Fake Fan Fiction ❯ FAKE in Love: Act XVI, Healing and Memory ❯ Chapter 1

Warnings and Disclaimers: Not Sanami Matoh, not making any money off this, and the story is set at the end of the last Act. Watch out for the lemony goodness kids and stop bitching about the length of time between updates. I have a life—somewhat.

 

Dee Laytner sighed and ran a hand over his stubble covered chin as he stared up at the sky. It was going to snow again.

Vibrant green eyes swept out to survey the woodland landscape that surrounded him, everything already buried beneath a heavy blanket of white. It looked like something out of a Christmas card or a Rockwell painting. Dee frowned a little and lit a cigarette.

The place was quiet, quieter than Dee had ever thought any place really could be. He suspected that summer would find it alive with crickets and little animals, but in the dead of winter there was nothing but the distant whisper of the wind. For the first time in his life, Dee could understand the phrase `deafening silence.'

When Ryo had first told him about this place, Dee had only been half-listening, his attention focused on the sound of a car horn below their apartment. Then Ryo had said the magic word; quiet. Dee had been on the next plane up.

An old man had met him at the rickety little airport, a flannel cap and stained jacket wrapped around him in a fashion that was so natural Dee couldn't find it in him to laugh. The man looked like he belonged up in this backwoods place, like he was perfectly comfortable with the forest that hedged everything in, and Dee had liked him for it. They rode to the little house mostly in silence, the grizzled man only asking him where he was from and if he had known Ryo's parents. That had been it.

The little cabin had more drifted out of the forest then emerged, almost like a deer too hesitant to be caught in the open. It was pieced together from thick logs and shingled in cedar. Again, it was almost like something in a Christmas card with its little chimney and the old dried up well in the front yard. Dee stared at it, suddenly wondering if this was a bad idea, but he hadn't really had much of a choice. He followed the old man inside.

The cabin was sparsely furnished, but it was dry and snug and warm. The loft contained a fluffy bed covered in down comforters and the fireplace in the little living room was big and inviting. The kitchen had a stove and refrigerator, and the old man told Dee that he was being spoiled as he lugged an electric coffee pot in with him. Dee had smiled distantly. The cabin was connected to the local power and phone lines, but also had a gas powered generator in back. The old man had shown him how to fire it up.

He also showed Dee where the firewood and axe were, explained what to do if the pipes froze up (dear God, could that actually happen?), gave him the rundown on where to buy more supplies in town, and handed over the keys to the shaky truck. Then he slapped Dee gruffly on the shoulder, told him to call if he needed anything, and set off into the thick trees.

Dee hadn't seen another living person all week. The snow had come and now all traces of the outside world had been carefully blanketed over. He supposed now that he should have been scared. He could have fallen down the short ladder to the loft, he could have slipped and cut his foot off with the axe, hell, he could have tried to fire up the generator and blown the place up. He was no woodsman, he'd barely spent any time in his life outside of New York City, and even then it had just been for a few days at a time.

But he hadn't been afraid; to be honest, he hadn't even really thought about it much. His brain knew was he was there for, and he had spent his time on that.

His eyes closed a little as he thought on it again. A kid. A kid with a gun. A kid that, in his nightmares, looked a little too much like Bikky. A kid that, in his darkest nightmares, looked a little too much like Bikky shooting Ryo. Dee swallowed thickly and pulled himself away from the window.

It was going to snow again, and that meant another night tucked safely inside with nothing but a book and a restless conscious to keep him company. Dee sighed and scraped his palms over his face, a soft hiss of breath moving between his lips.

“I didn't have a choice,” he murmured.

He was starting to wonder if maybe he shouldn't try and keep some kind of tally of how many times he said that. It had become his own personal mantra. Dee shook his head with irritation and stalked to the coffee maker. Spoiled or no, he was damn well going to make use of the thing.

People handled their guilt in different ways, some men faced it down, and some men ran away from it. Dee Laytner had never really been big on guilt. If he did something wrong, he took responsibility for it and he did what he had to to make it right. Guilt wasn't…right. He supposed that's why it always hit him so hard, why it dug into him with sorrow filled fingers and whipped up every noisy thought in his head until he couldn't think straight.

Dee was a quiet man, a fact that might shock the hell out of a few people who knew him, but it was the God's honest truth. When he needed to think, when he really felt something, he needed silence for it. In a crowded orphanage it had been a difficult thing to achieve, and had sent him climbing to attics and swinging up onto rooftops just to get a little peace. Mother used to joke that the harder he felt something, the higher he went. Well it seemed to still be damned true, because he had taken this fucking hard and it had flown him all the way upstate.

He'd been up here a week, struggling with what he had done and trying to decide just where he was supposed to go next. He had a job waiting for him; IA had cleared him of any wrong doing and had only suspended him with pay for a few days. All the other cops were sympathetic, and there hadn't been any angry phone calls or raging articles in the newspaper. Nobody in the whole damn world seemed upset that he had shot that kid. It made the guilt curdle in his stomach.

