This is my longest chapter yet, and likely the longest one of the story. I thought about breaking it up into two chapters, but what use is there in that? Let's just start picking up the pace in posting this thing and getting it all out there so we can be done with it, right? I really hope you like this chapter. Here you go:
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Chapter11
Tommy laughed as they pulled up to what looked like an old chapel, "are you guys really cops?" he wondered, "I've been arrested before, and this isn't the police station. You gonna murder us or something?"
"We aren't like the other cops who you've dealt with," Ioki turned around and looked at the McQuaids, "We work undercover at schools, because we look young enough to be high school kids. So we're a different division than the cops who arrested you last time."
Tommy glared at him, "well, isn't that special?" he mocked.
Ioki laughed, "it is, kind of. I really like working here."
Scoffing, Tommy looked away and stared at the window at nothing in particular, "are we gettin' out or what?" The car wasn't a standard police car, but it functioned like one. He couldn't open the back door from the inside. And he didn't feel like sitting and waiting around forever. They might as well just get this over with.
"Just a second," Judy called back.
Ioki got out first and opened Doug's door, grabbing his arm and helping him out. Tommy looked over at him. He wished his brother wasn't drunk. It was making this ordeal much more frustrating and much more nerve racking than it had to be. If both brothers were in their right minds, this would be simple. They'd refuse to talk; they'd go home; their dad would smack them around... Then it would be done. But Tommy didn't know how it was going to go down this time.
He turned back toward his own door as Judy opened it. He climbed out and stood next to her, glaring at her, just daring her to try to grab onto his arm again.
She must have known better, because she allowed him to walk himself into the chapel. She was lucky he wasn't planning on trying to run off. He wondered how often she let criminals get away just because she was too nice. Or maybe she could somehow judge who was a real threat and who wasn't. Did this mean Tommy didn't seem at all threatening. He frowned. That wasn't what he had intended. Of course, he didn't want to be handcuffed and manhandled either.
Judy and Ioki led them inside and straight into a small room with bars instead of walls over most of it. It looked like a police station that some kids decided to make out of whatever resources they could find; not nearly as formal and scary as the police station he was used to.
Normal holding cells also had other prisoners. This one did not. Tommy figured these people must not have worked as hard as normal cops. Did they ever accomplish anything besides getting drug dealers in trouble for a minute? Tommy and Doug were going to keep selling drugs after this. Judy and Ioki had to know that... So what was the point of all this?
Judy was sitting at a desk across the room now. Ioki stood behind her. It looked like she was talking to someone on the phone, but Tommy couldn't hear what she was saying. There weren't any other cops in the building, but there were a few more desks, so there had to be others that worked there sometimes.
He turned around and looked at his older brother, who was lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. He hoped Doug would be closer to sober before their dad saw them next. He'd be angry already, and would be even more angry when he saw Doug if he was wasted.
Tommy felt nervous. He walked over to the bars, gripping them with his hands and looking over toward the two cops, "you guys aren't calling our dad, are you?" he asked, unable to keep the worry out of his tone.
Judy ignored him and continued talking into the phone too quietly for him to hear anything she was saying.
"Are you?" Tommy was beginning to actually sound frantic, "who are you talking to?" he called out. He was still ignored, "who's on the phone?" he practically yelled, grabbing the bars and squeezing them uselessly.
Ioki looked at him now, "shh," he ordered, "it's not your dad. We're calling our captain. So just relax."
Tommy scowled at him. Then he looked back down at his brother. Squatting next to him, he grabbed his chin in his hand and turned his face so that he was looking at Tommy, "Doug," he said, speaking slowly and clearly so his brother wouldn't miss anything, "you know how we have a lot of secrets?"
Doug nodded, "Yeah."
"You need to make sure to not talk about any of them. These people are cops. If you tell them anything about where we got the drugs, or about dad, we're going to be in a lot of trouble," Tommy reminded him, "understand?"
Doug laughed, offering his crooked smile again, "yeah," he answered.
"Just don't say anything at all," Tommy instructed, "don't say anything to anyone."
"Okay," Doug agreed.
