Crash and Burn

Chapter 13 – Daniel, Come to Judgement.

The dark haired young man glanced around the abandoned former office in disbelief. He'd arrived, half expecting to find his captive dead since he'd looked so goddamned awful last time he'd seen him but this was completely unexpected. As he stood, staring at the space where the detective's shackled body had been slumped only yesterday evening, he had to wonder whether the three quarters of a bottle of Tequila he'd drunk was to blame for what he saw, or rather what he didn't see.

"Fuck," he spat, pushing a hand through his thick brown hair as he squinted to try and refocus his eyes, suddenly coming to the conclusion that the last thing he needed was a body filled with alcohol when clearly something was amiss. This was bad, he knew. He'd come tonight with the intention of murdering his hostage, if of course the man wasn't dead already. The police hadn't 'dealt' and his brother was still in custody with the charges of attempted kidnapping no closer to being dropped. Whether he would actually have been able to go through with the crime of murder in the first he didn't know, hence the copious amount of neat alcohol to bolster his flagging nerve, but now he'd never find out.

"Shit. Shit. Shit," he said, turning quickly, realising that the only way his hostage could have left was if someone had rescued him. "Daniel you prick, you better not have told them…"

"So his name's Daniel is it?" a voice said from behind him, causing him to spin round to where he was greeted by the sight of several police officers, some uniformed and some not all pointing guns at him, their expressions deadly. "I suggest you put your hands in the air if you want to live to tell Daniel what a prick he is to his face." The instruction sounded jovial but the man who uttered it had a glint in his eye that no way indicated humour.

Not drunk enough to think he was invincible, the young man did as he was told before several of the cops rushed forward and shoved him to the ground, cuffing his hands behind his back before he had time to contemplate what was happening. Once he was secured they hauled him upright and began to search his clothing for possible weapons, eventually locating the small handgun in the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

"JJ," the officer who found it said, turning to the stony faced man behind him. "Check it out." JJ took the weapon from him and released the catch, confirming that the gun was loaded. "What exactly did you intend to do with this?" he asked coldly, having to use every ounce of his willpower to stop himself from beating the man to death with the lump of metal in his hand.

The dark haired young man simply stared as JJ stood before him, fuming at what he could only guess would have befallen Dee had he still been held prisoner. "You're in one whole heap of shit my friend," he growled, before he jerked his head in the direction of the only exit. "Put him in the car. I'm taking him in." Several of the uniformed cops nodded as one of them shoved the suspect to start him walking. JJ watched as they filed out through the door, one of the other detectives reading the young man his rights as they went. When they'd gone, a hand came to rest on his shoulder and he turned to see Ted watching him in concern. "You can relax now," the other man said gently, "We got him."

"He hurt Dee," JJ replied almost inaudibly as they started to walk together towards the exit. "Shit, Ted! Was he going to kill him?"

The other man shrugged; his own expression dark at the thought, before he pushed aside the negativity. "Dee's safe, he's on the mend and this bastard's going to jail. Let's not think about what could have been, huh?"

JJ glanced across at him and smiled, grateful for the support. "You're right, Ted, you're absolutely right." He laughed suddenly, feeling nothing short of victorious. "We got the bastard! Look who has the last laugh!"

They were forced to stop short when one of the other officers almost ran into them as re-entered the musty building. The young man looked nervous as he looked first at Ted before his gaze came to rest on JJ. "Uh Sir… The, uh, the suspect's just thrown up in your car."

JJ glanced across at Ted, who was fighting down the smirk that threatened to split his features. "Don't say a word," JJ growled warningly as Ted shrugged his shoulders innocently. The other man did as he was told, but couldn't resist whistling the old Sinatra song 'They All Laughed' until he reached the line 'Who's got the last laugh now?' when he broke into a fit of giggles as JJ smacked him around the head.

"Here," JJ grumbled, thrusting his cell phone at Ted. "Phone Ryo and let him know. He'll probably want to tell Dee."

Ted did as instructed, frowning when there was no answer on either home or cell phone. "Maybe he's at the hospital," he mused before he ended the second unsuccessful call and handed the phone back to JJ. "Oh well, he'll know soon enough when he gets in work tomorrow."

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It wasn't long before the buzz around the precinct surrounding the arrest of the second suspect in the Latener kidnapping case reached the ears of the harried commissioner the next morning. If Goldsmith was right, this would be Liam; older brother of the millionaire's former rent boy and deeply bitter partner in crime. Now they had both in custody but still no one knew anything about them but as he stared blankly at the insignificant financial reports on his desk, suddenly unable to concentrate on meaningless facts and figures, Rose had an ominous suspicion that that wouldn't last for much longer.

