Fake Fan Fiction ❯ FAKE in Love: Act XIX, Goodnights and Goodbyes ❯ Chapter 4

Warning and Disclaimers: I'm not Sanami Matoh. I do not own FAKE. I am making no money off of this. Please sue me, I would really enjoy the chance to laugh in your face as I offer up the three pennies that I own outright. Fool.

 

 

They stood in their finest uniforms, every collar starched, every shirt pressed, every jacket smoothed. A field of blue and black, crisp white gloves rising for a moment to the flashing brim of well polished hats. It was beautiful and terrible and so many things that they knew they would carry with them forever.

The air was cold, but no one said a word about it as they waited in the early morning light, traffic blocked off from church to graveyard for the long procession. Quiet spread unnaturally around them, all the world seeming to pause for a moment against their grief. Taps played softly, something quiet and low that haunted long after the player stopped. Then the church doors were opened, the little building too small to hold everyone who came, and those who stood at attention in the street couldn't help but take a step closer when the casket began its slow march towards them.

He was one of their own, and they would bury him as a brother.

They walked slowly, their steps loud upon the pavement, their path lined with expectant and sympathetic faces. None spoke, none paused. Later, if they wished, they could claim it was the cold that reddened their eyes, but no one would ask. Now they moved into the cemetery, everything still quiet, everything still cold, and watched as he was laid to rest.

A quiet eulogy was read over him, a blessing, and then another procession. Each filed respectfully past and dropped a handful of soil down upon the coffin. Soft weeping cut through the air now, but still they didn't pause and then all left what was left of his family to grieve.

 

Ryo unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and leaned back against his locker, Dee sprawled next to him as the 27th's locker room filled with the sounds of officers changing. They were still subdued, their conversations carried out in quiet tones and broken phrases. Ryo closed his eyes a moment and then tugged off his stiff white gloves.

“It was a nice service,” Dee murmured.

Ryo nodded and slid out of his heavy dress jacket, a dark band still wrapped around the sleeve that he fingered for a moment. There were other funerals on his mind. Other losses that still hurt.

“Yeah,” he said finally.

“Rose's eulogy was nice,” Dee said softly.

Ryo nodded and then stared up at the ceiling.

“Bikky know we're going to be home late?” Dee asked.

Ryo nodded again and Dee sighed.

“Good. Let's get shitfaced.”

 

Mike Johnson.

An ordinary enough name for an ordinary enough guy. He worked hard a lot of his life, went through the police academy and made his way to New York City. A street cop, a uniform, he patrolled and did his best to do what was right. No more a hero than most of the other cops, no less a hero than all of them, most people didn't know him from all the other Mikes or Johnsons in the world. He was just…a guy.

He died serving his community and it came as no surprise to everyone who heard that every witness was amazed by what he did. He saved a life that day, maybe more, and while some would call that a victory, some would still say it was hollow.

Mike Johnson.

 

They were well on their way to being drunk when Ryo held up his gin and sour and motioned for silence. A hush fell over their table and he took a deep breath before he spoke.

“Here's to being a cop,” he said quietly. “And to all the good men we've lost.”

“Amen,” Dee murmured.

Their glasses clinked softly together, the solemn toast spreading through the bar, now filled mostly with patrons who had wandered in from the funeral. For a minute it almost seemed that Ryo had pulled the life out of the place, but the soft conversation soon returned, became a buzz, and then drifted back to the loud levels that cops so often reach when liquor, high emotions, and a long day are added in. Dee leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. He paused a moment and then held the pack out to Ryo.

Ryo stared at it and then sighed with resignation as he pulled one out and leaned forward for Dee to light it for him. Dee chuckled softly as Ryo pulled a long blast of smoke into his lungs and closed his eyes for a moment before he exhaled.

“You're going to be in trouble if you start smoking,” Dee warned. “You like it too much.”

Ryo smiled a little and shrugged.

“I don't do well with lighters so that should help,” he said.

“I knew you were corrupting him,” Drake said as he shook his head. “Damn you Laytner, we need a few good men on the force, stop dragging us all down to your level.”

“Hear, hear,” JJ toasted loudly and slung his arm around Tim's neck.

“My level?” Dee echoed. “What the hell is that, Parker?”

“He means stop infecting Sandra Dee with all your vices,” Diana drawled lightly.

“God I hate that nickname,” Ryo grumbled. “What am I going to have to do to get rid of it?”

“Well, smoking in public is probably helping,” Ted pointed out.

“You could start foisting off all your paperwork on Dee,” Drake offered.

“Or jump Rose,” JJ laughed.

Diana almost choked on her soda.

“Hey, hey,” Dee said loudly, a little anger in his voice. “Now who's trying to corrupt my Ryo?”

Ryo laughed and leaned back in his chair, the cigarette again rising to his lips. He stared up a moment and listened as they talked, a smile pulling at his features when he finally looked back at them. His eyes swept over the table, taking all the faces, all the people he had come to care about. And all the people who could die so easily.

