A.N. Sorry chapters are taking a while to post. School's keeping me busy so I don't have much time to write. Please R&R and Enjoy :)
Chapter 12: Midnight Show
On their way home from the mall that night Sam had decided they would pick up diner so neither of them would need to cook. After the events he had gone through Cody found he had no appetite and his cheek stung with every movement of his chewing, the pain settling in along with the bruise. Still Cody made a half-hearted attempt at a slice of pizza to please Sam and afterwards the detective insisted he put a salve on the mark, which smelled fiercely enough to make his eyes water.
The night was working out to be unpleasant and only seemed to grow worse when he stepped into the living room and was seized by the sight that greeted him outside the window. It was snowing - a heavy falling of thin flakes that blanketed the sky before ever settling on the ground. Cody knew that in that sort of snow everything got muted, footsteps vanishing before even leaving a mark. People disappeared in the streets even as you watched, like ghosts fading in the mist. The shelters would be packed, priority of beds given to young children and weathered seniors. If he made it to the soup kitchen on Pine and Crescent before nine he could be guaranteed a meal and could probably hang around for a few hours, but in the end he would need to seek shelter in an abandoned building or alley doorways.
I'll have to find some old coffee grinds to clean off my hands or the oil will cause frostbit…
Looking out the window Cody shivered until Sam stepped into the living room and brought him back to sense. The puzzled and silently questioning look of the detective reminded Cody that he didn't need to search for a shelter or worry about getting frostbitten. His meals were always guaranteed now and had it not been for the sickening smell of the salve he would have appeased his sudden hunger with another slice of pizza. The past few years hadn't even been that bad since he'd gotten off the streets by renting his own apartment; a small crummy hole in the wall, but sheltered just the same. He couldn't understand what had thrown his thoughts so far back in time.
"Let's talk," Sam said, taking his coffee to the sofa.
Hesitantly Cody pulled his gaze from the window and turned his back to the scene to perch beside Sam. It had been almost effortless for him to grow use to the luxuries of the house and after all they had been through Cody was sure Sam wasn't about to abandon him. Still the thought nagged at the back of his mind whether he should still worry that he might be tossed out. He hadn't thought about living in the streets since Sam had come to his ratty apartment and told him that he could move in.
"I don't want to talk about what happened," Cody said, knowing that in this case it wouldn't matter what he wanted.
Sure enough Sam disregarded his words and replied, "A Mall full of people, so why would they grab you?"
"They didn't mention anything about the scroll, only that someone wanted me out of the way."
"And the only people that want you out of the way are people that want the scroll," Sam mused to himself.
The entire affair made Cody feel uncomfortable again and he had no other information than what he had already relayed to Sam and Hank earlier. His discomfort, he was sure, must have been clear since, after asking one last time if Cody knew of anyone that would want him or the scroll, Sam suggested they put on the television. Cody eagerly took hold of the distraction and flipped through the stations for a Christmas special. He found that the closer to the holiday they got the more frequently movies and TV specials played.
Sam smirked when Cody finally chose a channel and mumbled, "I can't believe I'm paying for cable so you can watch basic television cartoons."
Cody cast him a glance from the corner of his vision, but Sam didn't look upset and he didn't complain further, so he figured his choice was all right. The two slowly eased into the evening, until all else was forgotten save for their sarcastic banter about the vintage traditions of the old cartoons. With a quiet smile Cody noted that Sam had relaxed as well, briefly lapsing into one of the rare moments when he actually acted his age. It was so easy to forget, sometimes, just how young the detective really was.
When they decided to call it a night early Cody's mind was free of the morning's trouble. He fell asleep easily, thinking about Sam's present and when he could next get the opportunity to purchase it. Soon, though, he began to toss in his sleep, his subconscious not fooled by the front he put up. The nightmares that followed were vicious and unsettling.
The man that stood before him could scarcely be described as anything but a gorilla and his narrow gaze focused in on Cody with such intensity that he found he couldn't even look the stranger in the eyes. "So you're the Soren boy huh?"
"We can just cut it off. Imagine one of my knives, the cold blade slowly slicing inch by inch through skin and then muscle. The bone will be difficult. Hours of hacking and sawing…but then again maybe we should just snap it off. One quick chop!"
