Sticky Wicket
"What the fuck's this shit Salem?"
Salem looked up from stuffing clothes into his beat up black duffle bag. Rios was standing just outside of the bathroom door with a black toiletries bag in his left hand, and lying across his right were six or seven syringes and several small medicinal vials.
"What the fuck'r doin' in my shit? Gimme that!" Salem snapped making it across to the larger man in ten quick paces.
Rios snatched his hand away, and took a step forward so that Salem could not trap him in the small space.
"Our bags are the same, Salem. Have been for years; I just grabbed the wrong one. I've done it dozens of times. Now answer my question; what the fuck is this shit?"
"What it is, is mine ass hole, now gimme it."
"Fuck you Salem! Steroids, seriously. Who got you this shit? How long've you been doing it? I'll fucking kill the son of a bitch." Rios bellowed.
"None a your god damned business. Now put it back, and just hand it over; hear me?"
"No."
"Rios, do not push me bro. Gimme it."
"Why because you might have Roid rage? Hunh is that why? Blow a fuse; kick my ass. Fuck you Salem; this shit is poison, Kermit. Poison plain and fucking simple."
"Not if you're careful."
"Careful? There is no careful, Salem. Your fuse is short enough as it is, man. Christ almighty, Elliot. This does explain a hell of lot though. God I am a fucking moron sometimes. I knew some fucking thing was going on with you."
Rios tossed the bag at Salem's head, by way of distraction, and made for the kitchen still clutching the syringes and vials. Salem followed, snatched his left shoulder, and spun him back around.
"Rios I am fucking warning you. Give-me-my shit."
Despite understanding Elliot's need to be larger, Rios was furious with him. He'd always struggled with his physical stature. Not just due to the hazing of the men, but also because it did impede his ability a bit. He had to work five times as hard to pull his weight, and that extra effort took a harsh toll on the man. He'd noticed that the Salem had begun to bulk up somewhat over the course of the last few months, but he'd attributed it Salem maturing. It was just as Gabe Benedict had predicted the first day Rios had met Salem nearly three years ago, 'He's young he'll grow.' The younger man was also eating better than he'd ever had when they were regular Army; near double, and Rios knew that kind of dietary change combined with the fitness shakes he was consuming could add muscle and bulk rapidly. On top of that Salem had also been working out heavily now that they had more free time working for SSC. Steroids though, they were strictly off limits in Rios' book. Especially for Elliot. The man was already edgy enough, and Tyson could recall several recent incidents where Salem had come unglued that were probably due to the man's new self-medicating.
"You do not need this shit Elliot. Trust me man it is bad news."
"Just hand it over. I have a doctor. It's not like I bought it on a street corner you stupid fucker. Now gimme it, it's mine."
"This shit's going down the garbage disposal, and until your systems clean, we are done. I won't work with anybody who's taking this stuff. Nobody, and that includes you."
Rios continued to the kitchen with Salem in tow. At the sink he smashed the vials down into the drain, and smacked upwards the faucet lever to turn on the water. With Salem dragging at his left arm, Rios flipped the disposal's switch with his right hand, pushed the smaller man back roughly, and followed the shove with a nasty left backhand to Elliot's face; effectively sitting him on his ass, on the gray tiled kitchen floor three feet away. The medication flushed down the drain to the sound of glass crunching in the devices blades.
Rios spun round, and loomed over a stunned Salem. He pointed at him, and snarled viciously, "Stay the fuck down, Salem. I am pissed off right now beyond belief; so unless you want me to beat your skinny, fucking ass from one end of this apartment to the other just stay the hell away from me until I settle down."
Rios stepped over the fallen man, and moved toward the trash compactor. Opening the door he shoved the syringes in, and stabbed at the machine's on button. Once it quit working he turned, and went back into the bathroom to continue packing for the up-coming weekend of in house training at SSC HQ.
Salem knew enough to heed Tyson's warning. The steroids were gone so there was no reason to continue the fight now. They needed to be at SSC at 0900 for a briefing, and time was now running short. He stood up, spit into the sink, and rinsed the blood from his split lips down the drain watching the water swirl away along the same path as his drugs. He'd just have to get to his source, and replace them as soon as possible. No, he then thought, that wasn't the way. He'd just have to convince Tyson that he needed the stuff to get bigger, and they could go to a real doctor together. He spit again slapped off the faucet, and returned to the bedroom to continue packing.
The duo completed packing in silence. Rios' only concession to his fury was handing Salem the thrown black toiletries bag. The smaller man snatched it from his huge hand, and pressed passed him into the bathroom to gather his supplies. Rios shrugged the slight off, and crossed to the closet to get into their gun safe. He removed, and packed his weapons then set Elliot's aside. Then he went to the front door, and with a sigh started out.
"Don't be too long Salem. Yarborough will be pissed if you're late, and I'm thinking you're in enough deep shit for today."
Down in the parking garage Rios looked up, and was surprised to see Salem moving rapidly across the space toward his already running truck. Rios groaned. He'd hoped to be gone by the time Elliot got down there. The younger man must have really sped up his preparations to catch up, which was in effect a bit of an apology. Tyson was undeterred though. He watched Salem toss the duffle bag of clothes into the truck's bed, and head for the passenger side door. When he opened it Rio looked at him, and shook his head.
"What the fuck'r you doin'?"
Salem stared at him across the cab wide eyed and stunned. They always rode in together unless one or the other of them had extra duties or personal concerns do deal with.
"I told you, dick face; I do not work with assholes who use that shit. Now get your gear outta my truck, and get out of my face. When that shit's cleared from your system come see me, Salem. No move your little bitch ass. I'm gonna be late."
Salem staggered back a step. The vehemence in Rios' voice was scathing. He'd really thought that once Tyson calmed down they could settle the issue. Maybe even see the company doctor, and get the steroids legitimately. But this, this was simply unbelievable. Tyson had handed him his bag, and set out his weapons didn't that mean he'd been forgiven at least a little bit. He'd hurried up too, to make up the lost time, and now here they were, and Tyson was still punishing him. He backed away, and reaching into the truck bed grabbed his gear then slammed the door shut; he had barely enough time to step clear when Rios gunned the big black Ford forward, roaring out of the underground garage with squealing tires.