[Incomplete]

[el_legendaire]

Who: Jericho, Duke.
When: Hella backdated. After this.
Where: random street (now destroyed) and then random house
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, gore, language, smut.
Summary: Duke killed Vincent. Jericho witnessed it.

Comments

[sharper_shooter]

He had seen everything. From the first shot to the last, from the first uncertain attack to the finality with which Duke put the bullet in Vincent's skull. Then there was that aching stillness, the silence that came after. Jericho's mouth was dry, eyes dry, body crunched into a painful concealed position until now, and his heart was still thudding in his chest, in his skull. Fear, adrenaline, anxiety.

But he could rest now. Now, now that it was all over, now that Vincent wasn't alive. Now that Vincent was dead, and Duke was soaked in blood, barely able to breathe let alone lift the weight of the man he'd just killed. Now that the threat was gone and he, powerless as always, weak as always, could crawl in like a scavenger to pick at what remained

[el_legendaire]

Jericho's approach should have affected him more than it did. He should have been very much caring about what had been witnessed and overheard and what hadn't, should have had a weapon in hand at any approach, should have been ready to defend Vincent's corpse.

He wondered dully why Jericho was even there, if he'd been sent, and then remembered. Of course. Goddamn kids. Goddamn kids that took everything personally, and Jericho had thought himself insulted that he was being left out of the loop.

This was what the loop looked like. Duke hoped in a fit of bitterness that Jericho would finally figure it out, when it had been shoved down his throat like this. This was what 'handling it' was, and it wasn't something someone should want

[sharper_shooter]

There were a lot of things that should've been said. They, the Turks and those four particularly, could define their whole lives by the shit they never said, shit they couldn't say, shit they maybe should have said. Jericho didn't expect that this particular instance would be any different, holding back his own tongue against so many things he wanted to ask Duke. So many things he had to say.

Just a stupid, curious kid, Duke would think. Asking too many fucking questions again.

So he didn't say anything, and shifted Vincent on his shoulder. If he didn't think too hard then it was felt like carrying a heavy sack, not the corpse of someone who was allegedly a comrade. Allegedly. Well, he was. He was also an enemy, a rival, a superior, and an utter prick. Didn't want him dead, though. That much should've been obvious when he refused to plant a bullet in Vincent's skull in that alleyway only a short few days ago, regardless of how he demanded it

[el_legendaire]

Goddamn kids.

Duke hesitated for only a moment longer before obeying, too tired to argue any further and force someone so aggravatingly blind to see sense. Duke could take care of himself. Had taken care of himself all through the war and if he couldn't one day, like today, it didn't bloody well matter. Vincent was the one that had to be protected, brought home. There was no one anywhere waiting for Duke.

But he obeyed, for reasons that didn't bear thinking about. Maybe it was the safety net of someone else's orders. A decision he couldn't be blamed for because he hadn't made it.

Weapons and curatives were collected, and Jericho scowled upon realizing that Duke knew very well his salvation was only a little way up the street in a hi-potion but had still refused the help getting there, and after it Duke was at least strong enough to pull his own weight and not hang all over Jericho. They took Vincent between them