Uncanny
Ch 4: Through the Revolving Door
Time for a little emotional whiplash. Don't worry, Trouble -loves- strong emotions. Flashbacks and quality time with cops are the best! This is fine 😈 If he he can get away, I'm sure a little emotional eating will make everything better ✨
Read it here or over on ao3. 2345 words. Enjoy 😏
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“Trouble?”
“You said I just had to give the statement.” He heard the wobble in his voice, but couldn’t control it. As he stared at Lucas, his vision blurred with tears.
“This happens with violent crimes. Investigators have the scene to look at, but they need to examine all of the evidence that can be gathered.”
“It’s just blood,” he whimpered, rocking back and forth on the edge of his chair. “There’s more in the car.” Trouble shook his head, tears streaming down his face. “Please, Lucas…”
“I see that you’re upset, and I am sorry to ask this of you after everything you’ve been through.”
“Then let me l-leave.”
“Your clothes can’t be logged as evidence while you’re wearing them.”
“I did w-what you wanted,” he sobbed, rubbing the heel of one hand against his cheek, “why are you doing this?”
“If you would like, I can get the form that will help you receive some reimbursement for the loss of—“
“You said I could go!” Trouble yelled, glaring through his tears.
…
“It’s alright,” Lucas said softly, holding a hand out to Trouble, trying to calm him.
“Don’t touch me!” The chair shot backwards as Trouble jumped to his feet, ears back and flat against his skull, teeth sharp and bared.
“I won’t touch you.” Lucas lowered his hand. “I am not trying to keep you from leaving.”
“Why do I have to wear those?” Trouble’s expression twisted as he pointed at the sweat clothes on the table. “Where are you sending me?”
“I am not sending you anywhere. Trouble?” Lucas paused and lowered his voice, falling back on de-escalation training. “You’re safe with me here, remember? Once you’ve changed, I will take you wherever you want to go from here. You have my word.”
“You’ll…drive me home?”
“Yes.” Lucas nodded and smiled, careful to remain still in his chair. “After you change, I will help you leave. I brought in the clothes that I did because those are the only kind of spare clothes that we have to give you.”
“…spare clothes?” he asked, sniffling, arms wrapped around himself.
“Yes. We keep sets of clothes here in case someone needs something clean and dry to change into.”
“…oh.” Trouble looked down at the floor and sniffled. “I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t explain it well and I should have. I’m very sorry for upsetting you, Trouble. I made a mistake just now, but I promise that I am not going to let anything bad happen to you while you’re here.”
“If I...” He closed his eyes, rocking gently back and forth. “If I put those on, I can go?”
“Yes. There’s a private room you can change in, or I can bring you to a bathroom with stalls.” Lucas waited until Trouble met his gaze, then added, “I’ll have to put your clothes into evidence bags and check them in, but the spare clothes are yours to keep. Once all of that is done, I can drive you home.”
“Fine.” Trouble wiped his face on his arm and sniffled again. “I will. You can...have my clothes.”
“We can wait until you’re ready.”
“I’m as ready as I’m gonna be. I just wanna go.” He frowned and picked up the clothes. “Where can I change?”
“The room is down the hall. I’ll let you in.” Lucas rose slowly, went to the door, and gestured for Trouble to follow. “You can leave your dirty clothes right on the floor. Once you’re dressed, you can come out and tell me where you want to go. Does that sound okay?”
Trouble only nodded, still frowning. He hugged the clean clothes to his chest, ears still drawn back.
Lucas held the door for Trouble, then led the way. He opened the changing room for Trouble next, pushing the door wide and moving back to let him get a good look at the space.
“Will you stay here?” Trouble asked softly, hovering on the threshold.
“I’ll wait right here,” Lucas promised, smiling. He noticed that Trouble was still crying, though it was less than before. “You can come out when you’re ready.”
Trouble sighed, then went in, closing the door after himself. It took less than thirty seconds before he re-emerged in the sweatpants and sweatshirt.
“Do the clothes fit you well enough?” It looked like they did to Lucas, but the Trouble’s ears were still lowered.
“Can we go now?” He kept his arms crossed over his chest and avoided Lucas’ gaze.
