Killer Fandom Redux
Category: Anime/Manga » Yu-Gi-Oh
Language: English, Rating: Rated: M
Genre: Suspense/Mystery
Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh, or any of its characters, clearly…or it would have gone significantly more different.
Warning: This story contains graphic violent and sexual content, yaoi, along with profanities. If you don't like, don't read; and if you read and cannot handle it, don't complain to me, you've been warned.
Author's Note: Well, this one has hit me out of left field. I honestly thought that I would never come back to this story…. let's see how long this urge goes X.X And, holy shit is this chapter long….it's only thing long because I wanted the first chapter to end where the original attempt at this story ended. So no, do not expect chapters that are this long...ever...lol
CHAPTER ONE
The popup box chimed with a new mail signal. Slowly, he clicked the mouse over the icon from one of his new followers. Eyes wide, he grinned slightly. It was all coming together, very quickly. After cracking his knuckles, the hunched, bespectacled man typed off a couple of quick words.
"I Accept."
With a smirk, he stretched out, the lights of the multiple computer monitors playing tricks off his face, his hunched back becoming a bit more prominent. Another chime emitted from the speakers, a dazzling array of financial information scrolling before his eyes as he clicked the mouse. With this new backer, he would quickly be able to realize his goals.
Before he could do that, however, he needed to hire some muscle. A quick search allowed him to find information on some soldiers of fortune; bounty hunters, mercenaries and the like. He found a forum fast enough, and also a help wanted section. With the speed of someone used to hacking deep into computer mainframes, he typed out a wanted ad and signed off with his main call sign.
Chief.
0316 - July 3rd, Thursday
Shrill screams echoed through the dark alleyway. Screams that dripped with torture and anguish. The flashlights of two police officers dimly held the image of a twisting grotesque form riddled with extensive cuts, the odd flash of bone visible through the pouring and pooling blood. Three medics worked desperately, going through gauze faster than they could retrieve it. One tried to seal a mask pumping Entonox in an attempt to calm the flailing enough that they could get the patient into the back of the ambulance, but through slipping in blood and the screaming his attempts were futile. One finished putting in a second IV, the first not enough; both wide open and pumping straight saline. The remaining medic was prepping the stretcher, his bald head glistening with rainwater as the storm clouds above pounded them with its cold contents. His head was almost as reflective as the neon high visibility jacket all of them were wearing.
"Craig, he's lost way too much blood," crimson eyes flicked up at the bald man, expression calm but desperate. "Fuck staunching the bleeding, we can keep trying in the rig. With all the rain nothing is going to clot even if it could."
"Dammit, alright, let's load him up."
"Here, let me help," one of the officer's piped up, shoving his still lit flashlight into his tact belt.
"Get the ambulance ready...back doors open and turn the engine back on," Craig suggested, taking the help gratefully. "If you can, back it up as close to us as possible."
"On it," the officer dashed off, catching the keys from Craig as he went, boots crunching against the wet asphalt fading with each step.
Removing his jacket Yami tossed it over the patient, even though the man was flailing he was going to at least attempt to get him warm. Under the light of the flashlight, he took hold of both bags of IV fluid and glanced between Craig - who was hooking his arms under the patient's knees - and Soren - still trying to hold the mask still.
"On your count Soren," Craig took the signal.
Nodding, Soren stared down at the patient, anguish-filled eyes watching him rapidly losing the strength to scream. "Alright Jack, we are going to lift you into the ambulance. Take a deep deep breath. One...Two…"
A sharp shrill gasp interjected, along with the clatter of metal as the flashlight dropped to the ground followed by the heavy thud of the officer holding it. As the flashlight rolled against his leg, Yami looked up as two men leaned over him and Craig, both extending the tasers in their hands preparing to strike. Catching sight of the one officer unconscious beside him he averted his eyes quickly, the lump form of the other officer by the open ambulance door obvious in the street lights. Relinquishing the IV bags, he felt his muscles move faster than his mind, eyes barely registering his surroundings as his body reacted on pure instinct.
Kicking out his leg a steel toe boot connected with a shin bone, causing a pained yell and for the owner to hunch over, straight down onto his extended elbow. Rising up, his elbow drove down into the back of the attackers head, smashing his balaclava covered face into the asphalt. The man groaned, but not in unconsciousness, hands flattening on the ground to slowly raise himself up.
Craig ducked, catching the whirl of Yami whizzing behind him along with the subsequence growl of the assailant as his attack was foiled. The patient began to wail again, this time with panic, his shock filled mind probably realizing his impending doom. Taking hold of the patient's legs, he yelled at Soren, "Three!"
Head shaking, attention snapping away from Yami, Soren gave a bobble of a nod and followed. Both hefted the patient up onto the stretcher and barrelled towards the back of the open ambulance. Raising the wheels of the stretcher they maneuvered it into the back, locking it into place. Without a word between them, Craig ran to the front to ignite the engine while Soren went about strapping the patient down.
Surprised by the strength being propelled against him from the smallest of the group, the assailant dropped the taser in place of his hands raising up to brace his back from slamming against the wall of the nearby building. It didn't help him, neither did his fists as he raised them in defense. His hands were viciously slapped away, the forearms of the medic blocking them with ease; with his center exposed two hard fists rammed into his stomach, hunching him over. He was forced lower, hands pushed him down into a rising knee, knocking the wind out of his lungs and dropping him to the ground in a groaning heap. Just as quickly, he felt his hands wrenched behind his back expertly then the cold metal of handcuffs clicking around his wrists signaled to his defeat.
Rising, breathing rapid, Yami first took in the other attacker rising to his feet then averted over to the ambulance. The roar of the engine told him that they had taken the hint, one was with the patient in the back while the other turned on the ambulance. He was drenched, a chill setting into his bones, causing him to shiver. Quelling it down, he returned his attention to the other attacker just as the man moved to swing at him.
Arm raising he blocked the wayward swing, cringing as his artificial shoulder jostled and shot pain into his neck and elbow. He was too cold to cushion the blow properly, that was going to swell like crazy and hurt like a bitch in the morning. Right hand snapping out he took hold of the attacker's wrist, hitting the pressure point dead on, his efforts rewarded with a hoarse cry. He, however, was not ready for the other arm careening at him. It connected with his exposed side, a grunt leaving him and he cradled the injury, willing letting go of the wrist he was squeezing. Snapping out his balled fist, right hand careening into the attacker's stomach, he tried to force the man to let go of him. The plan backfired. Hands gripped him and they were falling, both tumbling to the ground roughly. Relaxing he let the momentum move them till he eventually rolled on top, straddling the attacker's chest he pinned both of his hands with his knees, both of their breathing coming out in white puffs through the darkness and rain.
Seeing Yami and one of the attackers interlocked, Yami thankfully on top and pinning him, Craig scrambled from the ambulance and darted to the police officers. Both were stirring, the rain startling their senses. He needed them up and on their feet, and he needed them there now.
Gasping, Yami slumped over, both hands bracing on either side of the masked man's face and keeping him up. His heartbeat was in his ears as his eyes stared down furiously at the ones glaring at him mockingly through the balaclava.
Laughing, spluttering through the rain, the assailant grinned through his mask. "You must be Yami."
Eyes narrowed, "And how do you know me?"
"The Master described you well," head turning he could see the other medic helping up the two police officers. He was running out of time.
"The Master?"
"The Master wishes to intensify the star of life on your back, congratulate you on becoming a paramedic. He looks forward to the impending reunion."
Seeing Yami pale and freeze he laughed, taking advantage of Yami's lapse he rolled them. Rising to his feet he dashed over and helped his comrade to his feet then dragged him out of the alley, both at a breakneck sprint.
Hands gripped him, pulling him to his feet. Familiar ones this time. Gratefully taking hold of Craig's forearms he helped heave himself the rest of the way up, though he felt unstable, his knees were shaking and weak as was the rest of his body. Arms wrapping around himself he peered around, eyes trying to search every corner nearby. Sirens filled his ears, and an increase in flashing red and blue lights encompassed the alleyway.
"I called back-up," Craig expounded, barely gaining Yami's darting attention. "Soren's with the patient, get back there and help him, I'll drive."
When Yami didn't nod, instead his attention kept flickering around, Craig scowled. Officers poured into the alleyway, securing the corners and surrounding them while another unit whizzed past down the street in the direction the attackers had fled in. Intense shivering continued, Yami's eyes continuing to bounce around even though the area was secure. Jaw locking Craig ran through the words he heard the attacker say in his head, and everything clicked.
"Yami, he's in Ontario thousands of kilometers away. He can't hurt you."
Crimson eyes locked on Craig's pleading countenance, blinking away the heavy rain he bobbed his head. Fear was overtaking him, images of Alphonse was popping into every corner, his devilish grin and acid eyes illuminated by the flashing lights. "Uh huh."
"Shit," Craig cursed, seeing those eyes begin to dart around again, and ignoring the pestering police officers he forcefully slapped his pupil across the face. Yami stumbled but he held him up, when even then Yami refused to focus on him, he growled out. "Snap out of it kid. I need you to drive the rig to the hospital. Our patient is going to bleed out. Think about that sick bastard later, right now I need you to focus."
Blinking, barely registering the words, Yami blankly stared at Craig and bobbed his head. Stumbling away he clambered into the driver's seat of the rig, hands reached across him and clicked in his seat belt. Shaking his head, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, he forced his vision to focus on the road. Breathing still hoarse he gave another nod and shifted the ambulance into gear. His fears and paranoia needed to dissipate, they had no place in his mind right now.
