Fire and Ice
Wesv (Way-suh)
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, but boy, if I did! Not making or even hoping to make any money…This is old hat for everyone, right? Moving on…
Notes: This takes place a few months after the series ended and follows my story On the Rocks. Though it builds on a fact from that story, it does stand alone. You don't absolutely have to read On the Rocks to understand this one. In fact, just know that Van buys a house a few blocks off the beach in Venice at the end of On the Rocks, and you're caught up.
Thanks to my beta, prplerayne and Jy. You've been a tremendous help!
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Part 3
Billie was gone now. Deaq sat in the chair next to Van's bed as Ray-Ray stalked the room. Van tried to move only to be brought up short by the soft cuffs that restrained him. He muttered something, and a sound too close to a sob not to twist Deaq's stomach in knots came as Van pulled on the cuff on his right wrist.
"Why the restraints?"
Deaq looked up. "He was freaking out. They couldn't calm him down. I think he thought he was on fire. They were just trying to keep him from hurting himself."
"Well, he's not freaking out now. I'm taking them off." The man moved swiftly to the bed and started unbuckling the soft restraints on Van's ankles and wrists.
"Ray-Ray, we don't know how he's going to be when he wakes up, man."
"I think we can handle it."
Deaq didn't argue with him. He hadn't liked seeing Van tied down anymore than his father did.
"So, share your boss lady's opinion?"
"Which one?" Deaq asked, although he knew. He was stalling. What could he say?
"'Father of the Year.'"
"Man, what do you want me to say? You were in jail or on the run most of his life, right?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Although, he did live with me a few times when his mother was too busy to take care of him, and I was in one place for a while. He ever tell you about his mother?"
"No, other than to say that if I thought you were bad, I should wait until I met her."
The man actually chuckled. "Teresa is a very beautiful, very self-centered, and very sexually active woman. Van caught her with his baseball coach when he was maybe eight or nine. Later, around thirteen or fourteen, he walked in on her with his math teacher. That was one of the times that he came to live with me. You know, I was still married to her then? We didn't actually divorce until he was almost sixteen. We just lived apart and acted divorced. She had the baseball coach, the math teacher, that bastard Teddy got rid of, the plumber and whoever else came along, and I had my women too. Van has never liked any of them, mine or hers. Well, except for Frank. Frank treated him good. Better than his mother. Sometimes I think I should look the guy up and thank him for that since I was in prison then and couldn't be there. In fact, I know he sent Van money when he was in college. Of course, Teresa managed to run him off eventually too. As a family, we sucked." He looked straight into Deaq's eyes then. "But I do love my son."
"I know you do. He loves you too, you know?"
"Yeah. In spite of what I am. And in spite of himself, I think. Sometimes I think he would really like to forget I exist. I know I would if I were him."
If Ray wanted a response, he wasn't going to get one, because Deaq's mind had focused in on something the man had said. "Hold up. When who was in college?"
"Van." Ray-Ray looked at him strangely. "You didn't know?"
"No! Mister 'I don't test well' sort of neglected to mention he went to college. He doesn't, like, have a degree, does he? I mean, I can see him not talking about it if he dropped out or something."
"No, he didn't drop out. He has a degree in criminal justice with a minor in criminal psychology."
"Excuse me?"
Ray-Ray chuckled. "He probably thinks I never bothered to find out what he was studying, but I did. I know why he studied that, too. He was trying to figure me out." He shook his head.
"Van has a degree?"
"Yeah," Ray-Ray sounded indignant. "Problem here?"
"He just never said anything. I mean, he even claimed that he didn't test well when an IQ test was mentioned once."
"Van doesn't like tests. In particular, he hates math. He has a learning disability in math. Of course, to determine that, they tested him over and over and over. Poor kid was sick of it and ready to give up by the time they finally decided that he qualified for extra help. So he doesn't want to take any tests that he doesn't have to. You can understand that. As for IQ, he's above average, just a few points shy of genius level. I remember that little meeting with his teachers. 'Donnie is a gifted child, but the emotional instability in his home life is hindering him.' Like I said, as a family, we sucked."
