Nothing happened on the whole night shift Ponch had, to his amazement and relief. While the young ginger sat there, quiet and polite as ever, there were no Wayne who appeared. Once in a while, he used to look up at the small officer, who was there incognito, and wonder what that looked in the green eyes were.
Green as emeralds and yet, so mysterious. The boy had a smooth skin, his skin was pale as snow. Did he ever go outside? Los Angeles was a usually sunny place, so why would he have a reason to stay inside rather than enjoy his time outside the work? The hair would be a mess for many others, but it suited for the smaller male. It was orange, like carrots and it has countless of curls.
Ponch wondered if the curly ginger hair would be soft under his touch. That was when he caught himself, the Puerto Rican wondered what was wrong with him. It was one thing to be caught into a moment, but to just look at the young boy and feel attracted to him by his appearances.
'He can't be human...' Ponch thought for himself as he filled the tray of the orders of drinks and he glanced over to the ginger. 'Who is that guy? I never seen someone like him...the guy looks even like a girl!' He thought to himself.
As it was soon end of his shift and Ponch endured his last tasks before leaving for the day, he dried off the tables. "Isn't time for you to go home?" He whispered to the ginger and brought the glass onto his tray.
"Not yet." He replied with a smile. "I won't go home unless you're safe."
Ponch sighed and gave up. There were no way he could convince the little boy to run away or make him stay out of this. But it was something about his smile that made the Puerto Rican feel at ease. Comforted by a simple smile.
"Thanks for tonight!" Fred said as he cleaned up the place. Ponch just nodded as the ginger guy was still there, waiting by the entrance and dressed in nothing else than a faded green coat. It looked as if the small guy had it for decades, despite being so young. "Be safe now." Ponch's co-worker said as the two left the bar.
It was quiet as Ponch walked with the ginger. It didn't seemed like he had much to say, but it was still awkward to walk towards home in total silence. Besides he didn't even knew if the small guy had a name or not.
"So..." Ponch began and the ginger looked at him. "You got a name?"
The young boy nodded. "O'Hannigan." He answered after a long moment and with a soft smile. "O'Hannigan it is, my father's name."
Ponch took that into his mind. "You're Irish?"
"Yes. I came to America when I was a child. The reason I don't remember as I had amnesia and my maternal aunt sent me here for a future." O'Hannigan answered and his eyes looked sad. "I don't think I could bother her more as I was the reason my mother passed."
"Your mom's dead?" Ponch asked surprised.
O'Hannigan nodded again and although this time, he was more solemn. "My mother's body were already sick and weak before I came to the world. She rather wanted me to live than her own life and she risked herself to give birth. She passed after two months though, so I can't remember her."
It was quite a long explanation for such a small guy and Ponch felt sorry for him. He lost his mother and so young! "What about your dad then? He's alive?"
"I don't know, I can't remember him at all. My aunt only said it was for the best if I didn't knew."
"How rude!" exclaimed Ponch before he could stop himself.
O'Hannigan nodded. "Indeed, but I never dared to say anything to her face."
They walked together, both of them felt more at ease. It wasn't the same awkward silence as before, now they walked together in a comfortable silence as they knew each other slightly better.
Ponch had already decided for himself to not bring the small guy to his motor home. O'Hannigan didn't needed to know that he basically lived in poverty and had to work in a bar out of desperation, besides he might tell Jon and it was the least thing he wanted.
So, he had decided that they would go as far they could to the camping area he lived and more further than there, since the area of the camping lot were well lit with those lamp posts. The only thing that concerned Ponch a lot was how O'Hannigan would get home by himself.
He looked as if a simple thing could break him apart.
The two of them turned to left of a street corner and walked through a long, dark alley. Ponch hated to walk home along in the middle of night, but as he wasn't alone, it gave him some kind of comfort. It wasn't even that long of a walk either and he would hate it once O'Hannigan were going to leave as he enjoyed the ginger's company a lot.
In the past, Ponch had gotten into a lot of fights as people from the bar used to followed him as soon he left his workplace.
But the thing that scared him more was the thought of Wayne following him. Ponch couldn't be more thankful that he had watched his back enough to make sure that no one followed him and found out where he lived. Otherwise he would never be alone and in the worst way. That would be so dreadful! Ponch hated to live in fear, it just wasn't right! But he had no other choice and he put himself in this situation , so he had to just suck it up.
Suddenly a trash can fell over and they both stopped. "What was that?!" O'Hannigan asked, startled and he bit his lower lip. It was dark, not a single lamp post could reach to them.
"I don't know..." Ponch replied and tried to make out in the dark shadows.
A voice behind them started both. "Well, what do I have here?"
It was O'Hannigan who reacted first and got in front of Ponch. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" He demanded to know and tried to glare at the stranger, who was at least two inches taller than the ginger.
"Not to spoil it, but you got the wrong turn home."
Now it was Ponch's turn to react, he stared and cocked his head at the side slightly. "And how would you know that?"
"I know a lot about you, Ponch. I know your schedule at work…memorized it. Know who your friends are…know about your Wayne problem…I even know exactly where you sleep each night. You almost never use your bed…it's the couch you sleep on. And lately you've been tossing and turning all night long."
Ponch shivered slightly. How the hell did that guy know so much!? Ponch looked at him. He'd never seen this guy before in his whole life…well except for back at the bar when he saved Ponch from Wayne.
"Hey I get that you're a little uneasy…but honestly you can at least do more than just stare at me," the man said.