"Foothills?"
"Yeah, already radioed ahead," called Soren from the back, his voice drowned out as Craig closed the driver's door then jumped into the back with him and slammed the ambulance doors shut.
Still shaking Yami flicked on the lights and sirens, the officers split and gave a path. Taking it, he guided the ambulance out onto the street, desperately trying to stay focused as he did so.
1900 - Seven District Office, Homicide Unit.
Dropping his keys on his desk with a loud clatter echoing with his deep yawn Bakura resisted the urge to say fuck it and go home.
The saying pouring rain did not even touch the torrential waves of water plummeting down from the sky; the only illumination outside beyond the barely visible street lights was when the lightning lit up the black clouds and the sodden city. Staring out the massive window in his office he barely registered Grey plopping down in his chair, haphazardly flicking on his computer with little grace.
Blinking and yawning again he turned to stare across at his partner, whom looked worse for wear. Aside from the severely dampened jacket and now greying chestnut hair, the bags under his soft hazel eyes showed severe lack of sleep.
Sighing Bakura slipped off his wet jacket and dropped it on the coat hanger nearby, shooting out his hand he watched Grey pull his own off with just as little dignity. Adding it to the dripping pile of sodden material on the coat hanger Bakura shuffled over to his desk and sat down with a dramatic exhale of relaxation.
It was moments like this that he wished he had taken one of those damn promotion offers. Over the year and a half since everything finally cleared up with the Caduceus Case, the court dates done and over with, he had been offered four times to take the Lieutenant position in charge of the major crimes unit. A cushy desk job that got to supervise and deal with the gang, homicide and drug units along with T.A.C.T. Unfortunately, testosterone told him he still needed to get his hands dirty and have a little bit longer under his belt as a detective before taking on such a position. But, again, days like this where he was called to haul his ass out of his warm house to sit in the rain for three hours of overtime looking at a body so riddled with shotgun wounds that even his dental records may not identify him was making him reconsider.
Glancing at his computer monitor he moaned at the time in the bottom right corner, "I could be home right now curled up in a nice warm bed!"
Grey glared at him, unimpressed, "Don't rub it in asshole. The faster we get that report typed, the faster we can get home. So lay off the chatter and start typing."
Sticking out his tongue Bakura cracked his fingers and began typing, keys clicking loudly and with no sense of rhythm. "You're one to talk, Scrooge."
A hesitant knock on the door lifted both of their somnolent heads, Anderson's chipper face greeting them. Bakura felt his eyebrow twitch giving away his attempts to keep himself from wiping the wide grin on his friends face. "And why the hell are you so chipper?"
"My, my, my, aren't we a friendly bunch," striding into the room he casually sat on the edge of Bakura's desk, grin still wide. "Did you two pretty ladies enjoy your shower together?"
"Don't push it, bucko," Grey warned.
Holding up his arms in surrender Anderson glanced backward at Bakura, "Heard it was a messy one."
"Very, the guy had nothing left of his face, fingertips were shaved off. The coroner was pissed, basically told us that when he calls us we had better have coffee as a peace offering."
"How many shots?"
Grey shrugged, "It was done by a shotgun. With how many holes were in him, at least ten. The witnesses that we talked to all lost count of the blasts they heard."
"Lovely. What about the perp, any ideas?"
Grey laughed wryly, "Fucker was hiding at the end of the alley, could not climb the fence before we got there. Two of the officers chased him for a few blocks after they found him cowering behind a dumpster."
"Nice! Gotta love idiots huh?"
"No offense, Anderson, but are you in here for a reason?" Bakura cut in, rubbing his temples against an oncoming headache.
"You know that other homicide downtown, the one where the guy was still alive this morning?" Face growing serious, all jest leaving him, Grey and Bakura nodded at him. "Well, the guy died in the hospital – obviously, considering it's a homicide; it sounds as if there was not much of a chance for him. Apparently, Yami, Soren, and Craig were the responders. Have you seen Yami at all today, or spoken to him?"
"Briefly, I woke up to get ready for work just as he crawled into bed, why?"
"Craig tapped Yami out; apparently he started being paranoid and was watching the alley around him like a hawk, stopped paying attention to the patient."
Sighing deeply Bakura leaned back in his chair, expression solemn, "I was wondering when that was going to happen. I am guessing now that when he texted me telling me he was going to talk to the EMS councilor it's to talk about last night. Rotten bugger."
Grey scratched his neck in thought, eyes downcast, "Well, we knew it was going to happen eventually when he decided to get back on the horse and take the pilot Paramedic program last fall. He's been stressed to the max getting this program done. That is a lot of material from a two-year program to cram into one. All things considered though, he's done way better than any of us have given him credit for. That call was a bad one apparently; at least that's what I heard."
Anderson nodded, "Talked to the officers on scene, they were pretty shaken up. The victim was still alive, screaming bloody murder, ripped apart with a machete five ways to Sunday. But, there's a little-added tidbit that I have a feeling Mr. Prideful will not mention."
"And that is?" Grey pressed.
"The scene wasn't initially as clear as it seemed. Two thugs showed up, knocked out the officer's on-scene, tasered the back of their necks. Yami fended them off until the backup Craig called for arrived. They bolted. And yes, Yami is fine, just a few bruises."
Seeing the placating hands Bakura tried to calm his breathing, resisting the urge to snatch up the phone and call his significant other screaming he grumbled, gaining Anderson's bemused attention. "You were grinning like a little boy who just got head for the first time, thought you were bringing in good news."
Unable to resist a soft laugh of amusement Anderson shook his head, a mischievous grin spreading. "I like keeping people on the edge."
Small smirks graced both detectives' features, bringing some life back to their faces. Yawning and stretching back languorously Grey let his seat drop back as far as it would go, arms hanging limply at his sides as soon as he finished stretching.
"My brain is poached…how the hell am I supposed to write a cohesive report like this." Seeing Anderson's hand suddenly waving in his face Grey scrambled upright in a not so graceful manner, taking the hint he scurried out of his chair, Anderson immediately taking it over.
"The hell are you doing?"
"Why don't you two just write a single report like most other detective teams do? You two tell me what happened, I will write it; you sign your names at the bottom and Bob's your uncle we are done. Sound like a deal? Keep it hushed by the way, I don't want to get in shit. But, I am a nice guy, and you two look like the grim reaper strung out on cocaine, and one of you needs to get home and ream someone out. Fire away, my charity will only last so long."
Chuckling lightly in reaction to Grey and Bakura scrambling over to him and quickly divulging the information he let his fingers fly over the keyboard. This was mostly a good excuse to take a break from staring at his computer monitor watching over those God-awful Alphonse worship sites he had been assigned to keep an eye on. Besides, his two friends did look dreadful and in dire need of some serious rest.
Within half an hour the report was done in pristine grammatical clarity, several bouts of laughter falling along the way as they sorted out incoherent sentences between each other. Clicking the 'save' button Anderson smirked up at his two friends, "Now that that is complete, do I have to escort you two pretty ladies down to your vehicles or do you think you can manage?"
"And what's the cost mister?" Grey teased.
"I like them bent over and dark-haired, grab-able asses too are nice, but small tits. Big ones are not as fun, especially when they hit you in the face."
"Glad neither of us fall under that criteria," laughed the white-haired detective, shaking his head in amusement he gathered up his still damp jacket from the coat hanger. "I'm pretty sure you have no patience with your whores"
"Hot, ready, no lube; best way to do it."
Snickering boisterously Grey gripped the edge of his desk, bending over with his fits of laughter, "You two are filthy minded, fucking hell."
"Ah, you love it. Now get out of here you two, you have nice beds and warm partners to cuddle, be gone you work-a-holics!"
Ushering Grey out the door Bakura glanced back at Anderson, "Thanks for helping, we owe you."
Sweeping his hands in a shooing motion Anderson smirked, "No worries, I will just take my payment in beer and food at the barbeque tomorrow. Now get going!"
2200 - Westhills Moxies
Impatiently he tapped his fingers on the table, flicking his wrist green eyes stared at the time. The bugger was ten minutes late, an oddity in and of itself. Unburying his phone – with a great amount of effort – from his pant pocket, he checked to see if he had received any messages.
Nothing, another oddity. Glancing around the bar he decided to double check that he had not walked right past him when he came in. It was a typical quiet Thursday night at Moxie's, there were three other tables, small groups of people with a few appetizers on the tables and drinks shared between.
Brow furrowing and a mildly concerned scowl forming he rubbed his hands together nervously, debating heavily to step outside and call his friend when said figure finally entered.
Crest of golden, ruby and ebony hair and rich crimson eyes made Yami stand out badly, he was easy to spot when he did not give two shits about who saw him. The dark tan he already had only intensified the color of his eyes and the bangs framing his face, his skin was almost the color of Garret's already, a few freckles noticeable on his bare arms. Though, with the darkness of flesh, came the intensity of the white scar on his friend's upper arm, a scar he had long given up being ashamed of and trying to cover. People were going to stare and wonder and he could care less if they did. Leather jacket in hand, shaking it slightly to get rid of some of the rainwater – Yami meandered up to him wearing a pair of dark jeans and a sleeveless shirt with the fleur de leis on it in a tasteful style.
Sitting down opposite him Yami glanced at him apologetically, "Sorry, took a little longer than expected."