Deaq was stunned. He knew Van was no dummy, but a few points shy of genius? With a frigging degree? Damn. Good thing they didn't take that IQ test. And no wonder Van understood the criminal mind so well; he'd studied it. Explained Van's knowledge of the campus too. He had known just where the Science building was and even what the labs were like. Deaq shook his head.
But how had Van ended up just an officer? With a degree, he could have entered the force with rank. Then it hit him—all the numbers on the exams. Van's disability would make the various exams difficult for him. Knowing Van, he would not have told anyone, so no accommodations would have been made for him. Would Van have even tried the exams with his disability? He'd have to talk to his partner about that when things were back to normal.
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Someone was touching his face. It might have been pleasant had he recognized the voice that accompanied the hand. As it was, it was too intimate and just a bit creepy for someone to be touching him that way. He focused on the words. Maybe it was someone he knew and he just needed to remember who. The words might give him the information.
"—are just so sexy. If only I'd met you before your dad. Then again, what he doesn't know—"
Oh shit, he did know that voice, however brief their acquaintance had been. Not brief enough really. He seriously needed to get her hands off him. God, she was making a pass at him, suggesting—he was going to be sick. Why the hell was he not stopping her already? What the hell was she doing in his house anyway? How'd she get in? Why were his hands not shoving her away yet? Why were his eyes refusing to open? Damn it, move, Van, he scolded himself. It took him a moment to realize that he had indeed followed his own order. His eyes met hers even as he wrapped his hand around her wrist and pushed it away from him. That was when he realized that he was not home. Yet again. This was getting old. Wait, this was a hospital room. Okay, what to address first? She was reaching for him again. That answered that question.
"What the fuck are you doing? Get off me."
"I was just trying to—"
"You were coming on to me. You are married to my father, whatever your name is."
"Nancy Jo, but you can call—"
"Oh, for god's sake, don't say it! Leave me alone. Where's my father? Or Deaq? Where's Deaq?"
"They went down to get some coffee."
"Well, you can go with them." He sat up and fought off a wave of dizziness and pain that shot through his head.
"Ray-Ray wanted me to stay with you."
"I want you to go."
"But—"
"Go!"
"What's going on?" Deaq appeared in the doorway.
"Get her out of here, Deaq, " Van pleaded.
"Um, Nancy Jo, could you give us a minute here?"
"Where's Ray-Ray?" she asked quietly.
"He stopped by the nurses' station. Just go please. Tell him I need a minute with Van."
"Okay." She moved out of the room, tossing Van a pathetic look just before she disappeared.
"She's gone, V. You know you're going to have to get used to her eventually if you see your dad at all."
"No, I don't. I won't, and I won't have to. She was touching me, and saying how sexy I was, and what Dad didn't know... What does that sound like to you?"
"Eww."
"Precisely. Now, tell me why I'm in the hospital."
"You don't remember?"
"No. Would I ask if I did? Nothing's broken, and, with the exception of my head, which is trying to explode, I'm not in pain. What's going on?"
"Remember what we were doing last night?
Van thought about that for a moment. "Not really," he answered. "Oh wait, um, I remember being at someone's house. There were a lot of people. The Fosters, that's it. It was supposed to be my house, the party. Okay, how did that end with me here with a hangover?"
"It's not exactly a hangover, Van. They drugged you."
"What?"
"Still don't remember?"
Van's temper was rising. How dare those little bastards! "Okay, what was it?"
"A cocktail so we don't know what all was in there, but the main ingredient was ketamine. So if you start seeing weird things, that's why."
"Flashbacks. Great. I'm going to kill them both." Slowly, painfully, he added silently.
"What are you going to do about Nancy Jo?"
Van put his plans for the Foster brothers' deaths aside. Yes, he needed to handle the Nancy Jo problem first. "What do you think? Do I tell Dad or not?"
"I don't know, V. That's kinda sticky. How will he take it?"
"Beats me. This is a new one. I've had to tell him a lot of shit before but never that his wife was coming on to me. But he has the right to know, I guess." Van ran one hand through his hair and moved to get out of bed. He stopped, however, as he saw something out of the corner of his eye. "Um, Deaq, are the curtains on fire?"
"No, Van, there's no fire. I think that's what you kept seeing last night, though. You were really freaked out and talking about stuff burning."
