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[TIER 10] IATL: Chapter 14
🕑 Added 2022-05-22 13:25:18 +0000 UTCChase wakes up to a gentle shake on his shoulder. He blinks. It's still dark, the only thing lighting up the room is the soft glow from the beeping machine. He groans, back stiff from the awkward position he fell asleep in. Straightening up from the chair, he rubs his eyes, dimly aware of his hand still clasped in Gabriel's relaxed fist. The guy is still fast asleep and Chase smiles as he watches him drool onto his pillow. Looking around, he wonders what had woken him up when his eyes fell upon two slender arms crossed at the chest. Chase trails his eyes upwards and is met by a disapproving look directed his way. Lisa.
"Were you here all night, Chase?" she hisses, moving her hands to her hips now. Chase gulps, suddenly feeling very small. Like a child who's been caught stealing candy. He hangs his head, ashamed. "God, Chase. I shouldn't have told you where Gabriel is in the first place," Lisa berates herself.
Chase looks up guiltily. He doesn't want Lisa to blame herself. He was the one who had conned and sneaked his way to Gabriel. Lisa's eyes flick over to their clasped hands and lingers there for a minute. Her eyes soften with a knowing look, and she flicks her doe-eyed gaze back at Chase. "He's more than just a friend, isn't he?"
Feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, he averts his eyes, landing on Gabriel. He takes in his bruised but relaxed face halfway burrowed in the pillow, his messy hair sticking up everywhere on his head. The little snores that whistles out his bandaged nose, the half open mouth. And he doesn't have it in him to feel apologetic or embarrassed about their relationship. He smiles at how dorky Gabriel looks while he sleeps, thumb rubbing circles onto his skin.
"Yeah. He is." It sounds like a confession, a secret as the words escape his lips. A whisper. A wisp. But a promise nonetheless. When he turns back to Lisa, there's a look of understanding on her features. She lost some of the tension in her shoulders and then she laughed, a soft sound, shaking her head. Without saying a word, she picks up the clipboard hanging at the foot of Gabriel's bed and flips through it. Chase watches as she unhooks the IV drip, replacing it with a new bag.
Lisa leans over the side of the bed and gently nudges Gabriel awake. It's like watching a cat stretch. Unhurried and deliberate. First, Gabriel snuffles a little, nose twitching. Then he digs his head further into the pillow, letting out a soft sigh, a small smile on his lips. When Lisa continues to nudge him, his face scrunches up and he groans grumpily, his arms and legs shifting and moving underneath the cover. It's a slow process, but one that Chase doesn't mind watching every morning with a smirk on his face and mirth in his eyes.
Gabriel's sleepy eyes land on Chase first. He blinks, his face brightening as he registers Chase's presence and smiles, his grip tightening on Chase's hand. As much as he wants to kiss Gabriel right now, there's someone else in the room with them. Someone who's currently narrowing her eyes, arms crossed. Chase tries to subtly signal Lisa's presence with his eyes, but it's a lost cause. Gabriel's brow furrows and he tilts his head, reminding Chase of a bird.
"How are you feeling, Gabriel?" Lisa asks startling Gabriel who snaps his head to the other side in a motion that looks like it hurts. It does if Gabriel's grimace is anything to go by. He closes his eyes and after a moment, clears his throat before speaking. "I feel drowsy." His voice still sounds like he swallowed gravel for breakfast, coarse and rough.
Lisa nods. "Any pain?"
Gabriel seems to consider this then shakes his head. Lisa puts the back of her hand on his forehead, feeling his temperature. She hums. "We gave you some pain meds yesterday so that's no surprise, but it's going to wear off soon. You might feel a bit sore. But don't worry, it's normal. If it gets too bad, press this buzzer and a nurse will stop by." She shows Gabriel a tiny button beside his bed before continuing, her voice taking on a stern tone. "Chase is not allowed to be in here." She glares at him. "I have to insist that he go back to his own bed."
"But-" Gabriel protests.
"Erm-" Chase starts. They both look at each other for a moment before Chase plows on. "I have a confession to make." Two pairs of eyes lock onto him and he feels the tips of his ears burning. "I'm not a patient here," he mumbles to the ground, shuffling his feet.