Cody was jarred awake, a cold film of sweat gluing his clothes too tight for comfort and the nightmare images still playing on loop in his mind. As his stomach began to turn over he fought out from beneath the covers. The cool air instantly chilled his body and caused his already trembling limbs to shiver, but despite the weakness in his muscles he forced his legs to support him as he blindly felt his way along the hall to the bathroom. It was with a sense of relief that he collapsed to the tiled floor and hunched over the toilette.
His stomach reeled till his eyes burned and his throat felt raw, but still it seemed his intestines were determined to force themselves inside out. It felt like a blessing when a minute past and then two and not so much as a dry heave worked its way from him. Exhausted, he sunk to his side on the cold ceramic, gasping air into his pained chest and trying to calm his strained nerves. Waking up nauseas had been a regular occurrence for so long that it had become habit. There was nothing for it, but he was oh so tired of being sick. He had thought he was over the trauma of that time, but now all he could do was hope to expel the images – the past – from his memory long enough to get through the night.
Surprisingly it wasn't long before he fell back asleep, still lying on the bathroom floor, although he wasn't sure how long the rest had lasted. The next thing he knew the vision of Soren was tormenting his dreams once again. His heart began racing just as earlier, but he was spared from reliving the incident of his kidnappings and therefore didn't think he would be sick again. Still hot tears dampened his cheeks and he couldn't suppress the wracking sobs or stop his continued trembling. Desperate for comfort he pulled his legs up to his chest and pressed his face against his knees, making his universe as small as possible while rocking back and forth in rough jerks.
The movement was no comfort at all, though. It left him feeling alone and hollow and desperate for reassurance of something he couldn't name. Reassurance that he was safe maybe? That he had escaped the life of horror that used to consume him. That he wasn't dirty and tainted in every way imaginable on both body and soul. He longed for so much and yet expected nothing and the concept seemed too much to understand in his current fragile state, so he didn't try to analyze it any further.
A little slut like you living out on the streets, you probably found a quick way to make a buck. Just spread your pretty little legs and you get the protection of one the most powerful men around huh?
A mournful whimper reached his ears and it didn't escape his attention that the pitiful sound had come from him, succeeding in making him feel further degraded and embarrassed over his lack of strength. Then, as though feeling the first rays of the sun pierce through the darkness that was his mind, the warmth of Sam's memory steeled through him, calming his movements.
The detective radiated an aura of strength not restricted to the physical, which he envied. Just the thought of the other already made him feel more lighthearted and he found the strength to creep from the bathroom and back to his room. Quickly he stripped the bed of its comforter and pillow and, with both tucked under his arm, made his way to the second bedroom at the end of the hall. As quietly as he could, Cody pulled the door open just wide enough to slip through and tip-toed to the side of the bed. He couldn't see Sam's face, turned away from him and sheltered in the dark, but his breathing was deep and even in sleep. With a soft sigh he knelt down on the floor and began arranging the blanket.
Sam had woken up the moment the youth had crept in, but as he didn't seem to be leaving feigning sleep was pointless. He turned his head along the pillow and watched as Cody's shadowed figure tenderly placed the pillow he had brought at the top of his makeshift bed. Sam supposed he should have expected something of this nature after what had happened.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
At his words Cody jumped and whirled around to seek out his gaze in the dark.
"I…I thought you were sleeping. I had a nightmare so…I'm sorry I'll leave," he mumbled in explanation, but rather than making to leave he continued to kneel as he was, gaze lowered.
Sam sighed and pulled back the covers from the empty space on the bed beside him. Turning away again he said, "Hurry up and get in."
Cody didn't hesitate to jump into bed and curl up under the warmth of the blankets and so Sam added darkly, "Keep on your side. If you so much as touch me I'll kill you."
"Okay," was the quiet acknowledgment as the teen shifted to find a comfortable spot, hugging the far end of the bed.
The room quickly fell silent again, but Sam knew the other wasn't sleeping. The tension that radiated from the youth was quite distinct and he knew he would find no rest either till Cody was calm. Still he forced his eyes closed and tried desperately to capture what now seemed elusive.