Soren waved a dismissive hand at him, "No worries, I already ordered an appy for us. Do you want wine or beer?"
"Let's see what Sadie has for us tonight."
As if on cue a cute little dark-haired girl wandered up to them, holding two glasses of Euro lager in her one hand while the other balanced the plate of bread and dip in her other.
She winked at them both, placing the drinks and plate down on the table, "You both look like you could use a cold one, here's my suggestion for the night, thoughts?"
Soren and Yami both smiled at her, this was a place they frequented often, and she was always the bartender on shift. They had got to a point with her that they put their tastes in liquor and food almost completely up to her, she was a friendly girl and never pushed the usually overtly flirtation boundaries. The reason, she was good friends with Abby and knew both men outside of her job.
"Sounds fantastic, thanks, Sadie," tipping the beer at her in salute Yami took the first sip, she waited for the tradition nod of approval from both men before smiling and moving on to her other tables.
"So, how are you doing?" Soren questioned cautiously, eyes serious and concerned. "They barely touched you, but you're spooked as hell otherwise you would not have snapped into freaked out spidey mode."
Shrugging indifferently Yami took another swig of his beer, "Couple bruises. I'll be fine. Just wasn't expecting it, whoever called in said they hadn't witnessed anything, apparently, that was a load of shit."
Frowning Soren sighed and leaned back, "Did you turn yourself over to the nurses, or did Craig?"
"I did, have some confidence in me will you."
Hands up in surrender Soren leaned forward and took a piece of the bread, chewing on it lightly while he stated, "Just making sure that you are not reverting back to your stubborn self."
Reaching across the table Yami gripped Soren's wrist gently, sad crimson eyes staring at him forced Soren to look up and stop chewing, "I'm sorry. I'm not perfect."
Shoulders slouching, Soren swallowed and stared back at Yami apologetically, "I'm sorry; you just scared the shit out of me."
Smiling and giving Soren's wrist a gentle comforting squeeze Yami picked his beer back up, "Scared myself, can that make us even?"
Soren's laugh and playful slap to his arm gave him his confirmed acquiescence. "How's Izzy and Abby?"
"Isolde, typical little funny girl, she hasn't changed in the past four days since you saw her last. Abby is leaving tomorrow for her parents, she doesn't seem very excited anymore, and her Mom reamed her out on the phone today for not bringing Isolde. Apparently, until Abby screamed and forced her to transfer the phone to her father, her Mom was threatening to not let her come to visit them anymore."
"Sounds like her mom is still trying her plan of grandchild kidnapping and shunning you," Yami murmured.
"I'm just glad Abby has one hell of a backbone," Soren sighed dramatically, scrubbing his hand through his hair. "The damn woman is a lunatic; even Abby's Dad admits to it, it's why he moved them to Newfoundland, keep the crazy lady from doing stupid shit."
"Well, at least her Dad is still normal." Soren snorted wryly, shaking his head, Yami smirked at him. "Only one messed up relative, you've got it lucky. I've got three."
"Well, two that you speak to you, Gabe still has you permanently on his abandoned list. Bakura's parent's still finding bizarre ways to get a hold of your phone numbers?" Catching Yami's less than impressed expression Soren cringed. "Well, at least they have not figured out your house address."
"Give them time, they'll find out somehow," Yami grinned wryly, taking a large gulp of his nearly gone beer.
"And when they do, will you sit down and have tea and biscuits?"
Yami shrugged indifferently, expression annoyed, "They can go fuck themselves if they think their stoned drunken asses are stepping one foot in my house."
"Is Mike still up north?"
"Yeah, should be home in a couple of days if this hole goes right."
"When is he going to retire from working in the field?"
"Who knows, the man is built like a brick shit house and is stubborn as a mule."
"We still on tomorrow for that BBQ? Abby seems really excited about it, some fun before the storm."
"Yep, I'll watch Izzy while you do it, save you having to pack her up in the car just to come back. Are you still helping me with the food in the morning?" Getting another nod Yami watched absently as Sadie came over and switched out their drinks for fresh ones before reverting back to Soren. Tapping his index finger on the top of his bottle he scowled, something felt off and unlike the other night, it was not just him in panic mode.
Soren noticed it too, expression growing serious and brow quirking, "Spidey senses tingling?"
"Yep," Yami murmured, pursing his lips together, resisting the urge to look around. "Something is off, doesn't feel dangerous though, I do not feel the need to run or put a guard up. Relax, whoever it is does not seem to have any want to harm us or we would have been approached already."
"Mhm," immediately distracted Soren pointed at the bread and dip. "Are you even going to touch this?"
Waving at him to go ahead Yami drank back his beer, "I'm not hungry."
"Appetite still spoiled?" Soren questioned, picking up another piece of the bread and mowing it down, licking his fingers afterward with satisfaction, grinning like a fool at Yami's amused smirk.
"Yes, a little, mostly I think it is because of the ass kicking I went through with Gage a few hours ago, stomach still has not untwisted from the elbow I did not cradle properly."
"You have abs of steel, what's the problem?"
"Still hurts to get hit dumbass."
"Someone is sensitive."
"Want to test this theory out?" Submissive hands shot up, mouth full of bread, causing Yami to drop his head back with mirth and soft laughter. Spotting Soren's already empty beer, and his second pretty darn close he laughed again. "We had better drink some water if we have any hope of driving home in an hour."
Soren blinked then looked down at his drink, lip popping out in a dramatic pout, "But...but beer!"
"Just stop," Yami laughed, keeping himself as composed as possible when Soren began stroking his beer bottle. "There are so many things wrong with this picture. Seriously Soren, water only!"
"But…beer…it feels lonely in my tummy, it wants more buddies."
"Let me guess, you taxied down with the full intent of making me drive you home, is that right?"
A bright grin and furious nod made Yami laugh again. "Glutton."
"Haha! You love it!"
"Just shut up, I thought you said the beer in your gut was lonely."
Soren pursed his lips in a bizarre manner, contemplating before calling Sadie over, "One beer for me and water for this lovely DD across from me."
She shook her head, a wide smile, before walking away.
Relaxing back Soren folded his hands behind his head, grinning goofily at Yami.
"I have you wrapped around my baby finger."
"Don't push your luck."
0016 - Bakura and Yami's Home.
Creaking the front door open Yami barely avoided Reno as he greeted him, warm wet tongue and all. Petting Reno with one hand – with his buttock against the wall for balance – while haphazardly removing his shoes and tossing them on the boot rack beside the door. A soft mewing nearby signaled Ninja, their pure black and stealthy addition to the family. The six-month-old kitten was energetic as sin, and his favorite target to torment was Bakura; especially first thing in the morning when he had no sense of wherewithal.
Kneeling down he lifted the cat into his arms and let him relax over his shoulder, standing back up he draped his sopping wet jacket on the coat hanger and shoved his workout duffle bag through the office door beside him. One hand remained down, resting on Reno's head he meandered into the house, thankful for the large windows which allowed thick amounts of street light to filter in and illuminate all the trip hazards around him.
Seeing the time on the stove he cringed, him and Soren had gone a lot later than he had expected; it was nearly midnight. With all the lights out and no signs of life, he could guess that Bakura was already in bed. Being as quiet as he could he made his way into the bedroom, leaving the door ajar just enough that the animals could get in and out as they wished. Placing Ninja on the bed he slowly started to divest himself of his damp clothes, placing them in the hamper by feel.
In just his boxers he started to make his way towards the bathroom when the side table lamp suddenly flick on, scaring him half to death and making him stumble, bewildered ruby eyes locking with Bakura's amused russet ones.
Gaining his balance Yami blushed darkly and glared, a look that had no force behind it, especially when Bakura gave him his traditional lustful grin and appreciatively looked up and down. Huffing Yami sent another glare at the detective then strode into the bathroom, unable to resist the shiver that hungry look sent down his spine.
"Asshole."
Quirking a brow in amusement Bakura got up from the bed. He had seen that telltale shiver; loving how all he had to do was look at him a certain way and Yami would crumble. Purposefully dropping his half of the covers on the devious cat that was curled up beside him, gaining a rather colorful hiss and a vast amount of struggling in response he grinned and followed his partner. Striding into the bathroom, his fluorescent boxers painful to the eyes, he spotted Yami washing his face at the sink. Leaning against the wall he waited while the EMT finished up his nightly regime, staying out of the way just enough to enjoy the view and making sure his partner knew he was there.
Yami had added a housecoat to cover himself up, just to torment him and he knew it. But, he already knew the view underneath and could picture it quite easily, clothing be damned. He could tell that Yami felt his scrutiny because the redness in his face continued to darken as he brushed his teeth and he was trying his best not to look over at him.
Two and a half years together and Yami still retained his innocence and uncertainty, qualities that drove Bakura mad, stirring sensations and desires within him that no one else could. He thrived for it; having his partner writhing beneath his fingers and lips, crying out for him, completely submissive to his will. Only he got to see that side of him, got to control him and drive him wild with pleasure, only he could dominate the young man. He lived for that ability to be able to dominate someone as powerful, strong-willed, and determined as Yami was. But, even more, he was driven by the need to see the devotion, love, and desire within dark ruby eyes.
Finally cracking Yami put away his toothbrush and glared at him, blush and all, "Do you mind?"
"Not at all."
