A/N: I've updated! Please, stop the voodoo, curses and hexes! I've updated!
Warning: We've reaching climax folks.
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Whew! I finally got all of you! My own fault for not being able to acknowledge you guys before this. First of, thanks to all new reviewers! Your praises are like. . .gosh, speechless! Thank you! ^o^ And to those who stayed faithful to me, damn, you guys are precious. Love you all loads!
Behold! The new chappie!
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Chapter 12
Forgive me Father, for I have sinned
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There were times when it pays to be a cop. This was one of them. Flipping on his siren, the red light flashing intermittently, Ryo used every trick in the book to push his way through New York traffic. Not a few cabs had to jump out of his way when he threatened to plow right into them when they proved to be too slow to react. Pedestrians also had the scare of their life when he stopped the car a few bare inches from the entrance of his apartment building.
Joe, the doorman, gave him a look of incredulous shock as he leapt out of the car. The engine left idle and the siren still blaring, Ryo took the steps as fast as he could, not daring to waste time with the elevator. Gasping harshly as he fought to catch his breath, Ryo cleared the four floors under a minute and pounded desperately on the door to his apartment. He called out for Bikky as fear made his voice hoarse.
He didn't have long to wait. The door swung open, nearly slamming into the frame under the force of his pounding.
"Ryo!" Bikky's eyes shone with relief. "Dee, he's-"
He barely had time to finish before Ryo was already inside and had immediately vaulted over the couch. His eyes had made out a huddled form in a dark corner of the room. He skidded to a stop before Dee but caution made him quell the instinctive urge to pull Dee into a comforting hug.
Dee had pressed back into the corner as deep as he could. Hands clasped around raised knees, he had buried his face into them, black hair flying this was and that as he shook his head over and over. A muffled muttering could barely be heard.
"No no no no. . .tried. . .not my fault. . .no . .no. ."
Ryo crouched down, hesitant and unsure whether he should touch Dee.
"Dee?" He tried instead. "Dee? Are you okay?"
His head snapped up but before Ryo could wilt with relief, Dee was grabbing his arms. His face was blanched white, the eyes red-rimmed but dry.
"I tried to save them! I did! It's not my fault!"
"What are you talking about Dee?" Ryo asked calmly. "Dee?"
But Dee had retreated back into his corner. Hands pressed against his head, he rocked back and forth in agitation, still muttering. Ryo stared at him, lost for words. Bikky came to stand behind him then and offered an explanation.
"We were just sitting around, watching tv," he explained tersely. "Dee was being quiet, not saying much. Cal was just channel surfing when we saw the news. I tried to turn it off but Dee stopped us. And then. . ." he gestured weakly.
Ryo nodded, the only sign he showed that he heard. Gently, as though approaching a wild, cornered animal, he laid a tentative hand on Dee'd shaking shoulder. "Dee," he said softly. "Dee? Can you hear me?"
The shoulder underneath his hand tensed further, the muscles bunched and quivering beneath the cotton shirt. Slowly, bit by bit, the shivering lessened but if anything, Ryo wasn't reassured. A deep pit of icy fear opened in his stomach, shooting cold shards that froze his blood. His instincts were screaming at him. Screaming that it wasn't over yet. Dee lifted his head, face so pale that he could make out the network of veins that trace a stark web underneath the skin. The bags under his eyes grew pronounced. The handsome man was a ghostly shadow of himself. The grey eyes did not see his partner that waited in quaking fear mixed anticipation. He saw something else.
Desperate hands shot out to grasp his arms in a painful vice as those grey eyes burned with icy fire that begged for understanding and forgiveness.
"I tried," the voice was raspy, hoarse with regret, despair and anger. All overlaid with shame that engulfed everything else. "He said that if I drink it, he'd let them go. But I have to drink every last drop. Sister Janice's and Kerry's. You understand why I couldn't drink it, right?"
Ryo felt his mouth move almost mechanically as he asked Dee in a voice unlike his own. It was detached, emotionless. A part of him was locked in a corner of his mind and it was screaming that it didn't want to hear. But he had to. "Drink what Dee?"
"Their blood."
Ryo wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to shut out the image of the broken man that was his lover. He wanted to erase the memory of seeing those beautiful gray eyes wide with pain and remembrance. But he couldn't.
"It was too salty. Too bitter. I couldn't drink it. Every time I did, I threw up. But I tried my best. You know that right? You saw? I tried. I really did."
And he knew that Dee saw him not as Ryo, as his lover. He was Dee's God. He had to listen to his confession and forgive his sin.
"I understand," he said dully.
Dee nodded his head wildly. "Yes! Yes, you have to understand! I couldn't drink their blood and I couldn't drink Jamie's or Tommy's or the others. I keep throwing up. I tried!"
