Loyalty | By : Macx Category: +. to F > FAKE Views: 1986 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own FAKE, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
AUTHOR: Macx and Lara Bee
DISCLAIMER: FAKE belongs to Sanami Matoh and whoever else claims them.
We don't. We just play with them a little. No money made, honestly!
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not our first language; it’s German. This is the best we
can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a
prize <g> The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know
how trustworthy those thingies are.....
ARCHIVE: yes
WARNINGS:
#1 This is a sequel to The Truth and Other Lies, which explains how
and why and when Dee and Ryo became what they are now, and especially the
relationship between Dee and Barclay!
#2 the story deals with the paranormal
#3 Berkely Rose was translated as Ross Barclay in the German version
of Fake and we like the name a lot better, so we go with it. Sorry to you
all, but you have to live with that ;)
TYPE: yaoi
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Dee/Ryo
FEEDBACK: empty inbox seeks emails <g>
Important: this story assumes that JJ knows what Ryo and Dee are. Lara
and I wanted to write that story before publishing this one, but circumstances
have it that the JJ story isn't even remotely close to being finished and
we wanted to at least give you people Loyalty to read <g>
What happens in the JJ story isn't important for Loyalty. You just
have to know that JJ knows about Dee and Ryo. 'nuff said. On to the story
;)
It was late. Late enough to warrant going home, but too early in Ryo's
opinion to already give up. He knew the evidence was somewhere down here,
among the hundreds of boxes the officers at the scene had secured throughout
the raid. Somewhere in here was the vital piece of information he needed
to close a case, to place the suspect behind bars, to make the case airtight.
Sighing, he sat back and worked a kink out of his neck. A short glance
at the wall clock told him he had been down here for five hours straight.
His stomach reminded him that he had missed food altogether, and he briefly
wondered where Dee was. His partner had been on another case, one that
was apparently linked to his own, but he had been out of the precinct all
day long, chasing witnesses, getting statements, and reevaluating a crime
scene.
Maybe he should call it a night.
He was tired, he was seeing things that weren't there, and the evidence
wasn't running away.
Stretching, McLane got up and walked out of the evidence room to one
of the water coolers. His steps sounded hollow in the silent hallway. There
was no one left in the precinct after shift, except the few who put in
overtime and maybe Barclay. The commissioner had department matters to
take care of and from their conversation lately, Ryo knew that pressure
from upstairs was keeping his superior busy. Budget cuts were always hanging
over the precinct and Barclay was fighting for every dollar. Currently,
he was winning, thanks to their exceedingly good crime solving rate.
Ryo got himself a drink of water, then turned to walk back up the stairs
to his office. It was on the fourth floor and there was no elevator, but
it was one way to keep fit, he mused. Just quick look at his desk, then
get his things and leave. That was the plan. Those plans were interrupted
when suddenly someone stepped out of the shadows. He stopped, his hand
flying to his gun.
"Harding?" he blurted, recognizing the man.
And not in a good way.
Ron Harding was a paranormal, a magic user, and an unstable one at that.
He had used his powers for criminal activities in the past and Ryo had
been hard pressed to cover up some of his crimes in the last year or so.
That had been before he had known Barclay was an ally too and could help.
Still, he had thought Harding was away for good.
He had been wrong.
"McLane," Harding said coldly.
He was heavy-set man in his forties, his eyes burning with the insanity
that raged in his mind, and as always dressed in a jogging suit. The man
seemed to have only them.
Ryo had an uneasy feeling as he watched the magic-user. Harding wasn't
strong, but he was talented enough to be a threat. His main power was levitation
and while he had no control over it, ducking low flying objects was hazardous
to someone's health.
"You son of a bitch," Harding growled.
"Harding…"
"You made my life miserable, McLane."
"You made yourself miserable, Harding. You committed crimes…"
"And you were the good little ally and reported them! You found me and
you handed me over to them!"
'Them' had been those of the paranormal community in New York who took
care of the ones who endangered their hidden status.
"It was my job."
"You asshole ruined my life!"
Ryo could feel the magic crackle around the man. Something caught his
attention and his eyes widened. Levitation, he reminded himself. Harding
could levitate small objects. And currently he was levitating whatever
wasn't big enough to elude his grasp. Most of it looked like screws and
bolts… Ryo's eyes flew to the open workman's box that had been left in
the corridor. There had been a leak and someone had been called to fix
it. Now his tool box had turned into an arsenal of weapons.
Things happened like in a flash.
Harding grinned manically as he launched what he had at Ryo.
Ryo jumped aside, ducking, but he felt something burn along his thigh,
leaving a deep groove.
Someone caught him around the waist, flinging them both back.
There was a cry of pain.
He was falling --
-- down the short flight of stairs he had climbed from the basement.
The air was driven out of his lungs.
Something pinned him down.
Then there was a brief moment of nothingness, of just the hectic panting,
harsh breaths, trying to get air into his lungs. His body hurt, was bruised
in too many places, and his thigh burned.
Ryo forced himself to open his eyes, his inner voice screaming at him
to get moving because Harding was still somewhere, probably coming after
him. As if whoever had caught him was reading his mind he was pulled up
and pushed against the wall.
"Move!"