"Pervert," Yami scoffed, unsuccessfully trying to compose himself, giving up he finished cleaning his teeth and brushed past Bakura heading into the bedroom. "Get your mind out of the gutter for once!"
"I am allowed to both visually and physically ravage you all I want, it's the contract you signed when you decided one - to be with me, two - to be intimate with me, and three - to be only mine."
Stopping in his tracks Yami peered back at Bakura, slightly mortified but more stirred by the possessive tone, before catching his breath. He had not paid much attention to the detective, who had swooped behind him, strong hands gliding around his waist seductively. Fingers tangling in the housecoat tie made Yami shoot his hands down, gripping Bakura's wrists and shivering as the man's toned body pressed flush against his back. Another shiver rippled through him when warm lips whispered in his ear, "Relax Yami, I can tell you're too tired for this."
"I'm sorry..."
Catching the tightness in the tone Bakura rested his head on Yami's shoulder, questing hands decided to hold him gently, glad when smaller hands relaxed over his. "Anderson told me about your call last shift."
Trembling Yami pressed a kiss against the detective's jaw, "How much did he tell you…?"
"That you panicked, I mean two idiots tried to attack you so that probably didn't help, but," he said quietly, Yami tensed in his arms, sighing he nuzzled his lovers neck soothingly. "Supposedly you kicked their asses and they ran."
"Not going to rip me a new one?"
"What's the point, it's not like you were going to tell me about it. Will you at least be honest and tell me that physically you are alright?"
Flinching against the sting of those words, he bowed his head. "Bruises, joints are sore and swollen, that's it."
Hearing the honestly, Bakura gave a small nod. "Were you thinking about him?"
"I…" A deep sigh cut in, Yami easing his shaking breath, refraining from exposing one portion of the night while letting the rest slip. "Yes, I was. I felt like he was there watching us, even after the fuckerser's ran off. It's ridiculous; he's thousands of kilometers away contained behind bars."
"There was a man screaming in pain under your hands, hacked apart by some maniac, then you had two fucktards try and attack you. That would spook anyone."
Yami shrugged, "Most normal people would have calmed down after backup arrived. There were six cops there Bakura, I was beyond safe, and again Alphonse is in prison. Even still, I couldn't shut my brain off and focus."
"Stop berating yourself, you kept Soren and Craig safe, and most importantly yourself," Bakura said gently, hands moving back down to untying the housecoat. Finished he tenderly eased it off and dropped it to the floor beside them. Delicately he ran cold digits over Yami's back, tips of his fingers ghosting over the smooth white scar of the star of life on his lovers back before both hands rested on shivering hips, his lips pressed against a tense swollen shoulder in a tender kiss. Eyes wandering he could see the bruises forming on tanned forearms and right side, though the angriest one was on his upper arm; he could tell that one was not from a blow but in reaction to the joint not reacting properly. Calming the fury rising in him from them, he focused on Yami's crumbling resolve under his ministrations.
"I'd like to say that Alphonse will eventually disappear from your mind, but I highly doubt it. I can also say that I hope you never get into another situation where you have to fight someone off, but I cannot guarantee that. However, what I can do, is I can assure you that panicking and being afraid is far healthier than bottling everything up to the point of distraction. I'd rather you be afraid and on alert, then let your guard down and allow some random gangster wannabe to hurt you. Even if it means one moment of thinking about...him...then I would rather you did and be terrified."
Mind going foggy, the pleasured ripples coursing over his skin from those deft digits against his hips and the soft lips assaulting his neck, he tightly clenched Bakura's wrists in an attempt to stay focused. "I do not want to give him the satisfaction."
"Fuck him," Bakura growled, his one hand tightening its hold on a trembling hip while the other snapped up to encompass his partner's aquiline jaw, forcing crimson eyes to finally lock with his. "He will never touch you again."
Jaw locking, Yami groundout. "Even so, I do not want to give him the space within my mind to fester. One ounce of fear still buried within me is still giving him control. I can't…"
"You're going to have to learn," Bakura interjected harshly. Feeling every single muscle in Yami's body tighten he berated himself, he was taking his frustration on hearing those repeated words out on his partner instead of soothing him. This was a conversation that had had multiple times, each time ending and starting very differently, but it had been a constant for nearly a year after the incident. Forcing his tone to soften, hand releasing Yami's jaw to tenderly run the back of his fingers over it instead. "Part of you will never relinquish what happened, and there is nothing wrong with that. The only way you could ever dispel him from your mind is by destroying yourself, and in doing that you will let him win."
Tense, heart rate through the roof and breath strained, Yami rasped out. "I don't want him to have any part of me, not even the dark corners of my mind. His mark on my back is enough...he won't own another piece of me."
Unable to withhold the furious and possessive growl, Bakura spun Yami around one hand tightly fisting in ebony and crimson locks at the nape of his neck while his other arm crushed him against his chest. He could feel Yami's heart pounding, the tightness of his muscles, along with every ounce of fear and panic wafting off of him.
"He does not own you. Your mind and body belong to you, and you alone. Your heart is mine, and I'll be damned if that fucker tears that away from us. That mark means nothing, just that sick bastards way of fucking with your mind." Hands reaching up and gripping his upper arms forced Bakura to exhale a calming breath, absorbing the self-loathing and pain burning within ruby eyes, the sight nearly making his knees buckle and the rage to swell within him. Tears swelled within those eyes, crumbling him, tightly enveloping Yami he bit his lip when tear-dampened cheeks buried themselves against his chest.
"What if he gets out...what if that lingering fear stops me from fighting…"
"Love," voice pleading, Bakura interjected, pulling back just enough to stare down into panicked eyes. "You are ten times stronger than you will ever give yourself credit for. No single part of you will give up without a fight. You're the bravest person I know, and no one can take that away from you. I wish you could see what I see."
Voice strained, Yami ducked his eyes away, resting his forehead against Bakura's pectorals. "And if that's not enough if he overpowers me again?"
"That is a big 'if'. But, if the fucker somehow manages to get free and comes after you I know he will not be able to handle you the way you are now. He would need an army to hold you down."
"What if he does what he did last time and kills those stopping him from getting to me," Yami murmured, arms encircling Bakura's waist and holding him desperately. "I can't lose you..."
Sighing, Bakura pursed his lips, "You'll never lose me. Nothing will ever take me away from you. Not even him."
"He's stronger than you."
"My rage and love for you are ten times stronger. Nothing will stop me from protecting you and being with you. Nothing Yami, do you understand me?"
Breath hitching Yami allowed the strong hands to pull him closer, one tilting his head up as lips descended on his own, pulling him into the intense kiss. He caved, mind going numb and discarding everything he allowed Bakura to devour him. The overwhelming pleasure, and the words swelling his heart distracting his scattered mind, sharply bringing into forefront the man holding him. A gasp left him, the detective's tongue requesting access then delving deeply to taste him. Desperately holding onto strong broad shoulders, he mewled from the sensation of deft hands drifted down his sides then cupping his buttocks possessively, those hands rapidly becoming the only thing holding him up as his knees buckled. Loud panting reached his ears, his own breathing, barely registering that Bakura had pulled back and was now nuzzling his lips. Blearily he peered up into russet eyes that took hold of him.
"You're my everything; nothing will take you away from me, and nothing will ever get between us. Understood?"
Swallowing hard, the words sinking hard within him and chased away any lingering fear at the forefront of his mind. Shakily nodding, unable to speak, he gave his silent answer.
Grinning, Bakura inclined his head signaling towards their bed, "Now, get in that bed so I can cuddle you. You might be too tired to ravage, but no part of you will resist my epic cuddles."
"Sure, we'll go with that," Yami sighed softly with a smile, groaning when Bakura stepped away and deprived him of desperately needed contact, the devilish wink of victory from the detective creasing his elation into an annoyed frown.
Ninja was still a black ball of hissing and scratching fury as he continued to struggle to find the exit from underneath the covers. After glaring back at Bakura, whom shrugged with a sly grin; Yami untangled the cat and placed him on his pillow, said kitten immediately began to purr happily and curled up into a ball. Pulling the sheets onto himself Yami nestled down, Ninja nuzzling his head and Reno quietly found his own bed by the nightstand and curled up with a huff. Bakura slipped onto the bed gracefully, flicking off the light before easing up behind him and snaking one arm under his neck and the other around his waist to hold him tight. Relaxing Yami smiled and gripped each hand tenderly, entwining their fingers together as he melted under the sensation of Bakura's soft lips kissing his neck and shoulder.
"Love you."
"Love you too."
Thursday, July 4th – 0530
The alarm came too early, and so did Ninja's unwelcomed kneading claws on his feet. Yelping, Bakura sat straight up in bed, cringing when the alarm went off at the same time and Yami stirred beside him. Snarling at the cat he kicked it off the bed with a loud feline protest and slammed his hand down on the ringing instrument beside him with vengeance. With a pathetic groan, Yami rolled over and curled up against him, one hand snaking over his thighs.
"Don't hurt Ninja," was the pitiful and half asleep retort.
Unable to resist the warm smile that crossed his lips, Bakura ran his digits through Yami's messy tri-colored spikes. It was rare to see Yami this groggy, and he loved every moment of it. It was something only he got to see, and he was perfectly content hogging it.
"Go back to sleep, it's way too early for you to be up."
"Time for work?" A soft yawn followed, then Yami peeked his eyes open and peered up at him through the darkness, eyes functioning just enough that he could make out Bakura's face in the gloom.