"I'm sorry, what?" Lisa's voice has taken on a higher note.
"I'm not a patient here," he repeats, louder. "I'm sorry." He chances a look up. When he sees the confusion on Lisa's face, he hurries to explain. "I needed to know if Gabe is alright, okay? No one is telling me anything and I was worried. I didn't know if he's alive or dead! So I sneaked in," he blurts, speaking a mile a minute. "You didn't see how he was when he was brought in. He was barely breathing and I was scared. And Lucas, he-" Gabriel gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. Chase chokes back the words, only then realizing that he had been shaking.
"Whoa, Chase." Lisa raises her hands as if trying to ward off Chase's verbal vomit. "Are you telling me you sneaked into the hospital, stole some sick person's hospital gown and pretended to be a patient so that you can find Gabriel?" Lisa says slowly, brows furrowing.
Chase can't look Lisa in the eyes as he admits, "I stole it from the supply closet." There is a muffled sound from the bed and Chase's eyes snap towards it. Gabriel's mouth is twisting and turning like he's trying to hold in his laughter, his eyes carefully avoiding Chase's. "It's not funny!" He nudges at Gabriel when he begins to shake, his shoulder trembling with the effort to stop the guffaws from spilling out. "You jerk!"
Gabriel breaks and he fucking giggle. Giggle! Like a child. With his eyes all crinkly, lips spread so wide it covers half his face and he's wiping his eyes like there are tears streaming down his face. That bastard! For some reason, Chase ends up grinning too, a soft snort of laughter bubbling out from him. At least he was until he looked up and spotted Lisa.
Lisa has both eyebrows raised and her mouth half open, dumbfounded. Then, she huffs out a laugh. "I don't know if that's the most stupid or the most romantic thing I've seen someone done," she mutters, shaking her head. Their quiet laughter dies down and there's a moment of silence before she adds, "Do you need a ride home?" Chase gapes up at her in surprise. "My shift ends at five, which is in about..." She glances at her watch. "Ten minutes. I would hurry if I were you."
Chase closes his mouth abruptly and turns to look at Gabriel. Bright blue eyes stare back at him. "Chase can come and visit during visiting hours. Like a normal person," Lisa says, rolling her eyes. Gabriel squeezes his hand, smiling a little as he says, "Thank you for the thieving and the ninjaing, Chase." There's glee dancing behind those innocent blue eyes, but Chase can see the gratitude and sincerity there too.
"Anytime, Gabe," he replies, heart warmed. He sneaks a glance at Lisa who is quick to avert her gaze, picking up the clipboard and half-heartedly flipping through it. Leaning over the bed, he presses a quick chaste kiss on Gabriel's lip and mutters, "I'll see you soon." When he straightens up, Lisa is trying hard to hide the big smile encroaching her face. Gabriel, on the other hand, has no qualms whatsoever and is grinning wide, gums and all.
"Goodbye, Chase," he says as Lisa leads him out. Chase gives Gabriel a small wave before he is hidden from view by the curtain Lisa is pulling back into place. There's an awkward silence, Chase is unsure on what to do next. Lisa places a hand at the small of his back and nudges him out the door, following soon after him.
'I'm guessing you didn't come here buck naked. So go put your clothes back on and I'll see you at the entrance in 5 minutes. Is that okay? I want to be home before Ben wakes up."
Chase nods. "Yeah, sure." He turns to go in the direction of the elevator and stops. Looking over his shoulder, he says, "Thank you, Lisa. For everything." She gives him a sweet smile and makes a shooing motion.
Chase grins as he enters the elevator, heart feeling much lighter than it had been in a while. Gabriel is recovering fine and they're- What are they? Are they boyfriends now? The term sounds so weird in his head. Boyfriends. He smiles. He thinks he can get used to that. His heart flutters as he thinks back to their kiss. The way Gabriel's lips fit against his like they belong there. It feels like coming home.