“If that’s what you want. Follow me.” He glanced back over his shoulder as he retraced the path back through the office to his car, but he needn’t have bothered; Trouble was right on his heels, cringing and silently weeping. He brought Trouble right to his car and opened the door for him. Once he was in the driver’s seat, Lucas glanced over his shoulder to flash Trouble a smile. “Thank you again for giving your statement today. I really appreciate your help. It will aid the investigation. You did very well.”
Trouble nodded, but didn’t look up.
“Could you tell me your address, Trouble?”
He looked up then, wide-eyed.
“Is everything alright?”
“Um.” Trouble nodded. “I, uh, I don’t really have...” He gulped.
“Take your time. It’s okay.”
“I’m not from here,” he mumbled quietly, looking down again while his face flushed. “I don’t live...here.”
“I see.” Lucas kept his face blank. If they needed more information from Trouble later, he’d have to figure out a way to find him. “If you tell me where you have been staying, I can take you there. That way, I can check up on you and make sure you’re doing well.”
Trouble seemed to shrink in the backseat, putting his feet up on the seat and wrapping his arms around his knees.
“If you don’t want to go back to where you were staying, I could take you to a hotel. How does that sound?”
He glanced up. After chewing his lip for a few seconds, Trouble nodded. “Yeah. Downtown?”
“If that’s what you want.” Downtown. Where he’d found Trouble covered in blood in the backseat of a wanted serial killer’s car.
“Thanks.”
Lucas watched as Trouble disappeared inside the entrance of the hotel without so much as a backward glance. At least I’ll have an idea of where to find you.
...
“Multiple fractures?”
“That’s correct.”
“Strange.” Lucas stared at the image on his screen, then swiped to the next. The x-rays of the injuries had been included with all the autopsy findings. “He discharged his weapon in the car. Could his injury have occurred from recoil?” He didn’t think so, but if he’d held the gun at an odd angle, perhaps it was possible.
“Not a chance.”
“You sound certain.” Lucas was already checking his phone for the hotel address he’d marked after dropping Trouble off there.
“The type of suppressor in the ballistics report would’ve greatly reduced any recoil if it didn’t negate it entirely.”
“If he was in a hurry or there was a struggle, could he have closed a car door on his wrist and caused the fractures that way?”
“There were no abrasions, lacerations, or bruises to suggest that happened.” There was a sigh over the voice call. “The injuries are more consistent with a physical assault. I see similar injuries in situations that involve domestic abuse. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Carson finally bit off more than he could chew and got what he had coming to him.”
“I appreciate your insights.” Lucas closed his laptop. That meant there was a possibility that Trouble hadn’t been entirely truthful in his statement. Lucas would have to find him and bring him back in.
“It’s all in my report. If that’s everything...”
“Yes, thank you. I won’t take anymore of your time.” With the call terminated, Lucas put his comm back in his pocket and rose. He needed access to the municipal camera feeds. Once he fed in footage of Trouble from his previous visit, there was every reason to hope he would have an updated idea of where to start his search.
...
“It’s so hot.” Trouble ignored the hand creeping up the back of his shirt and leaned in closer to whisper in his dance partner’s ear, “what if we got out of here?”
“Oh, the third drink was the charm?”
“I guess so.” He forced a laugh and wound one arm around the other man’s neck. Trouble could feel his mouth water at the thought of sinking his teeth into Brynt’s skin. “Is that a yes?”
“We can go to my place.” Brynt drew Trouble close enough to brush his erection against him. “But it won’t be to dance.”
“Whatever you want,” Trouble promised, simpering and batting his lashes. He’d gone so long without a good feed that the alcohol was impacting his balance. Brynt wasn’t exactly what he was in the mood for, but he would do. As soon as they were behind a closed door, he’d take what he needed. He certainly felt hungry enough to drain someone dry in a single go. Still beaming, Trouble reached behind himself to catch Brynt’s wrist, guiding it out of his shirt as he backed toward the closest exit.
The instant they were outside, Brynt shook off Trouble’s hand to seize his arm and jerk him into the side of the building.
“Ow,” he breathed, startled. The back of his head stung where he’d hit it. Asshole! Dizzily, he blinked up at Brynt.
