Bad Day (FAKE - Dee/Ryo)
Title: Bad day
Fandom: FAKE
Pairing/Character: Dee/Ryo
Author: Murasaki-Dono
Recipient: Nemurihime
Warnings: TWT, m/m, ANGST, bad language
Soundtrack: Helpless - Neil Young
Summary: The boys have a bad day.
Symbols: _italics_
Notes: While I have all respect for Sanami Matoh and her series; she even admits she doesn’t know much about New York City and New York City police requirements. Sharpshooters are members of the NYC SWAT. Sister Maria received what looked like massive head injuries in one of the early volumes.
******
“Hello, Dee,” Sister Maria smiled widely from her chair as she sat in the retirement home’s solarium. She still looked very frail, not as frail as she had been in the hospital after the bombing that destroyed the orphanage she had run for many years, yet she was not the fiery, dynamic person who had been a vital part of Detective Dee Laytner’s early life.
“Hello, Mother,” Dee bent and kissed her cheek. “How are you feeling?” He sank to his knees next to her chair.
“I want to go home,” her face dropped into woe. “This is a very nice place, but I have to get back to the children.”
“Mother, you still have to get well,” Dee reminded her gently. She always asked and it always broke his heart when she did.
“I’m just fine. Someone has to take care of the children.”
“The children are fine, the diocese is taking care of them.” Catholic Services had stepped in and made sure all of Sister Maria’s charges were in foster care.
“Oh, I suppose,” she sighed deeply. She frowned up at the dark haired man. “Have you been doing your homework?”
Dee flinched. He hadn’t done homework since leaving the Police Academy. “Yes, Mother.”
“You’re not lying to me, are you?” she demanded. “You’ll never pass high school if you don’t do your homework.”
“Yes, Mother,” he whispered. She’d been like this since the bombing. The doctor had said it was a brain injury from the massive head trauma she’d suffered. They were not optimistic about her recovering her full faculties.
“I just worry about you and the children,” she touched his cheek. “That’s why I want to go home and see that they’re all right.”
“They are, Mother,” Dee felt his throat closing and the corners of his eyes getting moist. “You don’t worry about them, or me, you just concentrate on getting better.”
“Yes, dear,” she sighed childishly.
Dee talked to her for a while. She smiled and nodded, but looked at him vacantly. He finally kissed her cheek again and said good-bye. She admonished him to do his homework again.
It was all he could do not to cry on the train ride back from Connecticut.
******
Detective Ryo McLean followed the other members of his SWAT team through the door. Usually he was only called in when his sharp shooting skills were needed, but this old warehouse was suspected of being a major crack processing plant and SWAT had called up every available body it could get its hands on to attack it. Sometime squad leader and fellow detective at the 27th Precinct, JJ Adams was just a step behind him. Both were covered in forty-plus pounds of bulletproof armor and carried riot shields. Ryo’s sandy hair was already dripping sweat down the side of his face.
Chaos erupted. There were shots, crashes, men’s voices cursing, a woman started screaming, Ryo grabbed a running figure by the back of his shirt and threw him towards another officer to subdue.
“God,” said JJ. Ryo saw them; three children, the oldest couldn’t be more than six, huddled in a corner. He didn’t even think; he ran over and set his body between them and the battle going on around him. JJ was right at his side. The shorter man took off his helmet and knelt down, speaking to the children in Spanish.
A curl of smoke billowed from another room. “Evacuate!” the squad leader was screaming. “Evacuate! There’s a fire! _Move it, people_!”
Ryo scooped up one of the children. JJ snatched up the six year old, who clutched the third child in her arms. The men barely made it to the safety behind one of the police cars when the explosions went off.
The children screamed. Ryo heard himself start cursing. There were fire engines rushing to the scene but not before the whole structure was engulfed. The children began crying for their mother.
It was at least another hour and a half before Social Services took them off the two SWAT members’ hands. Ryo had never felt so tired in his life when he finally put away his armor and headed upstairs to plow through the paperwork and give his statement.
