Tick Tock Part Four - The Mouse Fell Down

Tell Me

"You did wonderfully, Gavin." He hated the way his skin prickled at the praise and gentle touches. His green eyes fluttered as soothing fingers laced in his hair. Ungloved fingers. Jack was elsewhere in the house for now, leaving him alone with the Hickory Killer. He was probably getting the shower ready. Gavin always liked to shower after these sick little games, washing away the shame if not the blood. His clothes weren't even dirty this time. He'd killed at a distance, far enough away to escape the resulting splatter. "Tell me how good it felt." Bile rose in his throat. How good it felt?

He'd never claim to have liked Detective Yates, not even a little. They'd never been on a first name basis in all the time they'd known each other, and he didn't care to be. The man had hounded him relentlessly for years. Since the day he'd been arrested with the gun in his hand, Yates had tried to send him down. He didn't believe in rehabilitation the way Fowler did. Even after he'd passed the academy training and proven himself, even after years of service and multiple promotions, commendations, and accolades, he didn't believe he'd changed. If he didn't turn up himself, he sent his lackeys to spy on him across the bullpen. There wasn't a day that went by in his first year that he hadn't felt eyes watching him. Jack had checked his locker with him every day, morning and night, to ensure nothing was planted. Even as a sergeant, Yates had looked at him like he was no better than the dirt on his shoe.

"It did feel good...I could see it on your face." A ball of ice knotted his chest. I-it didn't! "It's hardly surprising after what he put you through. It's what he deserved. Years of bullying and harassment, a constant thorn in your side, a catalyst for the deaths of hundreds. You did the world a favour, Gavin. There's no shame in that." It wasn't right to justify it like that! That's the sort of thing a vigilante killer might say, and maybe the masses would agree. It happened every time a paedophile got shanked in prison, or when a serial killer got shot by police. He got what he deserved! Whoever killed him is a hero! I would have done the same myself! Being able to justify it didn't make it right. The person being a shitty human being didn't justify it. Compared to many others, Yates wasn't even that bad. He was a dirty cop, but still only targeted those he thought were bad people. He was wrong though. Not all of us are bad..."The heat and intensity in your eyes when you fired was really quite...captivating."

Gavin would have pulled away if he could bring himself to move, but he was frozen to the spot. He hadn't moved an inch since he'd been guided into the kitchen and parked by the counter. His head still felt thick and cottony from the gunshot, though his ears weren't ringing anymore. He could still see it. The fearful snarl of Yates' lips, the bitterness in his steely eyes. He thought he was a piece of shit to the very last second. The world was probably a better place without him in it, but that didn't justify it. Despite that, the Hickory Killer's words got to him. I could see it on your face. What the hell had he looked like to give him that impression?

"Do you remember it, Gavin? The years of torment?" Of course he remembered. Shit like that didn't just disappear overnight! Even when Yates stopped following him around, it had taken months for him to stop looking over his shoulder. The first time he'd gone to his locker alone, his heart had all but jumped through his chest, blood pumping with adrenaline as he was plagued by all the what ifs. He'd almost felt silly afterwards. Knowing Yates as he did, Fowler probably would have looked into it if something had been planted in his locker. They could have drug tested him and found him clean. He had Jack and Tina to back him up. That didn't stop him from feeling nervous for weeks afterwards. Thinking about Yates used to make him feel so fucking small. Small and out of place, like he didn't belong there, like he was a pretender. "You won, Gavin." Won? Did murder count as winning?

"I didn't-" Gavin fell silent as a finger brushed his lips. He swallowed, heart racing as he stared into the Hickory Killer's greyish blue eyes. They were close enough that he could actually see them behind the mask. A hushing sound whispered between his lips, slightly muffled by the thick resin of his mask. The finger lingered, stroking his lips and pushing inside to tease his teeth. Gavin didn't even think before opening wider, letting it tease his tongue. A gasp slipped out as he was backed into the counter, leaning back on the breakfast bar with the Hickory Killer looming over him.