Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

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
- 39
- 40
- 41
Disclaimer: - I don�t own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.

Trespass Chapter 40

Waiting for the coffee to finish percolating Vic stared into the glass on the counter watching, apparently fascinated, as three dispersible aspirin fizzed and disintegrated in the water. As he watched, the little islands of white that had risen to the surface finally fell apart one by one and dissolved. Sitting back Vic reached up and scrubbed a weary hand over his face. He was tired, not because he hadn�t slept well, but because he�d awoken early and instead of going back to sleep he�d waited for the dawn. While it had still been dark he�d lain in the night just feeling. Feeling the rise and fall of Dutch�s chest under his arm. Feeling each beat of Dutch�s heart under his palm. Feeling every twitch of muscle, every soft sigh, every movement in each long limb. Then, with the dawn, came light, and he�d lain quietly, not moving, but staring at the back of Dutch�s neck. He�d watched the way his breath was just enough to slightly stir the hair on the back of Dutch�s head. He�d watched the play of sinew under the pale flesh when Dutch had moved his head slightly in his sleep. He�d studied the tiny hairs at the back of Dutch�s neck, the pattern of tiny freckles at the top of his spine, the red, shiny scar tissue at the point where Dutch�s left shoulder met his neck, the marks left by Tortora�s teeth that night. Vic had gazed at those incongruous little marks and, not for the first time, wished he could reach out with his fingers and wipe them away.
He was lost and he knew it. If there was one thing Vic Mackey was, it was a realist. A night spent curled in around Dutch keeping him warm, and safe, had merely confirmed for him in his mind what he already knew in his heart. What had once been an unacknowledged undertow of lust, had slowly changed into something deeper. It wasn�t all about sex and lust, but feelings and emotions, the stuff that made most hot-blooded males run screaming for the hills. Sex and lust, the kind of relationship he�d shared with Danny once, was a great way to scratch an itch, but ultimately Vic found it unsatisfying. Sometimes it wasn�t about the sex, sometimes it was about having someone to talk to, or not even. Sometimes just being able to share the same space with someone, no touching, no words, that was the most fulfilling thing in the world. He�d had that once with Corrine, before the pressures of work and kids and life, had pulled them apart. Shaking his head Vic thought bitterly, "before you pissed it all away you mean."

Putting his own feelings, his own wants aside though Vic knew something was gonna have to give. He�d stood by, trying to convince himself that letting Dutch work through his problems himself was the best thing to do. Well, the events of the previous night had shown what a spectacular failure that strategy was proving to be. Dutch hadn�t faced up to what had happened to them, he�d just buried it, and now it seemed that it wasn�t staying buried. The drunken aggression Dutch had shown towards him wasn�t just a result of Vic�s interference at work, he was sure. It had a much deeper, much darker, catalyst. This whole thing between them should�ve been gotten out in the open by now, instead of being left to fester like a sore. It was his fault, Vic thought with a pang of guilt. He�d wanted to take the easy route back when Dutch was still in hospital, and had let Dutch dictate how they communicated, or rather didn�t communicate, with each other concerning the rape.
Standing up, and strolling over towards the percolator, Vic decided it was time that he took the lead. All Dutch�s silence was doing was making him miserable, and making Vic feel trapped in a never ending cycle of anger and guilt. Enough was enough; it was time for them to talk.

