closer to the edge

Flashes of the docs, nurses coming in to prod and poke in a way that had him swimming to the surface through whatever the hell they’d pumped into him. Eyelids lead heavy, the sluggish, as they peeled open to blood shot slits. The bite of devices on his fingers and needles in his veins. Cool hands on clammy skin checking to make sure it wasn’t fever hot. No infection in the wounds incised into his skin after being tossed around the street.

Chase grunted, shifting restlessly enough on the white sheets to have the ache build in bruised skin and cracked bone. The first dose to toss that blanket of numbness over him had gone in while he’d thrashed in the street, fighting against the paramedics’ hands. Blood spilling down his chin, sounding like a wounded animal as he got to his hands and knees for just a moment. Swaying there, one eye puffed nearly shut as he tried to locate his weapon.

Secure all weapons. If you didn’t…

His brow furrowed, eyes peeling open unevenly again. Bruising black as the sky had been earlier blooming around the socket. His fingers moved restlessly against the sheets, trapped in the shield of the brace they’d put on it. No fractures. The doc had said that in one of those brief intervals. X-rays flashing in the ER, the doc and the nurses shuffling out into the hallway to avoid that flash of radiation. Not the mechanical thudding of a cat scan, the walls closing in around the shattered parts of his brain until it was all close enough to have him screaming to get out.

No overriding panic this time, the meds still dripping into his hand via the needle tethering him to the bed not to sedate, only to numb what would bite deep without it. Still, his breathing came fast for a moment. A flash of a lanky frame in the doorway, hands scrabbling at the sheets like his service weapon was right at his side again instead of sitting in a locker at the station.

He stared as the form turned. A kid, legs baby gazelle like, like he still had some growing, some steadying to do. The kid stared at him for a moment and Chase felt his heart sink back down out of his throat. Not Nemo.

Another slow blink that put him under long enough for the hands on the clock to tick off another twenty minutes. The light had slid further across the room by then, angling through the blinds to pain stripes across his battered face. Highlighting a nose broken again, the blackening of his eyes and those tiny white patches of steri-strips holding together flesh split by those raw boned hands.

Nemo. The name and the anxiety working to the surface again as the voice came at the doorway. A low mumble, not the fractured screeching of what that scrawny kid who’d been scared of his own shadow. ”Hey.” A voice desert dry, cracking on the single word. Chase’s mouth pursed, pain stabbing through his split brow as he frowned.

Who? The confession wanted to spill out, Agnelli spat through split lips but Mikey would go looking. His brother had just gotten out of jail, pounding on Nemo until he was a stain on the sidewalk would put him back. In the hands of the family that’d torn his own to pieces. Chase planted his hands against the sheets, trying to shove himself upwards until another of those grunts slipped out and he sank back down. Nemo’s words were echoing in his brain, as sharp as the gunshot that’d gone off. The dog…

Dark eyes skittered around the room, like the mutt would be there, white bandage wound round its ribs, it’s reward for sinking teeth into Nemo to stop him. He found nothing but the frown deepened, his shoulders hunching. ”You wanna pour me some of that water before you drag the whole story out?” A breath for both of them before adrenalin pushed Mikey to do what he shouldn’t and him to run after his brother to try and save him from himself again.

Chase pressed split lips together, winced as one cut broke open again, a thin line of blood tracing the spreading sting. ”It was the job. Someone came callin’ for me at the station, waited for me outside. Was there anythin’ at the ‘partment? Anybody call lookin’ f’me?” Words slurring together as he finally met his brother’s eye. ”They … they thought I did somethin’ to ‘em. I didn’t … I c-couldn’t.” That shake in his voice at the memory of Nemo clawing at the already livid scars on his face. ’You did this to me!’ Such certainty in that shrieking voice, pulling at him until he blinked now and all he could see was blood on his own skin, glass glittering in his split knuckles, like diamonds washing down the drain only it hadn’t been riches he was losing but his sanity.

Tagged: MIKEY BUCKLEY * Word Count: 835

No.

The word could’ve snapped out of his split lips with all the force of Katrina, but it still wasn’t going to stop Mikey from heading out there to try and make up for this. Chase could see it in his brother’s face the minute he walked into the room. Those eyes that were shades lighter than his own – carrying slivers of their mother’s green – filled with an inner heat that would be all too easy to have spilling over. The Agnellis had already suckered his brother into putting his faith into that heat before, and then when the flash over had come, they’d run and left Mikey to roast. He didn’t care if it meant that Nemo got to scurry all the way back to New Orleans with teeth marks in his wrist and all that madness swirling in his head, getting away with what he’d done. All he gave two shits about was Mikey not ending up back there with him.