He found JJ slumped against the hallway wall when he came out, his head on his knees.
“What is it?” he asked.
JJ’s expressive blue eyes were on the verge of tears. “The kid’s mother was identified as one of the people killed at the scene.”
“God,” was all Ryo could say.
He came home to find Dee sitting in his living room.
“What are you doing here?” He asked wearily, pulling off his tie and dropping his suit coat over a chair just by the door. “Where’s Bikky?” Bikky Goldman was an orphaned teenager Ryo had adopted some time ago. He and Dee did not get along well.
“I sent the rug rat out for pizza,” Dee had helped himself to a beer from Ryo’s fridge. “I just didn’t want to be alone.”
“Yeah,” Ryo sighed. “I’ve had a bad day.” He poured himself a glass of white wine, tied on his striped apron and began to fix a salad.
“So have I.”
Ryo paused. Dee had never said anything like that to him before. “What happened?” he asked, coming over to sit next to him.
“I went to visit Mother,” Dee brooded over the mouth of his beer bottle. “She keeps asking to go home. I don’t know what to say to her anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” Ryo put his hand on Dee’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Dee put down the beer bottle and rubbed his eyes. “She also keeps asking me if I’ve done my homework. She’s . . . she’s just not Mother. The doctor says she’s doing as well as can be expected, but she’s not doing well at all.”
He started shaking. Ryo turned him into his arms and held him as Dee shuddered on the edge of tears.
Dee’s hand slid down his back . . . and grabbed Ryo’s ass.
“Jeez!” Ryo shoved him away violently and jumped off the couch. “Don’t you ever _stop_?”
“What is your problem?” Dee shouted back. “You were making me feel good, I was just returning the favor?”
“Yeah, that’s what I get for trying to be a nice guy,” Ryo snapped and returned to the salad, shredding the lettuce with a new level of violence.
“Christ! Ryo,” Dee jumped off the couch. “Come on, I was only. . .”
“Getting your damn rocks off as usual.”
“_What is wrong with you_?”
Ryo banged the salad bowl on the counter. “Maybe I had a bad day too!”
“Why the hell didn’t you say something?” Dee spun Ryo around and pinned him against the sink, one hand on either side of Ryo’s waist.
“I did!”
“Shit,” was all Dee could say, he didn’t move. “I’m sorry. Really, I’m sorry, so, what happened?”
“SWAT broke up a crack house. There were these kids in the middle of it. JJ and I got them out before the whole place went up in flames. Their mom was killed in the mess.” Ryo’s face went hard. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to offer to adopt them. I know better with _you_ around.”
“Christ,” Dee pushed off the sink and started pacing. “I wasn’t going to say anything like that! Geez, Ryo. I’m sorry about the kids, I know you and Jackass Adams feel bad about things like that.”
“JJ is not as stupid as you think he is,” Ryo’s voice went icy cold. “I don’t expect you to believe that.”
“Jesus!” Dee raked his hands through his hair. “This is not what I wanted. I’m sorry, damn it!”
“So am I!” Ryo turned his back to Dee, his hands clenched on the rim of the sink.
Dee paced back and forth, he fumbled out a cigarette, then jammed it back in the pack as he remembered Ryo didn’t want him smoking in the apartment. He looked over to where Ryo was still standing at the sink.
“Hey,” Dee said quietly. “Are you crying?”
Ryo didn’t answer.
“Shit,” Dee groaned. “You’re as bad as a chick.” He rubbed his eyes, “Fuck, no, I don’t mean that. Ryo. . . “
He came up and leaned against Ryo, putting his hands over Ryo’s on the sink. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.”
“So am I,” Ryo whispered.
“Crap!” roared Bikky Goldman, standing in the living room with two pizza boxes. “You just can’t keep your goddamn hands to yourself, can you?”
“Shut up, you brat!” Dee whirled shouting.