He knew the voice, but for now he could only obey the command. His legs
seemed uncoordinated as he staggered along the corridor, someone pushing
him. His left thigh hurt abominably and he knew he was bleeding. Blood
was gluing his pants to his skin. Something hit the wall beside him and
he heard a curse. Again the voice.
He knew it.
Barclay.
Barclay was down here with him.
They were staggering, running, stumbling through the maze of basement
corridors, heading deeper into the underground that was the lower floor
of the 27th precinct. Home to the criminalistics lab, the evidence rooms,
heating, numerous storage rooms and the archive.
A door loomed up in front of him and suddenly he was in the evidence
room, falling inside, colliding with the boxes. His knees painfully scraped
along the floor.
"McLane!"
Harding's voice, screeching with insanity and fury. The man was running
around the corridors, opening doors, searching… looking for him.
"Ryo?"
Not Harding. A voice he knew, a pair of lips next to his ear. He fought
the confusion inside his mind, let adrenaline take over, let the police
officer come to the forefront. Ryo's head came up and he blinked as he
discovered two ice blue eyes looking at him out of a pale, drawn face,
covered in a sheen of sweat.
"Do you have your gun?" Barclay demanded tersely.
"Yes…" he managed. "But he's a magic-user…"
"I noticed."
And Ryo noticed the tremor in the usually so even tenor. His eyes flickered
over the tall man and widened as he discovered the stain in the abdominal
area.
"You're hurt…"
Barclay shook his head, his face drawn even tighter. "Not too badly.
We'll take care of this guy first. Grudge?" he demanded.
"Kinda. Ally work. I found he was behind a series of burglaries. I thought
he had been taken care of."
The pale features settled. "Thought as much."
They heard doors banging open, Harding screaming for Ryo, and he was
coming closer.
"Not much time. How good is he?" Barclay asked.
"He can levitate small things. Biggest I ever saw was a type writer,
but not for long. He's a bit of a flake in that regard."
Ryo frowned as he looked at his superior. The man was growing more and
more pale, was sweating, and the pain was quite visible in his eyes and
the tightness in his features.
The door to the evidence room flew open and Barclay whirled around,
standing suddenly between Ryo and their attacker. Harding looked like a
mad man. His eyes were wild, his hair in disarray, and his lips curled
back in a snarl.
"I want McLane!" he growled.
"You're under arrest, Harding," Barclay told him evenly, leveling his
gun at him.
The man laughed. "Do you even know what I can do, you fool?"
Barclay cocked his head a little. "Annoy people?"
The magic-user hissed in anger and a folder launched toward Barclay,
but he warded it off with one arm. Paper scattered everywhere. But Ryo
saw that Barclay was unbalanced, stumbling, fighting to stay upright, and
no match for Harding at all. As more paper rained down on him, he tried
to duck away, but something flew at the blond and a scream told Ryo that
it had hit him quite hard.
Barclay collapsed back against him, taking them both down. Ryo's instincts
went into overdrive as he pulled his gun and fired at the crazed magic-user,
but he only succeeded in making him look for cover. It was just a little
breathing space, but it was enough to pull Barclay back behind some boxes.
"You're only prolonging the inevitable!" Harding yelled, voice high
and unstable.
Dee! Ryo thought desperately. God, please pick this up. I
know you can. I know I'm frightened enough to blast a hole into any shield
you might have. Please…
He looked at the blond man at his side. Barclay was barely conscious,
his eyes glassy, breathing hard. His face was bathed in sweat, his shirt
clinging to his chest with the dampness. One of his hands was pressed against
his side. The dark suit jacket looked wet and something red peeked out
underneath. It was his dress shirt, stained… with…
"Let me have a look," Ryo whispered and carefully peeled Barclay's fingers
away.
It was ugly. Ugly and large, bleeding heavily. Something had hit the
commissioner in the left abdominal area, and whatever it was, it still
stuck inside the bleeding flesh. A shot wound or worse. It was close to
the still visible scar from the shrapnel that had injured Barclay not too
long ago. Whatever Harding had launched at them upstairs, it had entered
the man's body with the same effect a bullet would have had.
"Hang on," he pleaded.
"Have no… intention to... let… go," came the gasp.
Barclay groaned through clenched teeth, eyes screwed shut, as Ryo pushed
away the soaked fabric of his shirt. He had to still the bleeding…
"I'm sorry, sir," he murmured as he pulled off his tie, bunched it up
and pushed down hard on the wound.
Barclay screamed, muscles cording in his neck. One hand shot forward,
clenching around Ryo's wrist like a vice, intent on crushing him.
"C'mon, McLane. Make it easy on yourself. Your friend might even live
if you give up now. It won't hurt… much," Harding taunted.
"My words," a new voice growled.
Dee!
Ryo felt elation course through him. Dee was here! Thank god for the
bond.
And then he felt the gathering of a much more familiar magic. Dee's
magic. It was coursing through him like it was coursing through his lover
and partner. He felt its cold fire, the control his lover had over it,
and then it struck out.
There was a brief cry as Harding was suddenly on the receiving end of
a shaman's abilities, then a hard thud of a body hitting the wall, then
the floor.
"Dee!" Ryo yelled. "I need help over here! Barclay's hurt!"
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