Scent of Fear: Chapter 24
Title: Scent of Fear
Chapter: Twenty-Four
Fandom: Whose Line is it Anyway/Green Screen
Genre: Slash; Murder mystery; Thriller
Pairing(s): Brad/Ryan. Drew/Greg. Colin/Wayne.
Warnings: Some mild language.
Disclaimer: Don't own Whose Line. Not making money from this.
A/N: AU. A fic based on Kay Hooper’s Fear series.
God, I apologise for the wait! I know it's not too great, but I really need to get on with this now.
-----
Ryan practically sprinted through the coffee shop to join the others.
"Ry..." Brad started, but Ryan grabbed his arm and dragged him off his seat.
"I don't have time," he garbled.
"Ryan, you have to hear this," Brad said gently, trying to free himself from Ryan's grip, "Chip thinks you're-"
"Our apartment is flooded!" Ryan cried.
Brad didn't have time to react as Ryan took hold of his hand and pulled him out of the coffee shop. They - Chip and Drew included - ran back to the apartment block. Their pounding footsteps echoed around the stairwell as they raced to their door.
Brad gasped as he took in the mess. Water had migrated from the kitchen to the living room in an oozing puddle. Books, magazines, newspapers and DVDs floated and bobbed helplessly on the surface. All the lamps had been unplugged, but the overhead light flickered ominously. Brad started as something tapped against his leg. He froze for a moment, then realised that whatever it was couldn't be alive. He glanced down and saw a black and white photograph in an ebony frame. He swooped down and plucked it out of the water. It was Brad's favourite picture in the world, the one with Brad hugging Ryan tightly around the waist while Ryan's hands rested delicately on Brad's shoulders; Brad's head was tucked under Ryan's chin, looking directly at the camera; the corners of Ryan's mouth were pulled up into a sort of secret smile as he gazed down at the other man.
Brad pulled the sleeve of his sweater over his hand and swept his palm across the picture, clearing the excess water away, then hugged the picture to his chest.
"I called the super," Ryan said, looking around, "He should be here..."
"Maybe he's shutting off the water," Brad suggested.
"That's what he was doing when I left," said Ryan, "Surely it doesn't take that long-"
"It's done," a man in overalls said from behind them.
"How can that be?" said Ryan, "Water's still pouring in from the kitchen."
The super walked past them and waded into the apartment, "Weird...I'll go check it out. It might just be a few stray drops."
Ryan frowned; the amount of water still gushing in could hardly be caused by 'a few stray drops'. But he said nothing. He turned to Brad, "What are we going to...what's that?"
Brad flashed the photo at him and he smiled softly. No matter what the situation, that photo could somehow always lift his spirits.
"Do you guys need a place to stay?"
Ryan jumped and looked at Drew - in his panic, he hadn't even noticed the others following him. And he found himself feeling strangely grateful.
"George should be able to put us up for a few nights," he said.
Brad shook his head, "He's gone to the Pyrenees with Andrea."
"Charlie?"
Brad snorted, "Can barely fit one bed in that so-called apartment."
"Karen?"
Brad cast his eyes down, "Hospital."
Ryan felt his heart tighten, "Oh shit, I forgot..."
An awkward silence reigned, broken only by the sound of the water running and the super banging on the pipes until Drew spoke up, "You can stay with me if you'd like. It's a big house, plenty of room, and God knows I could use the company."
Ryan shook his head, "No way!"
Drew sighed, "Look, I'm sorry about the whole accusing you of murder thing. But now I know it's not true-"
"We don't know it's not true," Chip murmured.
Drew ignored him, "I feel the need to help you."
"Why?" Ryan asked.
"Because I think you can help me," he took a deep breath, "A voice told me-"
"Oh my God! You've been hearing voices? There's no way I'm-"
"Shut up, Ryan!"
Everyone stared at Brad. The photograph hung by his thigh, gripped tightly in his fingers. Another gush of water leaked through from the kitchen.
"Will you just hear the man out? He's been through something terrible, losing the love of his life like that, and I thing your behaviour towards him has been just awful! He says he's been hearing voices and your first thought is 'he's crazy'. Didn't you stop to consider? You've been hearing voices, too, and-"
"I haven't been-"
"I'm not finished! What's happened to him, what's happened to you, what Chip has said...don't you see a connection? Because I do. I don't know what the connection is, but it's certainly there. So you are going to swallow your pride, crack open your mind a little, and listen. You hear me? Because Drew or Chip might know something that's going to stop you from getting hurt." He turned to Drew, "We'd love to stay with you. Thank you for the kind offer."
Drew looked at Ryan who nodded sullenly, "Fine."
The apartment was filled with blissful silence as the water stopped running.
