Fic: Jabberwocky, Part 19a/?

[sytaxia]

Chris was silent as he and Ray slowly made their way out of the ICU and towards the lifts, then down to the ground floor of the hospital and out to the car park.  His mind was still tumbling back to the statue at the museum, and to the strange symbol carved underneath it; the same symbol that was carved over Sam’s bed.  Images of the thing continued to flit through his head as he climbed slowly into the passenger seat of Ray’s old car, attempting to understand what the strange whorls and markings in it could possibly mean as he heard the engine stutter and groan before eventually starting.

Chris was still trying to understand what the symbol could stand for, hoping that he could come up with something concrete to offer the Gov, when the car pulled out of the car park and onto the road.  Ray turned to him for a second as he guided the grunting old monster of a car towards Chris’ house, “So, he looks a damned sight better, then,” he said, and Chris hardly heard him.  Sitting next to Sam was incredibly painful, drawing up all of the old memories of his mother, laying on her own hospital bed, time in and time out, as if she was simply waiting to die.

“Chris?” Ray asked, and Chris finally allowed himself to stop dwelling on the details of the case, the symbol, and Sam.  He turned to Ray with a questioning look.

“Sorry, mate, didn’t catch that,” he said, and Ray shook his head.

“I said, he’s lookin’ a damned sight better.  Not too long, ‘e’ll be able to throw his own in on the case, maybe help us out, you think?”

Chris shrugged.  “I s’pose.”  Chris tried to think of anything that could help to draw his mind away from its current traps, and found himself staring at Ray’s hands, at his neck, at his jaw line, and found that he had to look away as an odd, not unpleasant sensation started to make its way through his trousers.

“Nothin’ to s’pose about it, ‘e’s comin’ round good.  Good thing, that, I was a bit worried about the old ponce there, for a bit,” Ray said, allowing himself to smile and hoping that Chris, too, would start to cheer up.  The lack of results and decent leads on the case was hanging over their heads like a lead weight, blotting out any happiness that he might otherwise have felt about Sam’s improving condition, and he knew that Chris must be feeling the same way.  He allowed the silence to stretch on for a few more moments before speaking again, “You want to stop down the pub, or just go straight to yours?”

“Mine’s fine,” Chris responded, and then felt his mind reel and dance onto other lines of thought, finding none of them any less perplexing than the case.  He stared at the road ahead of them for a few more moments, and then took a deep breath.  “You want to come in for a few?  Maybe have a few beers or sommat?”

Ray turned to Chris with a small smile, glad that his friend finally started to be taking his mind off of the case.  “Love to, mate.”

Chris suddenly felt hard tension growing at the back of his neck, and the silence that filled the car seemed to suddenly be invading him, pulling at his innards in an incredibly uncomfortable way.  He steeled himself for any negative reactions that his next question might raise, and then decided that it was now or never.  He took another deep breath, and then turned to Ray.  “You know what you said the other night?  ‘Bout me thinkin’ on what I wanted?”  Ray nodded in response to this, a questioning light suddenly burning behind his eyes, making them seem even more brilliantly blue than usual.  “You think you might want to, you know, kip over?  It’d help us get an early start an’ all, for tomorrow, y’know…”  Chris let his voice trail off, and felt himself mentally crossing his fingers.  The trouble was, he didn’t know whether he was hoping and praying that Ray would say ‘yes’, or that he’d say ‘no.’

Ray stared at Chris, hard, for a few moments, the engine idling angrily as they paused at a red traffic light.  Chris couldn’t help but feel like he was being scrutinized by Gene once again, and the feeling was a bit disconcerting.  He wasn’t used to being given those types of appraising looks from Ray.  The light changed, and Ray slowly directed the car forward, drawing nearer and nearer to Chris’ house.  Finally, he gave his answer, “’f that’s what you want, mate, I’d be all for it.  You sure ‘bout it?”

Chris gave a short chuckle, “No.  But I do want to, you know, an’ all…”  He was trying desperately to think of something to say, and kicking himself mentally for letting Ray know that he really wasn’t sure, not in the slightest, that this was what he wanted.  He did want to, but he couldn’t help but feel that there was something just as incredibly wrong about this as there was something so incredibly right…  Thoughts of his own desires were drowned out by thoughts of catcalls and insults, of all the different things that he’d heard, or seen, and of all the different things that people would say, if they knew.  Things that Ray might say, if he really knew what Chris was feeling.