Pain rolled back in as he tried to muscle his way back up in the bed, burning bright in abused muscles and flesh. He wouldn’t admit to it but there was a shake in him as he eased himself back down. Too weak to even get up for a drink of water. If Nemo hadn’t fucked off back to New Orleans then he was a sitting duck here. Not even his service weapon at hand. If Nemo hadn’t taken it then the cops had it in evidence – laughingly for whenever they caught the guy who’d done this and put him behind bars.

Dark eyes returned in a flick to Mikey as he finally agreed. Chase let out a long breath and settled a little easier. His mouth twitched faintly. This wasn’t all that different to when Mikey had been cut going out with Georgie and the rest, he’d been a little errand boy for days after, fetching his brother sodas, comics, staying on the couch with him to watch whatever crap was on TV rather than trying to talk Mikey into heading out into the yard to play a little catch. ”Easy,” Chase coached, just a trace of humour in his voice. ”The cup didn’t do it.” His throat worked hard though, that dry sensation biting deeper as Mikey poured. There wasn’t much to the story that he could paint in concrete facts, not without entirely outing Nemo and creating World War III here.

Chase tensed his jaw, regretted it immediately as the throb started up around his eye again. It didn’t take a genius to follow the line back from his newly released brother to the biggest problem their lives ever had. He met Mikey’s eye, held it even if he wanted to skitter away from that line of questioning. ”And you told ‘em none right? Cause there aren’t anybody out there who’d have any reason to do it.” For all Mikey had to know the Agnellis had finally let him walk. The trouble that had left him in this state when he’d resisted them before left back in New Orleans. Forbes’ people here didn’t know how badly he’d got jumped the second time, when he’d poked his nose in too far and it was gonna stay that way. He was already gonna have every set of eyes on him when he got back to work.

Fingers, scraped even on the hand not braced, reached out and took the cup. Chase looked away from Mikey, that muscle in his jaw that looked like it’d burst like a grape under the pressure. He stared down into the cup for a second before he lifted it to take careful sips. Not answering, just wetting his throat for the lies that had to slip free of it. His eyes flicked up from it as Mikey brought the Agnellis into it though. ”No!” A little more forceful, a little less rusty this time. That was almost the truth, the story always was that Nemo was just some bastard son at best, not appearing until he was practically in middle school. ”Why the hell would they bother reaching out now? They’re gone, Mikey. They’re not gonna come trailing here for us.” Lies. Someone had talk Nemo where he was and had put some bee in that cracked bonnet.

Blood tinged the water pink as he set the half empty cup down on the blankets, fingers still clutching it. Resting his head back against the pillow, his damp lips pressed hard together, he shook his head. ”I was workin’ a case t’day. Some asshole beat his girlfriend, finally … finally he killed her.” The truth, although some part of him felt like shit for making that girl’s death an excuse for this. ”He ran ‘fore we got there but when I was on the way back there was a guy waitin’ there … in the road.” His fingers tightened on the cup, shaking enough to have the water sloshing at its sides. He was on shaky ground now. ”I think he knew it was … up y’know … I got out, tried … tried t’talk him down but he pulled a blade … it went bad. Man, they’re gonna get him … you don’t have ta.” The lies made his ribs ache, his legs moving restlessly under the blankets as he tried to get himself comfortable. It woulda been easier if the Agnellis had sent someone else but it had been Nemo, so sure. Dark brows coming together, Chase looked down at his scabbing over knuckles and only saw a thick coat of blood there.

Tagged: MIKEY BUCKLEY * Word Count: 933

Last time he’d been in a bed like this, coming around after weeks caught in a coma from the beating he’d taken, there’d been no chance of Mikey visiting. News probably woulda hit the prison at the speed of light. Even if the Agnellis hadn’t made sure to pass it along – all the better to get Mikey worked up into the sorta rage that meant other inmates heading to the hospital ward and a half dozen years more added to his sentence – then it would’ve hit the law enforcement grape vine anyway. Nobody liked gossip more than a cop or a prison guard, those dirty little facts hoarded like treasure they could trade with one another.

