OUT THERE

Chapter Seven

"You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it." (J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix)

"I hope that's not your lunch," Stella said with concern, watching Adam pull his candy prize from the vending machine.

"Oh - no." He grinned. "Sugar rush." Ripping the packet open, he poured out a rainbow-coloured handful and crammed them straight into his mouth. "Wan' thum?"

Stella shook her head as he swallowed the candy. "You and I need to sit down and have a serious talk about nutrition..."

"I'll look forward to it." He tried to keep his face straight but a tiny twitch of the lips betrayed him. "Until then, my Skittles and I are off to the AV lab."

"You know you can't eat in there," she called after him. He waved the empty bag above his head in acknowledgement. The rest of the candy was already in his mouth.

Reaching the lab, he was pleased to find it empty. No Richard this time, thank goodness - Adam had last seen his foe slinking out of Mac's office ten minutes ago with a hangdog expression on his face. No other lab techs drifting through, checking searches; no fight for the workstation with its triple screens and - oh bliss! - its ergonomic chair... Adam slipped into what he liked to call his seat and pulled out his notebook, snapping the elastic back and flicking through to find the information that he needed. Squinting, he followed the line of writing with one finger as he logged into the site and tried out the first address that Danny had supplied.

To his great disappointment, there was a pitiful array of cameras to choose from. Two of them were down and not one of the others was angled towards the alley where Conrad Valens had been attacked. The donut bar was in full view, however, so he cycled back to the time of the mugging and watched the passers-by with interest, making fresh scrawls in his notebook whenever someone or something caught his eye. There were no hooded figures, nor was there any sign of Conrad. He widened the search, checking out the adjoining streets all the way to the subway station, staring at the early morning scenes until his eyes grew blurry and the strolling figures twisted out of shape.

There!

Adam caught his breath. There was Conrad, headphones in his ears, a smile upon his face. Not a care in the world. Unaware of the threat that stalked him...

Resisting the wild urge to call out a warning, Adam stared at the two figures in dismay. Their intent was clear. They followed Conrad as though they had been drawn to him, like predators scenting their prey. Their hoods were up and their faces were hidden, but Adam could see that the tall, skinny one had long blonde hair and the shorter one was dumpy.

He peered at the shining strands. Very long. Surely not... a girl?

Yet why should that surprise him, after all he had seen in the last few years? The sweetest face could hide the darkest secrets.

Conrad disappeared from view. Moments later, his shadows vanished too.

Unbidden, the rest of the scene played on in Adam's imagination...

"Stop," he told himself sharply. The sound of his own voice made him flinch. Looking up from the screens, he saw with relief that he was still alone. Even Mac's office, over the way, was deserted. For a moment, Adam felt as though he were the only person in the whole lab. Then Hawkes wandered past the window and waved to him, calling him back to reality. Adam fixed a cheerful grin onto his face and waved back - too late, as the doctor was already halfway to the elevator.

Saving a copy of the feed from the first scene, Adam typed in the second address. This one, he had also gleaned from Danny, along with the name of the victim. Marissa Kelly; widowed mother of three.

On the next screen, he called up the photo from her driver's licence and peered at the woman, studying her features. Unhealthy skin, limp hair. Apologetic eyes and a tightness to her lips that said she really hated having her photograph taken - or hated the world in general. Not a happy woman. Adam sighed.

"Why you?" he wondered, speaking to the picture. "What made you stand out?" There seemed to be no pattern to these muggings other than the violence itself, which was heartless.

Finding footage of Conrad the old-fashioned way had taken far too long, so Adam changed his tactics and set the facial recognition programme in motion, charting the unique proportions of Marissa's features and letting the computer search through the split-screen views in front of him. The crime scene itself was a dark and ominous stairway. A bad place that made him shudder; a shortcut inhabited by wolves. He could see them now, lurking in the shadows, faceless within their hoods. The tall one had a blade and was flicking it; in, out. In, out. And suddenly, far too soon, there was Marissa, yards away and moving quickly in spite of her heavy bags. The two wolves glanced at each other and nodded.

Adam watched in horror. His heart was almost in his throat, pounding so hard that it threatened to leap through his skin.

"No," he murmured. "Run..."

But of course, Marissa couldn't hear him.

They pulled her by her arms and she stumbled; screaming a soundless scream as she landed on the steps, facing downwards. Below her, the bags bounced away, spilling their guts on the cold, hard concrete.

And the wolves attacked.

She tried to get up, several times; each attempt more feeble than the last. But they were two and she was one; a lonely one, and no one came to help her. The whole attack lasted five minutes - Adam could see that by the time stamp in the corner of the screen. Five minutes during which he could scarcely breathe. "Do your job," he hissed, refusing to turn his face away. His sharp eyes took in every detail, just as he told them to - the blows, the knife, the cast-off - and he knew that he would not forget.

Bored at last, the two figures loped out of sight, leaving the wreckage of a life on the steps above them.

Adam slumped back into his chair and paused the feed. He was shocked to discover that his cheeks were wet.

He was even more shocked to find Danny behind him.

