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Trespass	By : kattanon Category: S through Z > The Shield Views: 2004 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Shield, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 28
- 29
- 30
Disclaimer: - I don�t own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.
Author�s Note: - I just wanted to say a big thank you to Anthea at this point. She has been a huge help to me whilst writing Trespass. Not only has she offered me fabulous feedback, but also constructive criticism, and marvelous suggestions, and whenever I have e-mailed her needing a sounding board for various ideas she has never failed to reply, and has sorted through my ramblings with infinite patience. It has been very remiss of me not to have thanked her before now, as it has for me not to have thanked several other people as well. Whipper, Susan, theraces, Mystic, Ann, Linda and Rumer thank you so much for not only continuing to read Trespass, but for mailing me to let me know what you think. It is muc much appreciated. Ok I'll shut up now and get on with the story :-).

passpass Chapter 29.
Vic sat in his car in the hospital car park and gazed at the building in front of him, a mosaic of concrete and glass. He knew he should get out of the car and go inside, but still he hesitated. His hands dropped from the steering wheel into his lap, and he tried to ignore the fact that they shook slightly. Leaning his head back against the headrest behind him he closed his eyes.
*

One arm twisted up, almost to breaking point, behind his back Vic marched Prescott down the hallway of the house, and into the living room where he could hear Shane and Lem�s voices. Pushing Prescott into the room Vic turned to face Tortora.
He was pushed back against a wall, both Shane and Lem�s weapons trained on him, and yet he was ignoring them, and was staring at Vic. There, on his face, was that same infuriating smirk as he�d had that night at Dutch�s house.
"Well, well tough guy, I wasn�t expecting to see you again." He drawled sounding amused. Then making a show of looking past Vic to the empty doorway behind him he said, "Aw, didn�t you bring our little fuck toy along with you? Now we�ve broken him in for you don�t you like to share him huh? And after we shared him with you too. Did you tell your friends here how much you enjoyed fucking his mouth? Almost as much as we enjoyed fucking his ass."
Vic moved forward with a snarl, and pulled his fist back, feeling a surge of satisfaction rush through him when he felt it impacting with otheother man�s flesh.

*
His eyes snapping open Vic took a deep breath, and he rubbed a hand down over his face as he fiy opy opened the car door, and got out. Looking down at his reddened knuckles he remembered how he�d wanted to keep on smashing his fist into Tra ura until he�d pulverized him. He�d wanted to keep on hitting him, and not stop. To pour out all his hatred through his fist, and transfer it into the other man, destroying him with it. However, that initial flare atisatisfaction he�d felt had rapidly burnt itself out, and Vic had been able to pull himself back, rein himself in, and remember the plan.
*

Tortora was left gasping, bent over, an arm clasped around his stomach, when Vic made himself stop, and step back from him. Prescott was looking from Vic to his cousin with frightened eyes, and Vic was glad. Glad that he was afraid, he deserved to be.
Vic turned towards him, remembering how much Prescott had wanted his "turn" that night. He remembered how he�d made sure Vic kept his eyes open so he had to watch Dutch�s suffering. He remembered how Prescott had raked his nails down Dutch�s back as he�d raped him, and how he�d whooped it up and laughed when he�d finished.
Taking a step towards Prescott Vic couldn�t help but curl his lip in contempt as he cringed away from him and whimpered,
"No�please don�t�It was Sam�it was his idea�I didn�t want to he made me�I swear."
"You lying bastard�" Vic said before he found himself interrupted by Tortora,
"Shut up Tom�I didn�t force you to do anything�and you loved it just as much as I did. For fuck sake stop sniveling. What do you think he�s gonna do huh?"
Vic turned back to Tortora, and found him smiling at him as he told Vic,
"You can�t do fuck all to us. You�re a cop. We read it in the paper." He nodded his head in the direction of some old newspapers piled up on a table in the corner, "You made page four, "Policeman injured during home invasion." He quoted, "You can�t do anything to us tough guy cause you�re cops. Man, it felt good though, knowing we�d gotten to fuck a cop. Oh, how is he by the way? Paper said he�d been taken to hospital�we weren�t too rough on him were we?"