Tommy sighed. He hoped Doug could remember that.
"Our captain's going to be here in a few minutes," Judy informed them as she walked over to the bars, "do you want us to call someone for you? Or we could let you call them yourself."
Tommy shook his head, "no."
"We're going to have to call your dad eventually. We can't just arrest teenagers and not tell their parents," Ioki added as he walked up beside his partner.
"Well, can we please put that off as long as possible?" Tommy asked, frowning.
"We'll wait," Judy offered, glancing over at Ioki for a moment and then looking back at Tommy, "but I don't know for how long. We can't put it off forever. He's going to have to be informed eventually."
"The longer we wait, the better," Tommy closed his eyes and pressed his forehead up against the cool bars.
"Ioki," he heard Judy address her partner, "could you go make us some coffee? I'd like to talk to Tommy alone for a minute."
"Sure," Ioki's voice responded.
Tommy opened his eyes, "what do you want?" he sighed.
"In our department we are more concerned with helping kids than getting them in trouble," she started, "we didn't bring you here just to make your lives more miserable. You have to realize that doing drugs isn't healthy, and associating with people who buy or sell them can be really dangerous. Even if you aren't actually doing the drugs yourself, it's not a safe hobby to pursue. We can't let you keep using them or selling them. It's irresponsible."
Tommy rolled his eyes, "okay..."
"But we didn't bring you here just to give you a fine and send you on your way. We're trying to help you and your brother, and we're worried about more than just drugs," she added, "I'm not the only one who's noticed that you guys look beat up all the time."
"We get into fights," Tommy explained, "with other students, and each other. You know our reputation. What's so surprising about that?"
Judy sighed loudly. She seemed like she was getting very tired of listening to him. Yet she continued talking, "I don't know what types of fights you get into, but I haven't seen many wrists that look like yours and his," she gestured toward Doug, "except on murder victims, rape victims, and victims of kidnappings. You know, people who would have been tied up for some reason," she raised her eyebrows and waited for him to try to offer some sort of explanation.
Tommy scowled, taking his hands down from the bars they were clutching and pulling his sleeves over his wrists, "well, we obviously haven't been murdered or kidnapped. And we haven't been raped. I assure you of that."
"So why do your wrists look like someone tied them up?" she asked, "if you guys don't tell us, we're just going to assume the worst. We're not trying to bully you. We want to help you. It sure looks like someone is hurting you, and it looks one-sided. If you're getting into fights at school where someone is tying your hands up, I don't think you're going to win."
He glared at her, "Well, I'm sorry to tell you that I don't make notes on every scratch and bruise I ever get. I don't know where each one came from. We get into fights. That's it. That's the only answer you'll get, because that's all there is to say. We don't need any help."
The both turned their attention toward someone new who was walking into the room. Tommy's heart sank when he saw that it was Mr. Morris, the substitute teacher who had been weaseling his way into their lives over the past week. He hadn't been too fond of the man at first, and this sure as hell wasn't making it any better.
"Woah!" Tommy heard Doug's voice behind him. Doug grabbed onto his little brother's arm and pulled himself to his feet, "Mr. Morris! You bailing us out. man?" he laughed.
Tommy elbowed him in the ribs, "he's a cop too," he muttered, catching on much faster than his drunk older brother.
Morris walked up to the bars and held up his badge to show them he really was a cop, "Captain Adam Fuller," he introduced himself. He turned toward Judy and Ioki, "Hoffs, Ioki, have you called their dad?"
"They want to wait a little while longer. Doug's pretty drunk and they don't want their father to see him like this," Judy told him. She seemed nervous, like she wasn't sure her captain would be willing to play along with waiting to call the man, "I don't think it will hurt anything to wait a little while..." she added, biting her lip as though she had just requested something very important from a king who would likely deny her request.
Fuller nodded, "we can wait a bit longer. I wouldn't want their father seeing him like this either," Judy actually breathed out a sigh of relief as he said this. The captain narrowed his eyes as he looked back toward Doug and Tommy, "We know your drug supplier is someone at that party. There are cops back at the house questioning and searching everyone there. If you tell us who it is, it can make our job easier, and we'll go easier on you in consideration of your cooperation. We're going to find whoever it is eventually, and we won't tell them it was you who told us. They'll just think we checked everyone and found them on our own. There are no negative consequences that would be a result of you coming forward with a name."
