MS - Rav's newest story

[Greyfoxx]

Just read all i missed

 

love the cop meeting about me. bwhahahaha

 

and everything...its just amazing!

 

cant wait for more

[Ravynlee]

Aww thanks guys, makes me blush hehe.

As for the violence, well I can't justify any of it. I just imagine this stuff up and pen it that way, I neither condone nor actually enjoy it (depends on the circumstances really buahaha) but I rationalize that while Mike isn't anywhere like this in reality as an authority figure in this type of circumstance anyone pretty much would be, whether it be a power-trip, for the sake of keeping face/instilling fear/reputation, or basically to some degree the token 'bad guy' every story essentially needs. No matter. You should all know me well enough by now that I over-analyze everything, so I hope I am instilling even a tiny sense here that what you perceive as right isn't always right and vise versa. Life really isn't so clean cut as much as we try and make it.

Mike isn't just the token baddie here, his motives are almost admirable if you really look at it.

Mel struggles to adjust to her role as a murderer of sorts with humanity.

Fox is fighting to prove herself, to protect her territory, her identity

Rob, arguably the biggest walking paradox in this whole thing, is as much a victim as he is a perpetrator, in fact I don't think I deliberately penned anyone (I hope not anyway) in a straightforward manner because each character has their own issues to deal with and their own part to play in this - just like real life.

And while it's far from a factual account you know I always like to inject some sense of reality in where I can, even if its all completely implied haha.

 

So thanks again guys for your kind words and inspiration. Hope to have more soon. Fingers crossed

[woodyloveslinkin]

Anyone can you make you blush woman, even I can!!

*tackle hugs and squashes you with all my weight*

It's getting so hard to keep up with this story, write DS at the same time, and study at the same time for my exams. But what I've read out of it, (a fair majority btw) it's so damn addictive it's like Jack White's voice on paper almost to me. But yet again, you're not Jack White and I will be disturbed if you ever become Jack White or failing that if I wanted to achieve you having a nightmare, Brian Molko.

 

LOTS OF HUGGIES!! OMPA!! HAZAAH!!! ALWAYS YOUR NO.1 MOST LOVED/ADORED DAUGHTER.....

(oh i wonder)

Sarah!!!

[Ravynlee]

---

 

“Must be just like coming home for you, man.” Joel asked with a smirk to his face. “Intense isn’t it?”

With a focussed frown Rob nodded back silently.

Sitting adjacent in the back of the truck Frib looked whiter than his normally pale complexion dictated. Stealing a glimpse out the rear window Joel watched his brother lingering on the sidewalk, his head covered in a backwards cap and a bandana beneath, bowed low in discreet conversation to a youth with coffee coloured skin. Benji nodded, shook the man’s hand and bumped his fist before he surveyed the street and casually approached the van.

Peeling open the off driver’s door he snatched off the headwear and began to unzip his worn flannel jacket, tossing them unceremoniously upon the seat.

“This is the place,” he acknowledged to the troupe watching expectantly from the rear. “Scored a few grams. Big C. The dude there gave it up after a few Jacksons.”

“He say whether the target is there or not?”

“He wouldn’t give it up man, sorry.”

“He didn’t make you did he?”

“No, it’s all clean.”

“Awesome.”

“Packing heavy?”

“Yeah, few 9 mils maybe. I made two. He had a friend near that white Lancer over there, looked like a big guy too. Wouldn’t be surprised if he was packing heat. Can’t say if he’s the only one or not. I’d say there’d have to be more. It’s too quiet out.”

“What, that guy’s bigger than you?”

With a smirk Benji held up his finger and pursed his lips sarcastically at his brother. Joel s******ed back in open amusement.

“So, good to go?”

“Let’s lock and load baby.”

“Alright, this is it.”

After feeding his arms through the bulletproof vest Benji fastened it and pulled the standard jacket over the top, concealing it. The Narcotics Division badge on the sleeve stood out with its white lines against a navy blue field, as did the NYPD print across the back. As the rest of the troupe did a final check of their weapons and armour, he checked, cocked and fed his pistol in its holster beneath the hem of his jacket.

“Ready?”

“I’m not getting any younger here.”

“Let’s do this. I want to get home in time to watch America’s Next Top Model.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Someone let me out before I shoot myself.”

The good-natured banter ended the moment Benji opened the back doors and reached inside, clasping his brother’s hand. They nodded. Wedged between towering giants Frib struggled to swallow his apprehension.

“Take it in two’s. Go in quick and clean. You know the drill guys. Let’s do this.”

“Relax,” Karl smirked down over the youngest member wisely.

Frib nodded. He hoped he looked far more composed than he was feeling on the inside. Oded slapped his shoulder. Joel winked. Sitting directly opposite Rob merely blinked back, his breaths even but just as laboured. The moment of truth had arrived. All their training had brought them to this one moment in time, the monumentality of that realisation pressed like lead against his sinking shoulders. The young rookie’s nervousness didn’t ease as the doors swung open revealing the urban street in broad contrasting daylight.

He squinted beneath a puffy grey sky as the city seemed to hold its breath expectantly.

In a burst of energy they were filing out of the van. Crossing the sidewalk they hurried in pairs towards the front door. Benji and Joel led, Rob and Frib followed, with Karl and Oded bringing up the rear. With a small explosion the door to the unit was kicked inwards and the six uniformed officers filed inside. The noise was chaotic. The noise of barking voices exploded from seemingly all around in a chaotic blur. Darkened corridors opened up to reveal even more corridors. Closed doors swept by like lingering threats. Footsteps thundered up stairwells. Light-starved rooms stinking of chemicals and urine assailed the senses. More yelling, more screaming ensued. Yelling. Noise. Brilliant torch beams lit up tight rooms like miniature swords of sunlight. Trash littered the pathways in every direction, obscuring the way ahead, the way behind. Graffiti stained every conceivable inch of wall space. Rickety stairs screamed beneath their collective weight. Another door was burst open. They swept inside. More yelling. More chaos.

“Get down! Get down!”

“On the floor!”

“Drop it!”

“Where is she? Greyfoxx! Where is she?”

“On your knees, on your knees!”

More footsteps thundered.

Familiar voices were calling out numbers, sequences, codes for each sector, each apartment they cleared.

“112 clear!”

“113 clear!”

Taking it in waves the troupe managed their way upstairs to the second level of units. They gathered before a closed door at the last junction from the stairs. Darkness prevailed so far inside. Boards covered the windows. The air was hot and still and stale of shit, urine and utter helplessness. Empty syringes littered the corners amidst piles of general detritus and waste. Through shafts of torchlight the troupe waited, hunkered down in the shadows as the sound of chaos could be heard on the other side of a closed door. Somewhere in another apartment a baby was crying hysterically. A woman was screaming. Men barked obscenities in a foreign language through walls that seemed paper thin.

Looking back over his shoulder Joel delivered a series of hand gestures to each of the men before they were carried out in quick, precise movements. Benji alone stood and delicately tried the handle. It didn’t turn. Shaking his head he sunk back to a crouched position as were Joel, Rob and Frib. Joel motioned back to Oded and Karl manning the stairwells. One moved up the other down in a silent, stealthy tread. With two fingers Joel pointed from his eyes gesturing towards Rob to motion him left. Frib he motioned right. They would be sweeping the room in two quick successive waves with the twins leading, two more following and the two at the stairs blocking both entry and exit points. Officers outside should have been at that moment falling into place covering the windows should anyone try to flee that route.

This was it.

[Ravynlee]

Nodding to make sure they were all ready Joel gestured aside to his brother. A moment, a heartbeat, a drawn breath later they were bursting in through the door of the apartment.

“NYPD. Put your guns down!”

“Down on the floor! Down on the floor!”

Chaos ensued. More screaming. Dust, heat, chemical fumes, and blood tainted the musky air. Benji and Joel darted inside. A few steps behind Rob and Frib followed. Three men lay dead or dying on the floorboards. Checking each of them for a carotid pulse Benji shook his head to his team.

“Medic!”

“No! Wait… we have to make sure the area’s secure.”

