Crocodile Tears [3/?]
Title: Crocodile Tears [3/?]
Rating: R
Fandom: Bandom [Elliot Minor/Empires/Suns]
Pairing(s): So far, Tom Conrad/ Mikey Russell
Summary: Murder and abduction is never easy, but the Princes in the Tower case is turning out to be something else entirely. Alex Davies wasn't expecting this after the Bernstein case.
Genre: AU/Angst
Warnings: swearing, violence, murder, character death, child abuse, domestic abuse
Notes: [1016 words]
Edward and Richard
"Are you investigating me?" Teddy demanded, folding his arms. "Are you investigating me?" His blue eyes flashed dangerously.
"We're investigating all possible leads, sir." Mikey said blandly, as expressionlessly as a robot. Although he gave the impression of looking up, his eyes were focused just below Teddy’s.
"And who are these leads?"
"Right now, just you." The diminutive man admitted. "You're the only person who has a connection with the boys - if it's an outside abduction then it's a very bizarre one."
"Fuck you." The man hissed, moving to slam his hands down on the desk in front of him.
"I think I'll pass on that offer." Mikey said without blinking. "You're not helping our investigation, sir. You aren't giving us details. We need details if we're going to check this out. Now, where did you live in Ireland?"
"Cork." Teddy responded immediately. "Why did you send your fuck toy to spy on me?"
"Husband." The chief constable challenged. "Like I said, sir, we're investigating all leads." Tom could see the man's hands twitching, and knew his husband was getting angry. He toyed with the idea of stepping in, but stepping in could possibly anger Mikey further - and that was pretty stupid.
"I want to speak to whoever is in charge." Teddy's lips twisted.
"You're looking at him." Mikey stood up. "Chief Constable Michael Russell. In charge." He smirked in defiance, daring Teddy to say something.
"Oh fucking hell." The man ran a hand through his hair with a groan. "Do more. Find my fucking sons!"
"We're doing our best." The older man was doing his best to remain calm, but his temper was showing. "If there's anything else we can do-"
"Your best isn't good enough!" Teddy shouted over him. There was silence as the two men sized each other up.
"I think you should leave." Mikey said, his voice shaking slightly. "Go. Now."
“What if I didn’t?” The younger man challenged. “You may be in charge of this investigation, but you’re not in charge of all the police in this country, and I can report you.”
Sir, this is not helping your case." Mikey fought to keep his voice on an even keel. On the desk behind him, Tom watched silently.
"Why are you investigating me? You should be finding my sons!"
Mikey snapped. "We're investigating you because we have no leads!" He stepped up. "You play your cards close to your chest and tell us nothing!"
"I tell you what you need-"
"How the fuck do you know what we need?" The chief shouted over him. "We need everything! We need to know every tiny detail, and all you give us is some creepy living arrangement where your children are never out of your fucking sight - and that makes you the only possible suspect!"
"You've never-"
"You refuse to go on TV to make a plea for information. You're sparse when you do give us information - it's taken us two days to find out where the fuck you used to live! What are you hiding? What the fuck are you hiding?"
Teddy looked like he was going to say something else, but thought the better of it. He turned on his heel and left the station, slamming the door to Mikey's office so hard it cracked along the woodwork. The chief constable blanched, sliding down in his seat to hide his face in his hands.
"You ok?" Tom asked awkwardly, standing above his husband.
"Get out." Mikey's words were muffled by his hands, but came clear enough. "Do some work."
-
"Showdown." Tom sighed as he handed out coffees. "You know, if it wasn't his two kids that were missing, I would be tempted to do a shit job. If it was a car, and not two young kids..."
"Alex thinks they've been abused, don't you Alex?" Mikey murmured over his coffee, shifting when his husband sat down to lean on him.
"It's a possibility." The man shrugged.
"How do you know so much about this?" William, a relatively new transfer, asked, stirring a sugar into his tea.
"Oh, I did behavioural science at university. I was going to be a psychiatrist, but the police snapped me up." The other man smiled absentmindedly. "And I kinda got stuck here. Mikey doesn't let anyone leave."
"Fuck you." The chief constable murmured, his head on Tom's shoulder and his eyes closed. "He's scary."
"Was he really screaming at you?" Ryan, just out of college, asked wide eyed.
"Really." Tom confirmed, a hand in his husband's long hair. "That's the first sign of emotion I've seen from him, well, he freaked a bit when I was playing the innocent student and he told me about his kids."
“What was he like when he reported them missing?” Alex slid down in his chair until his head was touching the table.
“Shaking.” The chief constable murmured. “Not crying, and he was still creepily quiet and reserved and holding back... But he was shaking so bad. If you look at his signature after his first statement with me, and then after his statement with you, they’re... it’s shaky.”
“Like Guy Fawkes.” Tom added helpfully.
“You gotta feel for him.” Sean, one of Tom’s friends, pointed out. “I mean, ignoring the fact that he might be a child abuser, he’s lost his two kids. If he’s that creepily close to them - without being scary molester - then he obviously loves them.”
“Maybe.” The blonde chewed on his lip. “I can’t help but think - if he isn’t a scary molester - then something happened, because that’s quite... abnormally close.” He screwed up his nose, pressing a kiss to his husband’s hair.
“So, the question is,” Mikey mulled over, straightening up from Tom to stir his coffee with his index finger. He looked across the table, brown eyes fixing on Alex, who reluctantly lifted his head from the table. “The question is, what’s happened?”
“I don’t think so.” Alex shook his head, ducking it to avoid Mikey’s eyes. He stared at the table. “The question is - what’s he scared of?”
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