"Damn. Afraid of fire, Deaq, ever since I was little kid."
"Oh man, V. I'm sorry. I should have realized they were up to something."
Van shook his head. "You didn't do it, and besides, I should have realized it too. Fire's gone now. I'm okay. Except I have to tell Dad."
"Tell Dad what?"
Speak of the devil himself. And his concubine. Van frowned. She was looking at him with that same pathetic look as when she left the room. Maybe she thought that if she looked pitiful enough he wouldn't say anything. "Dad—how do I say this?"
"Ray," she started, and they all turned to look at her, "Van made a pass at me."
"What? Are you out of your mind?" Van demanded. "Dad, that is not true. When I woke up, she was touching me and saying something about what you didn't know—you can finish that statement. She was saying I was sexy and how she wished she met me first."
"So you made a pass at her?" His father's voice was hard and colder than Van had ever heard it.
"No. I pushed her away and told her to get out."
"Ray, he was the one who said those things. I left to find you to get away from him."
"Naw, no way, Ray-Ray, Van hates her. You know that, man. You saw that. Hell, Ray, you said yourself that he's never liked any of your women. Trust me when I say to you, he don't like this one either!"
Van was grateful that Deaq took over. He had been rendered speechless by the bimbo's claims. He simply could not say anything as he stared at her with his mouth hanging open in shock.
"So my wife is a liar?"
"Come on, Ray-Ray. Think about this. How long have you known her? A few weeks maybe? Van is your son."
"Let's go, Nancy Jo." Van lowered his head as his father took her by the arm and led her toward the door.
"Ray-Ray! What the hell happened to the man I saw last night, man! Van is your son, damn it!"
"He's fine now. We'll just be going." And he was gone.
"Wait a damn minute!" Deaq yelled and started out the door.
"Deaq, leave it, man. It's okay."
"It is not okay!" Deaq whirled around to face Van again. "How can you say it's okay?"
Van shrugged.
"You knew he'd react this way."
"No, I didn't, but I figured it was a possibility."
"But you were going to tell him anyway?"
"Yeah, until I was sideswiped by the bitch."
"Jesus."
"When can I get out of here?"
"Damn, your dad was supposed to be finding that out."
"I want to go now. Where are my clothes?"
"Just chill until I can find the doctor. You need to know what to expect over the next few days. He said it would take that long for you to get back to normal."
Van sighed and raised his hand to comb through his hair once more. That was when he noticed something. "Why are there bruises on my wrists?"
"Oh shit, V, they had to restrain you so you wouldn't hurt yourself or anybody else."
That did it. "Find that doctor. I have to beat some Wonder Bread ass."
"Gotcha." Deaq left then, leaving Van to contemplate just who he'd like to kill first, the Fosters or his dad.
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"Okay, you can't kill them," Deaq repeated. "Rough 'em up, okay, but no death. And not too much roughing up. We still need to make the deal." He followed his still pissed off partner into the science building where Deaq had set up a meet.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don't see why I can't kill 'em. Accomplishes the goal."
"Van—"
"I said, yeah, okay. No killing them. But definitely some roughing up." With that, he flung open the door to the lab, and before Deaq got inside the room, Alan Foster was against the wall hanging by his throat, his feet several inches off the floor. Gary was keeping his distance, his hands up in the air as Van's gun was leveled at his head. "You know something? I don't like being drugged. I mean, I really don't like being drugged. I sell the shit; I don't take it. Hear me, boys? I don't take it. Now, my associate over here keeps reminding me that if I kill you, we lose a substantial amount of money. Believe me when I say to you that that money is the only reason you two are still breathing. So despite the fact that I'd really, really like to kill you right now, I think we still have a deal to see through. Am I correct in saying that?"
Alan tried to nod, as Gary answered, no small amount of fear in his voice, "Yeah, man. Sure, no problem. Just chill, man. We were just having some fun, dude. Sorry."
Van dropped Alan Foster who doubled over to hold his throat. "Fun?"
"Van," Deaq said quietly, stepping up to touch his partner's shoulder, "that's enough. I think they get the idea."
"He thinks that was fun, Deaq." Van looked incredulous. "Did you think that was fun, Deaq?"
