Chapter 4

Eleven Years Ago

Fuck.

He should probably lay off the whiskey. There was a dull throbbing at the base of his skull, and the front, and the sides, and as he blearily opened his eyes and blinked into the darkness he realized he'd passed out on the couch again.

Whatever. It wasn't like it was any less comfortable than the bed in the back room; all the furniture in his grandpa's cabin had been picked for its functionality not its style, and it had all been picked about three decades ago. At least. It was strange being here, where everything felt familiar except for him but he liked it. He especially liked that for the first time in his life there wasn't anyone here but him- he couldn't bear to be around anyone else. Could barely stand to be around himself but he was working on that. He hadn't really had a choice.

Tess hadn't come.

Not yet anyway and three weeks later there wasn't much he needed her for anymore. Thinking that always made him feel like an ass, he knew it wasn't her fault, or her choice, and the thought that she might get hurt trying to get to him made his stomach twist with fear and his heart go heavy with guilt but that didn't make it any less true.

Hell the last time he'd needed her it had taken her seven months to show up so why would he have thought this time would be any different?

Ben's funeral had been two weeks ago. It was easily the most difficult he'd ever been to, his own mothers included but somehow he'd gotten through it, through Gail's constant crying and Danny's dark silence and Ali breaking in his arms, and then trying to lose herself in them. And he'd almost let her. His guilt at not being able to save her brother was so strong he'd felt like he owed it to her to let her take whatever comfort she needed from him but the rational part of his brain, the part that had known her since she was fifteen knew better. Knew that he owed her better.

Her and Tess.

Half a bottle of whiskey and one sizable dent in his dresser later his guilt for almost betraying her had been equal to his anger. She'd told him to trust the system, to trust her. But the system had failed. And so had she.

Despite the fact that everyone, mother fucking everyone knew that Lonnie had done it, had killed not just Ben but three other boys the district attorney's office wouldn't file charges. Apparently it wasn't enough that a week prior to Ben's death he'd been caught jerking off at a playground, wasn't enough that the fucking day before he had gone out and bought the same brand of rope and duct tape, wasn't even enough that they had found pictures of Ben on his computer, pictures of all the boys, of more boys.

It was all 'circumstantial'.

That was what the lawyer had said, the one Lonnie's parents had all but drained their savings to pay for. It sickened him, all their professions that their son was innocent- he wasn't. He knew a monster when he saw one. He'd seen enough of them.

Except this time it wasn't his job to deal with them.

He had never hated his decision to leave the military more than when he'd had to hand Lonnie over at the precinct after arresting him. All he'd wanted was to be the one who interrogated him, who made him confess and who saw the look in his eyes when he realized there was no way out. But it wasn't up to him. As a rookie he had zero authority, though as a fellow officer not to mention a friend of one of the victim's families he'd been kept in the loop, not that it had done much good. Still he knew it was because of that same courtesy that his Sergeant had told him it was only 'heavily suggested' that he take furlough after news broke that Lonnie wasn't going to be prosecuted.

He'd come out here the same day, only stopping long enough to tell Mouse and grab a couple changes of clothes before he was out of the city; he didn't think he'd do anything to Lonnie now but the urge was still there. And still very strong. There had been a few more nights where he'd gotten in his car with the intent to take matters into his own hands, literally, but he'd never gone through with it. Had never even turned the ignition, partly because he knew that if he got within a mile of the place Tess would know. It was still strange if he thought too closely about it but he was growing used to the way she kept an eye on him and most of the time he liked it, liked knowing that she was looking out for him, especially considering that given both their jobs it was likely one day those eyes would save his life but… they hadn't this time.

She hadn't.

And she could have. He knew what she was capable of, the kind of things she'd done in the past, all those hacks that had gotten her noticed by the agency in the first place. What was the difference between exposing a corrupt government official and making sure a pedophile spent the rest of his life in prison?

Apparently something, because she hadn't stepped in. Hadn't done anything besides send him a few texts to let him know she was thinking of him, that she would be home 'soon'. He had never said he wanted her to do something, not out loud anyway, but it still bothered him that she hadn't. He would have done it for her. Would have done it for anyone, for all the boys Lonnie had hurt and all the boys that he might yet.

Not that he was going to hurt anyone else.

He would make sure he didn't.

Whatever it took.

So that was where he was. Laying on this couch still a little drunk, trying not to hate himself for the things he hadn't done and everyone else for the things they had.

He should probably go back to sleep. He was tempted to stay where he was but he was laying right beneath the window and the curtains in here were crap, flimsy Dollar Store ones his mom had picked up one weekend on a run into town after he and Will accidentally tore the old ones down while roughhousing. He hadn't reached out to his brother after Ben's death but apparently their aunt had because he'd offered to come, had said that he would but then things must've gotten busy at the hospital because he'd stopped calling to check in.