.x.Sess.x.
Chapter: Twenty-Four
Fandom: Whose Line is it Anyway/Green Screen
Genre: Slash; Murder mystery; Thriller
Pairing(s): Brad/Ryan. Drew/Greg. Colin/Wayne.
Warnings: Some mild language.
Disclaimer: Don't own Whose Line. Not making money from this.
A/N: AU. A fic based on Kay Hooper’s Fear series.
God, I apologise for the wait! I know it's not too great, but I really need to get on with this now.
-----
Ryan practically sprinted through the coffee shop to join the others.
"Ry..." Brad started, but Ryan grabbed his arm and dragged him off his seat.
"I don't have time," he garbled.
"Ryan, you have to hear this," Brad said gently, trying to free himself from Ryan's grip, "Chip thinks you're-"
"Our apartment is flooded!" Ryan cried.
Brad didn't have time to react as Ryan took hold of his hand and pulled him out of the coffee shop. They - Chip and Drew included - ran back to the apartment block. Their pounding footsteps echoed around the stairwell as they raced to their door.
Brad gasped as he took in the mess. Water had migrated from the kitchen to the living room in an oozing puddle. Books, magazines, newspapers and DVDs floated and bobbed helplessly on the surface. All the lamps had been unplugged, but the overhead light flickered ominously. Brad started as something tapped against his leg. He froze for a moment, then realised that whatever it was couldn't be alive. He glanced down and saw a black and white photograph in an ebony frame. He swooped down and plucked it out of the water. It was Brad's favourite picture in the world, the one with Brad hugging Ryan tightly around the waist while Ryan's hands rested delicately on Brad's shoulders; Brad's head was tucked under Ryan's chin, looking directly at the camera; the corners of Ryan's mouth were pulled up into a sort of secret smile as he gazed down at the other man.
Brad pulled the sleeve of his sweater over his hand and swept his palm across the picture, clearing the excess water away, then hugged the picture to his chest.
"I called the super," Ryan said, looking around, "He should be here..."
"Maybe he's shutting off the water," Brad suggested.
"That's what he was doing when I left," said Ryan, "Surely it doesn't take that long-"
"It's done," a man in overalls said from behind them.
"How can that be?" said Ryan, "Water's still pouring in from the kitchen."
The super walked past them and waded into the apartment, "Weird...I'll go check it out. It might just be a few stray drops."
Ryan frowned; the amount of water still gushing in could hardly be caused by 'a few stray drops'. But he said nothing. He turned to Brad, "What are we going to...what's that?"
Brad flashed the photo at him and he smiled softly. No matter what the situation, that photo could somehow always lift his spirits.
"Do you guys need a place to stay?"
Ryan jumped and looked at Drew - in his panic, he hadn't even noticed the others following him. And he found himself feeling strangely grateful.
"George should be able to put us up for a few nights," he said.
Brad shook his head, "He's gone to the Pyrenees with Andrea."
"Charlie?"
Brad snorted, "Can barely fit one bed in that so-called apartment."
"Karen?"
Brad cast his eyes down, "Hospital."
Ryan felt his heart tighten, "Oh shit, I forgot..."
An awkward silence reigned, broken only by the sound of the water running and the super banging on the pipes until Drew spoke up, "You can stay with me if you'd like. It's a big house, plenty of room, and God knows I could use the company."
Ryan shook his head, "No way!"
Drew sighed, "Look, I'm sorry about the whole accusing you of murder thing. But now I know it's not true-"
"We don't know it's not true," Chip murmured.
Drew ignored him, "I feel the need to help you."
"Why?" Ryan asked.
"Because I think you can help me," he took a deep breath, "A voice told me-"
"Oh my God! You've been hearing voices? There's no way I'm-"
"Shut up, Ryan!"
Everyone stared at Brad. The photograph hung by his thigh, gripped tightly in his fingers. Another gush of water leaked through from the kitchen.
"Will you just hear the man out? He's been through something terrible, losing the love of his life like that, and I thing your behaviour towards him has been just awful! He says he's been hearing voices and your first thought is 'he's crazy'. Didn't you stop to consider? You've been hearing voices, too, and-"
"I haven't been-"
"I'm not finished! What's happened to him, what's happened to you, what Chip has said...don't you see a connection? Because I do. I don't know what the connection is, but it's certainly there. So you are going to swallow your pride, crack open your mind a little, and listen. You hear me? Because Drew or Chip might know something that's going to stop you from getting hurt." He turned to Drew, "We'd love to stay with you. Thank you for the kind offer."
Drew looked at Ryan who nodded sullenly, "Fine."
The apartment was filled with blissful silence as the water stopped running.
.x.Sess.x.