Firstly, he had to deal with the press conference. It had been planned for the coming afternoon anyway; although the content would now be subject to change since they had the second suspect in custody. The media could now know that Dee was safe since they didn't have to worry about scaring off the kidnapper and the ensuing frenzy would be inevitable. The general public's interest had already been piqued with the involvement of the celebrity family, the Goldsmiths, and the fact that this saga was far from over was bound to leave them salivating for more.

They would prosecute the younger boy on a charge of suspicion of crime and his brother for the same, plus kidnapping and assault of a police officer. The older boy would receive a significant sentence for the second crime and Rose didn't doubt that he already knew it. The thought made him edgy. If Liam knew he was going down then why not take everyone else with him? Goldsmith would be first but then he, Rose, would surely be next. If the suspects disclosed that Dee was privy to this information then he would be made to testify against his own boss and for some reason, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that the angry detective would take extreme pleasure in doing so, not that Rose could blame him.

His own feelings for Ryo made them bitter rivals and he had never made any secret of the fact that he would jump into Dee's shoes should the opportunity ever arise. He had pulled rank many times in order to separate the two lovers and he knew that Dee would not be quick to forget such underhand tactics when Rose needed him. Even if Dee knew nothing about his own murky past there was every chance he would know about Goldsmith's and that would still spell trouble. Goldsmith would take him down himself if someone else hadn't done it for him. Massaging his closed eyelids, Rose reluctantly accepted what he had to do; it was time to go and pay Dee a visit.

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The dream Dee awoke from was enough to leave him physically shaking. He swallowed hard and sat up, rubbing his eyes vigorously to banish the images of his nightmare to the recesses of his mind. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead which he blotted with one bandaged wrist as the door opened and a nurse stepped in, her face breaking into a friendly smile seeing her patient was awake.

"Good morning, Dee," she said brightly as she walked towards his bed, "Did you sleep well?"

"Not really," he replied vaguely, avoiding her gaze by looking out of the window. He really didn't need company as the memory of his nightmare lingered but she was doing her job and he couldn't tell her to leave. "I just need to change your bandages," she explained, sensing his unease at her presence.

Obediently, Dee held his arms out to allow her access to the bandaged limbs. He still didn't turn from the window as she started to unravel the first dressing, knowing how he must look after crying himself to sleep the previous evening. To ease the tension, she made small talk, asking occasional questions that never really required answers as she cleaned the healing wounds and re-covered them with fresh gauze. Once she had attended to both limbs she carefully peeled back the dressing on his cheek to examine whether there was any improvement in the damaged flesh. Dee sat silently the whole time, staring but never really seeing anything as he thought of Ryo and wondered if he would be able to fix the mess he had created.

After she had finished taping the new piece of gauze to his face, the nurse made to leave, informing him that Dr Stephens would be along shortly to help him with his insulin. Dee sighed and nodded, knowing that the day was likely to see a constant procession of hospital professionals coming to work on whichever damaged part of him they specialised in. The kindly Dr Stephens did indeed arrive soon after, frowning as she took in his pallid features and red-rimmed eyes. Sensing he didn't want to talk about it, she got down to business, showing him how to take his blood glucose levels and calculate his dose of insulin accordingly. This time, Dee was required to prepare the injection himself, which he did with nervous hands, fumbling the equipment and at one point dropping the vial containing the drug as he tried to fill the syringe.

"I can't do this," he growled bitterly as the doctor retrieved the container from where it had rolled under the bed. "It's too hard."

With well practised patience, Dr Stephens showed him where he'd gone wrong and handed the vial back to him to try again. "Come on, Dee," she said encouragingly, "You were almost there. Don't give up because it wasn't plain sailing first time round."

"You mean I can't give up," Dee replied flatly, "It's not like I've got a choice or anything."

"That too," she said, still smiling as she passed him the syringe. Fortunately, Dee had no further difficulties as he prepared the dose and injected it into his stomach like the doctor had shown him the previous evening. He listened carefully as she explained that he could also inject into his arms and legs, although this would result in a slower reaction from the insulin. Not wanting to overload him with too much information in one go, Dr Stephens talked with him for another twenty minutes or so before the door opened and a nurse entered, bringing his breakfast on a tray which she placed before him on the table that fitted over his bed. Dee surveyed the food warily, noting it looked much more like something Ryo would eat than he would, with the small well-balanced helpings of cereal, fruit and whole wheat toast.

"To be honest I'm not really hungry…" he started to say before the sight of his female doctor shaking her head stopped him.