With a nod the rest of the crew quickly checked the ensuing suite to find it empty. Large water cooler bottles littered the floor in a main room, all interconnected by lengths of hose that ran from a pitifully simple burner set. Clear liquid dripped into each of the containers. Dozens of plastic sandwich bags littered a nearby table filled with tablets and powder, interspersed with bundles of counted bills. Frib’s eyes grew wide with wonderment as he stood, slowly taking his surrounds in. Adrenalin coursed through their veins, their voices peaked and wary conveying as much relief as disappointment when they realised that their source had failed them in some regard. Though they had busted a rudimentary drug laboratory their prime haul was nowhere to be seen.

“All clear?”

“Clear.”

“What the shit?” Joel wondered, standing over one of the bodies with a confused frown. Benji shrugged.

“They’ve been necked from ear to ear. Fresh too. Whoever did it is probably still here.”

“No. We would have seen them by now.”

“What, one of their own?” Frib wondered aloud. The Madden twins looked at the rookie with their expressions unchanged.

“They weren’t going in. They’d rather die before ratting out their clique.”

“Or someone was making sure they weren’t going to talk.”

“Either way that’s one hell of a message.”

“Maybe it was rival?”

“No. Too fresh, blood’s still warm. Scan out, do another sweep. Remember keep the shots to a minimum. This place smells worse than a chemical factory. One spark in the wrong place we’re six pieces of toast not walking out of here, yeah?”

Nodding, the trio spread out. The twins always together took right, Rob and Frib taking the left flank while the remaining two stayed outside manning the doorway and stairwells respectively. The silence was eerie. Every breath they took laboured. Floorboards creaked. Neighbours on the other side of the stained paint stripped walls continued yelling back caustically. Frib’s eyes were wide, panicked. Every slightest movement out of the corner of his eyes unnerved him, his pulse already quickened from the rush of adrenalin it took to get him this far. Hearing the twins call back he felt relief physically wash over him.

“All clear?”

Rob nodded to Frib.

“Clear,” Frib bellowed back.

A few rooms away the twins could be heard cursing amongst themselves disappointedly.

“God damn it, where is she?”

“Maybe she got tipped off and fled before we arrived?”

“Maybe the intel was off. It happens.”

“This is the place Hahn gave us. Maybe he was just giving us the run around you know… it’s possible.”

“I don’t know. Call it in.”

As Benji began relaying his information to the ground crews outside the sound of a creaking door suddenly stole everyone’s attentions. There was a blast followed by a cry and then the room lit up with a volley of gunfire from two different directions.

“Cease fire! Cease fire!”

“What the fuck-?”

The sounds of the shots had barely dissipated as a body slumped out of a cupboard and was caught face first by the floor. Panicked footsteps approached and were preceded by the screaming of the two-way and the exhaustive reassurances by the younger Madden twin that they were secure despite the surprise attack. The terse sound of his voice had barely abated when the youngest team member found himself blinking back twice in alarm.

“I- shot-”

Nursing a hand to his chest Frib tentatively slid the tip of his finger in through the hole in his jacket. Benji and Joel descended upon him in equal amounts of alarm and concern.

“Man, you alright?”

“Dude, get the medics up here-”

“Shit man, hold on-”

“No- no, I’m… all good,” Frib said as if barely able to believe it himself.

To their wide worried eyes the young man wrenched at his jacket and peeled it open. The vest below was dented with a small silver smear. Fingering the dent with a reverent touch Frib’s shoulders fell with relief to the hesitant spattering of amusement around him as Karl and Oded burst into the room with their drawn weapons slowly sinking.

“Everyone alright?”

“Yeah, just - surprise.”

“Where’d it hit you?”

“Look there, right over his heart.”

“Jesus Christ that’s one lucky shot. Get a load of that-”

“A few inches higher you wouldn’t have been walking out of here rookie-”

“Good thing you were wearing this old thing then huh?”

“Drama queen. In a hurry to earn his merit badge.”

“Well don’t get too cocky, rookie, you hear?” Benji elbowed Frib playfully. He grinned watching Joel try hard to reach an arm over Rob’s shoulder. Joel was slapping the other man’s chest proudly. “Way to go big guy, kid probably owes you his life.”

“Man can’t get enough being the damned hero, can he?”

“Good thing he’s on our side then, huh?”

Though Rob looked genuinely modest Frib couldn’t help but frown back, pondering the body of the man that had ambushed them at the foot of the cupboard with a dubious pout.

[Ravynlee]

He wasn’t even sure if Rob had been the one to make the kill shot, Frib had certainly never killed a man before, but looking around he didn’t see the same disease he felt churning away inside his stomach and throat like hot let portrayed on anyone else’s faces. Trying to keep his unease hidden Frib blinked up and found himself drawn into a quick embrace against the big man’s chest. Rob thumped his back a little too hard, but it could have been relief, heaven knew by the looks on their faces and their ragged breaths they were all still wired with the effects of the adrenalin - and the fact they had almost lost one of their own to some stupid, unexpected, almost costly mistake.

“Thanks.”

“Watch your back, you hear?”

Hearing Rob’s breath against his temple Frib’s frown buckled before with another hard clap on the back Rob withdrew. He stared down into the young rookie’s eyes but in that brief electric moment it seemed eternal. Frib couldn’t read it. He was still in shock. Someone was clapping Rob on the back again, the sounds echoing too loudly amid that tiny little back room. The stench of gunpowder, fresh blood and chemicals was suddenly overpowering. Frib shuddered. He wanted to be sick. Still keeping grip on Frib’s hand Rob shook it firmly then let it go.

That was a moment before Frib staggered back against a wall and buckled over his knees. He threw up like some terrorised child after a ride at the carnival. The other men laughed, his face tarnished now in ways Frib had only in his worst dreams foresaw coming. Benji and Karl hovered nearby, their voices consolatory but seemingly distant, far off, echoing off the walls too close, the ceiling stripped of paint like some horrified green acid wash too low, pressing in against him. Frib couldn’t really process anything in any great detail, still fingering the hole in his jacket that had missed his heart by the merest of inches. Any other day he would have died. If this had been on the beat he would have died. If he hadn’t been wearing his vest, if it wasn’t for Rob… if it wasn’t for Rob… what if the bullet had come from Rob? He thought to himself suddenly, such a thing was possible, wasn’t it?

Leaning against a wall struggling to catch his breath Frib wiped his mouth and spat aside before he squinted up through raw eyes with dubious suspicion. He glared ahead at the bashful face of his partner with his mind literally spinning at a sickening pace.

Had he been lucky or had that been a deliberate warning? Was he really paranoid or had the adrenalin caused him to see things, to think things that simply weren’t there, that was a classic textbook symptom wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?

“Good job guys… job well done,” someone was praising bit Frib didn’t echo back the sentiment. Uniformed officers were streaming in now and he watched them feeling his blood coursing through his veins like wildfire.

“Fuck this. Let’s buy this lucky punk a round of beers!”

Taking their cues the team began to make their way out of the building.

On their way out one of them paused to take up a scrap of paper that had been tacked to a wall nearby. The rest of the troupe stopped to look back curiously.

“What you got there, big guy?” Benji asked his bearded counterpart.

Karl smirked back wryly, his stern façade never quite settled either way between serious and cynically amused. The paper crinkled as he tried smoothing it out between his gloved hands.

“It’s a newspaper clipping. Dated over a year ago.”

“Oh look, it can read, how cute.”

Blinking up at the stirring remark Karl gave his friend a look of mock insult before he was prompted back to reading.

“Yeah? What’s it say?”

Karl scoffed and looked up at Rob with his smile growing.

“Looks like it really is your lucky day, Bourdon.”

“What the shit?” Joel grinned.

A moment later they were all huddled around the article reading it with squinted eyes against the dusky torchlight, the words Bennington and bust a reoccurring theme throughout.

“Wow, looks like someone’s got a few groupies out in these parts.”

“Maybe that bullet was meant for you after all.”

“Who knows now, huh?”

“Ah the battle may be over but the war has just begun.”

“Cut it with the existentialist bullshit. I’m sorry, this new girlfriend of his-”

“You leave her out of this, bro, man you’re lucky that bullet wasn’t meant for you. Talk shit about Sophie like that, I should be ripping your balls off for even saying shit like that.”

