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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
- 34
- 35
- 36
Disclaimer: - I don�t own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.

Trespass Chapter 35
Pushing open the front door Vic automatically called out,
"It�s me!"
He wasn�t sure if Dutch needed the heads up that it was him entering the house, but he thought it best to give it anyway, and after three weeks it had become something of a habit now.
What was unusual was not to hear Dutch�s voice calling out, "Okay". Vic paused after he�d pushed the door shut behind himself, and called out again,
"Dutch�you here?"
He was sure Dutch didn�t have an appointment with his shrink today, and the doctor�s appointment was next week.
Frowning Vic walked to the kitchen, glancing to his left as he past the open doorway of the living room, his frown deepened when he found it empty. Once in the kitchen he looked at the calendar noting that, as he�d thought, there was nothing written down for today. He felt his worry increase, and briefly wondered if he should check the rest of the house � just in case. Just in case of what though he didn�t like to think about.
Almost instantly Vic dismissed the urge to search upstairs, chiding himself for being paranoid. So Dutch had gone out, so what. His time was his own, and surely it was a good thing if he was feeling well enough to go out. Vic started to wonder if his shrink was actually right. Was he over-compensating? Worrying about Dutch, about his state of mind when he didn�t have to. Was he trying to protect Dutch from non-existent problems because he needed a way to assuage his own feelings of guilt? Shit, maybe there was something to this psychoanalyst crap after all.
Vic started to make himself some coffee as he turned the problem over in his mind. Maybe it was just him. Afall all everyone else seemed really pleased with Dutch�s progress. Claudette had only remarked to him a couple of days ago how delighted she was that Dutch had bounced back so well, and how much she was looking forward to getting her partner back. Vic wished he knew what Dutch�s shrink thought, but of couthatthat was between Dutch, Dr Reyes and the Department. However, Dutch had told him last week that if all went well at the doctors that Reyes thought he�d be well enough to go back to The Barn for desk duty.
While waiting for the percolator Vic tried to reconcile this apparently well-adjusted Dutch to what his gut was telling him, and try as he might he couldn�t get the two to marry up.
Dutch was smart, Vic knew that. It was one of the things that had first sparked his interest in him, and while Vic wasn�t a great fan of psychological profiling and psychobabble in general, he knew Dutch was. Hell he�d watched Dutch use it time and time again against perps, like that asshole Sean Taylor. Letting them think they had the upper hand while all the time subtly manipulating them to get what he wanted. Admittedly, Dutch�s psychological approach had backfired occasionally, once, with the Kayla LeSeur case, with tragic results, but mostly he was right on target.
So here we have a smart guy with more than an amateur�s knowledge of psychologic tic thought to himself, but would Dutch be devious enough, desperate enough to use that knowledge to try and pull the wool over everyone�s eyes. Shit yes, Vic immediately answered himself.
Dutch might spin a tale to his shrink. He might smile and laugh with Claudette, but he wasn�t fooling him, and Vic didn�t give a rat�s ass wDr FDr Fulford, his Department shrink, said about over-compensating. Dutch wasn�t handling things half as well as everyone seemed to think he was.
If Dutch was so well adjusted, he wouldn�t be having nightmares nearly every night where he�d cry out so loudly he�d wake Vic up.
The first week it had happened Vic had stumbled out of bed at the first cry, almos aut auto-pilot, an instinct left over from his kids he supposed. Then by the time he�d made it halfway across the landing towards Dutch�s bedroom he�d have woken up enough to reconsider. Then he�d stand, a mass of indecision, listening to Dutch plead with his phantoms to leave him alone, not to touch him, or sometimes he�d just sob in his sleep. Once Vic had heard him call out "Vic, no", and he shuddered to think what that nightmare was about. Every time, as he�d stood and listened he�d eventually turned around and gone back to his room. He�d been unsure about Dutch�s reaction if he�d gone in and shaken him awake. For him to wake up and find a man standing over him again might completely freak him out, and that was a scenario that Vic just didn�t feel equipped to handle. Plus he hadn�t wanted to embarrass Dutch by letting him know that he knew about his dreams.
Now he didn�t even get up. He just lay in bed staring up at the ceiling listening to Dutch�s anguish, feeling like a coward. He�d listen when, sometimes, Dutch would stumble to the bathroom and be sick, or would take a shower even though it was the middle of the night.
Ofrse rse it didn�t help either, Vic thought bitterly, that he�d been experiencing some dreams of his own. Except while Dutch�s were terror filled, he was having dreams concerning Dutch that were becoming increasingly erotic, and were leaving him feeling guilty and aroused in equal measure. Not that Vic wasn�t also having nightmares of his own. Watching powerless while those bastards raped Dutch again, but this time he�d also have to watch as they killed him when they�d finished. Or he�d re-live slowly pushing the knife into Tortora. He�d watch it slowly sinking in inch by inch, blood welling up around the wound, only to look up and it wouldn�t be Tortora, it would be Dutch he was killing.
Turning to pour himself p ofp of coffee Vic sighed as he thought that maybe he should be as worried about himself aswas was Dutch. He knew he wasn�t exactly the poster-boy for good mental health himself right now.
He�d always had a tendency to be a little volatile, but since that night his temper was sometimes on a hair trigger. There�d been a couple of times when one of the guys had had to pull him off some smart-mouthed piece of shit before the injuries went past "resisting arrest". He�d even found himself snapping at the team a few times, and although they always assured him it was okay they understood when he later apologized, it didn�t make him feel any better about himself. He just hoped to God he didn�t lose it with his kids. It was that fear that ensured he no longer blew off any of his psychiatrist�s appointments. Whatever happened Vic was determined that the events of that night would never impinge on his kid�s lives, and while not a fan of shrinks in general it didn�t hurt and it kept Corrine happy.
He�d had to tell Corrine about what had happened. He hadn�t wanted too, but he knew she was still friends with a lot of cops wives, and the gossip was bound to get back to her. Watching the disbelief on her face change to pity and eventually barely masked disgust had been one of the hardest moments of his life. He still wasn�t sure if the disgust Corrine had felt had been because of the events of that night, or his part in them, he�d never asked and never intended to, afraid of what her answer might be. Of course she�d been sympathetic once she�d gotten over her shock, but she�d also been firm in her assertion that he had to get counseling to help him deal with what had happened. If not for himself then for the kids, she�d said.
Thank God the kids knew nothing. Matthew and Megan were both too young to understand anyway, and him and Corinne had both agreed that Cassidy was too young as well, and didn�t need to know. Fortunately the gossip had died down before any damage had been done.
Vic found his thoughts interrupted by the sound of the front door being unlocked, and although he�d tried not to worry about Dutch�s absence he still found himself relieved that he was back. Stepping forward to the kitchen door he called out,
"Hey."
He�d tried not to startle Dutch, but hadn�t managed it. At the sound of his voice Dutch had dropped his keys on the floor, and all the colour had drained from his face. Vic looked at the pale face, the wide, frightened eyes, the hand that trembled slightly as Dutch bent down to pick up his keys. Dutch took a little longer than he should to do that, and Vic knew he was using the time to compose himself. Sure enough when Dutch straightened up again that annoying half-smile was on his face, and his voice betrayed no emotion as he said,
"You startled me."
"Sorry," Vic replied. "Are you alright?"
"Fine." Dutch said, as the smile widened.
Vic pinned him with a look for a moment, watching as Dutch began to redden and squirm slightly under his scrutiny, before he turned back into the kitchen while calling over his shoulder,
"I�ve just made coffee, I�ll pour you a cup."
All the while thinking to himself, "over-compensating my ass."
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- 36
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Trespass