Ray seemed to read Chris’ mind, and as the car pulled up to the curb outside of Chris’ house, he cut the engine and then clapped a hand over Chris’ shoulder.  “Like I said before, you’re not a poof if you’re not some girly sod, an’ if you do it with birds, too.  It’s just a thing that some mates do, you know.  An’ we don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want.  You decide you’d rather not, I’ll kip on the sofa, all right?”  Chris felt a deep surge of relief as he heard this, and he allowed himself a small smile.  He pulled open the door and stepped out onto the street, then made his way around the car as Ray exited from the driver’s side and locked the car door.  Silence fell again as they made their way up to the door, and Chris slowly unlocked it and headed inside, hanging his coat on the old coat rack and holding out a hand for Ray’s.  He felt his gaze shift towards Ray’s neck, at the way that the thick muscles of his shoulder’s pulled at the tendons there, as he took Ray’s coat and then hung it next to his.  He gestured towards the living room, and then went back towards the kitchen.

When Chris returned with two bottles of beer in his hands, Ray was already sitting on the sofa, lightly tapping ash from the end of a lit cigarette into the ashtray on the old coffee table.  Chris swallowed, hard, and then sat down next to Ray, placing the beers on the table and lighting up a fag of his own.  He felt his shoulders and neck tense up again, a strange, nervous feeling, not unlike the one that he often felt around pretty girls, slowly melted its way through his body, and he had to fight to keep from jumping when he felt Ray’s arm slowly slide around his shoulders.

“Still haven’t cleaned up the basement,” Chris said, after a bit, and he felt Ray’s arm tighten around him.  He looked over and stared at the yellowing bruises on Ray’s face, now almost completely faded, just as his own had.  He winced as he thought of the fight, and of what Ray must be thinking about him, after the way that he’d reacted.  “Think I might clean the whole place up.  Like you said.  Have everyone from the station down for a do, or sommat like that,” he said at last, although the idea of going down there again made his heart feel as if it had suddenly been frozen in ice.

“You know you don’t have to, not if you don’t want,” Ray said, and he leaned forward to grab his beer, his arm still firmly wrapped around Chris.  “I mean, with what happened, an’ all…”  He let his voice trail off.

Chris shook his head, “No, you’re right, it’d be grand.  Nice big ol’ do, welcome the boss back.  An’ I need to get it sorted.  Get it all sorted down there, get it all sorted in my head, like.  Get over it all, I s’pose,” he said, trying hard to believe himself.  The thought had never occurred to him that he could reuse the room down there, or that it might help him to deal with what had happened.  Still, when he said it, he knew that there was some truth to his statement.  He had to get over it, or he’d just end up a basket case again, the next time one of them was hurt.  It’d been incredibly hard not to just curl up and cry, when Ray had been caught in the bomb blast, but the Gov’s anger and the deadlines of the case had helped to push it away from his mind, coupled with the speed with which Ray had returned to duty.  This time, however, the case was dragging out, and there was no hiding behind anything.  What if it were like that the next time, and what if it were Ray, or the Gov, or even Annie?  The thought of something happening to a woman, or to Ray, or to any of them just made the terror solidify horribly inside of him.

Ray nodded as he took a deep draught from his bottle, and he started to move his left hand absentmindedly up Chris’ shoulder.  “If you think you can, yeah, might be a good idea.  Might help, like you said,” Ray offered, and then he finished off the end of his beer and set it down on the table.  Chris leaned over and allowed himself to press into Ray, suddenly incredibly aware of how close the two of them were.  He swallowed, hard, and then tried to look up at Ray’s face, craning his neck.

Ray looked down at Chris, and then slowly dropped his own head, their faces now less than an inch apart.  He leaned forward and slowly brushed his lips against Chris,’ and then pulled back for a moment.  “I’ll help you clean it up, if you want.  Be nice to have a mate around, wouldn’t it?”  He leaned in again, and this time the kiss was much deeper, their lips slowly parting under the pressure, and Chris felt Ray’s tongue tentatively probing the inside of his mouth.  It was a strange feeling, far different than kissing a woman, rough and hard and still incredibly sensual, and Chris felt himself moving forward, his own tongue pressing back against Ray’s.