He'd left before anything had been closed on the case, at the time he really hadn't cared. Dee had just wanted to get as far away from it as he could and find that quiet that his screaming head wouldn't let him get in the city. But now, after days of sorting things out and trying to piece together just what he felt about all this, Dee wanted to know.

What had the kid been doing there? How was he involved? Had they managed to find any connections that would lead them to other suspects? Was Ryo safe?

Dee blinked at that last thought.

Of course Ryo was safe. The man was a trained sharpshooter and a decorated officer. Dee winced as his mind easily pulled up that terrifying moment when Dee had been certain that everything was going to be taken away from him. What if he hadn't been there?

And suddenly he'd come full circle.

“I didn't have a choice,” Dee murmured.

If he hadn't shot, if he hadn't been there, there'd be no Ryo.

Dee lurched at the thought and he had to grip the counter to steady himself. That would be worse than death. Ryo was everything he wanted, everything he loved, and he'd be damned if he'd ever let anyone touch Ryo.

Dee smiled suddenly; that went for the brat as well.

So there he stood, back at square one, boredly pouring himself a cup of coffee before he returned to the kitchen table.

Ryo had called earlier in the day, Dee's cell phone was still blinking absently with the unheard message. Dee felt guilty about pretending not to notice the call, but not guilty enough to actually answer. He spun the phone in his hands and finally flipped it open.

He frowned as he ran the gauntlet needed to get to his message and finally relaxed into a kitchen chair to listen to his lover. Despite everything, despite the distance that Dee had forced between them, Ryo's voice was still just as soothing and erotic as it had ever been. Dee chuckled softly and took a long pull from his cigarette.

“Hey Dee…”

Dee's smile grew a little; damn he liked how that man said his name.

“I hadn't heard from you for a while, so I thought I'd just call...”

“And check in on me?” Dee asked with another chuckle.

“I wanted to make sure that you were managing in the great white wilderness. The weather reports say you've been getting a lot of snow…”

“You have no idea,” Dee said with a grin.

“I hope you're keeping warm enough…”

Dee's eyes flicked to the roaring fireplace and he nodded slightly. Check.

“Knowing you, you've already uncovered that bottle of schnapps that Mr. Parks hides behind the fridge, so I'm sure you're enjoying the snow…”

Schnapps? Dee frowned and glanced over at the fridge. He'd have to remember to pull that bad boy out. And here the old man had lamented that Dee would have to suffer through the snowstorms with only hot chocolate to keep him warm, the cagey old bastard.

“No snow here, just lots of slush,” Ryo said and sighed heavily. “JJ came in drenched yesterday after a taxi sprayed him…”

Dee snorted laughter and shook his head.

“I miss you…”

Ryo's voice was suddenly soft. The laughter died instantly and Dee closed his eyes.

“I miss you too,” he whispered.

A long moment passed and Dee could practically feel Ryo wishing for him to answer. Then there was a soft sigh and a return to forced cheerfulness.

“We, um…Bikky and I…we went out the other night. Bikky wanted Chinese, so we went to that place, you know? The one down by the museum…”

Dee kept his eyes closed, but a small smile tugged at his lips. Yes, he knew the one.

“We, uh, ordered our usual…God, you probably don't care, I'm sure I'm just boring you…”

“Don't stop,” Dee encouraged.

“But anyway, we ordered our usual and neither of us had ever realized just how much you eat...”

Strained laughter brushed over him and it pricked Dee's heart. Ryo took a deep steadying breath and Dee felt his own chest rise in answer.

“Work's…fine. Our office is spotless, you won't be able to find a damn thing when you come back…”

Dee flinched slightly. No pause in Ryo's voice, no hesitation, his partner was positive that he was going to come back to work. Dee wished he had that kind of confidence. A long moment of silence passed and Dee heard the soft sound of Ryo swallowing thickly.

“Rose tried to give me another partner today,” Ryo said quietly. “I told him that I…that you'd…”

There was a long pull of air then and some shuffling as Ryo adjusted the phone.

“I told him no,” Ryo said then. “I just said no…”

Dee's hand tightened around the phone and his eyes clenched tighter.

“I don't want another partner,” Ryo breathed. “I want you, Dee. I want…us…”

Silence spread between them like the snow outside; cold and vast and so heavy that nothing could really break it.

“Call me, Dee,” Ryo said softly. “I love you.”

Dee bit his lip for a moment and leaned his head against the table.

“I love you too,” he murmured.

The phone was suddenly heavy in his hand as the automated options played in his ear. Dee distantly saved the message, sure he would want to hear it again later, especially those last three words.

His eyes drifted back to the window just as the first few flakes began to spiral down to the ground. Everything was beginning to feel a little too quiet.