"Yes, yes you did." Ryo nodded slowly. "Of course you did."
Please make him stop. Call him a selfish bastard but he can not bear to listen to this. Please make him stop.
". . .and they made me watch. They said I have to watch because I have to see the truth. How ugly humans really are but Jenny was screaming so loudly and she said that it hurts and I couldn't watch and they took her to the altar and. . ."
He is God. He must listen to this confession. He must forgive this wretched soul's sin. He must listen.
". . . .Courtney was praying. Praying to God but he said that God wasn't listening. But you're listening now, aren't you? And then he said that they have to stop screaming. That I have to stop crying. But I couldn't stop. And Jake kept on screaming when they broke his legs and I was crying and crying and. . ."
He must listen. He must listen.
". . . .it hurt. It was so painful. . . .but if they did it to Jamie and Courtney and Lisa and the others. . . .then I have to feel it as well right? Because it's my fault that I couldn't protect them. It's my fault. But I tried. It hurt so bad. You understand right?"
It might have been minutes. It could have been hours. All Ryo knew was that Dee could not stop telling him everything. Everything that had happened that night when he was nine. When he was nine and the world proved to be a scary place where God didn't listen and faith could not save you. But this was what he wanted, right? He wanted Dee to open up. To tell him what happened. Because no one could carry this kind of burden alone and stay sane. But Ryo feared that he was not up to carry that burden. It was too much.
"It's alright," he whispered and hugged the broken child close, hand stroking the black hair in comfort as Dee could only repeat again and again that surely he understood? That he tried? "I understand. Shh. . .it's okay." He rocked Dee back and forth slowly. "It's okay." He wanted to close his eyes but he couldn't. The confession was given, the forgiveness granted. And now he carried the weight of that sin as well. His shoulders felt bowed down under the weight.
""Mr. Maclean?" a soft voice intruded and a gentle hand squeezed his shoulder. He looked up to see Dr. Jeremiah Gooding looking down with a troubled frown. The brown eyes were warm with understanding and sympathy. "Bikky called me over. He thought you might need some help. May I?"
He nodded woodenly and pulled back enough to allow Dr. Gooding some access to Dee. Dee whimpered at the loss of contact until he shushed him gently. He watched as a syringe was filled, skin swabbed gently with alcohol and the clear liquid drained dry. Dee didn't even flinch when the needle jabbed in. When Dr. Gooding was finished, he gathered Dee back in his arms and they sat there on the floor. Just rocking back and forth. A few moments later, Dee was a dead weight in his arms.
Between Bikky and Dr. Gooding, they managed to get Dee settled on the couch, an afghan thrown over him. Ryo stayed slumped on the floor and staring down at his empty hands. He imagined that he could see them stained with blood.
"Ryo?" a child's voice that tried very hard to be grown up and not scared because the other grown ups were scared and didn't know what to do. "Ryo, do you want anything? Tea? You wanna go to sleep?"
Ryo managed a facsimile of a smile for Bikky and shook his head. "I have to call the Commissioner. Let him know about this. Can you and Dr. Gooding stay with Dee? I have to go back to the precinct."
Bikky nodded, his face suddenly as weary as a man four times his age. "Yeah, I can do that. You'll catch those bastards right? Make them pay for what they did to. . . .to Dee?" A catch in the young treble and sun-gold hair fell forwards to cover rapidly blinking eyes.
"We'll catch them. We'll make them pay."
With some final instructions to Bikky and Dr. Gooding should Dee wake up, he left the apartment and got in his still running car. Joe the doorman called out something but he ignored the old man. Pulling back from the pavement and into the traffic, he was unaware of the still shrieking siren and the flashing red light. He didn't hear the furious honking and swearing as he cut off three cars and ran 2 red lights. All he saw was wide gray eyes and a mouth chanting, begging for forgiveness which he was powerless to give.
It was a miracle that he managed to get to the precinct in one piece. He stumbled up the stairs to the detectives' offices, oblivious to the looks thrown by the uniformed cops manning the front desk. The office upstairs fell to a sudden hush as he entered, the Commissioner and his colleagues still crowded around the tv which had yet to cease its grisly coverage. The mayor was being interviewed.
"Maclean?" The Commissioner's baritone was sharp with worry and apprehension. The other detectives silently made way for him as Ryo swayed to a stop. It was the Commissioner's turn to gently grasp him and ask, "Are you okay?"
Are you okay Dee?
He made me drink their blood.
But I couldn't.
It was too salty. Too bitter. I threw up.
You understand right? You understand.
I understand.
Ryo fixed unseeing eyes on his superior, still unaware of the concerned looks he was given, of the worry they felt at his pallor and shaking limbs.