"I know who it is," Doug said from behind Tommy.
"Shut up," Tommy elbowed him in the ribs again, but kept his eyes on Fuller.
"I understand that you don't want to betray this person," the police captian explained, "but you have to realize that we are not going to allow drugs to keep circulating around your school. We don't allow drugs anywhere, and we certainly won't make that exception to a bunch of teenagers."
"I don't expect you to," Tommy informed him, "but I'm not doing your job for you either. You want to find out who's selling us drugs, then find out. That's what they pay you for, isn't it?"
Fuller laughed, but he didn't look amused, "fair enough. Looks like we've got nothing to talk about then... You want us to call your dad for you?"
Tommy held his breath and felt his heart rate increase, "yeah. Go ahead and call him," he set his mouth in a straight line. If this guy wanted to play it that way, then he'd let him. He wasn't a narc, and if he had to get beaten up for it, then he would.
...
Fuller felt like he was in a staring contest with this kid. He had threatened to call his dad, but he wasn't going to. He wasn't stupid. He had worked with kids who were being abused. He had worked with tons of them. Recognizing the signs was easy, and these boys were obvious abuse victims.
They seemed scared of their father and had bruises that were not consistent with those they would have gotten from regular school-yard fights. They also seemed incredibly defensive whenever confronted about it. He hoped he could get them to accept help, because getting them away from the man without their cooperation was going to be next to impossible.
Dealing with abuse victims who did not want his help was nothing new to him. It was sometimes difficult and always frustrating, but he always worked as hard as he could to get them to see there was no good reason to stay with someone who was hurting them.
"Could I talk to you alone for a minute?" he asked the boy.
Tommy shook his head, "no," he scowled.
"Come on," Fuller said, "I can't make you talk, but you're at least going to listen," he opened the door to the cell and reached toward the boy's shoulder so he could lead him into the other room.
Tommy flinched away, "just lead the way," he suggested, "I'll follow you."
Fuller nodded, easily accepting this. If the kid didn't want to be touched, that was fine.
He led Tommy into a room they used for interrogations, holding the door open for him and closing it behind them.
"Have a seat," he offered, noting that Tommy wouldn't sit down until Fuller did as well. He looked over at the boy, who stared back at him angrily. But he could see a tint of fear in his eyes as well.
"What's the plan, Coach?" Tommy glared at him, folding his arms over his chest and swinging his feet up onto the table.
Fuller frowned. He could see that Tommy was putting up a front, trying to look tough and brave, but knew the boy must have been terrified on the inside, "I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen," Fuller offered, "And I'm going to ask you some questions that I hope you'll answer."
"Can't make any promises on either of those," Tommy raised his eyebrows and stared.
"I've dealt with a lot of boys just like you," Fuller started, folding his hands on the table between them, "boys who have run their lives into a corner and feel like there's no way out. It's not too late for you to turn things around, and no matter what you think is standing in your way, I can almost guarantee you're wrong."
Tommy just stared at him. He looked like he thought Fuller was a clueless idiot, but he didn't speak up to argue or to contradict him.
"My officers and I really want to help you and your brother. We're trying our hardest, but no matter how hard we try, we can't really do anything if you won't let us," Fuller explained, "In class, I saw marks on you and your brother. Marks that were very disturbing, and that didn't look at all accidental." He looked down at Tommy's wrists.
Tommy furrowed his brow and looked down at his own wrists as well, quickly pulling his sleeves down so that they covered most of his hands.
Fuller continued. He hadn't asked Tommy any actual questions yet, because he knew the boy wouldn't answer them. So for now, he settled on just laying out everything he already knew without any real input from the younger McQuaid brother, "Your brother had blood stains on the front of his shirt. You had a mirror image of the exact stain on the back of your shirt."
The boy stared at him still.