And then there's Lisa. Her simple kindness is like a beacon in the constant darkness that shrouds his life. Too many had taken advantage and too little had cared. Instead of being mad at him, Lisa had handled his dishonesty with an understanding and compassion that leaves him speechless. Her easy going attitude makes it all the easier to accept her generosity. Things aren't rainbow and sunshine, but he's feeling hopeful. For the first time in a long while.
The drive back passes in a blur of jokes and pleasantries. Lisa is a happy-go-lucky kind of woman even if life hasn't been easy for her. He learned that Lisa was knocked up in her early twenties and Ben's father is no longer in the picture. She had to quit medical school to take care of Ben. But far from giving up, she took her GED and became a nurse. It's tough sometimes as a working single mom, but she had no regrets. Ben's the best thing that had ever happened to her. Chase can relate.
"I have that with my little brother, Sam. I uh-" He rubs the back of his neck, feeling self-conscious. "I kind of raised him. We lost our mom when Sam was six months old." The old guilt threatens to overwhelm him again, but he pushes it to the back of his mind. "Our dad, he uh- He never quite recovered."
Lisa takes her hand off the wheels and pats his thigh. She doesn't say anything and he appreciates it. He's tired of hearing people say they're sorry. It's no one's fault but his. "She died in a car crash," he blurts. "We think that she might have been on her way to see me. I was having a sleepover at a friend's. We never did figure out why. Why she get out of bed and drive to see me three blocks down the road at 3 at night." He stares right ahead, chewing the inside of his cheek.
"She left Sam alone at home." After all this time, he still couldn't make sense of that. "It's not like her. At all. It's like she dropped everything and rushed out the house. She was still in her sleeping robe." Lisa gives him a small squeeze, her eyes on the road. "She crashed into a lamppost just outside my friend's house. The crash woke me up. I didn't even realize what happened and who it was until Dad came and picked me up. The look on his face..." He swallows.
"Her brakes weren't working. It was declared an accident. But Dad he- He was convinced it was a homicide. Maybe it's because he's a cop himself. People said he was seeing things he wanted to see. Seeing ghosts where there isn't one. He spent all his waking moment going over mom's case, he was obsessed. After a while, he was forced to retire. Sam, he never got to have a normal childhood. We moved a lot. Dad goes wherever he thinks the leads take him and sometimes he disappears weeks at a time. And every time before he left, he would tell me, 'Take care of Sam, Chase.' Taking care of Sam, that's my job."
He smiles then. "I love my brother. And I know he loves me too. Did you know what his first word was?" Grinning wide, he says, "Chase." His chest feels like it's about to explode with pride. "He said Chase."
Lisa nods, smiling as she recalls her own memories. "Ah yeah. The first word. I remembered what it was like. When Ben first called me Mom... It kind of makes everything worth it, right?" She flashes him a warm smile before returning her eyes on the road. He nods, can't help but agree. "Yeah."
They're silent for a while, each deep in their own thoughts. Then, feeling silly, he lets out an enormous exhale. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I'm not normally this chatty, I swear. You must have Jedi-mind tricked me somehow."
Lisa laughs, a lovely sound. "It's called reciprocation, Chase. I shared something about myself, you shared something in return." She winks at him. "No Jedi-ing involved. And talking about tricks, I can't believe you tricked me into revealing Gabriel's info! Stealing a hospital gown? That's like, the most unbadassed subterfuge ever."
"Hey! It was awesome and you know it. I was like- Batman," he proclaims, dipping his voice low into a growl-like quality. When Lisa turns a skeptical face towards him, he gives her his best imitation of blue steel. Eyes narrowing, cheeks hallowed and lips pursed into a pout. Lisa snorts and he grins, laughing along as he sighs back into his seat. It's been awhile since he felt this free and had so much fun.
When Lisa stops outside the home, she tells him to wait as she fumbles around the glove compartment. She pulls out a card, scrambles for a pen and writes something on the back of it. Then, she hands it to Chase. Confused, he takes it. It's a name card with Lisa's office number and at the back her home address and her personal number. He cocks an eyebrow in a silent question.
"In case you need anything, feel free to call. And the address is for Ben's birthday party. He's turning six this Saturday. And I'm inviting you. You could bring Sam along as well. And Gabriel. There's enough food to go around, I promise. I did my homework." Her eyes widen conspiratorially as she continues. "Kids and their appetites."