Ponch dropped his gaze to the ground. "Sorry…" he said quietly.
The man smiled a devilish grin. "Well I know how can make this all up to me…"
"Whoever said I needed to?" Ponch retorted.
The man grabbed onto Ponch. "Hey baby I saved your life, the least you could do is show me some respect."
"How about you should show respect?!" O'Hannigan snapped angered and no one could react as it happened in less than a second. The ginger ran and pushed the stranger at the ground with full force, Ponch fell backwards to the ground and could only watch as the little guy began to fight.
The stranger was furious. "Your little brat!" He growled and caught O'Hannigan in a headlock. The ginger shouted something in a different language and bit the taller guy's arm.
Judging of how much he roared, it must've been painful and O'Hannigan's teeth must've been naturally sharp. The Puerto Rican had never seen someone so small to fight so fiercely, it was almost as if the ginger had turned into a feral animal as the small boy growled loudly.
Ponch was petrified, he couldn't move and watched in horror as the stranger threw off the ginger and bent over him, his massive hands strangling O'Hannigan by the throat. His arms and hands flailed around helplessly as he tried to find something to beat the guy with. The young male began to wheeze as his opponent was really trying to kill him.
That was when O'Hannigan's left hand grabbed an old beer bottle and hit the stranger's face with it. The glass bottle was shattered against his face and he let go of the ginger's throat and he gasped for breath.
Ponch rushed to help the ginger up and the small guy just glared at the stranger. "You should leave before I call for backup!" He said and showed up some kind of police badge. "Trust me, LAPD ain't so nice as you think!"
The stranger, who sported quite the wound on his face's side which bled a lot, chuckled nervously. "Officer...clearly this is an misunderstanding-"
"As if sexual assault and attempted rape is misunderstanding. Get lost now!"
The Puerto Rican watched in awe as the stranger ran off, he shouted something about "the wench should pay for this" before he vanished round a corner.
Ponch looked back at the ginger, his savior from a horrible fate. "Are you alright?" He asked concerned and as they walked at the end of the alley, he saw how O'Hannigan had received a black eye. The skin around his right eye were bruised in colors of dark purple and blue, his lips has burst and covered in blood. The shirt beneath the coat were almost ripped off.
"I'm alright." O'Hannigan replied and his voice sounded raspy, the effect of almost being strangled to death. He continued the pace of their walk as if nothing had happened.
But there were still something he didn't understand. "Jon said you were with the CHP...why did you say LAPD?"
That was when O'Hannigan began to laugh. "To scare him!" The ginger answered him with a wide grin. "People tend to be more afraid of LAPD than the CHP, for some reason. Heck, they all call us just "chippies". It's as if they don't have respect for us."
Ponch just nodded. As that did make sense, he knew he could impossibly turn the ginger away. He had gotten injured and he didn't cared if his motor home was a mess, the wellbeing of O'Hannigan was more important than what people thought of him. But in secret, he had never been so grateful that it was someone who saved him. Even if they guy was almost a head shorted than him.
Ponch gestured for the ginger to step inside. "Well...I live here." He explained awkwardly as O'Hannigan stepped inside the motor home.
For starters, it was a mess. The couch seemed to be Ponch's "bed" as the real bed in the back was made and untouched, the smaller table was covered by old magazines. The trashcan was overloaded by old boxes where ordered food had been in. Clothes were thrown carelessly at the chairs.
The kitchen sink was filled of unwashed glasses, plates and silverwares.
"Where's the bathroom?" O'Hannigan asked of sudden.
Ponch pointed at a door that was left ajar, inside was dark and he reached to switch on the light inside. "Here. the bath tub is both shower and well, bath. You want a shower?"
The ginger nodded. "Yes, I'm quite dirty after all the fighting." He said and opened the door, only to enter the bathroom. "Is there towels inside here?"
Ponch nodded as he searched for a first aid kit through the drawers and cupboards. "Yeah, just take your time, man." He said and hadn't turned around a single time. If he could find some bandages, that would be great.
The ginger stared at the reflection in the mirror while inside the bathroom. The pale, smooth face were roughly beaten up. The skin around the right eye was black and blue, it throbbed of pain. Scratches of nails had almost ribbed the cheek and the burst lips were red of blood.
A shower could maybe hear the mind and besides, being dirty of a fight didn't help when it was time to sleep. The coat was the first thing that came off first, then the shoes before the ginger undid the belt and the pair of black pants fell down at the ankles. Next came of was the yellow sweater and a flannel shirt. Last was the socks if someone didn't count the underwear.
O'Hannigan turned on the shower and went into it, a pair of clean towels were waiting once he was done with showering.
"Aha!" exclaimed Ponch in triumph. He finally found was he was looking for and he decided to make sure O'Hannigan was alright. Besides, he never told where the shower gels and shampoo was.
He walked towards the small bathroom and opened the door. "Hey! I found the first aid kit."
The ginger didn't answered, but he could see the forms of the younger male through the shower curtains. "Did you found the stuff? I forgot to tell that-" While he talked, Ponch had walked across and his hands reached to unveil the shower curtains to talk to O'Hannigan.
A terrified scream and Ponch was hit in the face by a soap bar. The Puerto Rican stumbled backwards as the shower curtains fell down back and he threw himself out of the door, closing it quickly.
He stood there with his back against the closed bathroom door, the sounds of the showering waters inside and his heart pounded. His brown eyes were wide in shock, his hands were trembling.
He was a she.
O'Hannigan was a girl.