"Uh uh, wrong answer," she said, although there was sympathy in her tones. "You've got to remember now that you're eating for your body's benefit, not your brain's. You might not feel like eating but just remember what that will do to your blood glucose level if you don't." Seeing that she was prepared to stand over him and watch him eat, Dee picked up the spoon and began to eat the cereal before it got any soggier. Satisfied that he would do as he was told, the two female medics left him to eat in peace.

When his door opened again some time later, Dee was placing mental bets with himself about which professional it would be next; it was too early for the physiotherapists to be involved as the plaster cast on his leg needed to stay on for at least six weeks so he decided it had to be the plastic surgeon, come to talk to him about the skin graft he was likely to need to repair the wound on his face. The female that entered however wasn't wearing a white coat and when she turned to close the door behind her, Dee caught the word 'psychiatrist' on the identity badge clipped to the bottom of her smart jacket. She looked to be in her late twenties, with attractive doll-like features and fiery red hair that tumbled down her back in luscious waves.

"Detective Latener?" she said politely as she smiled and offered him her hand. "My name's Polly Andrews and I'm…"

"A shrink… I know. I saw your badge," he said flatly, ignoring the outstretched hand. She withdrew the appendage and sat down in the chair next to his bed, not the least bit put off by his hostile greeting; clearly this was something that happened a lot in her line of work.

He glared at her for a moment before he spoke, the words accompanied by a slightly threatening tone that matched the expression on his face. She looked timid and he hoped he'd be able to scare her away fairly easily. "Look, I don't know what they've said but I…"

"Don't need a shrink," she said, finishing his sentence off for him, still smiling sweetly.

He glowered at her for several seconds longer before he turned to stare sullenly out of the window, hoping that if he ignored her for long enough, she would get bored and go away.

"I understand how negative it seems when someone recommends you see a psychiatrist but really we're just an ear to listen when you've had something happen that you may need to talk about. I can be objective and give you advice if you ask for it but I prefer to just listen."

"Well thanks for the offer but I don't need advice, or an ear, or whatever the hell else you're thinking of offering. I'm fine."

She opened her mouth to speak but Dee pre-empted her as she took a breath. "Look, don't you think I have enough on my plate at the moment? I was kidnapped and chained to a wall for five days. I have a broken leg for the second time in six months, a facial wound that will require plastic surgery and an incurable illness that I'll have to learn to manage for the rest of my life. Why the hell would I need to deal with a shrink on top of all that?"

Polly studied his angry face for a moment and smiled placidly. "I think you just answered your own question there, Detective Latener."

The statement hung in the air for several long moments before Dee responded, his voice flat and emotionless. "What makes you think you can help me?" he said quietly but the challenge was clear in his voice.

"I'm not saying I'll be able to help you," she replied gently but firmly, "but I think you at least deserve the option of trying. Some people do make it through extremely difficult events in their lives without professional help but others find it affects them for a long time afterwards, sometimes even for the rest of their lives. They don't realise that something that happened to them even a long time ago can still be affecting their decisions and judgement. They push away the people they need the most and end up more alone and isolated than they were before."

Dee looked away, his heart lurching as he thought of Ryo and how he'd treated him almost every time he'd seen him since he'd regained consciousness. "I don't want to be like that," he whispered almost inaudibly but she heard it anyway.

"Well that's good," she said supportively, "You've identified that you don't want what's happened to you over the last week to colour the rest of your life. You've taken the first step already, Detective Latener."

"It's Dee," he said, turning to look at her at last, his face a blank mask. "Please… call me Dee."

The attractive redhead smiled warmly and nodded, sensing that he had gone a little way to accepting her support. "Okay, Dee," she said studying his tired face. "I'll talk as much or as little as you want me to. If we hit on a subject that's too painful at the moment then just say and we can revisit it at a later date. I'm here to support you Dee, not say whether I think you're fit to work or anything like that. Everything between us is strictly confidential."

Dee nodded, appreciating her straightforward manner and re-evaluating his initial opinion that she seemed too 'wet' to be of any use to him. "Okay… so what do we talk about?" He suddenly looked awkward and a little embarrassed. "I don't think I'm ready to talk what's just happened to me… it's too difficult."

"That's fine," she said soothingly, settling back in her chair to encourage him to relax too. "Why don't you tell me why you decided against telling me to hit the road just then? Would that be okay?"

She watched as Dee bit his lip and turned away for a few seconds. Outside he could see several birds perched on a narrow ledge on the building opposite and he wondered whether they had as many problems in life as humans. "My partner has been to see me several times and every time I've ended up asking him to leave." He paused and his expression looked pained. "I get mad at the slightest thing he says and… last night when we had a fight he thought I was going to hit him."

Polly nodded thoughtfully and when he didn't continue, she took the opportunity to ask a question. "So how did that make you feel?"