Chase is momentarily stunned silent. He looks at the card then backs up at Lisa again. Her face falls as she shifts in her seat. "If you want to. I didn't mean to sound presumptuous. I mean, I would love it if you could come by. But of course, it's up to-"
"I'll come," he blurts. He clears his throat and repeats, in a more polite manner. "Yes, of course. We'll come. Definitely. Thank you for inviting us." Lisa beams, her kind eyes twinkling. "Sam is six too, so..." he trails off.
"Perfect!" Lisa says, beaming wider. Chase returns her smiles, slips the card into his jeans pocket and opens the passenger door. Before he steps out though he gives Lisa one quick hug, grateful to have known her company.
The rain had stopped sometime during the night. The air is crisp and a little chilly but smells fresh and clean. Chase closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, loving the smell of dew and leaves. He waves Lisa goodbye as she drives off, watching her tail lights round the corner and out of sight.
Chase is feeling a little out of sorts as he lets himself into the house, tiptoeing to his room so he wouldn't wake the others up. It's been a long day and he'd experienced a 360 degrees turn of emotions. He's exhausted. Slipping into his room and seeing Sam all curled up in his bed, cover tangled around his tiny legs, he smiles. He places Lisa's card on the bedside table and undresses. Stepping into a clean pair of boxers, he then slips into bed with Sam, ignoring his own filth for the moment. Right now, he is content to just let himself fall asleep with his little brother safely tucked in his arms. Before he knows it, he falls into a deep sleep, loose-limbed with a hint of a smile on his face.
---
The sound of the coffee machine whirring soothes his jangled nerves. Lucas hadn't slept at all last night, tossing and turning in his bed. He finally gave up after hours with no success and decided to take a cold shower, hoping that it would help clear the cobwebs in his head. But damn, was he wrong about that.
Standing under the spray of icy cold water, all that came back to him was the memory of drowning. Death's icy grip pulling him down and under, into the depth of darkness. His lungs screamed in agony as they fought for air but instead filled with salty cold water. The pain in his chest dulled as hundred of thousand needles pricked into every fiber of his being. The pain was excruciating, his muscles cramping in protest. It was a miracle he hadn't died.
And the reason for it all was Michael. So why in God's name did he feel a tinge of happiness at seeing the man again? He should hate him. Kicked him out of the house on sight. Not agreeing to work together again. Not when just seeing the man is setting him on edge like this. Feeling like his skin is too tight around his body, pulling taut and uncomfortable. He doesn't even feel like himself anymore.
Sighing, he sips his coffee. He hums contently at the bitter taste of roasted black coffee. Nothing like some caffeine to start the day. Staring at his half full cup, his mind wanders. It's weird how it seems like just yesterday that he was bickering with Michael over coffee mugs. He was in the middle of their kitchen, searching for his mug only to turn around and see them in Michael's hand. Of course then they had descended into a heated argument on whose mug it was, both of them getting hot headed. Sassy remarks and disguised insults flying across the room.
Come to think of it, they had never got along well. They argued at the smallest thing, butting heads more often than not. It's a wonder why he kept staying with Michael or why Michael let him. They stepped on each other's toes all the time. Perhaps it's because of the close quarters, being constantly in each other's space that caused them to be so hostile. Human beings are not meant to coexist for a long period of time within a certain amount of radius. The fact that he never encountered this problem when he shared a barrack with more than ten men taunts him. He ignores it.
Maybe it's a sign. They're just not meant to be. Like oil on water. They should never have partnered up in the first place. He should have heed the warnings. Stepped away while he still can. Then, maybe he wouldn't have ended up in this mess. A bullet wound in his chest and this ache inside him that has no purpose being there.
He glances at the clock hanging above the kitchen counter. 7 am. Two hours before he has to meet Michael. His gut clenches at the thought. Fuck. Why had he agreed to do this? It's too late to back out now. It's like a game of chicken. First one out is the loser. And Lucas is not a coward. Why should he be the one who's nervous anyway? Michael shot him! If there's anyone who should be feeling like he's about to puke his guts out, it should be Michael. Nonetheless, he still feels green around the edges.
