by Aiden Bates
"Look, we don't think we're superior." Nick stood up. "We just have a certain way of going about things."
"To a certain extent that's natural. I'm prepared for that. From the second I walked into that office I was treated like trash, and I'm honestly not going to tolerate it. I don't have to, and now my boss agrees." He gave Nick a tight, u-shaped grin.
Nick bit his tongue. "I should have asked. I did ask if you were okay, but I should have waited a little bit and asked you when you were a little further removed. I shouldn't have gone digging things up about you." He hung his head a little bit. "I can't pretend that I wouldn't have still gone to the guys. We're pretty closely knit. We're a family. That's what you do, when you have a problem. You bring it to the people that are closest to you."
"Nah. You bring it to the people most concerned first. At which point I'd probably—after telling you off for digging into my personal crap—point out that I have in fact investigated more than a few hate crimes with similar characteristics. No problems, and you can talk to my supervisor about my service record on those. I did ask myself if I should recuse myself. I considered if I should use it as an excuse to get off that case, because exposing myself to the hostility of you and that department is not good for me. But you know what? I figured it would be best to get the job over with and move on." Ryan straightened up off of the wall.
Nick took a deep breath. "So where does that leave us?"
"You will go back to work, and I’m going back to Abused Persons. I like it there. The team is friendly and they pick you up instead of tear you down." Ryan walked over to the couch.
"Do they know?" Nick followed him, but sat as far away as he could. He wished that Ryan would put a shirt on, or take the sleep pants off.
"What, about Dan? They know enough." He shrugged and slouched down. "It's not something that comes up all that often."
"Do you want to talk about him?" Nick laced his fingers together. "I mean, that looks like it hurt."
Ryan went perfectly still, and Nick cursed himself. He shouldn't have said anything.
"It did. I mean it was supposed to kill me," Ryan said after a moment, in a very quiet voice. "Dan tried to defend me and Eric stabbed him in the neck for his trouble. I fought, of course. I thought if I could just stop the bleeding, he'd be fine, but he was already dead." Ryan laughed, head down. "I mean, there I am, bleeding out onto the grass in front of that statue of the guy on the horse. You know the one I mean, the one in front of the MFA. Anyway, there I am, bleeding out, and I've got my hand over this gaping hole in his neck. I could see bone."
"Jesus." Nick reached out and put a hand on Ryan's shoulder. He didn't think about it, he just did it, and he found Ryan's shoulder shaking. "I can't even imagine."
"I fought them, when they tried to put me in the truck. You know how that is. People get combative." Ryan turned to look at him. "They just do. I didn't want to go. They said it was because I wasn't rational, but I was perfectly clear-headed. If Dan wasn't going to make it, I didn't want to make it either. We were about to graduate. He was going to claim me, we were going to graduate and have an amazing life together."
Nick shuddered. He let his arm wind around both of Ryan's bare shoulders. "What happened after that? I mean, did his parents blame you?"
Ryan gave a low chuckle. "They still do. They blame me for losing both of their sons. They didn't order Eric to go kill me, but they fully supported everything that went behind that decision. They don't blame Eric for missing and getting Dan; they blame me for making Dan get in the way." He rubbed at his face. "And it's not like I didn't know that his family felt that way. It's not like I didn't know how awful they were. I knew but thought that it would be okay as long as I had Dan."
"It should have been, man." Nick pulled him in. "It should have all been okay."
"It would never have turned out okay." Ryan got up, slipping out of his embrace, and paced. "Never. I should have known that from the start. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be putting all of this on you." He looked down and away, unwilling to meet Nick's eyes.
Nick jumped up and touched his lips to Ryan's. He wasn't trying to turn him on. He was just trying to give him a little bit of comfort, and maybe startle him out of that spiral his thoughts seemed to be heading in. He'd been wanting to kiss him, and to do more to him, but right now wasn't about Nick.
Someday, though.
"Hey," he said, trying to speak through the overwhelming taste of sweetness on his lips. "Hey. None of that. It's not on you. Eric made his choices. His parents made theirs. That's exactly what you'd say to a survivor, right? Other people's evil choices aren't on you. And I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that since he was willing to defend you, you must have made him very happy."
"It's more than that, though." Ryan looked up into Nick's eyes. "I got him killed!"
"No. Eric got him killed. You tried your best to save him, and it sounds like you gave him the best years of his life. Now go put some clothes on." He gave Ryan a quick squeeze. "I'm guessing you haven't eaten yet, either. I'm taking you out for dinner. No arguments."
Ryan glared, but ran off to do as he was told. Nick sighed and grabbed his coat.
He'd done something awful, and now that he had more of the story he felt about two inches tall. He needed to protect this grieving omega. Now all he had to do was convince him to let him.
Chapter Five
Ryan woke up at his usual time the next morning. He worked out. He showered and shaved. He got dressed, and he made himself some coffee for his travel mug before he headed out the door. He didn't think about kisses. He didn't think about Nick's plush lips on his own. Maybe he couldn't quite look himself in the eye, but he could get through the day that way.
