Chapter 30

"Stay away from us!"

"Put down the boy, Miss Teague," called one of the cops who'd shown up moments after Waters' alert. Kat's eyes darted to the ambulance where the others were being loaded onto stretchers and lifted into the back. Caleb, she thought, would have struggled… had he not been sedated from behind. The only reason she was still standing was the fact that she was carrying Reid, and they were probably afraid he'd break his neck if she dropped him.

"Don't come any nearer," she snarled, glancing down at Reid's face. His eyes… dear god, they couldn't be black when the paramedics took him. Come on, baby, push the magic back. You can handle it. Come on.

They were stepping closer, holding hands out as if she'd really believe they wouldn't hurt her. Kat looked down at Reid again, growing desperate. He was still humming with power, they were all under arrest for assaulting a police officer and blowing up a house, there was a dead woman in the wreckage, and she had nowhere left to run.

"Stop it," she gritted beneath her breath, shaking some hair out of her eyes. The eyes did not go blue.

"You've got nowhere to go, Kat," Waters yelled. "Give it up." She glared at him, and he flinched, but said nothing. Apparently, he'd convinced himself that what he'd seen… he hadn't really seen.

Please, Reid, please, she thought frantically. I can't protect you from all of them. I need you to wake up.

"Ow."

She was so startled she almost did drop him. As it was, Kat took a sharp, staggered breath, and fell to her knees. Reid moaned again, the eerie blackness waning to a clear sapphire. He blinked at her, a trickle of blood running from one corner of his mouth.

"Oh, thank god," Kat sighed, smiling at him. "Welcome back."

"What- happened?" She could hear the officers and paramedics coming, and ignored them.

"Not- not a lot," Kat lied, seeing the panicked confusion in his face. "How do you feel?"

"Chest-hurts," he answered, jerkily. His eyes didn't quite seem focused. He coughed, and his teeth were stained red as more blood dribbled from between his lips. She felt something wet on her arm where she was cradling his head, and realized that he was bleeding from the ears as well. Kat silently cursed. She wasn't sure what that meant, but she knew it wasn't good.

"You're gonna be fine. Don't worry."

"Mary?"

"Don't worry about her," Kat said again, her eyes filling despite herself. She smiled through the thin veil of tears and gently put her hand against his cheek. "It's over," she lied again. "It's all over."

He sighed and closed his eyes.

"Never- ow- play poker," he grunted. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

"Shh, you shouldn't talk," she said finally. "You're supposed to be too wasted to notice when I'm lying."

"I'm just- that- good-" He broke off, face going limp as the paramedic she hadn't even noticed slipped a needle into his shoulder. Kat let them take him from her, not even feeling the second needle enter her neck.

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When Reid opened his eyes, it was to whiteness. Clean, hospital whiteness, to be more clear. He blinked, waiting for it to go away. It didn't.

"Oh, shit," he muttered. He had a bone-numbing headache, and there was a vaguely painful pressure on his ribcage, but other than that, he felt ok. No real reason to be in the hospital, right? Reid struggled to remember what had landed him here. Mary… and pain… and Kat saying… saying… and then there had been an explosion. And after that, he had a fuzzy memory of Kat again, and then nothing.

"Good morning, Mr. Garwin," a voice from his left said coolly. Reid turned his head, finding that the movement made the migraine shoot even sharper bursts of pain through his skull. His vision blacked for an instant, and then cleared. A man was sitting beside his bed. Short, crisp brown hair, clean clothes, bland expression. An official of some kind. Reid knew the type.

"Speak for yourself," he answered, sounding distinctly surly. "Where is everyone else?"

"They're fine."

"I didn't ask how they were, I asked where they were," Reid snapped. He was in no mood to play nice.

"In custody. Here in the hospital."

"Custody," Reid repeated slowly, frowning. "What custody?"

"Police custody." As this was sinking in, the man continued. "I'm Lt. Boyler, Ipswich PD." Reid frowned again. This didn't make sense.

"The cops? What the hell?"

"What do you remember about the past twenty-four hours, Mr. Garwin? Or can I call you Reid?"

"You can call me Reid if I can call you shithead," the bedridden teen responded, trying to buy time. Boyler didn't look impressed.

"Don't make it any worse for yourself, Reid," he said. "We already know almost everything. Your friends were awake before you; they've already talked. You can really smooth your ride over if you fill in the gaps." Reid sat up a little, hoisting himself onto his elbows a few inches before the pressure on his chest became unbearable and he had to stop. Broken ribs, he though absently.

"What gaps? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Tell me what happened, Reid. Tell me who killed Mary Harcortte."

With a small sound, Reid fell back onto the bed as his arms gave out. He felt a moment of complete and utter shock.

Tell me who killed Mary Harcortte.

…who killed Mary Harcortte…

…killed…

And even though he knew it was stupid and pointless, Reid couldn't stop himself from asking it.

"She's dead?" He heard the surprise in his voice, and also heard the relief, and prayed that his obvious shock overpowered the other emotion, in the lieutenant's ears.

"You know she's dead, son. We already know what happened, but there're a few things you could fill us in on. So don't bother hiding anything, and don't bother lying; you can only make it better. You can't make it right." Boyler was looking at him as if he fully expected him to tell him everything he wanted to know.

"I want my lawyer here," Reid said instead. He didn't know shit about law, but he'd seen enough legal dramas on TV to know the basics.

"Reid," Boyler said quietly, "you've already been incriminated. All you're doing here is telling me what you remember, not making a case for yourself."

"Do not call me that. I'm not telling you anything."

"I don't think-"

"Obviously not."

"All right," the agent said, slapping his hands down on his thighs decisively. "I can see you're intelligent enough, so I'll cut the crap."

"Please." Boyler leaned forward, the mildly interested look wiping from his face like paint from skin. It was replaced with cold solemnity.

"Tell me why you killed her." This time, Reid's hands flew up defensively.

"Hey, hey, pal, watch who you accuse! I didn't kill anyone." Boyler shook his head.

"Stop playing games, boy."

Slowly, Reid's hands sank to his sides again.

Oh, man.

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"I want to see my father."

"Tell us what happened."

"I'm not saying jack until I see my father. And my lawyer, while you're at it. In fact, let's just stick with 'I'm not saying jack'. That seems to cover everything nicely." Kat's tone was acidic, and if she wasn't too sedated to stand, she'd complete the bite of her voice with a little intimidating of the humans. Unfortunately, she couldn't sit up, much less stand, so she was stuck snapping.

"Why did you run away? Why did you assist in blowing up that house? Were you an accomplice to the murder of-"

"Murder? Murder?!"

"Mary Harcortte was found dead in the ruins of that house. She'd suffered multiple blows to the chest and face, and her neck was snapped."

"What, and that couldn't have happened when the goddamn house blew up?" The werewolf was pissed. Beyond pissed. She'd been here for the past twenty hours, recuperating, and repeatedly doped. She hadn't been allowed to see anyone save for these damned police people, and they wouldn't tell her anything substantial about any of the others. They were alive, at least, if these nimrods were to be believed.

"Come on," the female cop said. "We both know it didn't. Why don't you just talk to us, Kat?"

"Oh, piss off."

"You're not making this any easier on yourself." Kat looked at the woman and the man sitting next to her, and began to laugh.

"No," she said finally, still smiling. There was genuine amusement in that smile, and in her voice, mixed with the irritation and frustration. "You aren't making it any easier on yourselves."

"Is that a threat?"

But Kat would say no more.