Chris felt Ray’s hands on his shoulders, then, forcing him down against the sofa, his mouth crushing against Chris.’  Ray’s mouth moved then, sliding along Chris’ jaw until they were at his neck, pressing against the point where his earlobe ended and hs neck began. Chris moved forward and bent his head, and found himself exploring Ray’s collarbones with his own mouth, lips and tongue sliding over hard, sinewy flesh and the rounded edges of bone, moving upwards and feeling rough stubble rubbing hard against his mouth.  He pulled back, gasping, and then felt Ray’s hand against his inner thigh, his fingers slowly massaging the flesh there, and Chris felt himself grow hard, straining against his trousers.

“Up to your room, then?” Ray asked breathlessly as he continued to slide his mouth along the side of Chris’ face, and Chris moaned in response, trying to nod as he reached forward and felt his hand move along Ray’s chest, feeling the hard muscles under his shirt.  Ray pulled away, and Chris felt the sudden urge to latch hold of him, to draw him back down to the sofa, but then Ray was pulling him up, grabbing his wrists and practically yanking him off of the sofa, and the two of them were clumsily making their way up the stairs, bodies twisting around so that he was never sure whether he was moving backwards or forwards up the stairs, backs slamming into the wall and the railing as they slowly ascended.

By the time the two of them had reached the top of the stairs, Ray was practically ripping at Chris’ shirt, the buttons snapping off of their threads and littering the hallway.  Chris found himself being slammed into the door of his room, and scrambled to twist the doorknob with one hand while fumbling with Ray’s belt with the other.  The door gave way, and the two of them nearly fell to the floor as it slammed up against the wall behind it and they made their way to the bed.  Ray shoved Chris down forcefully, and then bent low over him, his mouth pressing hard against Chris’ neck, tongue lapping at the tendons there.  Chris found himself pushing back, trying to draw the two of them up on the bed, and finally managed to unclasp Ray’s belt as the two of them reached the center of the bed.

Ray was pulling hard on Chris’ shirt, and there was a harsh tearing sound as one of the sleeves gave way as the garment was pulled off of Chris’ body.  Chris fumbled for the buttons on Ray’s shirt, and then gave up as Ray took a moment to quickly undo them himself.  Their bare chests rubbed up against each other, Ray’s heavily muscled chest and slightly paunchy belly pressing down hard upon the thin sinew and lean muscles of Chris’ body, nearly crushing him against the bed.  Chris became acutely aware of Ray pulling at his shoulder with one hand, as the other expertly undid his belt and started to pull his trousers down.  Chris wriggled to assist in the motion, and soon found his trousers and pants winding their way down to his ankles.  He started to pull Ray’s own trousers down and felt Ray pulling at his shoulder again, and realized what was about to happen.

Ray pulled Chris over, flipping him onto his belly, and Chris felt Ray’s moustache rubbing against his shoulders as hard, passionate kisses massaged their way across his shoulders and the back of his neck.  He felt Ray’s penis, hard and long and nearly pulsing, rubbing against the backs of his thighs, and he groaned in pleasure as Ray reached one hand around and grabbed his own organ, stroking it and causing him to start moving in time to the strokes, gasping as Ray continued to kiss his shoulders and neck, continued to move his hand up and down the shaft of his penis.  He reached around and felt for Ray, eventually finding coarse, curly hair and then the thin, smooth skin of the shaft of Ray’s organ.  He bucked with pleasure and tried to stroke Ray in time to their motions, finding that the larger man was already pushing his hips back and forth in time with the motion of his stroking of Chris’ cock.

Chris felt Ray’s other hand caressing the flesh of his buttocks, felt the rough, calloused palms cupping each cheek forcefully, kneading the flesh there, and then felt a finger tentatively make its way towards his rectum, probing the delicate flesh much more cautiously than any of his other motions had been.  Chris gasped as mild pain flooded him, and he realized that Ray was slowly pushing his finger down inside of him.  He paused in his stroking of Ray, and felt Ray’s hand pause over his penis.  Ray’s body pushed forward against his, and he felt his breath against his ear.  “Nothing you don’t want t’ do, right?  You want stopping, you just say ‘stop,’ an’ I will, right?”  Chris tried to nod, and then felt Ray’s finger push in more deeply, sensation running through him, hot and burning and strong, all other thoughts driven away.