“Oh come on, you know I love her.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean I really love her.”

The men looked back to watch the twins roughhousing briefly in the corridor before with a playful slap and shove they followed the rest of them that had begun descending the stairs like unruly teenagers. Reaching the ground floor Joel struggled to wrangle himself free from his bigger brother’s act of relief and mock-indignation. He stepped in along side Rob just as they were starting to file one by one out the front door.

“Told you it was intense, huh?” Joel s******ed aside to Rob beneath the playful shoves of his brother.

Joel scuffed up Rob’s hair and Benji clapped him on the shoulder with relief as Karl and Oded shared a smile at his back that bordered on paternal. Frib scoffed to himself as he followed them out; unable to shake the nagging doubts festering away at his subconscious that he had somehow, again, inadvertently played into Rob’s hands like some pitiful marionette.

‘Accidents always seem to have a way of happening around you, don’t they Bourdon?’ he heard Captain Goren echo inside his head ominously.

Accident? What if the next bullet wasn’t? What if it had been a set-up? What if the next time-? next time- Was his paranoia really founded about this partner he still really knew so little about or was that gnawing in the pit of his stomach a warning rather than residual fear?

Shaking his head Frib tried to put the memories like flashes, the images of that dead guy and the murderous glee in his eyes, the sound of the shots too close to seem real, the hard thud to his chest like a punch, the stench of blood, chemicals, all of it aside. He struggled to make sense where the act of thinking clearly had seemingly abandoned him. Though the others in front and behind him looked casual enough despite the bust that had just happened Frib contemplated it all in a quick series of anxious heartbeats and a strenuously tested frown. Feeling eyes boring down upon him Frib realised Oded was smiling down over him like a parent with his small smirk and weighted gaze but Frib struggled hard to match it.

Was he in on it too, or did he really know something?

What if he was really wrong about all of this, how low could his character be to blame the man that had just saved his life, he wondered. Then again, deep down, that same constantly nagging voice ate away at him like some tumorous cancer. Was that a chance he was really willing to take? This was his life he was gambling with here - and the lives of god knows how many others if god forbid Rob Bourdon really was a rogue cop, the kind his previous partner had been accused of, the kind that were loathed by their own kind, by society, the very scum of the force, what if-?

Frib bit the inside of his cheek and bowed his eyes from the brilliance of daylight hoping for more reasons than he could comprehend at that moment that he was wrong.

Only time alone was going to tell.

 

---

[Ravynlee]

---

 

Rubbing her face Ravyn stared at the screen before she pushed herself up and left the room in irritation. She had been at this for hours, all night in fact, she had been staring at the screen of her laptop so long her eyes were beginning to make things dance in her peripheral vision. Still the screen remained open and empty. It didn’t seem to matter how long she sat staring at it, how hard she tried to will the words from her head to her fingertips the computer screen remained as blank and as empty as a sheet of paper. Nothing she tried worked. It was a vicious fate to have all these words crammed in her head, all these images, all fed by this primal need to get it all out, but still the elements seemed to conspire against her. She remembered Joanna’s often embellished words of praise for what she called her sister’s gift with words, but standing in the doorway nursing an empty glass in her hand Ravyn pouted at that statement dubiously.

She felt like a fraud sometimes.

Huffing out a sound she pushed herself into the kitchen to fetch herself another drink. The sound of bottles chiming from the refrigerator door rang out through the silent apartment with chilling clarity. The clock could be heard ticking away in the next room as though right beside her. Bowing to inspect the last dregs of her Bourbon Ravyn pouted and roughly shoved the refrigerator door closed with a cushioned thump.

Damn it why couldn’t she write this article?

Feeling the weight of her solitude and the burden of self-imposed expectancy bearing down upon her Ravyn snatched up her purse, cell phone and keys and soon left the apartment. Maybe another drink would help her to loosen up a bit she reasoned as if needing to justify her actions to herself amongst others, if anyone bothered enough to even question her. Besides, it was not like it could hurt at this point. It had been weeks since Jammer’s murder and still her killer walked free, the image of his face seared into her mind from staring so long at those files made her brow furrow in consternation and loathing. Even outside away from the oppression of the story that she struggled hard to pen Ravyn could feel it out here like a physical shadow cast across the entire city. Central was always abuzz with life but tonight it was different, it was almost like she could feel his eyes watching her every step from every conceivable street corner and dark window that surrounded her. She knew it was a ridiculous notion but still she couldn’t shake it. Hulking her shoulders against the cold Ravyn quickened her pace, walking the few blocks quickly to the nearest subway station before scurrying inside.

The trains were for the first time in history on time.

Ravyn scoffed at her shifting good fortune.

The universe was finally deciding to cut her some slack for a change. Sweet. Now make the alcohol free and she’d really be in her element, she pondered to herself cynically.

Sinking down onto a seat alone she gathered herself up into that generic posture that all single people do alone on public transport at some ungodly hour of night. Though she had not been the only one to get on she was one of but a handful left after a few stops. Feeling the carriage swaying across the underground tracks she sat staring out the blackened window with her eyes and her thoughts wandering. The sound of another sinking down into a seat behind her instantly made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand to full attention.

“Don’t turn around,” a voice demanded.

She hadn’t even had time to turn her head to see him approaching. It was a man, she knew that much, her senses suddenly keen kept her rigid and focussed straight ahead unflinchingly. She had seen enough stories on the news ironically even penned a few herself on what happened when you made eye contact with the wrong people given certain circumstances, and sometimes unfortunately no particular circumstances at all. She had no intentions on being the next statistic in an already crime-riddled city if she could help it.

“Don’t speak,” the man told her in his low composed tone, “Just listen.”

Ravyn forced out a sound, as much to ground herself as it was to sound compliant. She anticipated her assailant to snatch the purse from her hand and shove a blade in her face as she wrenched the pitiful silver rings off of her fingers but the mental image of that didn’t compete with the physical terror she could feel with his breath on the back of her neck at that very moment in time. The possibility of this being just another simple robbery attempt faded with each passing second, if time existed at all now, whereby all she could feel was the hypnotic swaying of the carriage and the cool autumnal air against her face and this ominous presence behind her like the spectre of death Himself. She was beyond speech now as she heard him shifting, the dilapidated seat squeaking as the train rattled through a turn. With each outgoing breath her terror expanded to the point her lungs felt like they were going to explode. Finally the man spoke again.

“The story you’re writing, drop it. If you value your life and everyone around you, you’ll do exactly what I tell you. Walk away and live. This is you’re only warning. You won’t be told again.”

Ravyn shuddered. A cold fist had squeezed her insides and wrenched all the air from her lungs. Before she could even question how he knew, before she could even utter a sound, she heard the chair squeak as the man stood and calmly strode away. Still frozen in fear she couldn’t force herself to turn around. The train was screeching to a halt at another station. Though it was Ravyn’s stop she didn’t make a move to stand up. Her legs felt like jelly as the realisation of what had just happened to her, and worse still what could have happened, forced her to remain seated and mute, her hands suddenly trembling so bad she didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry in relief or in all-out terror.

Time gradually started up again. Reality seemed to whir back into life on slow motion. People got on but she barely registered any of them now with fearful eyes and a cautious glare. The train was beginning to pull away from the terminal.

Thank god, thank god, thank god, was all she kept thinking. She was so thankful to be alive that she didn’t even care at that precise moment just whom it might have been - until she blinked up and saw a familiar face staring back at her from the platform beneath the brim of a black cap and a small smirk playing on his full lips.

Jesus Christ, that was-!

With his fists in his pockets and his head kept inconspicuously low, Mike Shinoda watched the train depart with his dark eyes like black pearls gleaming with malicious intent beneath the cap’s shadow. Dingy overhead lights flickered playing havoc on his cool tanned face. He scoffed, his smile more malevolent than she had seen in any picture, in any interview, giving nothing away as he simply tugged the cap down lower, turned his shoulder and walked away in the direction they had just travelled.