“If I want to touch you, I will.” Brynt gripped Trouble’s throat next, pinning him firmly against the wall. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t try to take my hand off you again.”
“I didn’t...” Trouble tightened his hands into fists, choking back the urge to shift and rip into Brynt. Not here. We’re right outside the club. People will see. “...mean to.” He made himself smile as he reached up to stroke Brynt’s wrist. “Baby, please, take me to bed. You won’t be sorry, I promise.”
“Take your shirt off.”
“I--” He felt himself flush, and unconsciously returned Brynt’s predatory smile. “You’ll have to let me off the wall first, silly.” Trouble bit his lower lip and let the back of his free hand graze against the bulge under Brynt’s slacks. “Pretty please?”
“Strip.” Brynt tightened his grip until Trouble coughed, then released him. “Now.”
“Here?” Trouble ducked his head, fighting to stay in control; he could not look at Brynt’s throat... “If we get started now, you’re not gonna be fit to drive us anywh--”
“What,” Brynt growled, twisting Trouble’s shirt collar in his fist and hauling him in close, “did I say to you?”
“Excuse me.”
Trouble’s eyes went wide. No fucking way. He struggled against Brynt’s hold, trying to look past him.
...
“Fuck off.” Brynt glowered over his shoulder at Lucas.
“Let go of him.” Lucas calmly returned Brynt’s gaze, dressed in plainclothes and looking entirely at ease.
“This isn’t your business, friend.”
“If you’re in the middle of committing an assault, it is my business.” Lucas caught Trouble’s gaze and he peered around Brynt. “Is he hurting you?”
“You a cop or something?” Brynt tugged Trouble against his side, holding the back of his neck. “You know this guy?”
“No, I...I think we should go.” Trouble’s hands were hidden behind his back. He winced as he looked up at Brynt. “Please, baby, forget about him. Let’s leave.”
“Trouble?” Lucas’ hand lowered to the hip where he wore his baton when he was in uniform. A pity that he was in plainclothes. “Please answer my question. Is this man hurting--”
“Weren’t you listening?” Brynt scoffed, smirking. “He doesn’t want anything to do with you, pal.” He tugged Trouble back against his chest and worked a hand up his shirt to pinch where he pleased.
Trouble gasped, eyes huge as he locked gazes with Lucas for a heartbeat. Then he looked away, face flushed.
“I was asking Trouble, not you.” Lucas fished his badge out of his pocket and put a polite smile on his face as he flashed it. “You seem quite intoxicated. I advise that you stop touching him and pay for a ride home. It would be a shame if further involvement of law enforcement was required here tonight.”
“Fucker.” Brynt shoved Trouble to the ground between them and sneered at Lucas. “Have him. Plenty more where he came from.”
Trouble stayed where he landed on his hands and knees, his entire body tense and trembling.
Lucas watched Brynt storm off to be sure he left, then sank to one knee to offer Trouble a hand up.
“Don’t.” Trouble knocked Lucas’ hand away as he glared, his eyes bright with tears.
“I only want to help you stand.” He slowly offered his hand again, at a pace he hoped Trouble would find less offensive. “Are you hurt?”
“What do you want?” He got unsteadily to his feet without Lucas’ help, then swiped an arm across his eyes.
“To speak with you.”
“Now? Here?” Trouble crossed his arms. “Do I have a choice?”
“Why don’t you walk with me back to my car.” He tried a small smile. “I have bottled water in my trunk, if you want one.”
...
“Great.” Fuck. I was so close. He closed his eyes for a moment, only opening them when he felt himself sway. I gotta eat...
“Trouble?”
“What?” he snapped, glaring at Lucas.
“You’re bleeding.”
Trouble followed Lucas’ gaze to his own knees. He’d skinned one when he fell. When his hands tightened into fists, the skin of both palms stung. He groaned and leaned a shoulder against the wall of the club.
“Do you need help walking?”
What I need is to fucking eat, you asshole! “Nah. I...” He straightened up, ignoring the feel of Lucas’ gaze. “I’m fine.”
“Are you...drunk?”
“Does it matter?” he muttered. “Where’s your car?”
“It’s not far. If you would follow me...”
“Yeah, fine.” I can’t believe I have to start all over...
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