Ray paused for a moment, and Chris was suddenly aware that he was spitting into his hand, and then pushing that hand past Chris’ and rubbing the resultant saliva over his penis.  “Unless you’ve got sommat else,” Ray said softly, his breath still hot and gasping against Chris’ ear, and then Chris felt him kissing the tender flesh behind his ear, probing it gently with his tongue, as the edge of his penis slowly rubbed across Chris’ arse, saliva and pre-cum gathering across the opening.  Ray took his time, making sure that enough fluid was collected around Chris, and then, slowly, much more gently than Chris would have thought him capable of, he pressed down, and Chris gasped.

The pain was exquisite, like he was being torn apart, and yet there was definite pleasure there, wild, intense pleasure that rushed forth and pressed into him, blocking out the hard, tense pain.  He felt himself tense, and Ray paused again, although his hand continued to stroke Chris’ cock in time to the slowed, pulsating movements of his hips against Chris’ buttocks.  “That all right?” He thought he heard Ray say, but the sensation of blood rushing through his ears blocked out the words, and all he heard was mumbling.  He reached around, and pulled down on Ray, gasping as he felt Ray’s organ enter him, filling him, the pain of it tempered and meted by the pleasure, and he took several deep, gasping breaths, willing himself to relax, knowing that it was the only way Ray was going to make it all the way in.

After a few moments of simply moving from side to side, half in and half out, Ray plunged down again, and then pulled up slightly, and Chris was amazed to find that Ray had started to drive into him, again and again, slowly at first as his arse relaxed and then more quickly as the pain started to ebb away and his rear stopped aching with tension and started to loosen under the pressure of Ray’s slow, sure movements.  Chris tried to reach around, to do or say anything, but found that he was simply laying on his stomach, feeling Ray’s mouth move against his shoulders, tongue and lips massaging the flesh there, feeling Ray’s hand moving more forcefully along his cock, stroking him much more forcefully now, feeling Ray’s own penis, hard and sure and smooth, pushing in and out of his rectum, sliding up and down with the same rhythm that Ray was using to massage his cock.

The movements continued to come more and more quickly, and Chris gasped and moaned as he felt Ray moving, deep inside of him, pushing further and further in and then pulling out, moving in faster and faster, rubbing his palms quickly against Chris’ penis, slick with its own pre-cum and with the sweat that was starting to build on their skins.  It still hurt, Chris was surprised to find, but it didn’t matter, because for these few precious minutes, everything faded away: there was no stain on the floor downstairs, there were no deaths on his conscience, Sam wasn’t in hospital, there wasn’t a killer at large, no, it was just, him, Ray, and the feeling that the two of them were together, more together than he’d ever thought he could possibly be with another human being, their bodies writhing against one another, pushing down on the bed, Ray filling him and stroking him and kissing him, driving everything else away.

It seemed to last for only a few seconds, and yet it also seemed to last for hours, the two of them entwined, pounding the mattress hard onto the bed frame, and then Chris felt himself start to come, black and white spots dancing across his field of vision as his hips bucked and he jerked, feeling the hot jet of his own semen against his belly, over Ray’s hand, onto the bed.  He felt something warm and hot mixed in with the pain and pleasure that were filling his backside, and realized that Ray, too, was coming, the fluid running into him and surrounding Ray’s penis, lubricating it even more and taking the final edge of pain away, making the last few pulses that Ray made into him nothing but exquisite joy.  Ray fell, then, gasping, against him, and Chris found himself flattening out onto the bed, the two of them panting, Ray still laying on top of Chris, still nuzzling his ear, softly and slowly, as he gasped for breath.

They laid on the bed like that for several minutes, and then Ray sat up, and slowly looked around the room.  He saw one of Chris’ packets of fags sitting next to an ashtray on a night table, and reached for it, placing two cigarettes in his mouth and lighting them at the same time, watching the spark flare slightly as he inhaled and held the small flame of the lighter against them.  He replaced the lighter and the packet on the table, and then held one of the cigarettes out to Chris.  Chris was still laying on the bed, a slightly shocked, but definitely pleased, look on his face.  The pleasure seemed to melt away from his features slightly as he sat up, and took the proffered fag from Ray.  Ray looked at him, and saw that he was slightly dazed, and then he reached over and wrapped his arm around Chris’ shoulders, drawing him in close to him, enjoying the feeling on his sweat-dampened skin.