*
Christ, Vic had been dreading this. He walked through the hospital doors, and tried not to think back to the last time he�d been here. He tried not to remember the gamut of emotions that had been rushing through him then.
Walking to the elevators he got in one and pressed the button for the fourth floor, thankful that he was alone. He stared dully at the red numbers as they lit up, and darkened again, counting off his ascent to the ICU.
This wasn�t how hs sus supposed to feel. He was supposed to be feeling vindicated, cleansed, instead he felt deflated and empty. True he�d rid himself of his rage, hisrst rst for revenge, but then he�d found himself hollow. Nothing had rushed in to fill the void inside him, and now it was as if that aching chasm was threatening to engulf him. Except that he knew it wouldn�t. It wouldn�t have time to do that, because there were a multitude of emotions waiting to fill that void within him. It was like an internal pressure was building, a dam about to burst, and when it did he knew it would release a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions, that he wasn�t sure he�d be able to handle. That realisation frightened him somewhat.
He had hoped that all those negative emotions would miraculously be gone. The guilt, the self-loathing, the disgust at what he�d forced on Dutch, the anger at himself for, what he perceived as, his own weakness, he�d hoped they�d all been excised. However, they�d merely been supsed,sed, and he could feel them waiting to overwhelm him.
As the elevator doors opened and he stepped out he heard Claudette call his name. He�d phoned her to tell her he was coming to the hospital, and to tell her he had some news. He turned to face her, and had to suppress the urge to turn away again as she searched his face, a slight frown forming at what she saw there.
"The nurses are in with Dutch at the moment, he needs his dressings changed, but they should be finished soon. We can talk in the visitors room." Claudette said, indicating a room off to the left of the admittance desk.
Once inside the empty room Vic flopped down into a chair with a sigh. Indicating the machine in the corner Claudette asked,
"Do you want a coffee or anything?"
"Nah, I�m good." He replied, sounding anything but.
The silence between them stretched on for several minutes until Claudette asked in a quiet voice,
"Is it over�is it done?"
*

Vic smiled back at Tortora, a cold, bitter smile. He ignored Tortora�s cruel words, determined not to let him bhim.him. Then he walked over to Prescott. As he stepped into his personal space, Prescott flinched, pressing himself back against the wall behind him. As Vic leant forward towards him a small whimper escaped his mouth, and he closed his eyes tightly shut. Vic slapped him hard across the face, and Prescott�s frightened eyes snapped open and stared at him.
"Yeah that�s right open your eyes asshole. You have to keep your eyes open, wouldn�t want you to miss anything now would we? Do you remember how you made sure I kept my eyes open huh? Do you remember how you made sure I had to watch, made sure I didn�t miss anything?"
Prescott�s face was devoid of any colour, his mouth hanging slackly open, but he didn�t speak, merely nodded dumbly at Vic�s questions.
"Good I�m glad. See I remember everything you said too�every fucking word." Vic told him.
He slowly tookouplouple of steps back, and reached behind himself, to the small of his back. Out of the corner of his eye, off to his left, he could see Shane fidget, an intense, focused look on his face as he nodded, and muttered just loud enough for Vic to hear,
"Oh yeah man�do it."
Vic�s fingers closed on the cold metal of the gun he had tucked into the waistband of his jeans. It was from his "emergency supply" of untraceable weapons that he kept hidden in the trunk of his car. It was the one he�d acquired to replace the gun he�d planted on Chaco Orozco to save Lem�s ass when Lem had shot Chaco mistakenly thinking he was armed. Pulling the weapon Vic pointed it at Prescott, who grimaced and made a noise half whimper, half groan, and pressed himself back against the wall as if he somehow thought he could force his way back through it and escape. A sharp tang made Vic wrinkle his nose, and glancing down he saw that Prescott had finally lost control of his bladder, the front of his trousers darkening with urine.
Vic felt nothing as he pointed the gun at the terrified man. He�d thought he�d feel excitement, satisfaction, but instead he just felt cold and empty. His voice quiet, level, never wavering he told Prescott,
"Yeah I remember every fucking word you said to me you sick prick. Remember what you told me? If I didn�t do what you wanted you were gonna make me watch while you killed him. Remember the words you used "blow his face off, splatter his brains all ovhe whe wall"? Well guess what? Payback�s a bitch asshole."
Vic didn�t hesitate as he squeezed the trigger, and turned Prescott�s words against him.
Tom Prescott�s brains did splatter all over the wall behind him. Blood fanning out so far up the wall it almost reached the ceiling. Little gleaming white fragments of skull were stuck to the wall by blood or the tattered pieces of scalp they adhered to.
Shane wordlessly stepped forward, and took the gun from Vic, and began to carefully clean off any fingerprints that might be on it. Meanwhile, Vic turned towards Tortora.
He wasn�t smiling now. In fact, he just stared, open-mouthed, at the body of his cousin. Finally, finding his voice, he snapped his head around to face Vic,
"Oh fuck�oh fuck�Jesus what have you done? You�you can�t do that�you�re a cop. Christ man you�re a cop�"
Stepping up to him, his left hand going around Tortora�s th, pu, pushing his head back into the wall, Vic got so close to him he could feel the other man�s panting breath on his face,
"Shut the fuck up you piece of shit. Did you think I was gonna arrest you huh? Lock you up in a nice warm cell. Then make my friend have tandtand up in a courtroom, and describe what you did to him. Is that what you thought? Well surprise�you�re fucking wrong. See he isn�t gonna have to go through that, he isn�t gonna have to look at you again, or fucking think about you, cause you�re gonna be dead."
At that Tortora struggled briefly, but soon stopped when Vic squeezed harder on his throat. Vic continued,
"See it�s gonna go down like this. You two pricks have some kinda falling out, don�t know what about, and don�t care. Anyway your cousin there pulls a knife on you."
Here Ronnie stepped forward, and handed Vic a carving knife that he�d fetched from the kitchen. Turning to look at it Vic then turned back, and smiled at Tort and and said,
"Ah just like this one�Now where was I? Oh yeah�he pulls a knife and stabs you with it."
Vic felt the knife sinking into Tortora�s stomach, slicing through flesh and muscle. Leaning all his weight against it Vic felt it sink into him up to the handle. He watched Tortora�s face, his eyes just an inch from his own, as the blade sank inexorably deeper. Tortora�s eyes widened with surprise, and pain, the only noise coming from his throat a gurgling sound. His hands briefly closed around Vic�s hand where it held the knife, but he was already weakening, and after several ineffectual attempts to pull Vic�s hand away they fell back to his sides.
Supporting more and mof Tof Tortora�s weight with the hand around his throat, and the knife buried in his gut, Vic finished telling him the scenario of his death,
"A knife in the guts, really fucking painful and slow. So you grab a gun, which will have your fingerprints ove over it, and blow him away "splatter his brains all over the wall"." Then leaning in so close that he was whispering in the dying man�s ear Vic told him,
"I promised you I was gonna find you, and kill you, and I always keep my promises you sick bastard."
Then releasing Tortora Vic stepped back and watched dispassionately as he slid down the wall and bled to death.