"I'm going to throw up," he croaked suddenly and ran to the bathroom. Hunched over the toilet bowl, he indeed threw up. He vomited and cried and vomited again and cried again until nothing was left. Even when there was nothing he tried to vomit again. He was sure he could still taste the coppery tang of blood in his mouth.
"Oh, god," he cried. He grasped the cool porcelain in trembling hands. "Oh god oh god oh god."
"Come on Ryo. It'll be okay. It'll be alright."
Strong hands lifted him from his hunched misery. Someone kind gave him a cold towel and he buried his face in it. Gently, he was shepherded out of the bathroom and into a dim room that smelled faintly of leather and cigarettes. Rose's office. They waited in silence until he finally lifted his face up, eyes red rimmed.
He found only Rose and Ted in the office with him and he was grateful for that. Ted passed him a mug of strong tea by the smell of it and he smiled his thanks shakily. He wrapped ice cold fingers around the hot mug and tried to drown out the taste of blood and ignore the feel of sticky liquid on his hands.
"Can you tell me what happened, Ryo?" Rose was very gentle.
He stared at them for a full minute. Could he tell them what Dee told him? He didn't feel strong enough to carry the burden. God help him but he was a coward. He could not do this alone.
So he told them.
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It took over an hour before they got the whole story and calmed Ryo down again. By the time they did, Rose himself was feeling more than a bit shaken. He understood now why Ryo was so upset. Even hearing the story secondhand nearly had him throwing up as well. Ted wasn't faring any better. His face was pale with shock and more than once he cupped his mouth close with a shaking hand, throat swallowing convulsively.
With an exchanged look, Ted and Rose both agreed that Ryo could not be asked to handle anymore for today. The man had reached his limit this time and Rose could not blame him. They had to get started immediately. There was a possibility that Dee could identify his attackers and it would provide a valuable lead. They had practically none so far, even with the Revelation drug clue.
As Ted distracted Ryo with quiet murmurs of comfort, Rose picked up his phone and dialed Ryo and Dee's home number. Ryo had told them that Dee had been sedated with the help of a doctor in their apartment building who had treated Dee's fever before. Bikky was staying with them as well. The number well memorized, Rose rubbed a hand wearily across his forehead as he waited for his call to be answered. Some days, like this day, he wondered how he managed to stay sane in this business.
Ring ring.
Ring ring.
Ring ring.
Rose frowned. The phone had been ringing for a long time. Sure enough, it finally ended with the answering machine and he stared at his phone in consternation.
"Maclean," he said slowly. "Did you tell this Dr. Gooding to bring Dee to the hospital?"
Ryo started, body suddenly tense. "No," he said hoarsely and coughed. He tried again. "No, I didn't. I told the both of them to stay at home and call me if anything happened."
"Did they?" Rose asked sharply.
Ryo shook his head. "No."
"Well," Rose said grimly. "Nobody picked up the phone."
Ryo's eyes widened. "Oh my god. Something's wrong." And he jumped out of his chair and raced out of the office. Ted and Rose ran after him, ignoring the startled cries of the other detectives. Ryo was already burning his tyres on the tarmac by the time Rose and Ted got into his car and the three rode in tense silence as once again, Ryo flipped on the light and siren. Careening dangerously through traffic, they were at Ryo's apartment building in record time. Again, Ryo parked on the pavement with Joe jumping back, cursing in surprise.
The three cops ignored him and following Ryo's lead, took the four flights of stairs up to his apartment.
The door was open.
Dread curdling in his stomach, Rose reached inside his jacket for his gun, Ted following suit but Ryo just burst into the apartment. Grimly, the two followed behind more slowly, guns held steady in their hands.
There was no one in the apartment.
No Dee, no Bikky and no kindly Dr. Gooding. The afghan was crumpled in a sad heap on the couch. Rose and Ted circled the living room warily but all was quiet. Ryo stood staring down at the couch in numb silence. He was holding a piece of paper in his hand.
"Maclean," Rose asked softly, still eyeing his surroundings carefully. "What have you got there?"
Ryo turned to him, face even paler than before and handed him the note. Nodding to Ted to guard them, he dropped his gun and held the note carefully with the very tips of his fingers. He didn't want to contaminate potential evidence.
The note was short and simple.
I found him. My Chosen One.
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to be continued
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Yes, we are about to reach the main climax. Unfortunately, this means that the story will probably end in another 1 or 2 chapters. . . . . . . . damn, I hate ending a story. Never mind, maybe I'll do a waffy FAKE fic after this. . . .god knows I've done SO much angst in this one. . . .
PS: hey, would you guys kill me if I turn this into a deathfic??? Tell me what you think. The ending is still up in the air. I got several scenarios (and the death could be anyone's) so tell me what you think you'd prefer. Jaa!
PPS: Believe me when I say, I am not the type of author who abandons a fic halfway. I will finish this! Ganbatte!