Chris took a long drag on his cigarette, and then stared at the ground, looking almost ashamed.  “So that’s buggery, then,” he said, and Ray gave him a momentary scowl, and then hugged him more closely.

“Buggery’s what perverts do, this’s just two mates, havin’ it off when there aren’t no birds aroun’ to be had.  Happens all the time, all right?”  Chris’ expression turned to a look of confusion for a moment, and then he nodded, the situation still slightly unsettling, and Ray’s attitude even more so.  He eventually reasoned that it would be a very bad thing to argue with Ray on that count, and sat, slowly drawing in the smoke, then releasing it from his lungs in a long, thin cloud, suddenly becoming acutely aware of the drying semen on his belly and chest, and of the similar marks around Ray’s thighs and hand.

“Liked it,” Chris whispered, hoping that he was overstepping the bounds by saying so, and Ray squeezed his shoulder, then turned and gave him a wry smile.

“Good.  Nice to get your mind off things, isn’t it?  Good bit of sport there, just as nice as with a bird.  Just so long as you like it, an’ all.  Wasn’t too rough for yeh, was I?”  Ray said, still unsure of the dazed and confused look that was crowding over Chris’ face.

Chris shook his head, and then looked up at Ray’s face, surprised to see concern dancing in the bright blue eyes beneath his heavy brow bone. “No.  It was…  I’ve never, I mean…  It was nice.”

“Nice is good,” Ray said, and Chris felt a pang inside of him as he remembered Sam saying the same thing to him, when he’d brought in the pictures of himself with his last girlfriend.  He pushed the thought away, and then looked around the room.

“Might move some stuff around, change this into a guest room, like, and move into the master bedroom.  You know, like, getting’ everything sorted, movin’ on.”  Chris wasn’t sure why he’d said it, but as soon as he had, he realized that it had to be done.  Something had finally given way inside of him, and he knew that he had to remake the entire house, the basement, the bedroom, all of the decorations on the walls - it was time to move away from all of the old ghosts.  He shivered as he thought of all that had happened in the house, and then tried to concentrate on everything else, everything good that had happened to him, culminating in his moments alone with Ray.

Ray felt Chris shudder slightly as he spoke of his plans to rework the house, and then reached over to stub out the butt of his cigarette before reaching his arm back and wrapping both arms around Chris, kissing him on the shoulder as he did so.  “Whatever you feel like, mate.  Whatever you think’d help, I’ll help you with what needs doin,’ all right?”  Chris felt Ray’s arms around him, and then allowed himself to slacken slightly inside of Ray’s embrace, reveling in the feeling of Ray’s body pressed up against his.  It was then that he realized that they were both naked, their clothes scattered on the floor, and that they were both covered in sweat and semen.  Chris tried to think of something to say, but it seemed that Ray had the same idea.

“You want a shower?” Ray asked, and Chris nodded.  Ray took his own fag end from him and stubbed it out in the ashtray, and then levered Chris up.  Chris was surprised to find that his knees had gone weak, and that it took him a moment to become steady on his feet.  The two of them walked, sideways, through the door, Ray still wrapping one arm around Chris’ shoulders, and then they entered the bathroom. Chris bent and slowly turned on the taps that led up the pipe to the shower, and the two of them climbed into the tub together.

Chris took a moment to watch Ray as he slowly picked up the bar of soap that was precariously balanced on the ledge of the tub, and then proceeded to rub it along his body, building suds along his thickly muscled arms and chest, and then down over the curve of his belly and his thighs.  He moved back, feeling the stream of hard, pelting water press down against his face and head, and then reached forward and took the soap from Ray.  As he turned around, he felt Ray’s arms, still slick with soap, close around him and pull him back, and then he was resting, still standing, against Ray’s body, feeling Ray’s soap-slicked check against his back, and resting his wet hair against Ray’s shoulders.  Ray reached one hand up and moved the hair out of Chris’ eyes, and then bent low and kissed him, hard, on the mouth.  The two of them locked together then, twisting  under the stream of the water, feet slipping slightly against the floor of the tub, their mouths exploring each other’s faces, jaws, necks, lips, shoulders, until Ray spun him around.