Ravyn was on her feet impulsively, struggling to get from her seat to the door as the relentless rocking of the train gathering speed fought to keep her down. She didn’t know what she had it in mind to do, the terror of his personal threat still gripping her insides not forgotten nor dispelled but challenged by something else, a morbid curiosity that at that moment had possessed her, be it fuelled by fear, by rage, by hate or by something else as yet undetermined. Slapping her open palms flat against the graffiti-marred sliding doors she cursed in frustration. Her answers, her story, if not her prime target himself was slipping further and further and further away from her, out of her reach…

“God damn it!”

Then just like that he was gone again.

 

---

[Ravynlee]

---

 

“Are you sure it was him?”

“Yes.”

“I mean, are you really sure? Maybe it just looked like-”

“Yes, alright! It was him sis! I saw him, okay! His face, I’d recognise that face anywhere, I’ve only been staring at it now the last few weeks doing this story, I think I would-”

“I’m just saying, maybe that’s part of the problem isn’t it?”

“Excuse me? What, you think I just made that whole thing up?”

“No! No, I just-”

“God, fuck, I can’t believe this, you of all people I thought would believe me…”

“I do sis, I do… it’s just…”

Standing around Joanna’s living room the two women exchanged wary glances as the heat of their confrontation dissipated to the ever-present suburban silence. Beneath the cover of night the city slept blissfully unaware to the unfolding drama. The sofa springs were the only sounds to be heard protesting against Ravyn’s weight as she sunk down onto it and offloaded a heavy sigh. Echoing it with one of her own Joanna swept at her bedraggled hair before she uttered a sound of apology and offered to make her sister a coffee if for no other reason than sheer force of habit.

They remained this way for a long time, divided by silence letting the weight of Ravyn’s confession settle to more manageable proportions. At last when Joanna spoke it was more coherent and awake than it had been moments before, even sounding apologetic despite the fact she had been the one wrenched from her bed out of the blue by the frantic banging at the door.

“Alright, maybe if it is him-”

“It was him.”

“Alright, I’m just saying, you know… maybe it’s a good idea that you listened to him, I mean, sis, think about it. The man himself is telling you to drop it. I think you should. You said he was dangerous. I just don’t want to see anything else happen to you, that’s all.”

“It won’t.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“Because it won’t.”

“Sis, it’s not worth it. Not all over some… story. The man threatened to kill you. I think, no, you have to do what he says.”

“Why?” Ravyn challenged across her fingertips stubbornly. “And be just like everyone else? Don’t you get it, I can’t-”

“Why not?”

“Because then that would make me no better than the rest of them out there, all the people he’s stepping on to get where he is. Sis, the fact he even came to me tells me I have to do this. I’m onto something and I know it, I can feel it. Why else would be so eager to shut me up-?”

“Christ sis, would you listen to yourself? Do you have a death wish or something? No story is worth your life, I don’t care what it is.”

“But he killed Jammer and god knows how many others-”

“Exactly! Exactly my point! How many more will it take, sis, you? Is that what it will take to get you off of this whole thing? It’s not going to bring her back you know, I’m sorry for that but it’s true and you understand this-”

“I get it.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“Jesus Christ, what do you want me to say? This is the biggest story of my life-”

“Look I’m not-” Joanna paused for breath, huffing out her irritation and letting her mounting anger dissipate on that momentary lapse into silence. With a lower voice and a more placating expression, she added, “I think you should just go home, get a few things together and come back here and stay with me for a few weeks, just to let things settle-”

Half way through explaining her offer Joanna was silenced as Ravyn quickly got to her feet to pace the room irritably.

“What and run?” Ravyn scoffed.

She looked more bitter than even scared as she had been upon first arriving, sweeping her fingers over her face and through her hair in quick frustrated movements. Her voice was tight, every movement erratic, edgy. Joanna watched her sister pace willing the right words to come to her that would somehow make everything better again but felt overwhelmed alone on the sofa without Rob there beside her like he should have been for support.

“Sis… I know you don’t want to hear this but… what your doing… it’s not going to bring Nicky back.”

“Christ, is that what you think this all about?”

“Well it is, isn’t it? You seem in such a rush to have yourself killed-”

“I’m not listening to this. I thought you of all people would understand what I’m trying to do, what I-”

“No, sis wait-”

Joanna was scrambling to her feet as Ravyn strode determinedly to the front door. She reached for the handle just as the door swung open. Rob stood there looking affronted and confused, nursing his jacket over one arm and the keys to the door jangling in the fist of his other. His sudden appearance silenced the women briefly as they all exchanged quick terse eye contact before Joanna bowed her head and retreated subserviently, her arms wrapped around her diminutive frame in an age-old gesture of anxiousness.

“What’s going on?” he asked with his usual monotone.

Both women were silent now, retreating into separate corners figuratively to collect their thoughts as Rob made his way into the living room and drew the door to a close behind him.

“Do I even want to know?”

Joanna sighed and tried to smile. With bare feet gently tapping the floorboards she approached her husband to peck his cheek with a kiss in greeting. She recoiled a little as they parted.

“God, you stink like a brewery. Have you been drinking?”

Rob wrestled a guilty smirk as both women temporarily forwent their disagreements to stare at him. His broad shoulders rose and fell as he shook his head, striding further in through the house towards the kitchen where he tossed his jacket over the back of a kitchen chair with a swish. The NYPD was rendered to little more than thick white lines instead of letters. The women followed as he stooped into the refrigerator to withdraw a bottle of water. Unscrewing the cap he groaned as he took a thirsty guzzle.

“No,” he exhaled heavily, running the back of his hand across his shaded face. “The guys like took us out to this bar on east side somewhere. It was just a handful of us and it was just one. Tasted like gasoline or something… then I like came home.”

“My sister almost got herself killed tonight,” Joanna said with her brown eyes seething.

It was unsure just who it was she was pointing her aggression at as Ravyn remained in the doorway with her arms folded across her chest in her usual defensiveness. Rob sipped more from his bottle as he assessed his ex-wife seriously.

“I did not. It was just a- I dunno, a warning,” Ravyn opposed.

[Ravynlee]

“What happened? Warning about what?”

“This man followed her onto a train in the subway tonight and threatened to kill her.”

“What? Who?” Rob grunted, screwing the lid back on to his bottle of water. “You alright?”

“I’m fine. It’s not as big a deal as she’s making it out to be.”

Joanna was struggling to counter that argument, appearing to choke on her words. Beneath both Rob and Joanna’s terse stares Ravyn’s eyes wandered elsewhere. It was almost comical to think they were looking at her like parents chastising a disobedient child. Shaking her head she pursed her lips and deliberately looked away. The fridge door opened and closed again before the silence resumed weighed down with expectancy.

“That man, the one on the news, that Mafia guy. Mike Shinoda. That’s who she said she saw.”

“What?” Rob asked. He sounded abnormally shocked and as defensive as if he had been accused of it himself. “Are you sure?”

“Rob, you need to do something,” Joanna was demanding.

Rob was looking at her, at them both, with his inherent frown notably heavier in consideration. Reaching out Joanna implored him by clasping him on the arm.

“This man is dangerous. If he’s as bad as they keep saying on the news-”

“Did he hurt you? What did he say?”

Ravyn shrugged.

“I dunno. Things.”

“Like what?”

“W- I dunno! Jesus, could you try not being such a fucking cop about it and asking all these questions? It was nothing alright, it was probably just… maybe I imagined it,” Ravyn uttered frowning at the floorboards with a look on her face that said she didn’t actually believe it herself.

“That’s not what she just told me. Sis, you said you were certain-”

“Maybe I was mistaken or something, okay? I was scared, it happens-!”

“I don’t believe you! You just- I can’t-”

“Babe, why don’t you… go give us a minute,” Rob asked, nursing a loose arm around his wife gingerly.

Whether it was meant to be consoling or impelling her away from him, Joanna glared up from the floor at her sister then at her husband before with a frustrated sniffle she stormed out of the room and hid herself away in the bedroom with a slam. The sound echoed throughout the darkened house like a gunshot blast. It took several moments for the sound to completely dissipate as the sounds of cicadas continued their chorus outside, underpinning the settling tension. Rob sighed and scratched at the back of his head wearily. The watch on his wrist rattled too loud with each physical movement against the stillness. With wandering eyes Ravyn eventually faced him, awaiting the confrontation that just by the look on his face she knew was sure to come.

“What’s going on, Rave?” he wanted to know.