"No, man, but just think about the money. Once we get the shit, we don't ever have to see these guys again."
"I don't think that was fun."
"Van."
Van shook his head and let Deaq take over from there.
"We are still on for tomorrow afternoon, right?"
"Sure." It was Alan that answered then.
"Good. However, given the circumstances, I don't think it would be wise to spend any more time together than absolutely necessary. So we'll be going now, and we'll see you tomorrow at noon right here. Let's go, Van."
Van glared at the brothers again but followed Deaq out. They were in the car once again before Deaq decided to speak. "Remind me never to really piss you off, V."
Van made a face at him but said nothing
"Are you okay?" Deaq asked him.
"Yeah, just lovely. Having a great life right now, thanks for asking." He slunk down in the passenger's seat. "Are you going to drive or just sit there looking at me?"
"I'm going to drive. And don't get all pissy with me because you can't drive right now. Can't have you behind the wheel if you have a flashback."
"Yeah, yeah, just take me home, please."
"Can't. You need to stay at the house until this case is over." Deaq cranked the car and pulled out of the parking space.
"Great, I was kinda hoping it really did burn down. No such luck though. Now I get to go stay in a fish bowl house."
"Fish bowl house?" he asked as he turned into traffic.
"All windows, like being in a fish bowl."
"Ah. I could stay with you."
"No, don't worry about it. I'm a big boy."
"Really, maybe I should. You might have problems. The doctor did say you didn't need to be alone for—"
"Fine, whatever."
"And you and me need to talk."
"What?"
"I know, I know, me wanting to talk, strange, but I think we should."
"About what?"
"Lots of things."
Van was eyeing him suspiciously. "I don't think I want to."
"No way, partner. Not getting out of this."
"Shit." Van actually managed to slink down even farther into the seat. He was pouting, Deaq realized. Too bad. There were things Deaq wanted to know, and he meant to find them out. Tonight.
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Deaq handed Van a bottle of water then settled down on the couch with his beer.
"Water? You get beer; I get water?"
"Um, I wasn't drugged last night. You know what the doctor said."
"Not liking you right now."
Deaq chuckled. "Just sit down. Relax a little. This isn't an interrogation, you know."
"No, I don't know. After nearly a year, you suddenly want to talk. Either you are about to tell me something I really don't want to know, or you want me to tell you something that I don't want to tell. So, which is it?"
"Van, sit." Deaq gestured toward a metal and leather contraption that vaguely resembled a chair.
"This thing is ugly," he said even as he sat down in it. "So, which is it?"
"Ray-Ray and I had some time to talk, you know, while you were out."
"So? What? What'd he say?"
"Why didn't you tell me you had a degree?"
"Never came up." There was relief on Van's face as he sat back in this chair.
"Hmm, okay. Why the 'I don't test well' thing then?"
"I don't test well. I was telling the truth."
"Because you have a learning disability."
"He told you that?"
"Yeah."
Van closed his eyes. "So, what of it?"
"That's why you've haven't taken the detective's exam, isn't it? Why you didn't enter the force with rank?"
Deaq watched his partner draw one hand over his face. He sighed, "Yeah. So?"
"I can help you. And you know that they have to make accommodations for that sort of thing, right?"
"I know."
"But you'd have to tell them, and you don't want to." It wasn't a question. He didn't need to ask a question. He didn't need to get an answer either. "Does Billie know?"
"No. Of course not. At least I don't think so. If she knows, she never said."
Deaq nodded.
"Are we done now?"
"I want to help."
"Then leave it alone." Deaq was about to protest, but Van cut him off. "For now. Let me think about it, okay?"
"For now then. Now tell me something else. What is it about fire that freaks you out so much?"
Deaq could actually see the tremor pass through his partner's body. He reached down and pulled up his left pants leg. "See this?" The scar was faint, but Deaq could make it out. He nodded, and Van went on. "Got that when fire destroyed Grandma Sarah's house. Ray-Ray had just gone to prison for the first time, and my mom started drinking, so her mom took me to live with her. It was sometime after midnight when the fire started. I remember waking up, and my covers were on fire already. What I don't remember is what started it. I made it out of the room, but Grandma ran in and tried to put out the fire. She wouldn't come out, Deaq. I called and called to her, but she just kept trying to use my blankets to smother the flames. When she collapsed, I went in after her."