Ryo just groaned.
-fin-
Fandom: FAKE
Pairing/Character: Dee/Ryo
Author: Murasaki-Dono
Recipient: Nemurihime
Warnings: TWT, m/m, ANGST, bad language
Soundtrack: Helpless - Neil Young
Summary: The boys have a bad day.
Symbols: _italics_
Notes: While I have all respect for Sanami Matoh and her series; she even admits she doesn’t know much about New York City and New York City police requirements. Sharpshooters are members of the NYC SWAT. Sister Maria received what looked like massive head injuries in one of the early volumes.
******
“Hello, Dee,” Sister Maria smiled widely from her chair as she sat in the retirement home’s solarium. She still looked very frail, not as frail as she had been in the hospital after the bombing that destroyed the orphanage she had run for many years, yet she was not the fiery, dynamic person who had been a vital part of Detective Dee Laytner’s early life.
“Hello, Mother,” Dee bent and kissed her cheek. “How are you feeling?” He sank to his knees next to her chair.
“I want to go home,” her face dropped into woe. “This is a very nice place, but I have to get back to the children.”
“Mother, you still have to get well,” Dee reminded her gently. She always asked and it always broke his heart when she did.
“I’m just fine. Someone has to take care of the children.”
“The children are fine, the diocese is taking care of them.” Catholic Services had stepped in and made sure all of Sister Maria’s charges were in foster care.
“Oh, I suppose,” she sighed deeply. She frowned up at the dark haired man. “Have you been doing your homework?”
Dee flinched. He hadn’t done homework since leaving the Police Academy. “Yes, Mother.”
“You’re not lying to me, are you?” she demanded. “You’ll never pass high school if you don’t do your homework.”
“Yes, Mother,” he whispered. She’d been like this since the bombing. The doctor had said it was a brain injury from the massive head trauma she’d suffered. They were not optimistic about her recovering her full faculties.
“I just worry about you and the children,” she touched his cheek. “That’s why I want to go home and see that they’re all right.”
“They are, Mother,” Dee felt his throat closing and the corners of his eyes getting moist. “You don’t worry about them, or me, you just concentrate on getting better.”
“Yes, dear,” she sighed childishly.
Dee talked to her for a while. She smiled and nodded, but looked at him vacantly. He finally kissed her cheek again and said good-bye. She admonished him to do his homework again.
It was all he could do not to cry on the train ride back from Connecticut.
******
Detective Ryo McLean followed the other members of his SWAT team through the door. Usually he was only called in when his sharp shooting skills were needed, but this old warehouse was suspected of being a major crack processing plant and SWAT had called up every available body it could get its hands on to attack it. Sometime squad leader and fellow detective at the 27th Precinct, JJ Adams was just a step behind him. Both were covered in forty-plus pounds of bulletproof armor and carried riot shields. Ryo’s sandy hair was already dripping sweat down the side of his face.
Chaos erupted. There were shots, crashes, men’s voices cursing, a woman started screaming, Ryo grabbed a running figure by the back of his shirt and threw him towards another officer to subdue.
“God,” said JJ. Ryo saw them; three children, the oldest couldn’t be more than six, huddled in a corner. He didn’t even think; he ran over and set his body between them and the battle going on around him. JJ was right at his side. The shorter man took off his helmet and knelt down, speaking to the children in Spanish.
A curl of smoke billowed from another room. “Evacuate!” the squad leader was screaming. “Evacuate! There’s a fire! _Move it, people_!”
Ryo scooped up one of the children. JJ snatched up the six year old, who clutched the third child in her arms. The men barely made it to the safety behind one of the police cars when the explosions went off.
The children screamed. Ryo heard himself start cursing. There were fire engines rushing to the scene but not before the whole structure was engulfed. The children began crying for their mother.
It was at least another hour and a half before Social Services took them off the two SWAT members’ hands. Ryo had never felt so tired in his life when he finally put away his armor and headed upstairs to plow through the paperwork and give his statement.
