[Damn, this is slow going. Sorry...]
From the kitchen to the upstairs took Joe all of seven seconds. He heard the nasty laughter as soon as he'd rounded the corner and hit the stairs, and it led him right to the master bedroom.
He gave a strangled little cry as he stopped in the doorway. Chris was sprawled out on the floor next to the bed, his head against the nightstand. He looked dazed, his eyes a little unfocused. The lamp that stood on the nightstand was wobbling, throwing odd flashe
[Only one or two parts to go. Racing to the end now]
That sent a chill down Chris' spine and left a lump in his stomach. 'Hungry' was always bad with the violently insane. Not that he had a whole lot of experience with those. He was a detective in a small city police department. He had to deal with drugs and gangs and the occasional psychopath. As deep as he'd dived into the case, the state guys were right. He hadn't ever dealt with this stuff. Not that they had, but that was a problem for a
[Y'know, simultenaety isn't so much of a problem when you're writing first-person...]
Chris was swearing at himself the whole way home. He'd f**ked up, and he knew it. That meant it was time to break the news to Toby. He wasn't looking forward to that.
He parked his car and walked around the back of Steve's house. Steve's car wasn't in the driveway, which probably meant he hadn't gotten back yet. He felt a twinge of guilt for leaving Steve with the paperwork, but better Steve than him. H
It took Joe seven minutes to make the drive, and they were the longest seven minutes of his life. A half block away from Chris' house he threw his car in neutral, cut the engine, and coasted into Steve's driveway. It was probably pointless, but he didn't want any noise to give away his presence.
There was a car in Chris' driveway, a blue Jetta he didn't recognize. It had New Mexico plates, and seemed vaguely familiar.
Joe grabbed his keys and eased himself out of the car. He left the do
[This one's a bit more ragged than I'd like. The shouty bits don't hang together as well as I want 'em to. Damn this 'no sleep' thing anyway...]
Joe was trying to bring himself to eat dinner when his cell rang. He'd picked up Chinese on the way back to the hotel, but his stomach just wasn't up to it. The food sat, cloyingly sweet sauces congealing as it cooled. The suite was filled with the smell of overcooked pineapple and garlic.
The day had been pretty much a total loss
[Mmmm, remorse!]
Chris took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. He'd spent the whole day Friday either on the phone or digging into police databases. He hadn't anything to show for it but a headache and some vague offers for people to call him back. It wasn't enough
[This is longer than it actually seems, since there's a lot of missing non-dialogue. And Snuffles makes an appearance courtesy of very clever readers. Thanks guys!]
When Chris got back to the station he found the place in a buzz.
"What's going on?" he asked Steve.
Steve gave him a cold glare. Chris flinched, but not much. He'd been beating himself up the whole drive back to the station, and there wasn't much Steve could do to make him feel any worse.
"Yes, fine, I f**ked up," Chr
Thursday morning Chris was in a foul mood. He'd half-hoped that Joe would be at the house when he got home Wednesday. Maybe Joe would bitch him out the way he deserved, he could apologize, and they could work something out. The possibility of make-up sex occurred, though he wasn't sure he was ready for that, even if Joe hadn't been hurt.
Joe hadn't been there, of course. Toby had cheerfully let him know that he and Aunt Mary had dropped him off at his apartment, then asked when his new Daddy
[Kind of a transition chapter. And setup for the future. The guys have been nudging for a vacation. It feels like a good spot for a plateau, before we race into the finish]
Thursday morning Joe woke up and felt like hell. His left arm was stiff, his shoulder hurt like hell, and his whole body ached. The hotel bed had been fine as hotel beds went, but it wasn't his, and it wasn't Chris'. Not that he was going to end up in Chris' bed again. The closest he came was Snuffles. It wasn't the same.
Joe stood on the sidewalk of his apartment complex and waved at Toby as Mary pulled away. It hurt, watching them go. It was the last time he was going to see Toby. He had a lump in his throat he couldn't get rid of, and it was all he could do to keep from crying. It was better this way, though.
He'd been honest when he told Chris he wasn't going to hide. But Chris had been honest with him, too, at the hospital. He wasn't Joe's boyfriend. And that had hurt. It was a really shitty day when the
Steve was quiet the whole drive back to the station. That worried Chris. When Steve was quiet it was a sign he was thinking, and Chris really didn't want him thinking about Joe. That was something Chris himself was trying not to do, not that he was managing it.
He'd really f**ked up at the hospital. He knew that. Joe had needed him and he'd pulled away. Need might've been a strong word; Joe clearly could take care of himself. Chris was sure he didn't really need him. Still, he'd seen the hur
[Ah, you knew it was too good to be true]
"Well, I'm all done," Nurse Dave remarked as he gathered up his things. "Someone'll be along in a bit to take care of you."