"How old were you?"
"Five."
"Shit, V."
"Her nightgown caught on fire. I remember that. At some point so had my pajamas. That's where the scar came from. I managed to get her to the front door, and some neighbors came to help. The fire trucks were coming; I could hear the sirens. Grandma wasn't breathing though."
Deaq cringed and was suddenly sorry he asked. He was about to tell Van he could stop, but his partner went on before he could.
"She lived. The firemen saved her, but she spent a lot of time in the hospital. I ended up in foster care while they hunted mom down and waited for her to sober up. When she did, though, she did stay sober, so I guess that was a good thing. She had to take care of Grandma and me for a while. I tell you, though, Deaq, being on fire is scary as hell, and it hurts. You don't forget that."
"No, I don't suppose you do. I am so sorry, Van."
"Not your fault." Van gave him a weak, shaky smile.
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah, thanks."
"I really should quit, but there are a few other questions that Ray-Ray left me with."
"Damn it, what all did he say to you, man? Maybe I need to go get some fucking doughnuts and arsenic after all."
Two hours later, Deaq had perhaps a little more tipsy than he needed to be, and Van was yawning. As Van announced that he was going to take a nap, Deaq saluted him and lowered his own body down onto to the couch. A nap sounded good. He watched Van make his way up the stairs and marveled that the man was sane at all. He'd heard all about the strange succession of his mother's boyfriends and his father's girlfriends. Van even remembered all their names. He'd laughed at the story of Sandy, the aspiring actress, and was angry for Van's sake about J.D., the one that, according to both Van and Ray-Ray, Teddy got rid of. Just how Teddy did that, Van didn't know, and Deaq was pretty sure Ray-Ray wouldn't tell. At least the bastard hadn't been successful in his attempts to molest Van. Van was quick to tell him that he told his mother and Teddy right away and that the guy never got another shot at him. Of course, it was just as infuriating to Deaq that Van's mother didn't believe him.
Van smiled when he talked about Frank. Frank had taught him to play the bass and everything that Van knew about cars. He still got a Christmas card from the man, who had moved to Oregon and married a nice woman. Frank seemed to Deaq to be the only spot of normalcy in Van's life.
Eventually, Van had let Deaq move him back to the subject of his learning disability. He was amazed at Van's coping skills and was more determined than ever to help Van take and pass that detective's exam. Deaq felt his eyes drifting closed and let them.
He would never be sure exactly what woke him. There might have been some noise, but all he could really identify was a vague uneasy feeling that brought him out of a dream of broken images that really made no sense at all. He sat up and rolled his head on his shoulders, then stood and stretched. It was after midnight, he noted as he moved past the clock over the fireplace. He took the stairs slowly and approached the bedroom where he knew he would find Van. He definitely heard something then. He pushed open the door and discovered his partner in the midst of a nightmare.
Deaq moved swiftly to the bed, catching Van's flailing hands as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Shhh, it's okay, Van. Van, wake up." But his partner was still trying to pull away from his grasp, muttering about burning and fire. He even called for his grandmother once, which had Deaq struggling with his own emotions. Had his questions actually brought this on?
"Van!" he raised his voice in the hopes of reaching Van through the nightmare images. Van's eyes did open, but he was still trapped in the dream. He continued to fight Deaq's hold, and Deaq was finally forced to literally wrap himself around his panicked partner. He pinned Van's arms to his chest to keep him from leaving the bed. The two of them ended up lying on their sides while Deaq continued to try to talk Van back to reality. After several minutes, Van settled in his arms, seemingly falling back into deep sleep. Deaq waited about ten more minutes then carefully disentangled himself and leaving the bed. He wandered out of the room and into one of the other bedrooms. He tossed his body onto the bed and closed his eyes.