"Angry," he said quickly, his green eyes flashing before a sadness passed over them, "And worthless. I'd never lay a finger on Ryo and he knows that. He could knock me into the middle of next week if we got into a fight but that's not the reason I wouldn't hit him. I love him and I'd never do anything to hurt him. Why can't he see that?"

"Because all he saw was your anger and not the real you?" she replied, fielding the question back to him. When he looked a little confused, she elaborated. "Your partner knows you've been through a highly unusual experience; one that he's never seen you have to deal with before, therefore he's making allowances that you may react in a way that's out of character for you. Everything he knows about you has gone out the window so he may think you're capable of things that you'd never normally dream of doing. He probably feels like he's treading on eggshells when he's around you. Does that make sense?"

Dee looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. "I guess so, but it's like I can't stop myself. I just get angrier and angrier and he's usually the nearest person to take it out on even though he's been through a pretty tough time himself."

"Has he told you that?" Polly asked, her expression and tone remaining supportive and non-judgemental.

"Kind of," Dee replied, picking at some lint on the bed sheet. "Since the kidnapping's been all over the news. I think he's found the attention hard to deal with." He looked up to see the female psychiatrist waiting for him to continue. "This is Ryo's first gay relationship," he explained, "He still finds it difficult to tell people so I imagine having it broadcast to thousands on the news wasn't much fun for him. I feel guilty that I wasn't able to protect him from that."

"That's a natural reaction, Dee. We all want to protect those we love from pain just like Ryo is probably hurting badly that he couldn't stop you from being taken."

"That wasn't his fault," Dee said defensively, "We thought he was the one in danger, not me."

"You're right; it's irrational that he should feel guilty about what's happened, just as it's irrational for you to feel guilty about not being there when the media were hounding him. The blame lies squarely with the person that decided to kidnap you and you both need to recognise that instead of trying to shoulder the burden yourselves." She paused and glanced at him to check he was listening. "It sounds straightforward but guilt can sometimes become a bit of a contest, you know, who can feel the guiltiest? We think we're helping the other person by trying to shoulder all the responsibility ourselves but in reality, we're preventing the blame, if of course there is someone to blame, from being apportioned correctly."

Dee contemplated this for a moment, thinking how many times he'd seen victims of crime think they were in some way responsible for what had happened. He'd helped support rape and robbery victims who'd blamed themselves for allowing the crime to happen, reassuring them time and time again that they had nothing to feel guilty about. Practising what he preached however was proving to be somewhat harder. "I did get angry with Ryo for apologising," he admitted after a pause. "It's just something he instinctively does when he feels backed into a corner. Even when it couldn't possibly be his fault, he tries to apologise."

"That irritates you, huh?" she replied, smiling slightly as he rolled his eyes.

"Hell yeah, he's just too damn nice!" Dee said, pushing his long dark bangs away from his eyes.

"But you wouldn't change him for the world right?"

Dee paused and smiled, seeing what she was getting at. "No… no I wouldn't. I waited two years to get a chance with Ryo and…" He stopped suddenly as the memory of Ryo's distressed visage floated into his mind, an image created only the previous evening. "I was going to say that I don't intend to blow it with him but I probably already have. The way I spoke to him last night…" he trailed off, shaking his head sadly. "I wouldn't blame him if he never comes back."

"Oh, I'm sure he will," Polly assured him, "If he's as nice as you say he is. We just need to work through this anger so you don't do the same thing again."

Dee was in the process of agreeing when there was a knock at the door. Thinking it would be a nurse or doctor coming to check on him again he said, "Come in," after glancing quickly at Polly to check it was okay with her. They both watched as the door opened and a blond head poked around the frame before the rest of his body followed it into the room. Polly merely smiled, unfamiliar with the newcomer, but she concluded he wasn't Dee's lover judging by the frown the bed-bound man gave him. Her suspicions were proved correct when Dee said, "Commissioner Rose. What are you doing here?"

Sensing this was important, Polly stood and smoothed down her skirt. "Well I guess we're done for now. I'll see you again tomorrow if you like." Dee nodded, his attention drawn from Rose for the moment. "I would. Thank you, Ms Andrews and I'm sorry about before… when you first came in."

Polly smiled as she knelt down and picked up her briefcase. "No problem… and it's Polly, really."

Dee nodded as she pushed her flame coloured hair over her shoulder and turned to leave. She smiled at the handsome man stood in the doorway as he stepped back to let her pass, before frowning once out of the room when he didn't return her friendly gesture. She paused and almost turned around to see if Dee wanted her to stay but the door was already shut. Letting out a sigh, she hoped that the blond visitor wasn't about to undo all the good work they'd just started as she set off down the corridor, thinking a strong cup of coffee was in order.

TBC…