*

Floating somewhere in between sleep and wakefulness Dutch was content to let himself drift. A still distant, but an increasingly insistent, throb of pain in his head convincing him that waking up might not be an entirely pleasant experience. Much better to stay where he was � warm, content, sleepy, but rested. Breathing deeply he burrowed his head a little deeper into his pillow, and reveled in the feeling that, for the first time in a long time, he�d actually slept well. A vague dreamlike impression of cold, of ice, had been replaced by warmth and peace, unlike the sweat-soaked, heart-stopping terror that usually followed his dreams.
The uncomfortable throb in his head seemed to increase in intensity and Dutch felt his relaxed haze beginning to fade. It was replaced by a very unpleasant taste in the back of his throat, and the sensation of his tongue being stuck to the roof of his mouth. Peeling his tongue free Dutch pulled a face, and smacked his lips several times, wishing that the sensation that the inside of his mouth was slightly furry would soon pass. The sudden flash of a half-empty whiskey bottle made him groan at his own stupidity, and then wince at the way the noise reverberated around his brain.
Wondering what time it was Dutch gingerly poked his head out from under the comforter. Carefully cracking open first one eye, and then the other, he was relieved to find that the accompanying stab of agony the light produced at the back of his eyeballs wasn�t too bad. However, the world was a little blurry, and he blinked several times to try and get his eyes to focus on his alarm clock.
Confused, he stared for several seconds unable to understand why, instead of his alarm clock, he was looking at a photo of three smiling children all sitting together on an unfamiliar couch. Recognition dawned on him when he remembered seeing those same smiling faces in his own kitchen one Friday evening a couple of weeks ago when he�d come home tired, and a little pissed off from a late, unhelpful, session with his Department shrink. Then the faces had been smeared with chocolate and ice cream, and Vic had explained that he�d stopped off to give them a treat before he took them home to their mom. Dutch could remember giving the kids a tight smile, and muttering some lame excuse about being tired, before escaping to his bedroom. He�d thought at the time that Vic had looked a little disappointed by his reaction, but he hadn�t been able to help himself, he just didn�t do well with kids. Children and animals, neither seemed to like him very much, maybe they could sense something about him, weren�t kids and animals supposed to be sensitive, instinctually seeking out "good" people. Seeing that kids tended to run away, and dogs� growl at him, maybe they knew something he was only just starting to wonder at about himself.
Chiding himself for letting himself wallow in self-pity, Dutch dragged his mind back to the present, and wished his brain didn�t feel so sluggish, and as though it was wrapped up in a thick layer of cotton wool.
Blinking at the photo, the conclusion that seeing it led too began forcing it�s way to the front of his mind. Slowly pulling the comforter down, away from his face, Dutch turned over onto his back and found himself looking around the guestroom, currently Vic�s room. Turning his head to the right the indentation in the pillow there confirmed the realisation that had just begun to form.
Flashes of memory flooded his mind. Feeling unhappy, drinking too much, and then shouting at Vic, wanting to piss him off, to make Vic hurt as much as he was hurting. Then a sensation of fear, of filth, the need to be clean. Warmth turning to cold, and not caring, slumping down too tired and dizzy to move. Then he could remember hearing a voice, Vic�s voice, sounding annoyed, but worried too. Then that wonderful feeling of warmth suffusing every atom of his body, feeling so relaxed, boneless. It had felt so good to be held, to be touched without instantly shying away from the contact. It had felt so good not to be alone.
A footstep outside the door, and then the door itself being pushed open, brought a halt to the whirl of confusion that threatened, for a moment, to overwhelm him. He found himself staring up at Vic as he entered the room carrying a glass and a mug. Dutch could hear the slight fizz of the dispersible aspirin, and smell the bitter warmth of the coffee he�d brought. Vic paused for a second, hesitating on the threshold, before straightening slightly, his expression hardening, and he walked forward putting the glass and the mug down next to the photo on his bedside cabinet.
"Thought you could probably use both of these right now." He said.
Pulling himself up, so that he sat up in the bed, Dutch tried not to wince as the movement set off a crescendo of hammers inside his skull.
"Um�yeah thanks." He murmured reaching out, and taking hold of the glass he sipped at it�s contents, his mouth welcoming the re-hydration it brought, while his stomach rolled slightly at the sickly sweetness of it.
Dutch kept his eyes firmly glued to the glass in his hand, all the while feeling Vic�s piercing gaze on him. Finally Vic broke the silence between them,
"I had to bring you in here last night to warm you up. I came home and found you passed out in the shower, freezing cold." His hitherto calm tone deserting him, as Vic continued. "You fucking idiot�I thought you were supposed to be smart Dutchboy. Instead you end up getting pissed and nearly freezing yourself to death�Thought you�d know better, wasn�t your ex a drunk?"
Dutch flinched back a little at his tone, but he knew Vic was right, he had been stupid, still the barb concerning Lucy stung.
"I�I�um�I�m sorry�about what I said to you last night�I didn�t mean it." Dutch fumbled for his words as he tried to apologise for his behaviour. Finally looking up at Vic, he said. "And I�m sorry you had to�do all that you did. I kinda remember some of it, and�well thanks."
Dutch felt himself flushing red, and dropped his eyes again, feeling like a bug under a microscope, under Vic�s impassive gaze. He squirmed slightly, and gulped down some more of the aspirin as he waited for some response from the other man. Vic eventually put him out of his misery,
"When you�ve finished, and you�ve cleaned yourself up, we need to talk Dutch."
Not waiting for an answer Vic turned and left the room. Dutch looked up at the now closed door feeling a sinking sensation in his stomach. He�d hoped never to have to have this conversation, but deep down he�d known it was inevitable. Now that the moment was here he felt a potent mixture of fear and relief. He also had the inescapable feeling that something fundamental in his life was about to change forever.
- 39
- 40
- 41
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Trespass