Chris leaned down against the edge of the tub, gripping its wall with his hands, white knuckled and gasping as Ray moved behind him, and Chris felt Ray rubbing the bar of soap forcefully against his buttocks.  He looked down and realized that he was stiff again, his cock hard and full, jumping slightly as Ray pressed into him.  It was different than the first time had been, different than the slow, gentle motions Ray had made on the bed, with Ray pressing down and fully into him almost immediately, pain and ecstasy blossoming forth from his buttocks and spreading through him again.  The two of them pushed and shoved against the wall of the tub, Ray sliding slightly on the balls of his feet and reaching around the grasp the tub wall with one hand, holding Chris’ chest with his other hand.  Chris reached his arm around and grabbed hold of Ray’s organ, guiding it into himself again and again.

This time, they both came much more quickly, a fact that surprised Chris as he felt the stream of the shower against his shoulder, and Ray’s, and the two of them were bucking and jerking against one another much more forcefully.  Chris came first, and felt Ray steadying him, pulling him up as he drove into him again and again, shoving his soap-laden cock into Chris’ rear with incredible force.  Chris let himself relax fully then, his arse giving way much more easily to Ray’s motions, and within minutes, Ray had come as well, filling Chris once again, and making Chris feel so much more like he was a part of something, like he was wanted, like he belonged, here, underneath the shower’s pouring, pelting streams of water and underneath Ray’s strong, comforting bulk, being slammed against the porcelain of the tub wall again and again.

Once Ray had spent himself, he straightened and moved under the stream, away from Chris, and commenced cleaning himself again.  Chris moved forward and did the same, and Ray picked up the soap, which had fallen onto the tub floor, and started to rub it against Chris’ chest and stomach, and then against his back and buttocks and thighs.  The two of them stood then, and Chris felt Ray’s arms move around him again, and moved his own limbs around so that they were embracing each other, standing under the shower’s water, the soap suds washing off of them and down the drain, the soap dropping from Ray’s hand as he kissed Chris lightly, more gently than ever before, on the lips.  Chris leaned into the light kiss and then leaned his forehead against Ray’s shoulder, and they continued to stand for what seemed like a wonderful, blessed eternity.

Eventually, Ray reached forward and turned off the taps, and then stepped out of the tub, grabbing for the towel that Chris had left over the toilet and rubbing it along his shoulders, chest, and head.  He offered it to Chris then, and Chris rubbed at his own hair and limbs with it, and then the two of them made their way back to the bedroom, still slightly damp, heads still buzzing with the euphoria of sex.  Chris stared at the mess on the bed, surprised at the amount of fluid that had built up on it, and not sure what to do.  Ray stepped up behind him, and then drew the top sheet over the soiled bottom sheet, followed by the bed’s blanket.  He moved around the bed and situated the pillows on top of the blankets, and then looked over at Chris.  “Have to do the washing tomorrow, mate,” he said, and then reached down and picked up an old quilt that was laying on the floor.

Ray climbed onto the bed, pulling the quilt over him, and looked expectantly at Chris.  Chris sat down and drew his own legs up and onto the bed, then felt Ray pulling him close to himself, drawing the quilt up and over the two of them and holding Chris tightly against his chest.  Chris moved against Ray, trying to get as close as possible, enjoying the feeling of their flesh rubbing together and their combined body heat filling the small spaces of air under the quilt.  He felt Ray’s arm close over him, and snuggled in more closely, his head dragging off of the pillow and onto the bed as he curled up next to Ray.  He struggled to think of something to say.

“Thanks for sayin’ you’d help an’ all,” Chris said, still not sure how he was going to go about the process of cleaning up the basement, or the master bedroom.

“’s what mates are for, ain’t it?  ‘sides, I’m lookin’ forward to using that ol’ basement of yours, truth be told.  Y’know, we can get a bigger rug, cover up the floor better, before we do anything.”  Ray had started to rub the back of his hand against Chris’ shoulder, the motion incredibly comforting.

“Thanks.  Dunno why I haven’t done nought about it sooner, it just…  It didn’ feel right, before,” Chris said, and Ray paused and then pulled him in more tightly, so tightly that Chris thought he would be crushed, and was still pleased by the motion.

“Everythin’ in time, like I said, whatever you’re right with us doin.’  Be a few weeks before the boss comes home, and we can throw that do then, if you want.  All the lads’ll be cocked up about it, I’ll bet, and it’ll be a nice big finish, once we nail this bastard.”

