Undertow | By : kattanon Category: S through Z > The Shield Views: 1350 -:- 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. |
Title: - Do You Long To Confess
Author: - Katt
E-mail: - kattanon@yahoo.co.uk
Rating: - R
Series: - Undertow Part 6a/?
Feedback: - Like it or loathe it let me know
Archive: - Archived at the Shield Fanfiction Archive
Disclaimers: - I don’t own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX. The song "Put Your Arms Around Me" is performed by "Texas", and written by Sharleen Spiteri, Johnny McElhone, Hodgens and Dave Stewart.
Do You Long To Confess – "Cherrypoppers"
"Are you ready maybe, are you willing to run?
Are you ready to let yourself drown?
Are you holding your breath?
Are you ready or not?
Are you ready maybe, do you long to confess?
Do you feel that you’re already numb?
Are you sure of yourself?
Would you lie if you’re not?
You tire me out, don’t want to let that happen
A secret scream so loud, why did you let that happen?"
Sitting on the cold concrete of Danny’s doorstep Dutch stared down at his feet waiting for her to get home so he could grovel, and ask for her forgiveness. It was a pity he couldn’t beg for Sally’s forgiveness too. He’d failed her, hadn’t found the animal that’d hurt her so badly. Who’d used her, killed her, and then thrown her away like she was a piece of rubbish. His mind took him back to the park. Flashes of harsh, white light, from the scene’s of crime photographer’s camera, kept illuminating her little broken body for the edification of the ghoulish onlookers, who craned their necks to get a good look at the tableaux of tragedy being enacted behind the yellow police tape. Now she lay cold, and alone, on a slab in the morgue. Her body violated by those sick perverts who got off on destroying innocence, then she’d been used to satisfy some inadequate monster’s fantasy of power and death, and finally her body had been picked over, and cut up, on a cold metal table.
She was there because of him. Yet another failure. If he’d worked harder, if he’d been more persuasive when he’d gone to Aceveda and tried to convince him that there was a serial killer on the loose, maybe Sally would still be alive.
The cooling night air made him shiver, and Dutch clamped down on the morbid turn his thoughts were taking. He’d found the whole case deeply unsettling, and it had stirred up long suppressed memories and emotions. Dark things from the past that were better left buried.
He needed to make things right with Danny, and then sort his head out. What was it that Special Agent Ryde had told him?
"It doesn’t hurt it you don’t let it."
Well, too late for that, the pain of it burrowed under his skin, and he knew it would fester there until he’d caught the killer. He just needed to make sure that he didn’t unravel, speak about things that were better left as secrets.
"So put your arms around me
You let me believe that you were someone else
Cause only time can take you
So let me believe that I am someone else
Maybe are you ready to break
Do you think that I push you too far?
Would you open yourself?
Are you reckless or not?
You tire me out, don’t want to let that happen
A secret scream so loud, why did you let that happen?"
Other secrets had nearly stumbled into the light today, and the thought that maybe he wasn’t the only one who harboured secret desires made him shiver again, and this time it had nothing to do with the falling temperature.
There had been a weird tension between him and Vic right from the out-set. An aggression that had made them confrontational, getting into each other’s personal space, neither wanting to back down, give in to the other. Vic’s eyes had bored into his, the intensity of his stare daring Dutch to push back. It had seemed to Dutch that the air between them had crackled with electricity. He’d been relieved when Vic had walked away during their confrontation outside the cage, when Vic had brought in Mrs. Park. The strange, unsettling feelings rising up within him had made his hands itch to reach out and grab Vic, shove him up against the wall and…
Then the whole tone of the suppressed tension between them had shifted. After seeing that film, seeing the violation of a child, Dutch had felt devastated, numb. Vic could’ve walked away. From the way they’d been interacting that day he should’ve, but he didn’t. He’d stood next to him, not quite, but almost touching him, close enough that Dutch thought he could feel his heat. Vic had asked if he was okay, he’d listened to him, and had promised to get the asshole that’d made the film. Vic had smiled at him then, reassuring him. There’d been a promise behind that slight twist of his lips – of what, Dutch hadn’t been sure.
Again Vic had been there for him. Stopping him from smashing that prick Tom Ross in the face. Vic’s hand resting on his chest grounding him, bringing him back from the brink, and helping the red mist to lift from his eyes.
Then, finally, reaching out for him when Dutch had felt his world crumbling around him. Vic had stood with him, hadn’t let him turn away, walk away, hadn’t let him blame himself,
"Hey Dutch, you showed me something today."
"What do you mean? I failed."
"Ah, no. No, no you didn’t. We took down some bad guys, doing some bad stuff."
"You did that, not me."
"We both did it. We’ll get your guy too. It just won’t be today."
There had been something in Vic’s eyes. Something that had made Dutch want to reach out for the other man. Something that made him believe that if he did Vic wouldn’t spurn him, but would hold him, as fiercely as Dutch wanted to hold on to Vic, and not let go.
Footsteps approaching snapped Dutch out of his reverie, and his apology began.
"What I said to you was inexcusable…"
"So put your arms around me
So put your arms around me
Make me believe
Take me, take me somewhere, away
Let me believe
Cause only time can take you
So stop."
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