His smiled fell brittlely away and he smoked silently now as he toyed with his drink. God he hated funerals. It made him think of the past and his parents. And now he was thinking about who else he'd have to bury. Dee's hand suddenly pressed at his lower back, dark eyes flickering to his partner and the knowing look on his face. Ryo tried to smile again, but Dee just shook his head and lightly brushed his thumb back and forth.

“Whelp,” Dee said with a long stretch. “I think that's about it for us.”

“You pansy ass bastard,” Drake said chipperly. “You can't bail on us now.”

“Oh but I am,” Dee said and winked at Diana. “See you soon, sea witch.”

“Yeah, yeah, Cro-Magnon,” she said with a dismissive wave. “You just wait. You'll get yours.”

 

Even with the alcohol pumping through their veins it was still cold when they stepped outside. Where was the spring? Dee lit another cigarette as they climbed into the car, Ryo heading for home with a tired expression on his face. At the first red light Dee gently brushed his fingers down his partner's arm and drew a small smile from Ryo's lips.

“It's okay,” Dee said. “We were all thinking it.”

“I know,” Ryo answered softly. “But I…I was thinking about Bikky too.”

“Oh?”

Dee leaned back in his seat and smoked, the car now rolling ahead with traffic.

“We don't have anything set up for him,” Ryo said, his voice low and blank. “What if…what if something happens to us? What happens to Bikky?”

“Yeah,” Dee said and his tone matched Ryo's.

“I just started thinking about all the stupid risks we take, and I know that we aren't going to stop…”

Ryo's hands tightened around the wheel and he shook his head.

“Dee, I've…I've been thinking about this for a while, ever since…”

His voice trailed away and both felt the tension shift in their spines at the silent mentioning. Dee closed his eyes and he could see that cold night too clearly suddenly. He couldn't take that, not tonight, not after today.

“Yeah,” he said again, his voice distant. “Okay.”

“How much longer can we put this off?” Ryo murmured. “Bikky's fourteen. I was four years older, I was almost an adult, and they didn't have anything planned. I don't want to know that Bikky would be…stuck like that.”

Dee's hand again slid out to rest on Ryo's arm.

“Elena fought for you then, Ryo,” Dee said gently. “She'd fight for Bikky now.”

“She shouldn't have to. We should have done this a long time ago,” Ryo said and a little anger crept into his voice. “This should have all been taken care of.”

“It's not something people want to think about,” Dee said and squeezed Ryo's sleeve. “It's okay, Ryo. We'll take care of it now.”

Ryo seemed to deflate suddenly and he nodded as he parked the car. Eulogies dueled in both their memories. They sat in silence a moment and then Ryo took a deep breath.

“I didn't really know him,” Ryo confessed softly.

“I didn't either,” Dee answered.

 

Dee tossed his clothes in the hamper, a pair of black sweats clinging to his legs. He watched Ryo peel out of his dress uniform and tug on a battered pair of grey shorts. Dee smiled slightly; comfort clothes. Ryo swore the damn things were the ugliest piece of clothing he owned, but whenever he was stressed or just needed to relax, out they came. Dee shook his head as Ryo started to dig for a shirt and caught one wrist in his hand.

He smiled at Ryo and tugged him to the bed. They climbed underneath the covers and wrapped around each other, skin pressed to skin as each breathed the other in. Dee's hand slid down to pet over Ryo's lower back before drifting lower. His fingers toyed with the grey waistband for a moment and then carefully dipped lower. Dee's thumb began to gently brush over the soft top of the crevasse of Ryo's ass. Ryo lightly kissed Dee's chest and burrowed closer.

“I love you,” Dee murmured.

“I love you too,” Ryo answered.

“I hate feeling like this,” Dee said softly. “I hate worrying like this. It makes it…”

“I know,” Ryo said.

Dee sighed and his thumb again caressed over Ryo's skin.

“I keep thinking of…other times,” Dee said, his voice still a quiet burr.

A long moment passed as Dee shifted closer.

“Ryo…that night, when the orphanage…burned…if I hadn't stopped…would you have let me?”

Ryo took a deep breath. The brush of Dee's thumb had stopped being a long light stroke and was now a nervous little rub against him. Sometimes Dee was afraid to talk about the past, sometimes it seemed like he was worried that somehow he would ruin the present by looking back. It was a problem they shared. Emotions from that night welled up in the back of Ryo's mind; the feel of Dee's sadness, the warmth of his touch, and the fear and nervous excitement that had dueled in Ryo's chest. He closed his eyes and tightened his arms around Dee.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I would have.”

Dee was silent a moment and then his hand slid back up Ryo's body to pull him flush against Dee. Ryo shifted until his lips found Dee's, a long slow kiss that gave each the time to carefully explore the other. They pulled back slowly, their heads sharing one pillow as they held on tightly and drifted to sleep.

 

It rained that night.