"You and I both know what's going on. You know because you're living through it, and I know because I can make an educated guess," Fuller explained, "It's not fair to you or your brother for you to keep quiet about this."
Now Tommy looked offended, "maybe you don't know the whole story. Maybe you're making assumptions and don't understand at all," he said, obviously trying to keep his voice calm even though a slight tremor made its way into his tone.
"Then please feel free to fill me in," Fuller suggested.
"No," Tommy frowned.
"Can you at least tell me why you'd want to protect someone who is hurting you?" Fuller asked.
"I'm not," Tommy scowled, "I'm protecting myself, and my brother."
"How are you protecting each other by letting each other get hurt?" Fuller wondered. His voice was increasing in volume. He didn't want to yell at this kid who probably already got yelled at more than enough at home. But he wanted the boy to understand where he was coming from. No matter how many kids like this he talked to, it still frustrated him when he was trying his best to help someone who just wouldn't let him.
"Let me spell this out for you," Tommy was still glaring, but now leaning forward slightly. His voice was increasing in volume as well, "no one is hurting us. But if someone was, and we said anything about it, what would happen to us? We'd get sent off somewhere. We'd get separated. We'd go to some run down troubled teens home or to some molester foster parents who would hate us, because we're too old. Foster parents molest and beat their kids even when they are young and cute, so how the fuck do you think we'd do in a place like that? If we even made it that far... We'd probably end up in juvie within a month."
"I'd make sure that doesn't happen," Fuller explained to him. The boy had pretty much just admitted that he and his brother were being abused. Yet his 'hypothetical' story wouldn't be enough for Fuller to work with. He needed Tommy to be clear in his acceptance of the captain's help. It wasn't enough for Fuller to know what was going on. He needed the boys' cooperation, "I've had kids your age come to me for help, and I keep an eye on them still, even years later. I still check in on them, and they are all fine. I would never send a kid off with people I wasn't sure about. And I sure as hell don't just send them off and forget about them. You're right that some foster homes aren't the best, but if you let me help you, I'm not going to let you go anyplace that isn't safe."
Tommy shook his head, "I think we'll just wait this out. Doug's gonna be eighteen in less than a year. Then we can move out."
"You can't," Fuller raised his eyebrow, "your brother isn't going to be granted custody of you just because he's eighteen."
Tommy's eyes were wide. He hesitated for a moment, "Then we'll live together anyway. And if Dad objects, we'll flee the country, or something..."
Fuller sighed, "will you please let me help you? I won't let you get separated from your brother. I'll make sure you're okay with wherever you end up living. You could live with relatives if they'll have you... We'll work something out."
Tommy shook his head, "no," he insisted, "there's nothing wrong. We don't need your help."
Fuller took a business card out of his wallet, "I'm going to give you my phone number," he offered, "please don't throw it away. I'm not saying you've got to ever use it, but I want you to keep it. And if you ever feel like you or your brother is in danger, for any reason at all, I want you to call me. My offer will still stand forever. If you ever need help, I'm willing to be the one to give it," he slid the card across the table so that it was in front of Tommy.
The boy looked down at the card. He looked worried and quite conflicted, but he reached out and took the card, stuffing it into his pocket and then looking back up at Fuller.
"Is your father expecting you back home any time soon?" Fuller asked. He didn't want to call their father while Doug was as drunk as he was currently. Even if the boys weren't willing to let him help them, he would still do what little he could to keep them safe.
"No," Tommy shook his head, "he doesn't know when we're coming home. We haven't seen him since yesterday afternoon. But the later we come back, probably the more angry he'll be. But if we come home and Doug is drunk, he'll probably be even more angry," his eyes went wide again, as if he'd just let some big secret slip out, "I mean... You know how dads are... I'm sure your dad would be mad if you got drunk too... When you were in high school, I mean."
"Yes," Fuller agreed, "he would have been furious. That's why I made sure to keep that fact from his as best as I could."
Tommy narrowed his eyes, "you got drunk while you were in high school? Are you joking? Is this one of those things where cops try to relate to you so you'll confide in them? Because it's not going to work..."