“Too right.  That’s just what we’ll do, then,” Chris said, trying not to voice his own doubts about them solving the case, or about Sam’s recovering.  He was suddenly overwhelmed with the idea of Sam dying, once again, and his thoughts shifted back to the old memories of his mother, laying in hospital, slowly fading away.  He felt horror seep through him as he realized that he’d started to cry.

Ray felt Chris’ body start to shake next to him, and he reached around and tried to pull Chris more closely to him.  “Hey, what’s wrong, mate?  Thought it was all right by you?  If it’s not, we don’t have to do nought, y’know…”

“’s not that.  ‘s just…  Thinkin’ ‘bout the boss, makes me think about me mum.  She died in hospital, when I was eighteen…  Every time I’m up there, I keep thinkin’ on how much he reminds me of her, all the tubes and shite all over the place, gettin’ better, an’ then gettin’ worse…”  Chris tried to stop crying, and only found himself crying much harder, until he was sobbing in Ray’s arms.

Ray was quiet for a moment, and then moved a hand up and started to stroke the hair at Chris’ temple.  “He’ll be all right.  ‘e’s a tough one, all right?”  Ray paused for a moment, and then his voice was much softer than Chris had ever heard it before, “That why you’ve been so upset?  Over it remindin’ you of your mum dying?”  He felt Chris nod, and continued to stroke his hair, not sure of what to say.  Eventually, he decided to try a more comedic approach to lightening the mood.  “I’m gonna have to use that one on ‘im, y’know. ‘Chris were so upset over you lookin’ like ‘is mum.  You look like my mum, too, Tyler, straight down to the tits,’ think maybe that’ll get ‘im goin’?”  He felt Chris buck a little in his arms, a slight laugh breaking through the sobs, and he leaned down and kissed him on the ear.

“It’s just all mixed up, like all the things that I don’t want to remember, crowding in all over the place.  You findin’ the basement, where Dad died, and then the boss, laying there like Mum, when she died, and all this shit and we can’t find the bastard and he’s just toying with us and all, and to top it all off I went and killed that bastard.  Two now, Ray - I mean, when I shot that horrible ol’ bitch that killed that Paki, I didn’ have to think about it, she was fine an’ in prison an’ it was all right, but this one, I mean, that’s two people I’ve killed, Ray.  I can’t do it, not like you and the Gov can, I mean, I can give a good punch to folks that deserve it, sure, but I can’t hurt people.  Not even bad people, y’know?  I mean, hurt them, but not really hurt them, an’ I just…”  Chris’ monologue ended in thick, blubbering sobs, and Ray pulled him more closely again.

“What you did saved at least one life, Chris…  Who knows who the bastard would’ve shot.  Might’ve been me.  An’ he was one of them that did all that sick shite to the boss.  Nothin’ to it, mate.  You had a shot, and you went for it.  That took balls.  An’ you shouldn’t be countin’ Kemble as someone you killed.  That comes down to me.  So it’s just one person you killed, all right?”  Ray squeezed Chris as hard as he could, and he felt Chris’ sobbing subside slightly as he did so, and then felt Chris squirm a bit in his arms, and became aware that he was practically crushing him.

“Who…  No, I mean, not Kemble,” Chris whispered, and Ray felt Chris start to shake slightly in his arms.  He kissed Chris on the jaw again, confusion washing over him.

“Wait, you said…  Chris, if you ain’t countin’ that poor little shit, who’s the other one?  You can’t be countin’ that Myers bastard…”  Ray’s voice trailed off, and he wracked his brain to try and think of any other death that Chris might blame himself for, and drew a complete blank.

“It were a long time ago,” Chris muttered, his voice a shaking whisper, and Ray felt the confusion grow inside of him.

“Chris, I’ve seen your record, Gov ran it by me before we brought you up.  You never killed no one, not when you were with plod, not since making DC…”  Ray felt Chris start to shake more forcefully in his arms, and he loosened his grip and tried to rise up slightly, hoping to get a look at Chris’ face.

“Don’ wanna talk about it, Ray,” Chris said, and he pushed himself further into a fetal position, his legs drawing up towards his chest and away from Ray.  Ray sighed, knowing that it wasn’t anywhere near the right time or place to push the issue, and then he wrapped his arms around Chris again.  Chris continued to weep as the two of them slowly drifted off to sleep.

Comments, criticism, etc are all highly appreciated and highly encouraged :)