"Yes, now go back to sleep, you need the rest," with that he placed a tender kiss against Yami's lips and rolled out of bed, gently covering his already unconscious again lover with its warmth. Smile still radiant on his face he softly brushed a golden bang out of Yami's face, when the only reaction was a shiver he confirmed that the EMT was back asleep.
Meandering into the bathroom he started his morning regime of showering, getting dressed, letting Reno out, then enjoying his morning coffee while he threw leftovers into a bag for lunch and mowed down a simple breakfast. Reno aimlessly followed him for a little while, until he huffed with annoyance and disappeared into the bedroom, probably to curl up with Yami on the bed. Watching the dog evanescence Bakura shrugged and chugged back the last of his coffee.
Glancing outside he sighed with relief. It had stopped pouring sometime while they were sleeping, the sun was already starting to peek over the world, teasing it with its warmth. He grinned, so long as the weather held like the forecast said, it was supposed to be a gorgeous summer day, perfect for the planned barbeque.
Gathering up his gear he trudged through the kitchen and into the expansive pantry, passing through there into the mudroom he slipped on his shoes and meandered out into the garage. His baby was parked in her full red glory. In the two years, he had owned this truck he had done little to change it, appreciating Garret's taste. All he added, covering the entire back window, was a custom grim reaper painting specialty done with bright red eyes glaring darkly. He loved it, Yami always made the comment of it being ridiculously tacky, but he still thought the truck was.
With that thought, he glanced over at Yami's newest baby. He had been driving his mother's CR-V. That was, however, before Bakura totaled it two months ago while his truck was getting the window painting done. Now, a fully loaded Jeep Wrangler Rubicon black as night with black leather interior took up the space. Bakura had to admit, it was a thing of beauty, but he would never vocalize that to Yami.
Opening the garage door he clambered into his truck, backing it out of the driveway he made his way to work through morning traffic. He was thankful for the transfer he, Grey and Anderson had requested; all three of them now were stationed out of Seven District office. A less than fifteen-minute drive in bad traffic, if he was desperate for exercise it was a thirty-minute run. He only did that on weekends or Monday; it was the few days where there was not a lot of traffic in the building and he did not have to fight for one of the showers in the facilities gym.
Finding a parking spot with ease in the private outdoor parkade he made his way into the massive building. Having seen Anderson's vehicle in the parking lot he, after dumping his stuff in his office, made two cups of black coffee in the lunchroom. Knowing Anderson the man was almost completely finished his first cup. Balancing the two cups he wandered casually over to said individuals office.
Gently easing the door open he stared into the silent room, blinds closed to keep the reflection off the computer monitor down, keeping the room dim and almost dungeon-esque. Anderson's brow was deeply furrowed, face illuminated by the computer screens, eyes narrowed in concentration and what looked like concern. Bakura waited in the door for a minute waiting for acknowledgement, when Anderson did not even flinch he quirked a brown and strode in. The click of the coffee mug touching the desk startled Anderson, the detective flailing and staring up at Bakura in shock.
"Morning sunshine."
Scratching his neck and suppressing a sudden yawn Anderson nodded at him, gratefully taking hold of the coffee, "Morning, the fuck are you doing here so early?"
"It's 6:45."
Spluttering Anderson glanced at his computer monitor, cursing colorfully he slurped back a large amount of coffee, "When the fuck did it get this early."
Quirked brow raising more Bakura's mind suddenly clicked, "Wait…you never went home did you…" Anderson sheepishly shook his head, at that moment Bakura noticed the intense hollowness to his friend's eyes and the day old wrinkled clothes. "What the hell kept you so late?"
Pointing at his computer Anderson sighed deeply, the concerned furrow returning to his features, "Weird ass activity on this website, the most active Alphonse worshiping one. The Flock."
"What kind of weird activity?"
Coming around Bakura peered over Anderson's shoulder. Russet eyes grazed over the information before him, images of Alphonse were all over the webpage, pictures mostly from the media, others were probably hacked images. Underneath the blood red title, were the words 'The Shepherd will lead his Flock to the Righteous ways, and Open our Eyes to the Truth.' Bakura scowled, sickened, he had stopped looking at these sites for a reason. The website was full of forums and random central postings by an individual with the callsign of Chief0122. He seemed to be the ringleader, probably the creator of the website, or so they had guessed when the site was created during the media circus leading up to the trial.
Anderson shrugged, "This one post that this Chief0122 made, it's set me off, and all the posts there afterward have been odd. Dunno, maybe I'm paranoid."
"What was the post?" He remained quiet for a moment while Anderson scrolled to it, tapping on the screen to confirm which one it was. Squinting Bakura read it aloud. "The Shepherd will soon greet his Flock, the metal bars and concrete blocks around him will no longer confine him from teaching us the path to righteousness. Those abusing their medicinal powers and status will no longer be able to dodge their sin. Our master will make them suffer and pay for the pain they have inflicted upon the innocent."
"Fucked huh?"
"That's putting it mildly; this is definitely a fanatics website. All they have been doing through this entire time is posting shit on this site, they have not been tied to any crimes right?"
Anderson shook his head, one hand scratching the side of his face, "So far no, but this post is giving me a bad feeling. I don't know, again maybe I am overreacting, but I am starting to wonder if these guys are close to crossing that boundary line."
"You have a dummy account on here right?"
"Yep."
"Maybe sign up for the recruitment thing they have up top, or have you already?"
"Not through this computer, too dangerous. I think the guy that created this website is damn good with computers, might be able to figure out that I am a cop. Besides, that is more for the undercover unit, I am no longer doing that shit for a reason, it's too dangerous for my liking."
"It's not serious enough yet for you to hand it off to the organized crime unit is it?"
"Nope."
"Sounds like you are shit out of luck for now until they actually do something," Bakura murmured, sipping his coffee and glancing down at his torpid friend. "Maybe you should get some grub and sleep, could call Grey and tell him to hit Timmy's for breakfast and decent coffee. Then send your ass home for some shuteye afterward."
Sighing deeply Anderson nodded, downing the rest of his caffeinated happiness, "That sounds wonderful. Give him a shout; I've got cash I'll pay him when he gets here."
Patting his friend's shoulder with a grin Bakura flipped out his cell phone and stepped out into the hallway to make the call. Anderson quietly watched him then glanced back at the computer, glaring hard at the messages below the post. He did not like it, it all read as coded conversations between several individuals organizing something, it had long since crawled up his skin and vibrated there, causing him severe discomfort and worry.
He was tempted to fire an email off to the current acting Lieutenant of the Major Crimes Unit, the glorified babysitter until Bakura hauled his procrastinating behind over to the position. The idea of sleeping on it settled, not very well mind you, in his stomach and he minimized the screen so he was no longer staring at the webpage.
Rubbing his chin in thought he leaned back in his chair. This was not sitting well, and instincts were telling him to do something. But, at the same time, he knew lack of sleep could cloud his judgment pretty well. He would sleep on it, if it still bothered him, he would bring it up with the acting lieutenant and with Grey and Bakura, make something happen about it.
When Bakura meandered back in he put on a smile, knowing full well he was not hiding his jadedness well, but he also knew it was why Bakura was not leaving him alone. He was grateful for it, otherwise his obsessing may have worsened. In the bottom of his stomach, he hoped he was just over analyzing, but the rest of him was on high alert, and that was beating him viciously over the head with an impending problem. One thing he had learned hard and fast working with Garret was to trust your instinct, it saved your ass more often than anything else in this line of work.
Grey arrived fairly quickly; interject in the minor conversation Bakura had struck up with Anderson to distract him by dropping the bags of food on the desk with a wide grin. For the moment, Anderson could forget about what was on his mind while the three mowed down their breakfast –in Bakura's case, second breakfast – and chugged back their coffees before the morning chaos began in the homicide unit.
Panorama Hills, Calgary – 1315
From a few houses down the block, Soren could smell the enticing aroma of food permeating from Yami's house, along with hearing the music playing. He shook his head with a grin, Slipknot was blaring from the house, but not loud enough for a noise complaint. Yami definitely did not fit in with this neighborhood well, it was ritzy-ville where all the wives were either housewives that spent their days at the spa or worked high-end corporate jobs. The husbands were businessmen that spent half their time traveling; making it so that the children were raised by nannies and a housecleaning service did all the house maintenance. Yami despised all of that, avidly doing all the housework and yard work mostly by himself unless Mike was home. He also firmly believed in 'normal' social gatherings at his house, that's why they had a massive fire pit in the backyard surrounded by wood benches, along with a sprawling deck extending out from the main floor covering the patio below and the walkout basement entrance.
Having transited here Soren had taken the leisure walk up the block to his friend's house with an amused grin, especially when the music reached his ears. By that he could tell that Yami was probably outside, so bypassing the front door he meandered around the side of the house to the fence gate. Unlatching it he stepped in, immediately being greeted by Reno bounding around the corner, tongue, and tail wagging happily. Kneeling down quickly to vigorously pet Reno, along with ruffle his fur in bizarre directions, Soren's blissful smile widened and he wandered around the corner.
He stopped just under the deck, relishing in the shade, the heat of the day was blazing and wonderful but he could already feel his skin burning. He shook his head spotting Yami out in the middle of the yard; topless, barefoot and wearing only a pair of runners knee-length shorts he was stretching in the scorching sun, not seeming to mind it at all.