Lucas downs his coffee, stands and stretches. The children will be up soon. It's time to retreat if he wants to avoid the stampede and chaos in the kitchen. He makes some toasts and hurries back to his office. He needs to do some research anyway. Settling behind his desk, he starts up his computer.
Michael had left with the file but he had glimpsed enough to do a bit of digging himself. He spent the next hours reading up on Bleeding Vamps and their activities. It's a relatively new gang, news about it only started a year back. Most of which are about drug trafficking and on one account, a meth lab explosion. Kubrick and Walker's name pop up time and again in related news articles but nothing concrete. He wonders why someone would pay to kill Walker. If it's a territorial war, why not Kubrick? Unless, it's personal. Or perhaps it's an internal thing.
Who hired the kill doesn't matter, though. What matters is that Walker ends up dead. And Lucas doesn't intend for it to be quick and painless. In order to do that, he needs Michael. Hardening his resolve, he pushes his chair back and stands. He's supposed to meet Michael at the motel he's staying at. Some places called Lullaby Blues.
At first Michael had just wanted to stay at the home. Lucas had objected to the idea. Thinking it had something to do with the availability of beds, Michael proposed to take the couch, like he did a hundred times before. The easy familiarity of everything was what sent Lucas over the edge. It's not one of his finest moments. He had flipped and basically chased Michael out the front door, hissing something or other about betrayal and space.
It took him a while before he realized they hadn't agreed on a place to meet when a piece of paper was shoved under the door. For some reason, that made him angrier and he snatched it up, read it and crushed it in his fist, storming back to his room. It might have seemed childish and petty, but it made him feel better so everyone can go and screw themselves.
Everything sucks and he is still in a foul mood when he steps into the motel's reception area. It's a rent-by-the-hour type of motel which is not unusual during a job. On the piece of paper, in Michael's neat handwriting was the name of the motel and the room number. Perhaps because of that, he can't help but feels like a prostitute as he takes the elevator up to Michael's room.
Staring at the number 4D hanging lopsidedly on the door, he raises his hand to knock. Before he's able to, the door opens and Michael is standing there, looking tired and bedraggled like he hadn't had a wink of sleep either. He is still in yesterday's clothing, minus the jacket. He hopes Michael wasn't standing behind the door peering out the peephole waiting for him, though the thought itself is just absurd. Lucas was on time, right at the dot. That's probably why Michael was already at the door. Either that or he heard Lucas approaching.
"You're here," Michael says like he's shocked that Lucas actually came. Well, no one is more surprised than he is.
"Of course. I'm not one to back out of an agreement."
Michael steps aside to let Lucas in. The hallway is narrow and his arm brushes over Michael's chest as he does and a warm tingle blossoms from the point of contact. Suddenly, he's very conscious of their closeness and he quickens his steps inside, wanting to put as much distance between them as possible.
Michael closes the door behind him and follows. He stands a foot or two away, feet apart and waits, piercing blue eyes intent on his face. Feeling uncomfortable, Lucas diverts his attention to the room. It's small, with a single bed, a mini fridge and a desk by the window, which is the only thing that looks used. A laptop and an opened file lies on top of the desk, notes scattered about. It figures that Michael would be up all night working on the case.
"Did you even sleep?" Lucas asks, glancing over at the untouched bed.
Michael shrugs. "What about you? Did you sleep well? You look horrible."
Bristling at the comment, Lucas snaps. "I could say the same about you." Not one minute in and they're on the verge of another catfight. Closing his eyes and taking a deep calming breath, Lucas exhales slowly. Then, ignoring Michael, he turns towards the desk, scooping up the pile of papers there and flips through it. In a number of the pages, the word 'Crossroad Demons' is circled in red. The name rings a bell. He thinks he's heard it before.
Tapping at the red circle, he glances over his shoulder and asks. "Crossroad Demons? Is that another gang?"