Ravyn shrugged. Knowing his silence would not end now until she said something Ravyn eventually huffed out a sigh herself and approached him.

“It was nothing. He just… was trying to scare me, that’s all.”

“Scare you about what?”

“This story, you know, this whole thing. He knows about it. I don’t know how he knows or what but he’s afraid I’ll say something. He’s obviously worried I’ll find out something about him that he doesn’t want the world to know.”

Rob nodded to himself dubiously.

“And you’re sure it’s him.”

“I’d stake my life on it,” Ravyn said.

Rob scoffed as if she had said something prolific. Leaning down across the breakfast bar as she was doing the big man propped himself up on his elbows and stared off out the blackened windows of the backyard with a considerate silence.

“Let me tell you something,” he said, his voice deliberately low now they were in relatively close quarters. “Like I know you’re not interested in hearing what I have to say and like never really were but, I am telling you as a friend and as family Rave to just let this go. This guy is not afraid of anyone, especially not you.”

“You speak about him as if you know him.”

Rob dipped his head to ponder the bench top beneath his arms. His voice had lost what there was of its personality as he stood there thinking.

“He came to me a last week and told me you’d been snooping around his house - scared his wife with all these like allegations. You’re lucky I don’t have you charged for harassment. This isn’t some game you know. This is a man’s life you’re playing with, his family.”

“He went and saw you about me?” Ravyn scoffed bitterly. “Please. I was just in the neighbourhood and I was asking her a few questions that’s all. There’s nothing illegal about that.”

Rob rolled his eyes and turned his back gesturing she not take up that particular argument with him at that moment. Trifling with something on the bench he turned his attentions back to meet her over the bar, propping himself up on folded arms to match her level as close as his height could comfortably manage. He sighed.

[Ravynlee]

“Jesus Rave, don’t do this. Not now. Joanna doesn’t need this and neither do I. Why don’t you do yourself a favour and drop it for a while. If there is a story to it let the real people handle it. You don’t need to get involved.”

“Real people? You saying what I do doesn’t have as much merit as your job? Christ, it’s just like it was before only I don’t have a ring on my finger as your subservient kitchen bitch to prove it.”

Sliding his eyes across over his shoulder Rob frowned back scathingly at her.

“I’m not going there with you, Rave. We’ve like had that argument too many times.”

“I agree.”

“That would be a first.”

“Listen…” Ravyn said and considered her words carefully a moment before she broached them. “I know you’re trying to do your job, and I know you’re just looking out for me, but… this is important to me. The world needs to know the truth before-”

“Before what?” Rob snapped down at the bench lowly. “Before you get yourself shot or stabbed or god forbid something worse? Jesus Christ Ravyn, think of your sister, think of… Just let it go, alright? You want my advice, like whether it was Mike Shinoda on that train tonight or not, you drop this story and let it go away and maybe, maybe you can pick it up again later when things have cooled off a bit. Not now. Not with your sister like this. She’s vulnerable Ravyn; you want to paint a target on her back too, on mine? This isn’t a game, Rave, please, just… just let it go. I don’t want to arrest you but I will if you force me to. Stay away from Mike and his family and anything at all that even remotely involves him, that’s an order. Don’t make me do anything I’m going to regret.”

Staring back into her ex husband’s eyes Ravyn scoffed back cynically.

“A little late for that isn’t it” she wondered.

Pursing his lips Rob huffed himself off the bench.

“I’m gonna go check on Joanna. You can crash on the couch if you want, you know where everything is…”

“Yeah,” Ravyn grunted back, rubbing her eyes and her brow with her hand still residually shaky after the night’s developments. “Thanks.”

She strode to the living room listening to the muffled sound of voices echo back from several rooms away. Sinking down on the sofa and kicking off her shoes she sat back and nursed her face, her thoughts, in the shadows as her sister could be heard tearfully relaying her opinion back to her husband from the sanctity of their bedroom just down the hall. Guilt and worry burdened her but she fought to force them aside. She didn’t care what anyone else said, she knew in her heart and her head her instincts were right. Somehow it was up to her to make everyone see that. She just needed a break was all, a lead, something, anything that would bring this case out into the spotlight where it so rightfully belonged. Somehow this Jason Shinoda was the key but the only person who was willing to talk to her was inaccessible if she heeded Rob’s warning. Rashell had the answers she needed; she just had to figure out a way to get to Mike’s wife without Mike or anyone else knowing about it. Colloquially she was trapped between a rock and hard place.

“Just like old times alright,” she said to herself and snapped off the lamp nearby with a click.

 

---

 

That's it for now. More as soon as I can manage it.

[crazy robster]

I posted my comments on MSN but just wanted to comment on the lovely set of sig and avy you made! Hahaha GO SIS! That's awesome! The double awesomeness would be if you included the uniformed versions of the 6 officers in the background hell yeah! But this would require a lot of Photoshopping I guess...This could be the cover of your book that will stand on the bookstore shelves etc etc we've been through this before... Oh and thanks again for giving my Madden babies leading position in the team! Adore this!! *hugs* If you update soon I will be indescribably happy!! :D <3

[Friðbjörn]

so much to take in, each time you update haha

 

the gunshot, rav being followed on the train, plus all the other things, good stuff

[crazy robster]

Hey the idea I had before about the book cover...I actually made something hope you like

 

http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g189/rbffe/MS.jpg

 

:D :D

 

Sis if you want a better quality of this for your desktop I have a PNG file as well, I'll send it to you when we chat <3

[Pheonix791989]

ballin. keep writing damn it!! hahaha.

[Ravynlee]

OMG SIS!! That TOTALLY blew me out of the water! It's one thing to see all this in my head but quite another to see it before my very eyes! haha that's freaking AWESOME!! Oh wow, mental images going nuts just off that one visual alone, I'm all (:W haha) just thinking about it!!

And YES I want the PNG file!! Damnit I hope I get off work early enough tonight so we can chat!

As for the sig/avy thing, well *shrugs* shameless self-promotion, what can I say? haha. I know, it's a stretch after so long having Rob there in my sig but hey, considering this story is all I do lately it's only fair the man himself (MS) get the credit for this one. I don't consider Mike an evil man, at least not so far as this story goes, but just the idea I guess of the alternate possibility makes me smile. It's the thrill of the writer I guess to fashion these worlds and live in them. Why not, reality is far less interesting sometimes. And as far as the great influx of info to take in with every update, I guess with a story like this it's necessary. Wouldn't want to run the risk of getting stagnant and losing the reader's interest. That would kill me. But so far so good. Thanks again guys for your responses. :clap:

Am working on updates as we speak. Hope to have them ready for tonight but see how we go. If I get time will post them before work, we'll see.

*hugs*

Thanks again guys. My faithful few. Wouldn't be doing this if it weren't for you

More soon.

[Friðbjörn]

sorry Jojo I got logged off last night >.<

 

but yeah I like where you put the letters

btw...lmfao...I definitely don't feel like I belong among those other heads, haha

 

 

you're gonna go other covers with other characters right?

[crazy robster]

Aww honey it's all good I figured your comp fucked up a bit it's ok <3

I think you DO belong in there you're just too modest to admit it...but that's why I wuv my Fribselot! I don't know, do you guys think I should do more covers with more characters? Like...any suggestions??

[Friðbjörn]

aww you're the best ^_^

 

and hell yeah you could start with the obvious, the sisters!

[Ravynlee]

Wth? You DO belong there Vi (haha old habits ) who said you didn't? You're like the voice of reason amidst that chaos!

As for pics - well sis you saw the montage I did of the 'happy' couple :rofl:

Look regardless the fact your hubby looked like he was pumping steroids its still cute... haha awww.

And as far as more covers, hell I still don't know what Mrs S in this really looks like! Well you know I love the montage ideas, amazes me to see these images all together after imagining them in my head til this point, still a kick you know - Must be what movie producers go through *shrugs* Just awesome.