Another promise broken.

Fuck.

He definitely needed to sleep.

With a loud groan he pushed himself up and rolled off the couch, cursing foully when he banged his shin against the coffee table but though his head still pounded his instincts remained sharp enough that as he glared over his shoulder at the offending object he also spotted the large black shape outside the window.

There was a car parked outside.

One that wasn't his.

An SUV actually. Large, four door, black or maybe dark blue or gray, with the headlights off and the engine dead. And no one sitting inside.

This time he cursed silently as he glanced around for his gun, now keeping one eye flicking between the window, the door and the back hallway, which was maybe an overreaction but there wasn't exactly any reason for anyone to be out here, especially not when it was almost four in the morning. And if it was just someone who'd gotten lost on the highway then where were they? He'd thought it was his headache that had woken him but maybe it had been the sound of a car door closing? Or of someone fiddling at a window? A dozen scenarios ran through his mind and it was a testament to just how dark it had become that it wasn't until he saw a familiar silhouette standing at the foot of the dock that the most obvious one occurred to him.

Tess had come.

He hardly noticed that he found his gun and put it down in the same breath, hardly felt the cool September breeze against his chest as he slipped out the front door- he was too busy taking in every inch of her. She hadn't noticed him yet, her own attention locked on the moonlit river before her and he wondered what she made of it. He'd always wanted to bring her here. Had ever since that day on base when he'd described it to her but he didn't think he'd ever actually told her it was a real place, not just somewhere he went in his mind when he needed to escape. Or in real life apparently. The fact that she was here now, for the reason that she was didn't sit right in his heart but he supposed there wasn't anything he could do about it. And then she started to turn, no doubt her Spidey senses were tingling and the minute he saw her face all the anger towards her that he'd been warring against vanished.

Partly because it was her, because no matter how full of rage the beast inside him got she was the only one that could calm it and partly because the dark bruise on her cheek was a stark reminder that she had her own battles to fight.

God, how many injuries did she have?

How many were his fault?

How hard had she pushed herself to get here so quickly?

It hadn't felt that way the last three weeks, hadn't felt that way the last five minutes but it did now. He didn't know who moved first but suddenly she was in his arms, his fingers automatically going to the large swelling that ran down her right cheek. Whoever had hit her had done a good job of it; a solid shot to her cheekbone that bloomed from across the corner of her eye all the way down to her jaw. He'd only just ascertained that it wasn't fractured when a pinch on his own face drew his gaze to hers and then as always he found himself getting lost in it.

It was such a Tess look, not devoid of her own pain or guilt or shame but all those things somehow overshadowed by the brightness that was her. That was the way she saw the world. He thought that might be the crux of it, of why he needed her so badly- because even when he believed in nothing else he could still believe in her.

She let out a small noise when he tugged her closer but before he could pull back to see what had caused it, it had definitely been one of discomfort she was sliding her arms around his neck so tightly he had no choice but to sink into her embrace. For a few perfect moments he just held her, and swore that every inhale of vanilla was soothing the damaged pieces of his soul. But slowly he remembered that it was four in the morning, and that she had to be tired, and was definitely injured, so he forced himself to step back and lead her inside, to ignore the empty whiskey bottles lining the kitchen counter and to hope she did too, quickly rifling around for one of his shirts before gently slipping off her jacket. He found a few more cuts and scrapes as he pushed down the loose button up she wore beneath, plus something that had required bandaging on her left arm. Had a bullet grazed her?

A knife?

Or maybe shrapnel?

"That one was actually Viv."

The soft sound of her voice pulled him out of his head but then he saw her smile and his heart gave a sharp ache- it was sweet but she couldn't hide the sadness and guilt in it and his only grew. How could he have been angry at her when he knew what she'd been doing?

The kind of danger she faced?

"It was an accident, but it was definitely her shot. Which I will not be letting her forget any time soon."

So it had been a bullet.

It didn't make him feel better to know it had come from her friend, clearly whatever firefight they'd gotten into had been messy but before he could dwell on it Tess was stepping closer, brushing her lips across his as her hands ran up his chest, which he only now remembered was bare. He knew immediately what she was offering, the kind of comfort she thought he needed and though he was so tempted to take it he couldn't. Not when she was hurt. And not when he couldn't be sure he wouldn't add to her pain. Because he might be calm right now but he still had plenty of rage left inside him. And because Tess was Tess she just gave him another of those soft smiles and stepped back to let him continue, staying still as he slipped off the rest of her clothes and slid his shirt on, following his lead as he guided her into the tiny bed and pulled her atop him, moving with him until her head rested in its spot right above his heart.

And there, with her nestled into his side and her warm breaths huffing against his skin, Jay slept peacefully for the first time in weeks.