The two men stared at each other without a word. Finally, Danny wheeled forwards and halted beside his friend, ignoring his tear-stained face and peering at the screen instead.

"That's wicked," he growled.

Adam nodded, still mute.

"If I had my way..." Danny continued, and then cut off, almost as though he were afraid to finish the sentence - to let his words give shape and form to his fury. For a long time, there was silence. Adam could feel its weight like a stone in his chest.

"She never stood a chance," he sighed, when his voice broke free at last. "Marissa, I mean. Not from the moment they pulled her down. It was... brutal." His brain was still searching for the right way to explain what he had witnessed. "Danny - I think they're girls. At least one of them..."

"Girls commit crimes too, Adam." The gaze that Danny turned on him was bleak.

"Yes. I know that, okay; I'm not..." Adam took a breath. "I'm just telling you what I saw. Thought I saw..."

"Show me."

Rewinding through the attack was surreal. He tried to look unconcerned but Danny was sharp.

"Need a break? I can do this on my own," he offered.

"No." Adam's protest was urgent. "I'm good."

"Mac's not here," Danny told him quietly. "You don't have to pretend..."

"Back off, Danny!"

The angry words shot from his mouth before he could stop them. Adam recoiled, full of shame at his hard reaction. What on earth had made him lash out all of a sudden? That wasn't like him.

"I'm sorry," he said in a husky tone. "I'm not myself today."

"Forget it, okay?" Danny shrugged. "There's a lot of that goin' around."

Like a virus, Adam thought. "Here we are." He halted the feed once more and they both took a long, hard look at the shadowy figures.

"So these are the same two scumbags who attacked Conrad Valens?"

The word in Adam's head was far less charitable but he nodded. "Can't see their faces," he said, bringing up the saved footage from the first crime. "And the clothes are slightly different. But the build and the hair... They're the same, right?"

Instead of answering, Danny reached out and enlarged the head and shoulders of the taller perp, complete with those tell-tale locks of blonde hair.

"Girl?" Adam prompted.

"Well, I don't know of any self-respecting thug brave enough to stroll round lookin' like Barbie - so yeah, I'd say 'girl'. What?" he added defensively, catching sight of the gleam in Adam's eyes.

"Barbie? Really? You playing with dolls already, Dad?"

Danny mumbled something rude and ducked his head but couldn't hide his grin. The shared joke, lame as it was, made Adam feel much better and he smiled at his friend in return.

"Always knew I was the coolest guy in the room."

"In your dreams, you mean," Danny snorted.

"Just keep thinking that, Messer, if it makes you feel better..."

The banter was light and childish but hidden beneath was an unspoken pact between both men. Adam's strong reaction to Marissa's attack had disturbed him and he guessed that Danny felt the same way. Some feelings were intensely private and, even if they leaked out sometimes, they weren't meant for sharing. Adam knew that, once they left the room, it would be as though the whole conversation had never taken place. Only the evidence would remain.

-xx-

Work ended and Adam set off for home - but somewhere in between the crime lab and his apartment, he paused the car for a moment and then turned the wheel in a new direction. He couldn't pinpoint what made him change his mind, but he guessed that it had something to do with the footage he had seen that afternoon.

The hospital was busy. Adam darted through the crowds with haste; the steady throng of people making his head spin. To his exhausted brain, it felt as though every one of them was watching him, and he kept his eyes low. He thought he knew where Conrad's room was, but memory, it seemed, was also playing tricks on him and, after several unfortunate mistakes, the last of which led him straight into a storage closet, Adam knew that he would be forced to seek help.

The little nurse that he approached seemed to take an instant shine to him. "You family?" she asked, as she trotted beside him, determined to lead him there herself.

"Ah... no."

"Friend, then." She nodded, happy with her own interpretation. Adam chose not to correct her. He wasn't entirely sure that Mac would approve of his unsanctioned visit - though perhaps he would understand the need behind it.

The nurse left him outside Conrad's door and hurried back to her station, though not without one last glance over her shoulder. Adam nodded back and then peered through the window, suddenly confused.

What was he doing here? Did he think that Conrad would welcome his intrusion?

"Hi there," he muttered. "Remember me? I'm the one who took those embarrassing photos... bet you were hoping to see me again, right?" The laugh that followed was nervous and loud enough for Conrad to hear it, even through the closed door. He opened his one good eye and stared directly at Adam.

Resisting the urge to duck, Adam offered him an uncertain smile. No going back, then. He turned the handle and the door swung open.

"Who's there?" Conrad asked warily.

Dammit, Adam thought, recalling the glasses from his ill-fated printing session. The boy was short-sighted. He hadn't seen Adam at all...

"Um... Adam Ross. From yesterday? I came with Lindsay..?" Great explanation, he chided himself, but Conrad gave a stiff nod of recognition.

"Wha' d' you need?" he asked, his battered mouth still struggling to release the words.

"Oh! Sorry, no - I didn't come for... I just wanted to see how you were. You know, if there was something I could do." Difficult to explain to the boy, when he couldn't explain it to himself. "Can I sit down?"