If you wish to make more, go nuts sis, or anyone for that matter. Hell I know it's a writer's thread but visual aids are always good! Besides, sometimes stories are allowed to be illustrated

As for seeing the sisters - absolutely! Though arguably don't ppl just go to the members pics section for that? o_0

[Friðbjörn]

thanks haha =)

 

and I don't think anyone's got a problem seeing you two in here as well ^^

[Ravynlee]

What, people will think I'm an attention whore! haha

 

Anyway here's more. Thanks again for the reviews etc. :thumbsup:

Surely you don't need disclaimers all the time... if you think any of this is real you need more therapy than I do... and that in itself is saying something! haha

 

 

---

 

 

The man with the shaved head and slivers of silver on the end of his chin was smirking back across the room distantly. Music echoed off the deep red walls. Cigarette smoke swirled lazily towards the ceiling. Candles flickered. Smirking at the vision before her Fox snapped off the bathroom light and strolled across the room to join him. Reaching out she withdrew the clear bottle from the bedside table and sunk down across the foot of the bed with a groan. The man continued to watch her with a drunken satisfaction across his face. Fox sipped from the bottle before the man took a deep drag of his makeshift cigarette before offering it to her with a s******. Squinting through the smoke Fox took a puff before handing it back. Downing more of her Vodka she slumped backwards against his outstretched legs. She stared up at the ceiling without really seeing much of anything in her vision. The man sighed like he wanted to say something profound. Rolling her eyes aside viscerally Fox met his stare as she sipped another mouthful from her bottle.

“You know,” he said with his voice slow, laboured, almost gutturally, “I always admired Chester - man had his own style, his own… unique way of doing things… But you Foxxy… You’re something else.”

“You wouldn’t be the first person to tell me that,” she muttered, reclined once more back against his legs exhaustively.

Rubbing the inside of her arm seemed a chore as the music continued on all around them, a primal pulse that seemed to resonate with more life than the two occupants of the room at that very moment in time. Closing her eyes Fox felt her mind melting into the back of her skull. She let out a weary curse.

“So… what else can I do you for?” he smirked taking another hit from the thick white cigarette. “I doubt you came all the way out here just to… sample the merchandise, though I’ll admit, I’m flattered.”

Pulling herself up to look him in the eye Fox let a smirk grow with it’s own momentum.

“Your people. I want them back under one roof.”

The man scoffed as he dragged the last vestige from his toke before stubbing it out in the overflowing ashtray nearby.

“And I suppose you want to be that roof, is that it?”

“Chester is still in charge of things.”

“Your boyfriend is still in jail. I hate to break it to you kid, he’s not getting out anytime soon.”

“Says who?”

“Says everyone,” the man said relaxed against the pillows.

With fingers interlocked across his chest he lay staring back at her with his dark eyes dancing. Candlelight played across his face, casting ominous shadows around the eye sockets and the heavy brow. The flames lit up his eyes. Whether it was a trick of the lights or the drugs coursing through her system Fox was momentarily transfixed with the sight of them, looking almost demonic against the black of his outfit and the red backdrop of the dingy paint-flaked apartment that housed them.

“Why, you know something I don’t?”

“I always know things you don’t. That’s why I’m Fox and you… you’re… well, let’s just say, I know you Draiman. Chester loved you, he trusted you, and so do I.”

“That doesn’t alter the fact he’s still in there and we’re still out here. How’s he supposed to be running the show with ten foot walls, guns and fucking razor wire between us?”

“You let me worry about that,” Fox said matter-of-factly.

Dave Draiman scoffed again to himself before the music divided them and a thoughtful lapse into deep concentration ensued.

“So what are you two cooking up, and what do you want me for?”

“Like I said, I want the old crew back together again.”

“This have anything to do with the pigs raiding your streets back east a few nights back?”

“Please,” Fox scoffed as she swigged at her bottle distastefully. “Those Narcs? They couldn’t find a tit to grope in a whorehouse. I’m not worried about them. The MS crew, they’re taking over and muscling in on our territory and I don’t like it. This used to be our playground. He’s taken our streets, our people, our profits - he’s taking everything and I want it back. I want what’s mine Dave. But I can’t do it alone.”

[Ravynlee]

“So, the great Greyfoxx finally admits to being human.”

“You know what, fuck you, you asshole. I don’t need-”

“Whoa,” Dave smirked, placating with his hands that he had meant no offence despite the strange look still etched into his face.

He watched her settle again from where she had been struggling in her lethargy to get up and storm out. Only making it as far as the edge of the bed Fox sat leaning over her lap nursing her head in her hands with her red hair fallen down either side of her face, veiling herself completely from him.

“Alright,” he confessed at last, his tone dry, low and determined. “What do you need me to do?”

“Who’s in charge of the western quarter?”

“That would be… used to be Dave. Grohl. Why?”

“I need you to get a message to him. I need him involved. I need all the old heads back on board. If Mike wants to stir up trouble lets give it to him. Get Grohl and whoever else is running that side to meet me here. Three days. We’re gonna tighten the noose around this MS bullshit once and for all. See how much he likes it when we give him some of his own medicine back again.”

“Three days. Not much time.”

“Just see that it happens, okay?”

“And what’s my cut in all this?”

Bringing her eyes up Fox swept aside her hair to glare over her shoulder at him with her expression lethal.

“No honour among thieves huh?”

“Nothing for nothing, Foxxy. You know that.”

“Alright. I’ll talk to Chester, maybe-”

“No,” Dave said pushing himself up from the pillows with slow deliberate movements. “No running back and forth. You want respect stop being the go-between. You make the decisions. Chester will learn to live with that. He doesn’t have a choice now does he?”

“You’ve got some balls talking like that around me,” Fox muttered back, meeting his stare with equal determination.

Dave just smirked.

“You’re the one with the balls, Foxxy,” he said, manoeuvring himself to kneel before her gently stroking the hair back from her face. The expression on Fox’s face hadn’t changed. He may as well have been throwing insults for the look she was giving back. “You come here all by yourself. There’s half dozen men just outside those doors, my friends. They have my back. Who has yours?”

Remaining tight-lipped Fox blinked back and said nothing.

“Chas was my friend too, I loved the man like a brother and you know that but his day’s over. It’s time for a changing of the guard.”

“And you want to be the one do you?”

“Well,” Dave said leaning down to breathe down into her face intimately. “I don’t see why we can’t… come to some sort of… arrangement.”

His eyes were still dancing in the candle flame with malicious delight as Fox scoffed at him. She was as impassioned as ever, unmoved by the sentiment as his hand stroked the side of her face gently. She smirked without humour. Pursing her lips she spat at him.

“Fuck you.”

Dave s******ed back at her. Suddenly his fingers tightened a vicious grip on her bottom jaw.

“Fuck me? Who the fuck do you think you are?” he demanded with a severe smile, shaking her. “You come in here and tell me what to do? Me? This is my territory you bitch. You want to make a deal?”

His teeth were showing. Fox sat unperturbed. There was no fear in her eyes, just a raw primal indignation. She sat rigid as he forced his lips against hers roughly, as his fingers clawed at the collar of her jacket. If she were showing any signs of refusal even in his drug-induced frenzy he would not have noticed or altered his course of action. Fox sat there saying nothing, merely turning her head aside as his mouth ravaged her neck. In her mind she wished his kiss belonged to another but her heart was a veritable iron maiden against either sentiment. Reaching down with a sudden twist she had Dave recoiling with a painful wince. She jerked harder. His hands were free of her body and reaching for hers at his exposed crotch. Blinking cooly into his eyes a smirk slowly formed that even the flickering candlelight could not manipulate. She bowed close to breathe intimately into his face now in a cruel role reversal. Dave was too stunned and too anxious in his pain to do much but watch her.

“Three days,” she said slowly, carefully, speaking to the dumbard with his dark eyes seething. “Or I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

With another twist Dave had relented. Fox snorted and shoved him loose. Stooping down she swept up her bottle that had been dropped in the melee. The strong vapours flooded the room but all Fox cared about was draining the few mouthfuls left as Dave sunk back against the cushions nursing himself making sounds like a wounded angry animal. Around the mouth of the bottle she even smiled at him. It was almost satisfying to think how seemingly everyone underestimated her now that Chester wasn’t around, as much as it was an insult. Sure she was an easier target in some ways but she could also use to her advantage. Swilling the strong liquid in her mouth she swallowed it down letting Dave’s words mull about in her head. As strong as she was would she be willing and ready to fill Chester’s shoes if the unforeseeable happened - and if not, would she be just as easily be able to pass control back once and if he ever got out?