He tried to relax, but couldn't. He realized it was because he was too focused on listening for Van's next nightmare. Sighing, he got up and stripped the bedclothes from the bed. He dragged them behind him as he made his way back into Van's room. He eyed the floor then the king-sized bed. He had planned to pile up the sheets, pillows, and comforter on the floor, but that bed called to him. It was easily big enough for both of them. Van was all the way to one side of the bed leaving the other free. He tossed the sheets, taking with him his pillows and the comforter to that empty side. He situated the pillows the way he wanted, then wrapped the comforter around himself and carefully lay down, trying not to jostle the sleeper on the other side.
The next thing he was aware of was the morning sun peeking through the vertical blinds. Glancing next to him, he saw that Van was still sleeping. He quietly left the bed and the room, pulling the door closed behind him. He padded down the stairs and hunted up his cell phone. He found it and looked up at the clock. Damn, they were late, and yes, there was a missed call from Billie on his phone. He speed-dialed their boss. "Hey Billie." He was cut off as Billie started bitching at him. "I know, I know. Look, I'll come by and get the money and the wire. I'm going to let Van sleep."
"You could have at least called me, damn it!" she insisted.
"We were asleep. Billie. I'm sorry. We had a rough night. He had a nightmare, or maybe flashback would be more accurate, last night. I mean after that he seemed to sleep okay, but I don't know how he was doing before."
"He's sleeping okay right now though?"
"Yeah, seems to be. Anyway, I'm on my way."
"How's he going to get here? He can't drive."
"Yeah, I know he can't drive. I'll swing back by here and get him. I'll handle getting him wired, and that way he doesn't have to come into the Candy Store. First though, I have to go by my place and get some clean clothes. I'll be at there by 10:30. That'll be plenty of time to get back to Van, get him wired and get to the university. How's that?" She bitched a little more but finally said that his plan would work. "Good, see you in a bit." After hanging up, he went in search of something he could write a note on for Van. He located a paper bag and pen, then wrote:
Van,
Had to go get money. Be back soon. Do NOT leave here. You know you can't drive. I mean it, V. Do NOT leave.
Deaq
He debated where to put it and decided that on the bed right next to Van would be best. Once that was done, he slipped out the door and headed to his place for a shower and clean clothes.
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Van shifted so that he was lying on his back. He was somewhere in that odd place between asleep and awake when he got the sensation of being watched. Dream or real, he wondered. He distantly remembered thinking the house was on fire yet again last night. This feeling could be drug-related too. Or not. He'd have to open his eyes to be sure. He could tell it was daylight from behind his eyelids so he'd have to get up soon anyway. Okay, he decided, I'll open my eyes. He blinked and focused and immediately wished that he had remained asleep.
"Hello, Van. Rise and shine. We have a drug deal to finalize." Alan Foster was standing at the end of the bed. Two rather big men flanked him. This was going to go badly, Van thought as he rubbed his eyes and sat up.
"Where's Deaq?" He knew his partner had stayed the night, so where was he now?
"Oh, he left you this note. It was right on the pillow there." Foster waved a piece of what might have been a paper bag. "He says, 'Had to go get money…' yadda, yadda. That's the only important part as far as I'm concerned. He did say that he didn't want you to leave, but I think we are going to have to disappoint him on that one. Get dressed; we're leaving."
"Could I possibly get a shower first?"
A look of predatory delight crossed Alan Foster's face and made Van suddenly not want that shower after all. What the hell was that about? "Certainly. Of course, you'll understand that I'm not comfortable with leaving you alone. You're a dangerous man, Van. Can't have you getting your hands on a weapon."
Oh, so not going to happen. "Never mind. I'll get one later."
"Suit yourself."
Van frowned as he got up and grabbed his jeans from the floor, his hands searching his pockets for his cell.
"Looking for this?" His cell was in Foster's hand. "You won't be needing it for a while."
"Shit," he muttered under his breath. He could try to run. He glanced at his visitors. They hovered too close. Half-dressed and with no shoes, he didn't stand a chance of getting away. A few minutes later, and at least with his shoes in hand, he let himself be shoved into a rented van as Gary Foster pulled up in front of the house in his Jag. As the goons tied his hands and feet, Gary peeked into the van at him.
"I'll meet Deaq here, just so he'll know you're okay. Wouldn't want him to think you were driving in your compromised condition."
Alan grinned as he climbed into the driver's seat. This was definitely going badly.
