The Boy [mxb]

20

Ken and I worked a tough case today. Anthony Denver looked good for three felony murders. But he was extremely diligent, and our D.A.'s office had been having a really hard time prosecuting him. Despite wit-sec, all of our witnesses kept dying in car 'accidents' before they could take the stand, evidence kept getting thrown out by his lawyer because it was obtained 'unlawfully', and he kept sliding in court. We went to his house to try talking to him again and were surprised to find him sweating buckets, a crazed look in his eyes, and his gun pressed to his lawyer's temple. Told us to shoot him or he'd shoot the lawyer. We were closing in and I guess he couldn't take the heat, couldn't stand the thought of serving three life sentences and rotting in a maximum security prison cell the rest of his life.

Then we saw the drugs on the coffee table, amid strewn-out clothes and condoms.

Ken and I shared a look of grim trepidation, but we're well-trained for this type of situation. First we attempted negotiation, tried to get him to drop the gun. He wouldn't. Just screamed fuck you and I wanna die, but he was so out of his mind on drugs there was no way he could be cognizant of what he was asking. No one that high can be reasoned with.

Alright, I said. I'll shoot you. So I fired rubber bullets, he groaned, released the lawyer and went down. I was on top of him instantly. But then he realized what I'd done and started snarling like a rabid dog, lunged at me with his gun cocked. It happened so fast; we were scuffling on the ground, then in a split second I was staring down the barrel of his gun, my death certain, my eyes closed instinctively in anticipation of my entire world going black - when Ken shot him.

I knew because the explosive sound burst in my ears, but I wasn't dead. Denver's body slid off of me, revealing Ken's tall form.

I lay there for a second, catching my breath, before joining Ken in his efforts to revive the man. His pulse was gone and Ken was still doing CPR, hands shaking, chest heaving and brow slick with sweat.

"Ken, you had no choice," I murmur, gripping his face and forcing him to look at me. "It was classic suicide by cop. Hey, listen to me..." He's a wreck, muttering a litany of Denver's family and IAB and fired and it kills me to see him so broken up. "Hey. It was a good shot. He left you no choice."

"I'm a bad cop," he rasps, skin clammy under my hands. "I'm supposed to be the one that... I-I'm not supposed to-"

"Shut up." I throw my arms around him and hug him fiercely. His strong, muscular arms wrap reflexively around my own back. "You saved me. Fuck, I love you, man."

"I love you too, bro."

His voice is more broken than I've ever heard it before. He's the bravest man I know, has pecs the size of dinner plates, but he's never fatally shot anyone before. There's a first time for everything, though.

"I love you so much," I mutter through a clenched jaw, "and you saved me, okay? That's how I look at it."

"I saved you..."

"Exactly. I would've done the same. You're a dumbass for worrying about getting fired. I won't let anything happen to you. If you go, I go. You're my brother."

The shoulder Ken's face is buried in feels damp. "I've got your six." I kiss his cheek with a loud smack. "If IA wants at you, they'll have to get through me first."

"I got yours too, always. I'd do anything to protect you."

"Mwah." Ken winces and cradles the cheek I nearly tore off in an enthusiastic peck. I slap his back. "C'mon. What do you always say? Bad boys for life, right? Now, are you gonna stand here crying in this washroom some more, or are you gonna come out and eat with the rest of us?"