He found JJ slumped against the hallway wall when he came out, his head on his knees.
“What is it?” he asked.
JJ’s expressive blue eyes were on the verge of tears. “The kid’s mother was identified as one of the people killed at the scene.”
“God,” was all Ryo could say.
He came home to find Dee sitting in his living room.
“What are you doing here?” He asked wearily, pulling off his tie and dropping his suit coat over a chair just by the door. “Where’s Bikky?” Bikky Goldman was an orphaned teenager Ryo had adopted some time ago. He and Dee did not get along well.
“I sent the rug rat out for pizza,” Dee had helped himself to a beer from Ryo’s fridge. “I just didn’t want to be alone.”
“Yeah,” Ryo sighed. “I’ve had a bad day.” He poured himself a glass of white wine, tied on his striped apron and began to fix a salad.
“So have I.”
Ryo paused. Dee had never said anything like that to him before. “What happened?” he asked, coming over to sit next to him.
“I went to visit Mother,” Dee brooded over the mouth of his beer bottle. “She keeps asking to go home. I don’t know what to say to her anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” Ryo put his hand on Dee’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Dee put down the beer bottle and rubbed his eyes. “She also keeps asking me if I’ve done my homework. She’s . . . she’s just not Mother. The doctor says she’s doing as well as can be expected, but she’s not doing well at all.”
He started shaking. Ryo turned him into his arms and held him as Dee shuddered on the edge of tears.
Dee’s hand slid down his back . . . and grabbed Ryo’s ass.
“Jeez!” Ryo shoved him away violently and jumped off the couch. “Don’t you ever _stop_?”
“What is your problem?” Dee shouted back. “You were making me feel good, I was just returning the favor?”
“Yeah, that’s what I get for trying to be a nice guy,” Ryo snapped and returned to the salad, shredding the lettuce with a new level of violence.
“Christ! Ryo,” Dee jumped off the couch. “Come on, I was only. . .”
“Getting your damn rocks off as usual.”
“_What is wrong with you_?”
Ryo banged the salad bowl on the counter. “Maybe I had a bad day too!”
“Why the hell didn’t you say something?” Dee spun Ryo around and pinned him against the sink, one hand on either side of Ryo’s waist.
“I did!”
“Shit,” was all Dee could say, he didn’t move. “I’m sorry. Really, I’m sorry, so, what happened?”
“SWAT broke up a crack house. There were these kids in the middle of it. JJ and I got them out before the whole place went up in flames. Their mom was killed in the mess.” Ryo’s face went hard. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to offer to adopt them. I know better with _you_ around.”
“Christ,” Dee pushed off the sink and started pacing. “I wasn’t going to say anything like that! Geez, Ryo. I’m sorry about the kids, I know you and Jackass Adams feel bad about things like that.”
“JJ is not as stupid as you think he is,” Ryo’s voice went icy cold. “I don’t expect you to believe that.”
“Jesus!” Dee raked his hands through his hair. “This is not what I wanted. I’m sorry, damn it!”
“So am I!” Ryo turned his back to Dee, his hands clenched on the rim of the sink.
Dee paced back and forth, he fumbled out a cigarette, then jammed it back in the pack as he remembered Ryo didn’t want him smoking in the apartment. He looked over to where Ryo was still standing at the sink.
“Hey,” Dee said quietly. “Are you crying?”
Ryo didn’t answer.
“Shit,” Dee groaned. “You’re as bad as a chick.” He rubbed his eyes, “Fuck, no, I don’t mean that. Ryo. . . “
He came up and leaned against Ryo, putting his hands over Ryo’s on the sink. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.”
“So am I,” Ryo whispered.
“Crap!” roared Bikky Goldman, standing in the living room with two pizza boxes. “You just can’t keep your goddamn hands to yourself, can you?”
“Shut up, you brat!” Dee whirled shouting.
Ryo just groaned.
-fin-