His thoughts as he drove into the office were uncomfortable enough that he almost qualified as driving distracted. He shouldn't be as into Nick as he was. Nick was a hardcore traditionalist, and so set in his ways that he might as well have been concrete. Nothing about him should have appealed to Ryan, except maybe his body. And sure, he'd been able to acknowledge a kind of low-level chemistry between them, but nothing real. Not until that moment when Nick put his arm around Ryan and held him.
And then that kiss. That kiss had been so tender that for a minute Ryan almost forgot who he was with. That kiss had made his heart flutter, and Ryan's heart hadn't been prone to fluttering in years.
It had only lasted for a second, and Ryan knew that Nick hadn't meant anything by it. He'd just wanted to comfort Ryan in that moment. It was a nice gesture, if Ryan had to be honest about it, and it showed Nick in a nicer light than anything else had so far.
It had also set Ryan's whole body on fire.
It was stupid to react that way. Nick wasn't a suitable partner. Ryan wasn't technically looking for a long term partner, not that he'd necessarily say no to one either, and a short term hook-up with another state trooper could only mean bad things. But knowing that it was a stupid reaction and stopping the stupid reaction from happening were two different things. He might as well try to stop Red Sox fans from chanting "Yankees Suck."
Lt. Frisk was waiting for him when he got into the office. Her pale face was grave, and Ryan's heart sank. "Let me guess. Bad news," he said, putting his briefcase down.
She managed half a grin. "You could say that. We have to go meet with Crystal, Lt. Devlin, and Lt. Colonel Stollarz in five minutes."
Ryan hesitated, hand poised over his travel mug. "Should I bother taking off my coat?"
Frisk looked down for a moment. "I don't know, Ryan. I really don't."
Ryan leaned against his desk. "Robles came over to my place last night."
Frisk lifted a blonde eyebrow. "Did he now?"
Ryan's face got hot. "Uninvited, and it wasn't like that. We hashed a couple of things out. I don't have a lot of faith that anything will get better. Just because he didn't mean to be a giant prick doesn't take away from the fact that he was, in fact, a giant prick. But the fact that he was willing to co
me out to Marlborough says a lot, I guess."
"I guess it's something." She glanced at the clock. "Wwe might as well head over to the meeting. It's not like dragging our feet is going to stop it from happening."
Frisk led him out into the hall and over to a conference room. The conference rooms back here weren't the same conference rooms that the public got to see. These weren't dressed up conference rooms, with comfortable chairs, soft lighting, and occasional floral arrangements. These were bare bones deals, with hard plastic chairs around a stark white table. This one was extra fancy in that they had a white board on the wall.
Lt. Devlin and Nick followed a moment afterward. Nick gave Ryan a tiny, shy smile, but his commanding officer elbowed him in the ribs. "Not a word!" he hissed.
Nick hung his head in contrition.
Ryan straightened up in his seat, just a little. Nick had tried to make an overture, he was sure of it. That had to mean something, right?
He kept his body still, but mentally kicked himself. It meant nothing. At least, it didn't mean that Nick had experienced some kind of radical change of heart and wanted to spend his days with a damaged-goods omega. It just meant that he was being civil after he'd talked Ryan down last night. That was all, and if Ryan wanted more then he needed to go looking somewhere else.
Maybe it was a good sign that he was thinking about more, though. Maybe it meant something good for Ryan, as a person. Maybe it just meant that Ryan himself was ready to move forward with the rest of his life. He'd never get over Dan, or get past Dan's death, but he should probably think about moving forward.
Dan would want it that way, wouldn't he?
They all rose when Lt. Colonel Stollarz walked into the room. Stollarz looked around and nodded once. "Good. You're all here. Let's get started." He sat down.
Ryan sat down too, as did the others, and Ryan got a chance to study his boss' boss. If Stollarz hadn't served in the military, probably the Marines, Ryan would eat his own shoes. He still had the same haircut, for crying out loud, and he walked like he was still on a parade ground.
"All right," Stollarz said, in a voice thick with a Southeastern Massachusetts accent. "I'm going to lay pretty much all of my cards out on the table. The entire State Trooper agency is coming under a ton of fire for diversity related issues. Some of that fire is well deserved." He held up a hand when Devlin opened his mouth. "Let me finish. That lack of diversity is represented very well in the Cold Case unit.
"My bosses have come down very strongly on all of the division leaders. They want to see improvements. Of course, Cold Case is a highly visible unit, so you can imagine that the pressure on me is a little more pointed." He glared at Devlin. "Which was made clear at the outset."
Stollarz turned his attention to Frisk. "When I asked for the best and the brightest, you sent Detective Tran. He's got an impressive record. You didn't tell me that he had a complication."
Ryan felt his teeth grinding. Dan wasn't a complication; he was the love of Ryan's life.
