ripped through his insides. God, he was in a bad state. He turned his head and clenched his teeth and gripped Benny's hand a little too tightly, before remembering how he had hurt him before. Hurt Benny. Ben. His precious Ben. He let go of his hand and pulled his own to his side.

Benny searched it out stubbornly and grabbed hold again. He giggled, leaned over, and kissed him, first on the head, then on the mouth.

He returned the kiss in spite of himself. It filled his insides with a soft, glowing warmth and his lips tasted perfectly sweet.

He knew Benny was tougher than he looked. He knew he could take care of himself. He just didn't want Benny to have to deal with him and his baggage too. It didn't matter what he was capable of. To ask that of him was unthinkable.

And he simply didn't know how to keep him from picking it up, every rotten, heavy bit of it, and carrying it alongside him. Because he would. He knew he would.

"Ben…" he began again, this time determined to make him leave.

"B." Benny said firmly. "I'm not going anywhere."

He wanted to argue. Wanted to yell and curse and throw things until the lovely man got far away from him and his toxic, dangerous touch. But he couldn't. He just couldn't. Besides, even if he could, he was too tired to try.

"Alright." He grunted. His voice was beginning to sound really weak. "Do what you want."

He was still shaking, but it was better. But he could feel himself slowly losing consciousness. The lead in his limbs.

He forced himself to move them, which resulted in a not very impressive shuffle and his aviators being knocked askew.

Benny put his hand gently on Bad Cop's chest. "Shhhhh…" He said, his voice all soft and sweet. "Lay down now, love. I'll take care of things."

After another stroke of his hair, Benny let go of his hand, and raised them both to his glasses. "May I?"

Benny had left them on. Bad Cop was more than grateful for that. He couldn't think of much worse to happen at this point than for Ben to watch him cry. He composed himself, waiting for his eyes to stop welling up, and nodded slowly.

Benny took them gingerly in his fingers and lifted them off. He folded them up and placed them carefully on the night stand. Bad Cop was suddenly aware of just how blue his eyes really were. Benny smiled. "There! Now I can see your beautiful face."

Good god, would he just quit already? The tears threatened to begin again. He squeezed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly.

Benny kissed his cheek. "It's okay, B. It's all going to be okay…"

He stepped back a bit and pushed his hands under Bad Cop's jacket, slipping it off with a deliberate, gentle motion. He took care when he came to Bad Cop's injured shoulder (when did he notice?). He ran his hands over Bad Cop's shoulders and arms and he eased the sleeves off of him. The whole process was awkward, in spite of Benny's effort, but he simply laughed, letting it take time, letting it be awkward. After a few minutes, the jacket was finally off and, soon after, on its way to the closet.

Bad Cop turned, watching Benny put his jacket away. He blinked. Was Benny wearing…lingerie?

Oh god, he was. Nestled beneath his tank top was shiny, metallic, retro-ish lingerie. With garters.

"The hell…?" he rasped.

Benny look confused, then glanced down. "Oh." He smiled sheepishly. "I…I, um…" His cheeks flushed. "I was kinda going for something sexy?" he shrugged, giving a nervous laugh. "I guess that didn't go so well..."

Bad Cop felt a pang of guilt. It was sweet and silly and spontaneous, just like Benny, and he'd completely ruined it.

Benny seemed to notice his change of mood. "Ah, it was dumb anyway." He said, turning to close the closet door. "And if you're up for it, we can do it some other time."

Bad Cop sighed. "Yeah…" This just got more humiliating by the second.

"Do you want me to get you something else to wear?" Benny asked, holding open the door.

Bad Cop thought about it, but, god, he was exhausted. Plus, the thought of Benny have to dress and undress him, like a babe, left him mortified. He sighed again, twisting the pillow case in his still quivering fingers. "Maybe just help me with my pants…"

Benny grinned and made an exaggeratedly seductive face. "Of course…let me get those for you…" he slunk over in a theatrical manner, sliding his hands down his hips.

Bad Cop managed a weak smile in spite of it all. "Stop it, you."

Mock hurt overtook Benny's face. "But I'm so…seeeexuallllyy appeeeaaallling." He drew out the words until they were all but ridiculous.

This time Bad Cop laughed, wheezing and coughing a bit, but it was, indeed, a laugh. He sort of wanted to tell him he was.

Benny laughed with him. "I suck at this anyway."

"Not really…" the words came out all on their own.

Benny smiled, shyness creeping in. "Oh…well…" he pulled at the edges of the silken fabric, his eyes to the floor. "If that's really how you feel…" He looked up at Bad Cop and smiled a little brighter. "We should…try this again…sometime. Sometime soon maybe?"

Bad Cop smiled. "I'd like that, Ben…"

Goddamn it, why'd he have to fuck this up? He began to shake, fighting back fury and tears. He gripped the pillow like his life depended on it.

Benny made his way over to the bed, leaned over, and kissed Bad Cop, right on the tip of the ear. "Hey." He whispered. "It's not a big deal. It's not your fault." He ran his fingers through Bad Cop's hair once more, stroking it softly. "It's not your fault, you've done nothing wrong..."

He kissed him again, on the ear, on the cheek, rubbing his arm and his back. Bad Cop stiffened a little, without thinking. He urged himself to relax, desperately hoping Benny wouldn't pull away again. Ben. This is Ben. He isn't going to hurt you, you goddamn idiot.