"No," Fuller laughed, "I'm not pulling any tricks here. I really did get drunk in high school. I did all sorts of crazy things. I still do drink from time to time. You can break the law and still grow up to lead a productive life. You and your brother seem like very caring boys. You've got very high defensive walls built up, but I can tell you're good people. You'll end up being okay if you let yourselves."
"I'll deal with that option later," Tommy frowned, "I'm gonna keep being an irresponsible criminal for now," he smiled slightly.
Fuller raised his eyebrows, "I'm going to talk to your brother," he said, "you keep that card, and remember to call the number if you need any help with anything at all."
"Oh? Anything at all? You gonna do my homework for me?" Tommy grinned, "I'd get better grades if I had help with that."
"Tommy," Fuller looked at him, "if you ever want help with your homework, come on over to the chapel and we'll see what we can do. Mind you, we won't do it for you, but surely someone around here will know how to help."
Tommy rolled his eyes, "don't interrogate my brother like you just did with me. That's not fair. Anything he says can't be taken seriously, and you know it. He's so drunk he doesn't know what's going on. He might say our dad is a were wolf, but that doesn't mean it's true. He's probably going to say all sorts of stupid stuff..."
"We'll see," Fuller stood up and opened the door, holding it open for Tommy as he walked over to the cell where his brother was being held, "Doug," Fuller called out, "could I talk to you for a minute, son?"
Doug nodded, stumbling out of the cell as Fuller opened the door. Maybe talking to him while he was drunk wasn't such a good idea after all. He might tell them who sold him the drugs, but even if he admitted Tommy and he were being abused by their father, that admission wasn't really going to matter if he sobered up and denied it. What kind of a judge was going to take teenagers away from their parent when the teenagers insisted the parent was a swell guy?
"Come on," he ordered, putting his arm around Doug's back and leading him toward the room where he and Tommy had just talked. Doug was already seeming a little less drunk than when he'd come in, but was definitely not sober, "stay right here. I'm going to get you some water."
He grabbed a bottle of water from the small fridge they kept in the chapel. Maybe it would help the boy to not have a hangover. He walked back, slid the water over to Doug and then sat down across the table from him.
"What do ya want to talk about, Mr. Morris?" Doug asked, plopping himself heavily down onto the chair where his brother had been sitting.
"It's Fuller," the captain reminded him, "remember? I was working undercover as a teacher at your school, but I'm actually a police captain. Adam Fuller."
"Ooooh," Doug nodded, "Yeah... I remember now. Adam Fuller. Captain. You wanted to know about drugs. But I won't tell you," he leaned forward, "it's a secret," he whispered.
Fuller looked at him. He looked much more at ease about all this than his brother had, "I know nothing you say is really going to matter at this point, but I'm going to talk to you and see if any of this will stick and help you out later."
Doug widened his eyes and leaned forward even more, making sure to show Fuller than he had his full attention, "okay. Go."
Fuller felt a smile tugging at his lips, but he made sure not to let it form on his face. This was serious, no matter how Doug was acting, "you and your brother are in a pretty serious situation, and you need help, whether you'll admit it or not," Fuller started.
"Nah," Doug interrupted, leaning back in his chair, "we've been arrested before. You weren't there, but it's happened. Don't get mad," he started, looking around himself as if there may be some hidden person listening in on them, "but the other cops seemed more serious... Like, we went to an actual police station and everything. The cops were cops instead of high school students and you... It was completely real. And it was more than once. Of all the times I was arrested, this one seems the best. So this is nothin. We'll be fine."
"That's not what I was referring to," Fuller explained, "I don't expect you to tell the truth, and if you do, I don't know what I'll do with it, but I know something's going on at your house to result in you boys being injured every day. Each day I saw you at the school, you had more injuries than the day before. And I can see some of those injuries point toward the possibility that someone at home is hurting you."
Doug frowned, "I do my best," he said.
Fuller narrowed his eyes, "what?" he asked, not sure what the boy was trying to say.