Since he had seen him last night Yami had already tanned more, making Soren insanely jealous because all he could seem to do so far this summer was burn. With that in mind, Soren could guess that Yami had been up for hours, had probably already done his hour-long run. He also knew that yoga, if that's what all this back-bending and contorting is, was Yami's version of calming and stress relief after he learned the hard way that a punching bag just made him angry instead of relieved. Abby had introduced him to it, and though Soren was thankful - and he guessed Bakura was for other reasons - part of him could not twist his mind around the absurd movements.
Soren scratched his neck, expression perturbed but amused as Yami arched back into a perfect bridge, crimson eyes finally locking on him.
"You're fucked up, you know that right?"
"Why?" Shifting his weight on his hands Yami flipped his body then stood upright gracefully, staring back at Soren over his shoulder while dusting off his hands then pulled his Celtic knot necklace out of his back pocket and draped it around his neck, the silver glistening brightly in the sun.
Soren quirked a brow, single hand flailing at him dramatically, "Because of stuff like that...that's not natural. Even Abby can't do that and she's a yoga instructor."
"Martial arts - I will always have one leg up on her in the contortion department. And, by the way, it's very natural, it's called stretching," Yami teased, grabbing a towel from one of the wood benches by the fire pit and began to wipe himself off.
Catching Soren sticking his tongue out at him Yami laughed. "I'm the gibbled one and I can do it, what's your excuse."
Soren kept his tongue out and lifting one hand pulled down his lower eyelid in a very childish and strange funny face, Yami laughed at him more and he let his face return to normal. "I have no motivation to be an extreme body contortionist and athlete like you are, I am perfectly content being in decent enough shape not to get flabby."
Coming underneath the deck Yami turned off the stereo nearby and draped the towel over his shoulders, "Thirsty?"
"Only if it's beer."
Yami grinned, "Didn't have enough last night?"
Following his friend into the cool basement Soren shrugged nonchalantly, Yami glancing back at him as they went up the stairs, "One can never have too much beer." Yami merely laughed again, moving rapidly to the kitchen he opened the fridge and handed Soren one of the already very cold beverages. Looking the bottle over Soren nodded appreciatively. "Sap Vampire Maple Lager, where did you find this?"
"Superstore, shockingly," Yami stated, pulling out his own along with a pear which he promptly mowed down.
A very loud meow sounded from the ground, and it was Soren's only warning. Ninja used him as a climbing post, rapidly launching at his waist them pulling himself up till he was perched rather happily on his shoulder. Ninja did not seem to notice the pain he caused because he was purring loudly and rubbing against Soren's head. Yami tried to stifle laughter, covering it up by hastily eating the rest of his pear as Soren glared at him.
"This cat is evil."
"He only tortures you and Bakura because you let him," Yami coughed against further laughter as Ninja launched off of Soren onto the nearby cat post, creating more hisses of pain from the EMT.
"Hardy har, funny guy," Soren grumbled, taking a long sip of his beer and leaning against the counter. "Alright, I came here for food prep, what do we got?"
"Fire up the barbeque I guess, the ribs and pork shoulder have to slow cook for about four hours," murmured Yami before opening the fridge and kneeling down, back to Soren as he pulled out said massive containers of marinated meat.
At that moment Soren got a good look at the barely visible star of life on Yami's back. He had to commend Dr. Ryant, the creams he used made it so the scar was a barely visible white symbol; it was noticeable, but it did not stand out like a sore thumb. Really, only four of Yami's injuries had become glaringly noticeable scars. The one on his arm where the crowbar had hit him, you could see exactly where the crowbar impacted and then the trail of ripped flesh and torn muscle. No amount of plastic surgery was going to make that one pretty; along with the cross-shaped incisions on his knees and the spot on his chest where the bullet had entered his torso. The rest of the incisions on his chest, shoulder, knees, and stomach were small lines barely noticeable unless you really looked for them.
Ryant - and the other surgeons - had done a damn fine job; it made Yami's recovery that much easier. He was glad that only one of the scars really caused insecurity, and that was one Bakura had persistently beaten into Yami's head was not ugly; though it had taken a year after the incident to be able to convince said, young man, that walking around shirtless was not going to burn people's retinas.
Rising up Yami passed off one of the large containers, pulling Soren out of his trance. The EMT shook his head at him, expression knowing, "I know your Mom taught you better than to rudely stare."
Taking the container Soren shrugged sheepishly, "Sorry, was more admiring how well they all have faded, even with how tanned you are they look good."
Glancing down at the scars Yami nodded, crimson eyes growing distant for a moment before snapping up, smiling tightly the EMT nodded and headed out to the deck. "Yeah, they faded pretty well, for horrid grotesque scars."
"Sorry," Soren mumbled, walking behind him, head down. Receiving a playful slap he stumbled and lifted his head, Yami was giving him a genuine smile, allowing his shoulders to relax in relief. "No death threats?"
Sliding open the back door Yami stepped out onto the deck and moved up to the barbeque, taking the container from Soren he went about putting the two things of meat on the massive barbeque before turning on the propane and putting the temperature on low. When finished he diverted back to Soren, ruby eyes tired, "Just, having a rough few days, that's all."
"At least you're honest," leaning against the railing Soren narrowly avoided being tripped by Reno as the dog bounded up the stairs and onto the deck. Giving the dog a death glare he peered at Yami, who was moving up beside him. "Though, I'd really like to know why those two thugs got you so spooked?"
"You saw the patient Soren, we haven't seen anything…anyone…that maimed since the crime scene photos Bakura and Grey had of the last three victims. And the screams were just like the night we entered that hotel. Those two gangster wannabe's showing up just frazzled my already torched nerves."
Sighing deeply Yami crossed his arms on the railing and rested his head on them, staring out at the yard and then beyond to Stoney trail, shrugging through the cold disturbed chill that ran through him. He hated lying to Soren but there was no way he could tell him the truth, not without Soren telling Bakura and that was the last thing he needed right now.
"Sounds logical," Soren agreed, copying Yami and watching the cars pass by on the ring road. "Is that the entirety of your reasoning though?"
Spotting Yami nod mutely Soren exhaled deeply and gently elbowed his friend. "Not going to tell me the truth."
"I've told you it."
Expression softening Soren stared at Yami, wine colored eyes peering peripherally at him, "Seriously Yami, I know you're lying. That one said something to you, and that's what spooked you."
Stretching, arms rising in the air and back arching Yami stepped away from the railing, eyes still locked with Soren's, "I don't remember, but yes, that's what truly triggered it. Everything else just amplified it."
"That's only the half truth."
"Yep."
Deciding to change the subject, especially when Yami's demeanor shifted Soren placed his hands on Yami's back and directed him back into the house, back to their beers. He could push him later into talking, right now was not the time.
"Is it too early to put together the side dishes."
Appreciating the diversion, attention averting back, Yami chuckled and shook his head, "We can prep everything, but there is no point cooking anything till about three thirty."
"Hack up the veggies here we go!" Springing into the kitchen Soren pulled out the knives and cutting board, a Cheshire grin crossing his face goofily, Yami had to grip the counter to steady himself he was laughing so hard. "Dibs out on the onions."
"Oh no, you don't!"
"Don't make me go kung fu on your ass, I dibbed out, tough shit," came the giggled reply.
Placing the objects in hand on the counter he reacted barely in time to Yami opening the fridge and tossing the copious amount of vegetables at him. He fumbled, spending more time laughing then successfully catching said flying objects the two of them shook their heads at each other calling a silent truce. The vegetables began to be gently handed over, Soren able to keep up with ease while they continued recovering from their laughter.
Once Soren had the vegetables haphazardly organized on the counter Yami sauntered behind him, snagged his nearly forgotten beer and dived to the other side of the counter, planting himself firmly on one of the bar stools. "If you dibs out on the onions, I dibs out on the rest of the veggies."
Jaw dropping Soren stammered out, waving the knife in hand at Yami's amused face, "Heck no! Cheater!"
Sticking his tongue out Yami darted back away from the swinging knife, grinning brightly at his friend while casually sipping his beer, "You started it."
After pouting – and crying from the damned pungent veggies - Soren made it through the leeks and zucchini before Yami came over and shared the rest of the duties prepping everything for the evening. Through much lounging around and wasting time they chatted back and forth before hunkering down at three thirty precisely and cooked the pasta and rice dishes along with pulling out the other marinated meats from the fridge. With everything set up and ready to go out on the deck Yami left Soren alone with it all and dashed inside for a shower, five o'clock had come fast and people were going to be arriving momentarily.
When he came back out in a pair of simple cargo shorts, flip-flops and t-shirt he was met by most of his friends already packed into the backyard. Blinking he closed the screen door to the patio keeping Ninja firmly locked in the house he made his way to the barbeque. Alex was standing there minding it while Eric and Soren drooled nearby; both were being kept at bay by the large tongs in Alex's expert hands. Yami's hand on his back made him snap his head sideways, puffing out his cheeks dramatically.
"These buggers are vultures."
Grinning and taking the tongs from Alex, Yami popped open the barbeque, letting the wondrous smell waft over the group, checking the meat he shook his head. "It's not ready yet, why don't you two go and start the fire?"
With dramatic pouts and Eric giving out a dramatic puppy whine the two men disappeared down the stairs to the yard.
Alex chuckled, winking at Yami, "Nice, I should have thought of that."