Benny didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned over further and hugged Bad Cop in an awkward sideways embrace. Bad Cop buried his face into the pillow.

"It's okay, B. It's okay…" he murmured, rocking back and forth a little. When he finally let go, he went about taking off Bad Cop's pants. He undid Bad Cop's belt and shoved it into a drawer, then unfastened his pants and eased them off, and hung them up with the jacket. Bad Cop just lay there, rigid and silent, avoiding Benny's eyes. He wasn't sure why it made him so uncomfortable; it wasn't as if it was the first time Benny had taken off his clothes. He supposed that it was different when they were making love. This made him feel like a hospice patient.

When Benny was finished with his task, he walked around to the other side of the bed and crawled in. Bad Cop heard him unclip the garters, slip off his socks and toss both aside, but nothing else.

"Leavin' that on?" Bad Cop muttered, keeping his back to him.

"Oh, yeah…" he could hear the smile in Benny's voice."They're actually really comfy, and I don't feel like changing…" he paused. "Do you mind?"

"No." Bad Cop grunted, desperately trying to shut out thoughts of Benny in silky lingerie lying next to him. Exhaustion and physical pain and traces of panic and a heaping dose of self-disgust were all actually pretty helpful with killing that mental imagery.

Benny snuggled into the covers and the duvet, making a little nest. He stopped suddenly, his breathing not restful, and Bad Cop was concerned. He rolled over, a little laboriously, and shot a worried glance his way. "What is it?"

"Um…" Benny seemed really uncomfortable all of a sudden. "Do you mind if I sleep…closer…to you?" Like usual?

Bad Cop wasn't sure if it was what he was wearing, or who he was suddenly sleeping next to that warranted that question; the shaking, crying, whimpering fool who stiffened at friendly touch. Bad Cop was pretty sure it was the latter, and he wanted to wring that man's neck. Of course, seeing as it was his own neck, it proved to be a rather difficult urge to satisfy.

"Of course." He said. His voice was more irritable and sour that he wanted it to be.

"Oh, ok. Great!" Benny smiled again, his shining face making Bad Cop's insides melt. He snuggled closer to him, yawning and moaning sleepily. Benny's body didn't drape all over him as customary, but he curled into him, snuggling happily against his chest and legs, the silken underwear a pleasant sensation against his skin. Bad Cop wanted to hold him and pull him in tight. But he didn't dare.

He gently pushed Benny's body away from him, just a little, and rolled over again, his back to him.

"G'night." Bad Cop muttered, shutting off the light. He listened to the sound of them breathe, trying to shut out the sensation of Benny stiffening, seemingly at a loss at the prior gesture his partner had made.

He eventually pressed his back cautiously against Bad Cop's, pulling all the blankets towards him. "Goodnight…"

He sounded crestfallen. Bad Cop pulled one of his arms around himself and squeezed until it hurt. It was for his own good.

Some time passed. Bad Cop was worn out, but he didn't really sleep. His thoughts were abrasive and quite tireless.

What if he was becoming a burden, or wasn't safe to be around anymore? What if this happened again? Damn it, music was pretty prevalent, well, everywhere, and those kinds of songs were not entirely uncommon. Why hadn't it come up before? Because you avoid places that play music like the plague, moron. Hard to hear someone sneak up behind you over music. Oh, right…

Bad Cop gripped the pillow in his other hand. It was like Business knew, like he knew that Benny was going to be in Bad Cop's life. Like he was still trying to control Bad Cop when they weren't even in each other's lives anymore.

Oh god, what if Bad Cop hadn't changed at all? What if, underneath all the softening and the therapy and the "healing" was still the same man, waiting for the right moment to take over again?

What if, at his core, he was just as much of a monster as he always had been?

That thought was like a kick to the stomach.

Benny should really start keeping his distance. He thought, trembling, feeling his pillow get a little wet. Who knows what could happen? Who knows what could be lurking just beneath the surface…

Benny pressed his back closer to Bad Cop's, trying not to disturb him. He felt him shaking still. He really wasn't supposed to be shaking still.

It felt like the inside of Benny's chest was bruised. He could feel it ache.

Stupid. It was stupid. He was supposed to know all of Bad Cop's triggers. He was supposed to make things safe for him.

They didn't talk about Bad Cop's past, or his feelings, or even what he wanted. Benny didn't poke or pry. He let Bad Cop tell him, at his own pace, in his own time. It was what he needed, and Benny was happy to oblige. It was supposed to be enough.

Now, don't you start. He said to himself. That was a very specific trigger, and he never mentioned it. It could have even been to just that song…why the hell did you even play it? God, you don't even like that song! And it's not really romantic in the way you wanted, and it's not sexy…damn it…

He squeezed his pillow and tried to shut his eyes, but he didn't much feel like sleeping.

What was he going to do? Bad Cop was shaken to his core. He was flinching at Benny's soft touch.

Tears welled up before he could quiet them. What happened to him? What had to happen to a person to make them fear being touched?

But he knew. Well, he didn't know exactly, but he really didn't have to. He had an idea, and it made him…angry.

Very, very angry.

Benny was wide awake now, feeling the restless, unwell energy flowing through him until he shook.

He didn't know what he was going to do, but he knew he had to do something. He squished his pillow, hugging it to his body, his hands beneath it twisting into fists.

He was going to do something, alright. Just as soon as he figured out what that something was going to be.