Tossing the bottle aside Fox let out a heavy sigh. She had enough on her mind already to think about - but now the seeds of doubt had been sown and she couldn’t shake them.

 

 

---

[Ravynlee]

---

 

Shuffling through her tray of paper work Sarah muffled a yawn behind her hand and slowly summoned her eyes up. The corridor ahead of her was empty, the rest of the nursing staff off covering the last round of their shifts. Stealing a quick look at her wristwatch she rubbed her eyes tiredly.

She hoped Ava was okay.

Blinking aside at the framed picture tucked away in the very corner of her desk she smiled sadly at the little girl grinning back at her. She was growing up so fast sometimes Sarah could hardly believe it. It seemed like only yesterday she had brought that little bundle of mess and noise into the world and here she was practically a little person in her own right now with her bright blue eyes and her cheeky smile captured forever behind that dusty sheet of glass. Sarah’s shoulders rose and fell heavily. Part of her wished with a mother’s longing that she could keep her little girl like this forever, so sweet and innocent and loving before the harsh truths of reality came rushing in to crush her little spirit and pare it away as it invariably would in a city like this. Sarah’s smile dwindled as she reached out to stroke the picture delicately. She wondered how her cough was doing, glimpsing at the clock again as if it’s impassive face held any maternal answers for her. Shit, it was late. If she called now she knew she would only wake the baby sitter up but if she didn’t the niggling fears she carried would only worsen with time. Besides, Ava needed her sleep. She was still so tiny for a four year old, regardless how much she ate she never seemed to put an ounce of weight on from practically the moment Sarah had brought her home from the hospital. She had always been a sick baby, and raising a first child alone by herself Sarah had undoubtedly made more mistakes than she cared admit but still, she was a true fighter in every sense of the word - just like her mother. On the other hand, her father-

Clearing her throat Sarah intentionally halted her thoughts and with renewed focus went back to her paperwork with her frown furrowed. She felt ill in her stomach but put it down to the lack of sleep and stress and the fact she had sat here so long without anything else but mint gum to eat in too may hours. Her head was pounding by the time she eventually drew the folder to a close. The whiteboard at her back needed a few minor adjustments. Checking the time again she stood listening to the nurses begin their exodus back with trolleys and folders of their own before Sarah excused herself and took a quick walk to the cafeteria to clear her head. In the waiting room the television was on. Usually all she heard at this hour of night was infomercials and advertisements for self-reparation but she had walked in just in time to hear the end of the late news update.

“Great, more happy news,” she uttered with disinterest as she sipped from her paper coffee cup. “Just what the world needs.”

‘“-YPD police raided a suspected drug laboratory this early this afternoon in which several suspects were reported to have been found murdered. The raid, which seized substantial but as yet unspecified amounts of drugs and cash, was carried out after information obtained from one time drug-runner turned informant Joseph Hahn. The property, once refuted to have ties to now-incarcerated drug lord Chester Bennington was also-”’

Snapping her eyes up Sarah blinked at the small wall-mounted screen with the mouthful of coffee still on her tongue as the image of the apartment flashed on the screen. It was followed by the face of a man with a small face and beady dark eyes adorned with thick black frames blinking back apathetically in the mug shot that the media had immortalised in every newspaper and advertisement just over a year ago with nauseating repetitiveness. Sarah struggled to swallow down her coffee but no longer savoured the taste of it. The sickness in her stomach now threatened to overcome her as she closed her eyes, drew in a breath and forced herself to calm down feeling the same old anxieties welling up in her chest like a bubbling fountain.

Relax, relax, deep breaths, it’s over now, that’s all that matters, she mentally told herself. She pushed out a heavy exhalation before she opened her eyes again. The memory suddenly affronting her open eyes played like some sadistic film reel as she stood there in that virtually empty room feeling tattooed fingers upon her and those sinewy inked arms around her, feeling his kiss as if it had all just happened again.

He’s not here and he can’t hurt you. You’re fine. Ava’s fine. Relax. Breathe out. There you go. Everything’s going to be fine.

But what if he gets out?

Pouting to herself dubiously Sarah looked around with quick self-conscious movements before she tossed the rest of her tepid coffee into the trashcan and hurriedly strode back to the elevators. Even inside riding the sterile grey cart back up to her floor her breaths still had not regulated. She knew she was being ridiculous but part of her always panicked whenever she thought back to that day, to that one stupid moment in her misspent youth that had fashioned her life into what she now knew of it. Struggling to retain composure she sunk back behind her desk at the nurses’ station despite her co-worker’s lazy and half-heartedly concerned stares. She fobbed off their attentions with a weak smile and a wave of the hand, excusing concern for her ill daughter as the culprit and stopping short to elaborate on what particular fear was wringing her frayed nerves so.

“Doctor,” one of the women urged her. “The patient in 14B is awake. You wanted me to tell you if there was any change in his condition.”

“Thank you,” Sarah nodded and quickly made her way off to investigate.

“Doctor?” the nurse called after her.

Sarah paused and turned around.

“What is it?”

“I think… you might want to call the authorities first.”

“Why? What’s he doing?”

“It’s not what he’s doing,” the nurse said, approaching with an almost uncertain tread.

Her voice was low and there was a strange look to her eyes. Sarah studied them but they were gone back to the floor again before she could read it. She really didn’t have the patience for guessing games under ordinary circumstances so she snapped more brusquely than usual, residually overstrung at the news she had caught down stairs a handful of moments ago.

“Spit it out. It’s been a long night.”

“Well… I thought at first he was dreaming but then when I realised he wasn’t- what I mean to say is… that guy, that one on the TV, that criminal-”

“Yeah, what of him?”

“Well… he, the patient, he… he… he thought I was in there to hurt him.”

“You’re not making any sense. Say again? Are you saying there’s someone else in the room with him? For god’s sake he’s just regained consciousness, the last thing he needs is-”

Sarah began walking off only to be stopped by the nurse’s incessant tone, appearing like some wary twelve-year-old playing dress up in her mother’s uniform, as she stepped in along side to stop her again urgently.

[Ravynlee]

“It’s not that. He’s alone. It’s just… I know it sounds silly but he thought I was in there to kill him. He said he knew people were after him. He thought I was working for the people that did that to him.”

“He remembers the attack?”

“He remembers more than that. He said the people that attacked him, they’re members of a gang. He’s worried they’re going to come back and finish the job.”

“He wants protective custody? This is a hospital, not a safe way house. Let me go talk to him-”

“Doctor?”

“What is it now? What?”

Again the nurse fumbled with her words. There appeared to be actual fear tugging at her voice.

“He said the people that did that were part of that MS crew, you know, Mike Shinoda. I thought it was all just a story made up by the media. You mean to tell me he’s real, all of it?”

Internalising a scoff Sarah shook her head and sent the nurse on her way, relieved to be alone again in that sterile white corridor with her thoughts and her professionally applied smile that barely sat where it was supposed. She dipped her weary eyes a moment and stood pondering the floor. She knew it was no coincidence as she saw the walls pressing in unnaturally closer in her peripheral vision, feeling them threatening to crush her in a vice beneath the weight of her thoughts once more in places they didn’t belong. Swallowing down a snagging lump she drew her head up and drew in another deep cleansing breath.

You got past Chester, you can get past this, she told herself steadily without really feeling convinced of either. Pushing herself off she approached the room at the end of the ward and paused to steal another quick look around. Delicately she twisted the handle. The patient was lying staring at the ceiling as she entered the room. Jeremy looked aside, his dark eyes beneath the bruises and bandages stared at her fearfully.

“S- Sarah?” he asked with his throat husky and parched. “You have to help me.”

“I know,” Sarah said.

Quickly, quietly she closed the door behind her.

 

---

 

The sound of music warbled from the speakers with shrill quality. Recoiling against a loud crackle of static Mel winced and turned her head to the rest of her companions still staring ahead intently. The band on the stage were real amateurs in every respect of the word but Mel couldn’t be convinced that they weren’t just nervous about their big break or the fact they had such an elite audience for this afternoon’s performance.