He’d woken slowly then, eyelids seeming to take an hour to rise that first time. Tubes and wires tethered him but he’d moved slow anyway, like a body drifting in Lake Pontchartrain, hands bobbing on the tides, tethered in water stuff that dragged at those pale limbs as it was tugged onto the shore. ’Chase? Honey, I think he’s awake’. Chase could hear his ma’s worry echoed in Mikey’s gruff words. Fear biting deep that he wouldn’t have eventually come around, eyes flitting to him and darting away again with just a little hitch as they lit on the damage.

The nurses hadn’t brought him a mirror this time but fingers probing lightly after he’d first come around and the reflection of that pain in Roxxi’s dark eyes had shown him enough. It was rough, skin turned stormy sky black and purple in spectacular drifts of bruising, puffed, split skin, the ache in his wrist and ribs. Chase knew he wasn’t pretty on a normal day and this was far from normal. They looked at him and they saw it all like some sorta brutal Picasso painting. Like before it’d leave its marks and then it wouldn’t only be their eyes snagging on it. Nemo had left scars on him the way some son of a bitch had done on him. Stupid flimsy things – the cups, Nemo Agnelli and him.

Chase swallowed, trying to drive that cotton wool feel in his mouth away again while Mikey fussed with the cup. Their questions weren’t gonna get straight answers anyway. The Agnellis had already done too much to pound all their lives to pulp. He knew if he gave Mikey Nemo’s name – or the cops – this bloodshed would grow. It would be Mikey running away from the cops, or worse, laying in the street, choking on his own blood as he waited for the salvation of those approaching sirens to actually arrive. ”Coulda just told ‘em you didn’t know anythin’. They won’t dig more if they know there’s nothin’ there.” Not that it would work that way with Mikey. He could lie, the way he had done with Roxxi, and with the guys who’d stopped by, but Mikey had spent more than half his life looking for lies and deception. Catching it before it hit you was the only way to survive inside.

The lies ripped at his throat as he tore them out of it. His face screwed up so tight that the pain came roaring back. Fingers tightened on the cup, the water sloshing up against its sides like it would all rush out. Chase wanted to reach out and knuckle at his brother’s arm the way he had done when he wanted to get his point across as a kid. ”Maybe they do, maybe they don’t. Either way, they’re not here.” He pressed his lips together, letting the sting bite back that urge to tell Mikey it was too late, the Agnellis were here and were trying to break him like they had before. It hadn’t worked then though, wouldn’t work now. ”I think you can’t be spendin’ your time windin’ yourself up ‘bout them,” Chase sighed on a hissed out breath. ”Maybe they’ll come lookin’ eventually but it don’t matter. You’re free for now, man.” But who knew for how long.

Eyes as black around the outside as in the pupils skittered to the door as Mikey dragged his chair up. The dog had seen Nemo off, but he had a feeling that he’d just gone to ground. Emiliano Agnelli wouldn’t let his people flee entirely. He’d sent Nemo, had probably planted that seed of madness in the guy’s brain. Chase rolled his thumb across the cup, letting the ache it set going in his wrist keep him on edge. ”It’s their job,” he lied. ”Gotta cross those Ts, dot the Is to make sure these assholes don’t just point the finger at someone else on the stand.” He pressed the cup against his blanket covered thigh to stop the shake. ”There were other people … I couldn’t get the shot.” His fingers twitched again though, remembering how the weapon had almost torn itself from his grasp. Brows bunching, the ache between them where the muzzle had hit him.

Chase forced himself to look up and meet Mikey’s eye. One word and he could have Mikey out of town immediately. Pressing money in his pocket, getting him somewhere a million miles away from here to stay. Nowhere would be beyond Emiliano’s reach forever though. The day Mikey had started hanging out with Georgie Agnelli was the day his brother had been damned. Shoving the cup aside, Chase reached out with the hand that wasn’t splinted and gripped Mikey’s jaw gently. ”You’re safe, you hear me? Gonna promise you now man, they’re not ever getting’ their hands on you again. It’s you ‘n’ me now, ‘k? ‘m gonna make sure those sons of bitches never get near you again.” Which meant that the minute he was out of here he was gonna track Nemo down. Dragging him into the station would have the news all over town and Mikey would know he lied, but better that than …

He swallowed back bile as it tried to rush up. ”I need to get out of here. They tell you anythin’ ‘bout when?” Another little white lie smudged with the grime of his attempts to keep his brother safe. Chase lifted his chin towards the door, forced his split lips to curve. Get Mikey’s mind off of it and maybe tear that fear out of his eyes for a little while.

Tagged: MIKEY BUCKLEY * Word Count: 1056