*
Vic didn�t tell Claudette the details; she didn�t need to know. However, he did say,
"We left a photo of Dutch there. It was a picture of him on uniform, hcadecademy graduation portrait; I took it from his living room. We can say they must have taken it as a souvenir before they left the house. It�ll tie them to the crime, and the fingerprints and DNA will do the rest."
Claudette nodded and asked,
"It was definitely them?"
"Oh yeah." Vic grimly confirmed, "Don�t worry it was them."
"Good," Claudette said firmly, before adding, "You can never tell him Vic. You can never tell him what you did�what I agreed to you doing. Dutch wouldn�t understand�he isn�t�well he just wouldn�t understand."
"Don�t worry I wasn�t planning on telling him anyway. He doesn�t need to know, and besides he�s gonna have enough to deal with." Not wanting to talk about the previous night, or even think about it, Vic changed the subject, "How is he?"
Claudette sighed and finally also sat down,
"He�s doing a lot better. They took him off the ventilator yesterday, and he�s breathing well on his own. The pressure in his skull has come down to normal, and all his blood tests came back negative."
Vic released a breath at that news, the spectre of HIV, which had lurked unacknowledged at the back of his mind, was finally banished,
"Thank God for that at least." He muttered.
Claudette nodded her agreement, before continuing,
"He does have a slight fever. He�s got an infection from one of the ah�the bites."
She grimaced as she spoke those last words.
"Bastards." Vic ground out, before asking her, "Is he awake?"
"Sometimes. They�ve stepped down his sedation a bit, but he�s still on a lot of pain medication, thatthat seems to keep him mostly asleep. When he does wake up it�s not for very long, and he�s usually pretty out of it, confused. Half the time I�m not sure he�s got any idea where he is, or what�s going on."
Before Vic could reply the door opened, and a nurse that Vic recognised as Inez, looked around the door and smiled at Claudette,
"We�re all done Claudette if you want to go in and sit with Dutch for a while." Then looking at Vic her smile widened as she said, "Oh hi�um Detective Mackey right?" At Vic�s nod she continued, "Good to see you back. Are you going in to see Dutch as well?"
"Yeah�yeah I am." Vic replied standing up.
This was a moment Vic had been dreading, and he found that despite his hopes the events of the previous night weren�t making it any easier.
- 28
- 29
- 30
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Trespass