When the song ended Mike was the first one to applaud them. Tentatively everyone else chimed in. Contributing a few words of praise he prompted them to play another song and sunk back in his seat smiling as usual in a way that made Mel wonder if he wasn’t getting some sick satisfaction watching everyone grimace at each wrong note around him and pretend hard not to.

Leaning forward Ryu was muttering something into Mike’s ear conspiratorially.

Watching a big bearded man wander the stage flank Mike summoned his attentions with a wave and the music cut out instantly.

“Uh yeah, I was thinking maybe like you could tweak that a little,” he called back. To the guys on the stage he laughed a little and excused that it was all routine, apologizing that the acoustics were bad rather than lay the blame squarely at them. Whether or not they were placated they nodded back as Rick took over, manning the soundboard as the band struggled to regroup.

Mike shook his head and slid his temple down to rest upon his fist wearily.

“Jesus, good help is hard to find these days,” Mike said to his immediate party. “Times like this I miss Joe Hahn. Man could make a fifth grader sound like Pavarotti when the dude worked his magic.”

Ryu cleared his throat.

“Boss, we’ve got a situation.”

“Not here,” Mike said without shifting focus from the three youths conferencing on the stage between themselves with discreet mutters. “Yo, are we gonna get this show on the road here or do I have to start looking for another up and coming band to fill this timeslot? You want it you earn it. Let’s hear some music!”

Applauding with an encouraging grin Mike coaxed the young band to start another song much to the internalised groans of his friends around him. He sunk back into his chair maintaining stern eye contact with the wild man Rick just off stage before Ryu could be heard gesturing to initiate conversation again with worry burdening his tone of voice.

“What is it?”

“It’s trouble.”

“Spit it out.”

“You know Pete from the quarter-”

“Our friend in Apocalypse Studios.”

“Who?” a little guy by the name of Lupe at the table asked them.

Tak watched on in his ever observant manner.

“The guy who makes all those low budget movies, you know the one,” Ryu explained. Giovanni Ribisi agreed as if he were remembering a long lost friend.

“Oh yeah, now I remember. The guy with all the zombies and stuff.”

“Oh. Right.”

Blinking back impassively, ever the patient parent, Mike finally regained control over the conversation as he nodded aside to his taller friend.

“Yeah, what of him?”

“Well - he’s refusing to- to… a few of my guys went there like usual yesterday to shake him-”

“Shh,” Mike warned, shifting his eyes across ever so slightly. Ryu nodded bowing closer so that he was almost kissing Mike’s ear.

“He said that he’d come up short again.”

“That’s the third time in as many weeks.”

“It gets worse. He also said like this other crew’s been hassling him, demanding their cut of the action. He said they were running that block again, some bitch and her drug buddy crew, man, I dunno-”

[Ravynlee]

Mike scoffed and sat rubbing at his chin and his goatee considerately. His smile was amused, by all outwards accounts reflective. It took him a moment to speak again as the crew that sat at the table around him all looked back with expectant expressions on their faces.

“Man you want us to go back and-”

“Shit,” Mike was seen to utter. Over the din of the guitar warbling Jimi Hendrix style he raised a hand and had the music cut out again. Sensing now that they weren’t making the grade the band were cursing irritably from the stage.

“Guys, pack it up for today would you? Don’t worry about the- that,” he said gesturing to the instruments they were beginning to free themselves of. “I’ll have my crew take care of that. We need to talk business for a few minutes. Why don’t you go out and wait at the bar, regroup a while, rest like. In fact, don’t call me, I’ll call you - Rick, you mind showing these guys out?”

As the band left, hissing and cussing, Mike and his associates watched them leave with impassioned stares. Someone was brazen enough to wonder aloud why Mike even bothered to subject them all to open auditions with veritable nobodies like that but amid the cautious laughter Mike only smiled back and shrugged.

“Someone has to do it,” he reasoned simply enough. “I’m running a business here remember? The club needs music. It keeps the people happy.”

“Yeah but these guys?”

“We all have to start somewhere,” Mike told them.

He didn’t need to explain the tentative line he had to tread running his legitimate business while maintaining another on the side, the weighty look to his dark eyes saying it all for him. As they shuffled in their seats, waiting for the last stagehand and techie to leave the room, Mike eventually offloaded a heavy sigh as he reclined back in his seat that sounded unnaturally loud in the ear-ringing silence.

“So what do we do about our little problem?” Tak wanted to know.

With fingers interlocked behind his head Mike shrugged back and thought about it.

“Fucking drug addicts. How soon these people forget. You take one off the street ten more take his place like some fucking parasite, it sickens me.”

“You think you know who’s behind it?”

“Oh yeah, I know; our little friend from the other day. Greyfoxx. Again. Bitch is like a dog with an old bone, she just doesn’t know when to let the shit go.”

“You want us to take care of her?”

Mike flashed a less than amused grin at his counterpart as he sat forward over the table to look at them all gravely.

“You want to walk right into a trap you be my guest. I told this bitch before I’m not playing her stupid games anymore. These streets belong to me now, I don’t want any mistake, I don’t want there to be any room for misunderstanding, are we clear on that? You go back to our old friend Pete and… you give him a little physical reminder of what we do for our friends on the street. If he wants to be overrun with pushers and peddlers he’s more than welcome to it, but if he wants our help he has to pay for it like everyone else. This isn’t some fucking charity. As for Fox…” Mike scoffed. He didn’t vocalise his train of thought but his lack of words spoke a universal tome regardless.

“Just make sure you get the word out. I don’t care who these people are; I don’t give two shits what stories they’re selling. These streets are our territory. We lose one block before you know it things will revert back to the way they were before. Wouldn’t be able to take a piss without some junkie holding a knife at your back for another score.”

With the nostalgic pause interred Mike sighed and rubbed his face and motioned the majority leave him to attend their business at hand. Only the usual few remained as the door opened and the others filed out. Against the ever present thump of music warbling from the main floor the entourage sat waiting until the door settled to a close on it’s hinges and muffled the noise of the outside world behind it’s unyielding façade.

“What of other business?” he wanted to know.

Tak, Ryu, Mel, Ribisi and Bam and sat around exchanging wary glances like kids in afternoon detention.

“How’s my tact team doing?”

Ribisi cleared his throat and nodded.

“Yeah they’re… they’re doing good. They took out another lab or something again just yesterday. They’re doing good.”

“And Hahn’s still dropping names like I figured?”

“Yeah. He’s giving them everything they’re asking. Full cooperation. Just like you said.”

“It’s amazing what an impromptu death threat can accomplish,” Mike said, s******ing down at his lap amusedly. The rest of the team s******ed. It wasn’t in so much humour as it was nervousness.

“And what about my golden boy? Still… winning them over with his miraculous string of good luck?”

“You mean the cop?”

“Who else would I be interested in, you’re fucking mother?”

Ribisi cleared his throat again guiltily. He nodded, more vested on scratching the palm of his hand than meet the other man’s eyes with their dark cynicism.

“His ex is still causing us headaches.”

“Surprise, surprise.”

“Got word from one of our people at the paper she works for she’s been in contact with some doctor at this hospital. You know that doctor we rolled? He’s there. Apparently he’s awake now. I don’t think it’s a coincidence she’s there. That reporter I mean, like… you know…”

Mike nodded. Whether weary of the steadily growing tension that now tainted his companion’s voices or of the conversation at large Mike sunk back into his set again to ponder his thoughts with his fingers interlocked across his tee shirt pensively. Mel noticed quite out of the blue that he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring again and frowned at the implications. She found all thoughts stalled when she caught Mike’s eyes studying her studying him with his vigilant stare. With a sideways nod he impelled everyone to leave. Mel went to stand only to have him call her back and sink back into her seat tentatively. The others filed out, the wary looks of Tak and Ryu not losing their venom as the door eventually swung to a sullen close behind them. Now alone together with the beat of the music a secondary heartbeat amid the quiet Mike and Mel sat at opposing ends of the table with their dark eyes meeting somewhere across the middle. It took so long for him to speak again the ongoing silence stretched out to almost intolerable proportions. Drawing his hands up to lock behind his head again Mike offloaded a heavy soul-derived sigh before he made to speak to her again.