Michael nods, walking over. He stops just inches behind Lucas, head craning as he peers at the papers in his hands. The tip of his black hair almost tickled Lucas's nose, he was that close. Tensing, he waits, unwilling to budge but feels the need to. This close, he's able to get a whiff of motor oil and stale sweat; the smell of their car when they do a stake out. It's not pleasant and brings back more unwanted memories of their bickering during those long hours.
Despite that, Lucas takes a deep breath knowing what he'll find underneath that stench. The faint smell of spices and pine, unique to Michael. The woodsy cologne he always wears. Not too much, not too little, but there. A scent that's so familiar he feels an ache. Lucas swallows the lump in his throat.
"The reason Walker is in town?" Michael taps at the red circle. "He's on a drug run for Kubrick. And it's not the first time he's here either. For the past three months, he'd been here three times. Once each month. He'll meet up with someone called 'Hellhound'. I got my hands on him two days ago. Told me he worked for Crossroad Demons and no, he doesn't know who the leader is. Said he'd never seen him. Only that, on the day of the exchange, he'll get an email stating the time, date and location. That's all he knew."
"And you trusted him?"
"No."
Lucas considers him for a moment. "You let him go," he says. It's not a question. It's a statement.
Michael stays silent, intense blue eyes staring right back at him as if challenging him. Then, he sighs, the tension draining from his shoulder. "He's just a teenager, Luke. Besides, I thought I could trail him. He's bound to meet up with Walker soon. And when he does," Michael makes a 'there-you-go' gesture with his hands. "It's a win-win."
Annoyed by the nickname but decides to let it slip, Lucas hums. "So where is he now?"
Michael averts his gaze at that, looking uncomfortable. "At home?"
Lucas widens his eyes in surprise. "You don't have eyes on him?"
Annoyed, Michael bites out. "I have one set of eyes. And they're right here. So yeah, I don't have eyes on him."
"You couldn't have hired someone to tail him?" Lucas exclaims.
"I'm sorry, I thought this was my case. I didn't realize I have to report every little thing that I do." Lucas stares at him, steaming. "He went home and slept. I thought it would be a good time to check out the incident with the truck stop. And I was right, wasn't I? It was Walker! The only thing that I hadn't expected to encounter was you! Sorry if I was a bit distracted by your sudden rise from the dead, okay?"
Lucas bites the inside of his cheek to stop the barrage of words from spilling and making the situation worse than it is. "So what? Hellhound is still at home?"
Michael flushes. "No. When I went back last night, he wasn't home anymore. I don't know where he went."
"He probably knew you were following him and waited until you're gone to make a run for it."
"Tell me something I don't already know," Michael deadpans.
"I can't believe you lost him. Turns out perfect Michael isn't all that flawless after all," Lucas concludes, smug. Michael gives him a sarcastic smile before saying, "He goes to Lawrence High. And if I'm not mistaken, school starts today. So if he goes in, we can pick up his trail there."
"What makes you think he hadn't already blabbed to whoever's in charge? You said so yourself. You lost him. For all we know, they're making preparations and might have already switched Walker's contact person. Then we'll have nothing."
Michael's eyes blaze. "What do you have me do then? Kill him? Then, we'll have nothing either. And I'm not going to torture him so don't even bring that up," he snaps. Lucas stares at him for a moment, taking in his flushed cheeks and fiery eyes. Sighing, he says. "You know, Michael. For a hired killer, you sure are determined not to get your hands dirty."
Michael huffs, the fury in his eyes dim. "I don't kill teenagers. And I don't torture people. There are better ways to get intel." Lucas had always known this about Michael, but still, he couldn't help feeling a grudging respect for the man in front of him. In this industry, going without torturing is like resisting food when you're starving. It's a necessity. Trying to curb the warm feeling from spreading further, Lucas turns back to the page and frowns. "I've heard of this gang before. I just can't place where I did."
"Well, it had to be local," Michael supplies.
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," he sasses. Then, "Huh."
"What?" Michael asks, furrowing his brows at him, intense blue eyes right in his face. Narrowly avoiding stepping back, he glares at Michael, narrowing his eyes. "Do you have to be so close? I can hear you breathing down my face from here." Michael flushes again and steps back. One step. And that's it. Rolling his eyes in frustration, Lucas says. "I know just the person to ask."