Eventually through the darkness came a whisper. "Sam?"
"Shut up and go to sleep," he grumbled.
There was another moment of silence.
"I'm not a whore," the desperate whisper begged to be believed. "It isn't easy you know – living out on the streets in the cold and being so hungry you'll eat out of dumpsters. You do what you have to. I'm dirty no matter what so when someone comes up and offers you money…but it's not like a girl – you can't just spread your legs."
Cody's voice grew more frantic which each word; more anxious. What the hell did those bastards do to him?
Quickly Sam stopped the rant with soft, gentle words. "I never thought of you as a whore or dirty, Cody. We all know you did what you had to and no one blames you for it."
A deep, shuddering sigh escaped the youth and his tension eased at the understanding. Silent tears began to fall along Cody's cheeks, but they didn't last long because in another few minutes he was asleep.
The persistent ringing of the phone pulled Sam reluctantly from sleep. There were only two people who would call him so early in the morning: his informant or Bosa. The last thing he needed was to start his day with nagging as to whether or not he was making any progress with the case, but nor could he pass up the opportunity for an update should it be the former on the line. Blindly he fumbled for his nightstand and grunted into the receiver in place of a reply.
"Detective, I just got word that one of your men's been spotted," his informant, Dan said without any preamble.
"Where?" Sam demanded, vaguely thinking it strange that someone would be at a pawn shop so early in the morning.
"Not sure," Dan replied, but quickly explained, "guy said he stopped by last night and recognizing one of the faces from the photo. He couldn't get the guy to stay so he sent him to another joint instead. I'll stake it out today and wait for him to show then I can follow him back to his place, maybe get a tag on the others."
"Call me as soon as you have anything," Sam said before ending the conversation.
He was wide awake now, and when he pushed up from the bed he noticed with a bit of a surprise that so was Cody. The teen still hugged his end of the bed, but he was turned onto his side and studied Sam with a disconcerting silence. The detective wondered if his confession last night was cause for the weirdness and he debated telling him again that his past didn't matter anymore. But then Cody grinned sheepishly and rubbed at his eyes, looking less troubled then Sam had seen him in weeks.
"I'm starved," Cody announced, bouncing out of bed with enough energy to make Sam feel like an old man. "Let's make eggs okay?"
When they made their way down to the kitchen Sam realized that it wasn't as early as he had first assumed. He figured given the drama of the night before they were entitled to sleep in a little. In any case it appeared that the extra sleep had worked miracles on his young charge as there didn't seem to be any lingering melancholy in Cody while he danced around turning fried eggs into scrambled ones. The meal was saved when Hank and Joe came over and the former took over the cooking.
Unlike Cody, Sam noted that Hank looked as worn-out as he had the day before. In fact the look had been progressively worsening for weeks now and he was beginning to consider commenting. However, when Hank sat down with the last plate of eggs and toast he decided to hold his tongue till a later time. Sam knew he had been through a lot recently and didn't dismiss the possibility that the holidays were taking their toll. Yesterday's events had certainly been no help either.
"We finally all have a day off," Joe announced, "so what's the plan?"
"I want to go to the mall," Cody replied offhandedly, not looking up from his plate.
Slowly Sam lowered his mug from his lips, studying the teen just as Hank and Joe were. He saw that the other two were ready to protest the decision, and while he didn't understand either what this was about he knew it would be better for Cody to face whatever he needed to. The longer he hesitated the harder it would be to do in the end and whether this was to prove something to himself or not, developing a fear of public places wasn't something Sam intended to encourage. It was difficult enough to break Cody of the anxiety in the first place, going through it a second time was not an option.
"Well leave after breakfast," he announced before either of the other two could say anything.
The other two turned their questioning glances to Sam, but one look from him kept them quite. He kept a close eye on Cody, though, but saw no signs of hesitation or uncertainty while they finished their meal or while getting ready afterwards. The first sign he had of doubt was when they left the house and made their way down the drive to Hank's jeep. When Cody fell behind them Sam turned to call for him and saw him staring at the ground, but just as quickly the teen smiled and ran to catch up. Sam took a moment to try and see what Cody had been look at, but only saw the four pairs of footprints they had left in the snow remaining from the storm of the other night.