"Thanks, Dave," Chris said absently. His fingers were stroking Joe's hand. He wasn't paying much attention. Steve was, and he caught the wry smile the nurse had.
"So what happened?" Steve asked. He'd pulled out a notebook and pen. "Why'd you get carved up?"
Something flared inside Chris. He was feeling suddenly very
[i keep feeling like I ought to have Chris have a harder time with all this. I dunno, it feels a little too easy]
"What's going on? Dammit Steve, where the hell are we going?"
"Hospital," Steve said. He was driving like a madman. The car's lights were on, and he was weaving in and out of traffic.
"Why ware we going to the hospital?"
"Busy driving here," Steve said as he cut off a green SUV.
Chris spent the next fifteen minutes worrying. There wasn't any point in pressing Stev
[Mmmm, banter. And some background, though I'm not sure if maybe it's too late in the book to be adding in background at this point]
Chris and Steve sat at the back of the scruffy conference room. There were two dozen people in it with them. Some of them were other detectives from the city, some of them were detectives from the state police, there were a couple of guys from the Attorney General's office, and some PR guy from the state. They always got one of those whenever something that mig
[i'm not sure whether I should have Joe have more stuff he pulls down. I do need to go back to the part where Steve stops by and make sure more of this is mentioned]
Joe pulled into his parking spot at his complex. He'd almost parked in the visitor's spot
[Ah... I got nothin']
"Yes," Joe said. It was a reflex, the word coming out before his brain was at all engaged.
"Don't I get a say in that?" Chris said from behind them. His voice was almost a growl. This was how things had gone with Megan. She'd always done what she'd wanted, and made sure he'd done it too. Whether he wanted to or not. He'd hated that, how insignificant it made him feel. How insignificant he'd let it make him feel.
Joe turned and gave Chris a smoldering look. "Alwa
[From the mouths of babes, and suchlike things]
Joe came downstairs, his hair still wet from the shower. Chris had gone first, as he needed to get ready for work. The smell of fresh-brewed coffee hit his nose as he walked into the kitchen.
Toby was sitting at the table. Chris was at the stove. Joe could hear sizzling.
"Breakfast?" Chris asked. There were two coffee cups on the counter next to him.
"Thanks. What is it?"
"Scrambled eggs and toast. You like them soft, right?"
[Less angst here than I expected. Chris is taking this all remarkably well]
Joe woke with the sun in his face and a warm body spooned up behind him. It was a nice way to wake up, and the erection pressed up behind him was nice too. They'd gone to sleep back to back, but at some point Chris had rolled over and wrapped himself around Joe. It was something he hoped he'd have a chance to get used to.
He shifted a little, so he could look at Chris. The motion made Chris stir, and his hand sli
[And we get all cuddly. Awww... ]
Joe yawned. He was surprisingly comfortable, sitting on the floor, his head on Chris' lap, with Chris stroking his hair. He probably could have stayed there all night. Chris needed to get up in the morning, though.
"Chris?"
"Mmm?" Chris had fallen into a daze. He was feeling secure in a way he hadn't really ever known. Everything just felt so right, in ways he'd only ever felt with Toby. This was different, but just as good. Better, really. He felt
Chris just watched Joe dumbly as he walked past him and into the living room. It was like he owned the place. That felt natural. It also annoyed him a little.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Sitting," Joe called back.
Chris moved to follow and found Joe in the recliner.
"What are you doing there?" Chris asked.
"If I sit on the couch, I'm going to be next to you," Joe answered. "If I'm next to you I'm going to touch you, which means I'm going to be kissing you, and from there
[The beginning of this harkens back to the missing chapter 45. Chris ran into his ex, and the guy she'd cuckolded him with, and caught enough of the last encounter between Joe and Alex to realize they'd split, just not the exact circumstances. Short section too -- seemed like a good place to stop, and I've not had a lot of time to write]
It was late, and Chris was lying on his couch wondering how things had managed to get where they were. He wasn't a bad guy. He was pretty sure of that. He w
[so much cliffhanger material, so few words to make it work. This is definitely going to need a good edit and rewrite. It's very rough, and didn't quite go where I had planned on it going (mostly, but not quite) but it's solid enough to work with. Later.]
The remainder of Monday had been miserable. Joe had tried drinking in his apartment, but that hadn't worked too well. He was feeling abandoned, and lonely, and drinking made that feel worse. It helped numb the pain some, but not enough.
[beware the bear, man!]
Joe drove home by reflex, his brain numb. He'd had the presence of mind to call in sick for the rest of the week. That was about all he could manage. He hadn't said why to Joan, but she knew. He could tell.
He just sat in his car when he got to his apartment. He should go in, maybe go lie down. Maybe go drink. Drinking had a certain appeal. It was safe enough, in his apartment. The monsters never came out when he did. He'd made sure of that. There were enough char