"I try to make sure Tommy doesn't get hurt," he was still frowning, "I do what I can... But there's only so much I can do. I think Dad loved Mom. He was really in love with her, you know? And when she died, he just kinda lost it. Tommy looks more like Mom. I look more like Dad. Do you think Tommy looks at me and sees Dad and hates me?" he looked like he was ready to cry. So much for him being a happy drunk...
"I'm sure he loves you," Fuller assured him, "you're his big brother. He probably looks up to you and respects you more than anyone else in the world ever could. It doesn't matter who you resemble. And he's counting on you to make sure he stays safe."
"I know," Doug threw his hands over his eyes and sighed loudly, "but life's a lot more complicated than... ugggghh! We don't know what to do... There's a lot of possibilities, you know? What's going to happen no matter what we do? And we can't know for sure! It's all just a damn guessing game."
Fuller narrowed his eyes and nodded. Though the kid wasn't speaking entirely coherently, he thought he understood what he was trying to convey, "the smartest thing for you to do would be to sober up and talk to your brother. Explain to him that everything will be okay if you let me do my job and help get you two out of there. I can make sure you get to stay together. I won't let anyone split you up, and I won't let you get sent somewhere bad. I promise you that."
Doug looked at him. He had tears in his eyes, "my dad's going to be so mad at us."
"If you let me, I can make sure he doesn't do anything to you or your brother," Fuller told him, "but if you're just going to sober up and deny everything you're saying right now, it's going to all be for nothing. If I go to your house and tell him I'm taking his kids away, and then tomorrow you two go back, he's probably going to be even more angry. I need you to be sure you want my help and be sure you're not going to back down before I do anything."
"I think we can stick it out a little bit longer," Doug told him, "Tommy and I are leaving when I turn eighteen."
"When you're eighteen, you're still going to be a kid. Any job you get is still going to pay minimum wage. You won't be any more ready to live on your own then than you are right now. It's possible that you and Tommy will be able to scrape by, but why not take help when it's offered to you?" Fuller wondered, "I can assure you that you'll be okay."
Doug shook his head, "I think this is one of the things Tommy told me not to talk to you about," he frowned, "can I go back to the cell now?"
"Captain?" Ioki opened the door and peaked his head inside, "I just got a call from Kincaid. They found a nineteen year old kid at the party who had over six hundred dollars in cash on him and quite a bit of coke and weed. Karl Harrison. They gave fines to a few other kids who had drugs on them, but they didn't have much. And of course they confiscated all the drugs."
"Karl's nineteen?" Doug turned around and looked at Ioki, who smiled at him but otherwise ignored him.
"Should we call their father?" Ioki asked, "we can just give them a fine for possession and underage drinking. We could test their blood alcohol content... Give 'em a court date if you want."
Fuller shook his head, "I want to wait a few more hours still before calling their father. Give Doug a chance to sober up a little more. And I don't want to stick them with a bunch of fines and court just yet. Let me think it over."
Ioki nodded, "just because you feel bad for them doesn't mean you should let them get away with buying cocaine. And you know they're probably selling it too. They sell marijuana at least. You know that," he looked agitated, "letting them off the hook isn't going to help them at all."
"It might in this case," Fuller narrowed his eyes, "if I send them home with fines that they can't afford, what do you think's going to happen? Their father's going to have to pay them. And how do you think he'll feel about that? A normal father would be furious. A father who beats his kids is going to be even worse."
Doug's eyes widened, "can I go back to Tommy now?" he asked.
Fuller nodded and stood up. He felt guilty for saying that right in front of Doug. He had obviously scared the boy, but maybe he needed to be a little more scared. He handed Doug a card identical to the one he had given to the younger boy minutes earlier, "if you ever need help, call me, okay?" he looked into Doug's eyes, "I'm serious. Any time you feel like you or your brother are in danger, don't hesitate to call me. I want to help you boys right now, but if you won't let me yet, I'll settle on doing it later. Whenever you need help, call me. Understand?"
Doug nodded.
He led the boy back to the cell where his brother was still standing. He sincerely hoped they would let him help them soon. If he had to wait too long, he was going to have to help them without their consent or cooperation, and that probably wasn't going to go over well...
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Five more chapters to go...