"Who else is here already?" he questioned, deciding then to start putting the burgers on the grill along with the chicken legs. When that was done he transitioned the ribs and the pork shoulder out onto plates with Alex's assistance, then set about putting the peppers and corn in the now cleared areas of the massive barbeque.
"Crissy and Russell, Kieran I think too I just don't know where he disappeared to. Abby and Izzy are down at the fire with Eshe and Grey's munchkins. Aside from our detective friends, who else is coming that we are waiting for?"
Closing the barbeque Yami pondered for a moment, gaze thoughtful then he shrugged, "Craig can't come; aside from Kura', Grey and Anderson I think that's everyone." Quickly counting the meat he nodded with certainty. "Yep, that's it. Your sister is still in Florida isn't she?"
"Yeah, Jess won't be back for another couple of weeks," Alex smiled. "Her and the new hubby are having a blast down there, even if it's a 'business' trip."
Warm smile gracing him Yami stared up at his friend, "Good, I'm glad, she deserves this."
"Yeah, finally found a normal good man, and he's loaded so that's a bonus."
They both laughed, their mirth being questioned when Kieran bounded up the stairs and glared at them both suspiciously, "What did I miss?"
Waving at him Yami pointed at the large patio table nearby, "Get some of the pasta before Soren and Eric steal it all."
"Is it that taco pasta salad of yours?" Kieran piped up, a bright grin on his face like a kid in a candy store. When Yami nodded he squealed and dashed over to grab a plate. "Did I mention how much I love you?"
"Hmm, funny kid you are," Yami teased, watching with mirth while Kieran loaded his plate then slunk away, viciously protecting it from Soren and Eric when he trudged back down the stairs to the fire.
"He's not really a kid anymore," Alex stated. "He's only a year and a half younger than you."
"He's younger, that's all that matters."
"You're just being spiteful because he's taller than you."
"Who isn't taller than me, really?" Yami protested, puffing his cheeks out and crossing his arms.
Using his elbow to playfully nudge Yami, Alex grinned down at him, "You could look at it as the best things come in small packages...or big things come in small packages, take your pick."
Yami's chaste laugh beside him was answer enough and his grin widened. "Now, how much longer are you going to continue to make me starve and wait while I smell this amazing food. My stomach is starting to turn in on itself from the torture."
"Depends on whether or not you want to wait for those chicken legs you gave me to be done. Otherwise, have at it."
"Will you kill me if I abandon you for food?"
Shaking his head and chuckling Yami waved him away with his hand and moved back over to the barbeque, "Just send someone up to keep me company."
"Too late, someone wants to say hello," came a soft feminine voice from the stairs. The two men averted their attention sideways to see Abby standing at the top of the stairs, a bright smile on her face as she watched her little mirror image escape from her and barrel towards Yami.
Immediately Yami abandoned checking on the food for kneeling down and scooping Isolde into his arms. A delightful squeal emitted through the air as she was lifted high before Yami shifted his hold and held her tightly against his torso. She giggled, green eyes glinting as she stared up at her godfather before squealing again and wrapping her arms around his neck tightly, her thick red-gold curls barely contained in the pigtails on either side of her head. Both Abby and Alex exchanged a look and smiled, Yami always became an instant softy around children, but little Isolde took that to a new level.
Yami's warm smile beamed down at the little girl when she pulled back to stare at him, her little-freckled cheeks blushing as she giggled again, "There's my little Izzy, was starting to think you had forgotten about me."
Izzy pouted and furiously shook her head, "I not forget Unkie Ami!"
He winked at her, "Are you ready for some supper?" She nodded her head avidly, a mischievous grin gracing her pretty features. Lifting his gaze Yami acknowledged Abby, said individual was slowly walking over, her smile bright. "Should probably get you fed soon, when are you leaving?"
"In an hour," she murmured, frowning and crossing her arms. "Still wondering if I am going to bother."
"Little late now," stated Yami while watching Alex wave at him then disappear down the stairs to the fire with a plate full of steaming food. "Though I don't blame you, Soren told me what your Mom pulled...again."
Abby shrugged, fingers reaching up to adjust Izzy's little green dress then tighten her pigtails, "You know my Mom. This didn't surprise me in the least, just pisses me off. How are you doing, haven't seen you in a couple of days, you both were working some crazy shifts."
Shrugging, Yami adjusted his grip so he was holding Izzy with one arm while the other lifted the barbeque up to check on all the meat. Balancing Izzy on his hip and flipping all the food he answered Abby quietly, "Been better, just glad that school and the ACP exam is done or this rotation would have driven me to suicide. The crazies are coming back out now that it is so close to Stampede."
Grabbing the plates that Yami filled with food, Abby carted them over to the patio table and added them to the various other dishes to be consumed. When finished, and once Yami had closed and turned off the barbeque, she rubbed his arm comfortingly warmly smiling at him when he peered at her questioningly.
"You and Soren both need a vacation, you especially. You haven't left Calgary in four years, you haven't even gone camping."
Sighing deeply Yami gripped her hand and squeezed it appreciatively, "I know, Bakura's planning on disappearing after Stampede. He's planning the trip, keeping me completely out of the loop aside from telling me when the time off I needed to book was. Which concerns me in and of itself; he's booked three weeks off in August."
Abby winked at him, "Oh trust me Yami, you will love every minute of it. He's told everyone else, just not you."
He scowled, lifting his other hand to support Izzy's back as she relaxed against him, almost dozing in his arms. "Evil bugger."
"Like I said, you will love it, just accept it and don't worry. Besides, I'm sure you two lovebirds need some relaxing alone time." Giving his blushing face a knowing wink she leaned over the railing and called out to the crowd. "Foods ready, get it while it's hot!"
The flood for food was rapid. Through much teasing and laughter, the plates were sorted out and filled before everyone filed back down to the now bright fire. Surprisingly, with Soren and Eric acting like starved animals, everyone still managed to keep all parts of their bodies attached and unharmed.
Izzy being taken by Soren for food, Yami found someone else attached to his hip, said child followed him down to the fire and sat beside him. Glancing down at Graham, Grey's nine-year-old son, he grinned, Graham grinning back up at him wickedly.
Graham was the splitting image of Grey, with all of Eshe's coloring and her eyes. Eshe was of Native, Sudanese and Dutch heritage, so her skin was a rich mocha, her eyes were beautiful blue with the traditional Native almond shape and she was tall and lithe. A lethal beauty, as everyone always called her, and Grey had the constant teasing from everyone that when Lily, his twelve-year-old daughter, was old enough he would have his hands full. Graham retained Grey's goofy sense of humor, and it was obvious now as said boy stared at him with a wide grin and crossways eyes.
Chuckling Yami shook his head at him, "Stop before your mother throttles us both," he teased.
Graham stuck his tongue out, protesting loudly when Yami flicked him between the eyes, "That's not fair!"
From across the fire, Crissy was holding in laughter watching the exchange between Yami and Graham with mirth, leaning against her brother she chuckled, "If only we could convince him to have kids huh."
Soren shook his head at her, a soft smile beaming down at her, "You know he won't. His mental health scares the shit out of him, he doesn't want to put a kid through that. He's perfectly fine being the cool uncle to all of our kids."
"It's still a shame," she pouted, picking at her burger. "They both would have made fantastic fathers."
"Is this a conspiracy that I am listening in on," piped Eric, leaning into the conversation beside Crissy amidst the two siblings laughing loudly, especially at Eric's goofy expression. He let out a small squeal when Crissy playfully pushed him, barely keeping hold of his precious plate of food. "What! You were being awfully secretive!"
"Just stating the obvious mutant," Soren stated, inconspicuously pointing at Yami, whom now had placed both their plates of food on the ground and had Graham' smirking body in a loose headlock. Eric caught on fast and smiled, glancing back at Soren with a knowing expression. "Exactly, glad to see that shriveled ass brain of yours works."
"Smart ass," Eric laughed.
"Thank you, I appreciate the compliment."
Facepalming Crissy snorted in amusement, "You two are pathetic."
Alex's voice cut through all conversations, tone playfully mocking he called out at the clicking sound of the gate opening and Reno barking in greeting, "Ahh, the three stooges have arrived, the great detectives finally grace us with their presence."
With mirthful laughter Anderson and Grey waved at everyone, while Bakura slinked away into the house to change, the former questioning, "Please tell me there is food left after all of you mongers have loaded yourselves."
Yami pointed up the stairs, "Everything is up on the deck, help yourselves."
When the three men trekked back down the stairs Grey and Anderson had rolled up the sleeves of their dress shirts and discarded their jackets, while Bakura had changed into shorts and a button up t-shirt. Instant casual, a sight the three were rarely seen in lately. Bakura shooed Graham away and took over said spot, while Grey and Anderson found seats where they were available.
Easy conversation began ceaselessly as if it had never been interrupted, the only time it was interjected was when Abby left and when Soren returned from dropping her off.
In his return to the fire, Soren was able to seamlessly return to the chatter, though internally he was relieved at the sight of Yami completely relaxed. Eyes half-lidded, Yami sat on the ground between Bakura's legs, said man had his hands draped lovingly around the EMT's neck with his head resting atop the wild hair. Isolde was curled up in Yami's lap, tightly wrapped up in a blanket to ward off the nights chill, Reno resting his head on her feet for further warmth. Sitting down on the log beside Bakura, he gently nudged the detective, Bakura glancing up somnolently at him with a knowing smile before he returned to enveloping Yami in his arms.