Frisk cleared her throat. "It was detailed in the report that I gave you, sir." She reached out and took the file on the top of his pile. After flipping past two pages, she found the relevant piece of information. "Right here."
Stollarz frowned. "Oh. I hadn't read that far. It says here that he's worked hate crimes without prejudice."
"That's correct." Frisk glowered at Devlin. "We've had no problems with him at all, and he's got an excellent track record of closed cases. While I hate to lose him even on a single case, I recognize that the Townsend-O'Neal murders are a highly visible case right now and the community needs closure."
Devlin sighed. "Look, Robles understands that what he did was wrong. He does. We've talked it out. The thing is, while I was willing to take on someone from the outside, I honestly think that my unit isn't ready to absorb any outsiders. It's messing with their process. They don't trust people from outside the unit. They're uncomfortable with it, and I think that lack of trust is what's causing a lot of the problems here today."
Stollarz snorted. "Are they adults or are they toddlers, Tom? Christ, I think Sam Nenci is older than I am."
"Maybe, sir. But if you want the case solved, the guys have to feel comfortable exchanging ideas. And they don't feel comfortable exchanging ideas around outsiders."
Ryan scoffed. This was such a charade. Everyone wanted the same thing here. He wanted to be off the case, Frisk wanted him off the case, and the two from Cold Case wanted him as far from their department as they could get him. They'd just admitted it, for crying out loud.
"Something funny, Detective?" Stollarz looked at him down his long nose.
"Sorry, sir." Ryan couldn't bring himself to sound repentant. "It's just that it seems counterproductive to force this on everyone. I was willing to give it a try. I was. And look, Robles stopped by last night, we hashed some things out, I promise no hard feelings." That wasn't entirely true. Ryan still resented what Nick had done, but he couldn't do anything about it. "Isn't it more productive, and more fair to those families, to let us go back to our own separate little silos?"
Stollarz stared at Ryan for a long minute, and Ryan wondered if he'd gone a step too far. Then Stollarz sat back for a moment. "If this were a normal case, I'd say that I agreed with you. The way that department has treated you has been abominable, and that needs to be addressed.
"But this isn't some normal case. There is a plan in place to recruit more diversely for the Cold Case unit, I promise you. In the meantime, this is a case that the entire nation will be watching. You're too young to remember Townsend's murder. It was a real black eye for Boston, and the Commonwealth. We need to solve it. And we need to show the world that we've progressed past the point where a young man can be bludgeoned to death and left on a public street and nothing will be done for forty years. Gentlemen, we need to prove to the world that times really have changed with the Massachusetts State Police."
Ryan met the commander's eyes, chin stuck out. He didn't have to put words to his thoughts. They were obvious to anyone who saw him. They wouldn't have been in that room if times had changed all that much.
Stollarz looked away first. "They're changing, anyway." He shuffled his papers. "Where does the case stand now?"
Nick looked at Ryan. Ryan looked back at Nick. "We've sifted through the old evidence, sir," Nick told him. "We're starting to talk to witnesses. We're certain that the killer is someone who knew Maureen O'Neal personally."
"That's borne out by the way her body was buried," Ryan hastened to add. "Also the location. It was a convenient location, but it would only have been known to someone who was local to South Boston at the time of the murder. I've got calls in to the gas company, the water company, the electric company, and to the city archaeology department just to figure out when a trench might have been open near the burial site."
"Good thinking," Stollarz told him. "What else?"
"The dump site for Townsend is only a few blocks from where Maureen was buried." Nick cleared his throat and glanced at Ryan before continuing. "I don't know if it's significant, but Crime Scene A, where Townsend's body was dumped, is also across the street from the O'Neal family business."
Stollarz drummed his fingertips on the tabletop. "I think that's something to follow up on. Do it."
Nick all but jumped. "We've got a bunch of different avenues to cover, sir."
"Of course you do. At the same time, the simplest solution can't be ruled out, until it can. You have to follow up on all possible leads, Robles, not just the palatable ones." He rose. "I understand that throwing the two of you together was not the ideal solution for either of you. You'd both rather have had anything but that. That said, I think you're the best ones to solve this case. What you do once that's finished is up to you." He left the room.
Frisk and Devlin stared at one another. "I guess that this means we get to keep him," Devlin said after a second.
"No." Frisk flattened out her mouth and shook her head. "His pay is still com
ing out of my cost center, so he's still under my command. He just happens to be working on your case. Know this, Devlin. If your men continue to harass, abuse, or try to intimidate my trooper, I will personally make your life a living hell. And I know how to do it."
Devlin winced. "All right, boys. You heard the lady."
With that, the two senior officers left the room, and Ryan and Nick were all alone. They looked at one another. "I guess that's it, then." Nick looked away. "Can't say we didn't try."
A pit formed in the middle of Ryan's stomach. "Yeah. Can't say I'm surprised. As soon as I found out who we were meeting with I kind of suspected that we'd be dealing with that."
"Right." Nick squirmed. "So what do you want to do? Just push on?"