The lop-sided shrug made him wince.

Perching on the edge of a plastic chair, he studied a cluster of old scars on his right hand for a moment and then raised his head. "Thing is, I know what it's like," he said earnestly. "Lying in bed while the world moves around you. Feeling so wrong that you don't think you'll ever be free of it."

Conrad froze.

"You do...?" he whispered.

Adam nodded. Sensing that there was more to come, he kept silent, waiting.

"I'm afrai' to sleep," Conrad admitted. "They gi' me drugs, but I don' wan' them. I don' wan' to close my eyes..."

"Because of the monsters." Adam held his gaze with growing confidence. "Sometimes they're out there, it's true. But sometimes, you know, it's just dreams. And dreams can be kind as well." An image popped into his head; Elma shaking with fear. He pushed it away. "You need to sleep, Conrad, okay? Your brain wants to deal with what happened to you. The sooner it does that, the sooner you'll heal."

A gruff voice spoke from the doorway. "That's what I've been trying to tell him."

"Oh! I'm sorry, sir." Adam lurched to his feet.

"What for?" the old man said, peering across the room. He was short, with bandy legs and far more wrinkles than Adam had ever seen before on one person's face.

"Taking your seat. Intruding..."

"You came to visit my grandson. Good for you. No apology needed. I will take that chair, though..." He shuffled towards Adam, who hopped aside politely. "Nice to see that Conrad has some friends. I was beginning to wonder."

"I'm not..."

"This is Ada'," Conrad intervened, much to his surprise.

The old man held out his hand as he reached the seat. Adam shook it gravely. "Gerald Valens."

"Adam Ross." He risked a glance at the boy in the bed, whose one good eye was begging him to play along. With a flash of insight, he saw the full extent of Conrad's loneliness.

Gerald settled his bones. "Go on then, Adam Ross," he instructed.

"Go on?"

"With your good advice. Tell my grandson what he needs to hear. He won't take it from me."

"Gra'pa," Conrad sighed.

Stuck in the middle of what appeared to be a family disagreement, Adam felt distinctly out of place. Now he knewfor certain that he shouldn't have come.

Gerald nudged him in the leg, making him jump. "Go on, young man."

Moving closer to the bed, Adam faltered. "Do you... Would it help to talk about what happened? You don't have to," he added hastily.

Conrad tried to turn his head away but the movement was too painful. Instead, he closed his eye. "No."

"No, it wouldn't help?"

"No, I can't." A tremor shook him like an aftershock. "It's not there, Ada'. Tha's why I fee' so scared. No faces. How wi' I know...?"

"...if you see them again," Adam finished. He felt a twinge of guilt. Right there in his mind's eye was the image of Conrad's attackers. And yet, if he mentioned what he knew - if he spoke a single word about it... The image changed, and Mac's face glared at him. "We'll get them, Conrad," he said softly, leaning in. "I promise."

"What do you mean?" said a sharp voice behind him. Adam froze. That would teach him not to make assumptions. Conrad's grandfather had perfect hearing? Not the most welcome surprise of the day.

"Um - pardon?" he mumbled, stalling for time.

"You know what I said, boy. 'We'. Who's 'we'? You a cop? You don't look like one." The wrinkled old man had turned into a rottweiler.

"Gra'pa," Conrad said faintly, but Gerald, it seemed, was relentless.

"This some kind of interview? Did you get in here under false pretences? Don't you tell me any more lies, Adam Ross - if that's even your name."

For one uncomfortable moment, Adam wondered if he really could - or should - bluff his way out. Assume another name and make his escape. But an honest man makes a terrible liar and he knew beyond all doubt that he could never let himself down that way.

"Yes," he said quietly. "My name is Adam Ross. I work at the New York Crime Lab. Call my boss, if you don't believe me, okay? His name is Detective Mac Taylor. I was here yesterday with my colleague and ever since then... well, I couldn't stop thinking about your grandson. I came here to see how he was; that's all. I'm sorry if I caused offence. I'll leave now."

Dropping his eyes, he headed for the door, feeling strangely dignified in retreat. He hadn't done anything wrong - had he?

Of course, mentioning Mac's name had probably been a mistake...

Behind him, there was nothing but silence. Maybe he really had stolen the last word, for once in his life. As the door swung shut on the awkward scene, Adam risked a glance through the tiny window - and paused. Gerald had moved to the bed and was leaning over his grandson, hands trembling as they tried to find an unbroken, unbruised place to touch the boy's face.

A sudden wave of sadness washed over Adam, violent and cold. Turning away, he trudged back down the corridor and out of the hospital.

Time to go home.

-xx-

(Disclaimer: I don't own Skittles. But now I want some...)

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed and favourited after the last chapter. Your support means so much! I sympathise with anyone who can relate to Adam and the hiccups. And I loved the strong reactions to Richard - they really made me smile. More from that charming fellow later on in the story, and I don't think you'll like him any better for it... In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading.

And thank you, as always, to Lily Moonlight and 1917farmgirl, who are always full of advice and enthusiasm.