Graham and Lily pulled everyone from their moments of quiet enjoyment around the soothing fire by running down the stairs carrying everything needed - and then some - for smores. Conversations resumed, laughter filled the starry night as they all enjoyed the fire and its gifts.
Eleven o'clock rolled around too fast for the group and dispersals began quickly.
Yami took that time to address something that had been eating at him for the past few hours. Anderson looked like hell froze over, eyes sunken by dark circles and he was clearly vexed, attention waning throughout the night. Stepping up beside the detective, who was standing by the bottom of the stairs waiting for the majority of the crowd to leave, he murmured out.
"You look like hell."
Snorting wryly Anderson acknowledged Yami with a playful slap to the arm, "Aren't you articulate."
"I'm serious, what's eating you, I haven't seen you this wiped in a long time."
Swallowing hard Anderson peered down hard at Yami, crimson eyes staring back just as intently, "Not sure if I should disclose that to you or not kiddo."
Dark ruby eyes narrowed, and it was all the warning Anderson needed, huffing he exhaled deeply and crossed his arms.
"That website, 'The Flock' you remember it? Well, there's been some strange activity on it. The most recent conversation starter is really bothering me. I stayed there all last night reading the answers to the post."
Yami quirked a brow, "That's usually not a good sign, your intuition is phenomenal. What are you going to do?"
"Report it in the morning to the acting Lieutenant in the major crimes unit and to the Chief, see if we can get something a little more hardcore going with this group. I think they are going to breach the boundary soon of just online banding together to something more violent, I do not think they are staying dormant for much longer."
Shoulders slouching Yami leaned against the stair railing, "Nothing's leaked right?"
"About you? No kiddo, I would have told you already if your situation was leaked on the internet. No, so far they only know us three detective's, that's all that was put in the papers."
"I'm more concerned about Soren."
"Nothing has been released about his involvement either. Trust me, I do daily searches." Hearing the deep relieved exhale from Yami, Anderson gave him a comforting shoulder rub. "Relax, you and Soren are safe, and I doubt they would ever touch us, too much red tape. However, I can see them starting off with petty crimes like vandalism and such. But, they are fanatics. Crazy fanatics."
"I'm guessing Grey and Bakura know?"
"Yeah, told them this morning. Don't worry kiddo, we will keep you up to date, breathe easy."
"Yeah," Yami murmured uneasily, rubbing his shoulder nervously.
Sensing the nervousness, Anderson gently nudged him. "What's up kiddo, and don't even try that nothing bullshit with me."
Chewing on his lip, Yami glanced up at him, seeing the ferocity behind that look and the protectiveness, he relented. "Those guys, from the alley yesterday. They weren't just random thugs, and their being there was not by chance either."
"Meaning?"
Swallowing hard, voice going quiet, he murmured. "The Master wishes to intensify the star of life on your back, congratulate you on becoming a paramedic. He looks forward to the impending reunion."
Body spasming, Anderson whipped around and tightly took hold of Yami's shoulders, the young man staring at him in shock. "You're certain that's what they said? Can you remember what they look like?"
Head loosely shaking, crimson eyes peered at him cautiously, "Yes, that's what one of them said. No, they were wearing masks."
"Mother fucking vile bastards!" Relinquishing Yami he stepped back and fisted his hands against the side of his head, glad his outburst was missed by the rest of the company. "The Flock...The Shepherd will soon greet his Flock, the metal bars and concrete blocks around him will no longer confine him from teaching us the path to righteousness. Those abusing their medicinal powers and status will no longer be able to dodge their sin. Our master will make them suffer and pay for the pain they have inflicted upon the innocent. That was the precursor to the bizarre activity lately. Fucking Christ, they can't be that stupid."
Going pale, Yami stated sharply. "There's no way they can break him out, Millhaven is a high-security prison."
"That might not stop them from trying."
"Alert the prison tomorrow," came the rapid suggestion. "Did any subsequent posts hint towards a date or a time of any kind."
"No, every single comment was vague as shit."
"Call the Chief, and the Major Crimes Unit, tonight; maybe they can start sorting through this shit and get something hammered out."
"Agreed," Anderson sighed, then reaching out pulled Yami into a sideways bear hug, concerned when Yami returned it far tighter than normal, a small tremor noticeable in the normally stable form. "I had better head home, got some phone calls to make. Take care kiddo, and don't say anything to Bakura or Grey, let me sort some of this out first. Don't need those two smothering you."
With that he gave a wave and strode off, unable to shake the sensation of Yami's intensely worried gaze trickling up his back sending shivers down his spine. The quiet good-bye sat heavy in his stomach, Yami's voice oddly soft. Ducking through the gate he disappeared to his vehicle, waving goodbye with a strained smile to those friends still hanging around their vehicles. Clambering he released a deep sigh, then starting the ignition drove home with the heaviness in his stomach increasing with the distance.
Yami, left where he stood by the stairs, felt the same sensation. Intent on shaking it he meandered away through the doors entering in through the basement, Reno obediently at his heels. The soft giggling of a child could be heard from the spare room; removing his sandals Yami flicked off the lights in the massive living room area that was encompassed by a projector style screen with multiple game systems hooked up, a massive sectional and a large area filled with weight equipment.
Moving to the light in the room that was partially hidden beyond the door to the stairs he peeked in and smiled. Soren had Izzy tucked into the massive bed beside him, she was already in her bright green pajamas with her plush cat stuffed animal tightly in her arms. Soren was in bed beside her, already ready for sleep as well, glancing up at him over the book he was reading to the little girl snuggled up against his side. Them staying here was pre-arranged, especially with how late they knew they were staying.
Yami winked at Soren and ducked out before Izzy noticed him and made his way upstairs flicking off lights and locking doors as he did so. He could hear the shower running signaling to him where Bakura was. The heaviness increased and Yami began to feel sick to his stomach as entered the bedroom.
"Yami, come join me!" Called Bakura over the pounding of the shower, gaining Yami's distracted attention.
Reluctantly, and trying to push aside the queasiness, Yami stripped and quietly obliged. But, even as the heat and steam of the shower enveloped him, he could not quell the shivers.
Friday, July 5th - 12:03 am.
Pulling into the driveway of his home Anderson shoved the vehicle into park and stared dejectedly at the front door. He felt like shit, stomach was doing the topsy-turvy and making him uneasy. Mentally growling he exited his car and wandered to the front door, keys jingling in his hands as he went. He moved quickly; whether from the queasiness or just lack of sleep, he felt his mind playing tricks on him, the shadows moving around him as if possessed.
Shoving his key in the lock and twisting it he pushed the front door open, tripping over the front landing and spilling the contents of his pockets all over the carpet. Grumbling he leaned down and picked it all up, flicking on the front light so he could chuck some of it onto the desk, front door still open in his distractedness. Kicking off his shoes he retrieved his cell phone from the floor, striding over into the office he had adjacent to the front door. Flicking on that light he checked his phone for damage then quickly punched in the number for the Chief of police with a deep somnolent yawn.
Seeing the front door open he cursed, with heavy tired steps he meandered to the door and gripped the handle, yawning again loudly. In that instant he froze, a shadow he had not noticed before looming in front of him, staring down at his feet he could see it cross over him, the form of a looming man. Snapping his gaze up he released a sharp gasp, mind whirling in shock especially when the tip of a silencer pressed against his brow.
A man stared darkly at him, dressed in pure black with a short black toque. He was grinning, lips tight and the mirth in his eyes was bright along with the intensity of the unique cerulean depths. In seconds Anderson swept his eyes over him, the man was a giant, large enough to make him feel puny. Thick muscles protruding through dark clothing amplified the heavy military stance, weight balanced perfectly with even his hand balancing the gun with ease, no shake to his grip. His face was covered in the traditional black smeared mask that the special ops used, a sinister figure cut even darker by said action.
Swallowing hard Anderson stared at the man, his intentions were clear.
"Gerald Anderson, CPS detective formerly part of the missing persons and gang units am I correct?" the deep voice rasped, sending a shiver up Anderson's spine.
Receiving a shaking nod the man grinned wider, pristine white teeth shining through the black face paint smear across his complexion. His heart was beating wildly with excitement, it had been too long since he had shed blood and watched eyes go milky with lifelessness. The adrenaline was pumping through him, a euphoric ecstasy that he desperately missed.
"I bear a message from the Flock...time to pay for your sins."
Anderson flinched, eyes closing as the trigger was squeezed. The man watched with morbid fascination as blood exploded out from the back of the detectives head, hitting the white carpet before the already lifeless body did. Careful with his footing he shifted his stance and shot two more rounds, one into either side of Anderson's chest.
Confident that life was no more he shifted the gun onto his back, snapped a pair of shower caps over his heavy commando boots and knelt down at the detective's feet, admiring his work, dark blood rapidly pooling around the victims head and torso staining the pristine white carpet crimson. Reaching absently over his shoulder he flicked off the light, dousing the room in darkness aside from the little bit of moonlight that filtered around his silhouette. Blood looked so beautiful in the moonlight, black and glistening like a perfect diamond with a ruby sheen when viewed from the proper angle.
Grinning Klive stood up, dusting off his knees with his leather-clad hands he flicked off the shower caps and shoved them in his pocket.
"Nighty night, Detective."
"Hello….Hello? Anderson…?" Chimed a voice from the phone into the still night air, their calls not disturbing the man who's cold hands held the device. "Anderson!?"
