Authors Notes: - I've wanted to write something like this for a while and since I didn't update anything for some time I figured I should get on the ball and write a whole hoop :)
Oh and the title… it's a Cowboy Bebop song. I couldn't think of a title. SO... yeah…
Want it all back
"God this coffee tastes like crap." Sergeant O'Neil complained, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
His partner glanced over at him and rolled his eyes. "You say that every time we go there but when ever I suggest somewhere else you don't want to go."
"It's one of the few drive through coffee places open this late at night." O'Neil explained, sipping slowly at his coffee, despite his previous assertion.
"But there are other places." Sergeant Reynard pointed out.
"Yeah, way the fuck away from here." He sighed and put his coffee into the cup holder. "At least they make the best Danishes in town."
"True and the coffee is far less offensive after a few bites." Reynard chuckled.
"That's one of the main reasons I bother to come back. Now if only they'd improve their fucking coffee." O'Neil grumbled, taking a huge bite out of his cheese Danish.
"My son makes better coffee for me when he makes me breakfast." Reynard said playfully. "I love that kid but he's yet to figure out how to work the coffee machine and his mom doesn't want to help him. She says he has to learn the hard way. It's just a fucking coffee maker!"
"My wife had a lot of strange notions like that when the kids were younger. After the fourth one she stopped all that nonsense." O'Neil said thoughtfully with a mouthful of pastry.
"Four kids… I don't know how you managed to stay sane." Reynard muttered in awe taking a long swig of his coffee and flinching in pain and disgust. "God that stuff is awful."
"Who ever said I'm still sane?" O'Neil laughed. He started to choke on his Danish and his partner quickly pounded him on the back.
"Slow down there. We got a full night ahead of us and it's not like we're in a rush to get anything done." Reynard advised him gently.
After a few more coughs O'Neil nodded in agreement. "True, tonight has been damned slow."
"Considering our line of work, isn't that a good thing?" His partner smirked.
"Still, it's nice to know I've done something good before I head home." O'Neil sighed and sat aside his half eaten Danish.
"You can't save the world every night George." Reynard said dryly.
"I can at least try." O'Neil shrugged.
"I admire you're stubbornness. I have up on thinking of myself as a hero not even two months on the job." Reynard shook his head and looked out of the side of his patrol car. It was a very quiet night. Only a few people wandered around the streets and even then they hurried to their destination. It was bitterly cold, colder than usual for early March. It felt like winter wasn't ready to let go just yet and was using all its energy on one last cold snap.
Suddenly the silence of their car was broken by a crackling voice pouring over the radio. O'Neil quickly snatched up the receiver and spoke into it.
"What was that Susan?" He said into it.
"We've got a report of a possible assault in your vicinity. Could you check it out?" Susan's garbled voice explained.
"Alright, where is it?"
She gave them the address and Reynard made a note of it. O'Neil started up the patrol car and quickly drove down the street and turned right at the first light. They were close to the scene, only a few blocks away. O'Neil pulled the car to a stop beside the alley that the person who had made the call said it had taken place. Reynard got out of the car first and removed his gun from its holster. He also took out a flashlight and moved towards the opening of the alley.
O'Neil wordlessly came up behind him and also took out his gun and flashlight. He placed the light over his gun and slowly crept into the dark space between the two squat brick buildings. Reynard kept close to the wall and ducked behind a massive garbage bin then peered around it. Ahead of them the alley split and went in two different directions. Either path led behind the two buildings around them. They both heard a shuffling sound at the same time.
Reynard glanced back at O'Neil questioningly. His partner nodded to him and walked past him warily. He didn't hesitate in letting his older and more experienced partner take the lead. O'Neil arrived at the break in the alley and first peered down it to the right, directly down the space behind the building he was pressed against. It was a dead-end and there was no one in sight, or anywhere for someone to hide. He slowly turned his head and looked up the other side of the alley.
Immediately he saw the clear outline of a tall man kneeling over someone. O'Neil couldn't make out what he was doing in the dark but the person lying in front of the man wasn't moving and they were lying in a pool of what looked like blood. He brought up his gun and turned on his flashlight.
"Freeze!" He shouted.
The man twisted around and stared at O'Neil with wide terrified eyes. O'Neil moved forward carefully, keeping his gun trained on the man. As he came closer he got a better view of him. It was a young man. He couldn't be much older than twenty one, if he was that old. The young man was skinny and starved looking with a gaunt lean face that matched his rail thin body. His clothes were tattered and well warn but also stained with blood, fresh blood.
"Let me see your hands, now!" O'Neil ordered, still moving towards him.
Reynard came up behind him; keeping his eyes out for any accomplices as well as watching to make sure the kid didn't try anything stupid. Quiet the opposite the young man slowly lifted his hands, his palms out and fingers splayed. He slowly lifted them over his head then moved them down, to the top of his head. The blood on his hands trickled onto his long bright blue hair.
"She needs an ambulance." The young man said in a soft insistent voice.
"No shit. Now stand up and face the wall." O'Neil snapped.
The young man slowly came to his feet in a smooth easy motion. He pivoted and faced the wall to his left. With out being asked he stepped towards it and put his hands on the wall. O'Neil was tempted to start shouting conflicting orders at him, just out of spite. He hated when he made an arrest and the person knew what to do before they were told. It just made him doubt the justice system all the more.
"Make the call Reynard." O'Neil said to his partner as he came towards the young man.
Reynard picked up his portable radio and quickly called for backup and an ambulance. Once he had done that he came towards the small group and knelt beside the prone figure. O'Neil put away his flashlight and pulled out his handcuffs. Snapping them onto the young man's narrow wrists he started reading him his right. The young man docilely allowed his arms to be moved and remained quiet the whole time. Once he was cuffed O'Neil put away his gun and pulled the kid away from the body.
"Is she alive?" He asked his partner.
"Yeah, she's still breathing and I got a pulse, it's weak though." Reynard said grimly. "And it looks like she was rapped."
O'Neil looked towards the pool of light cast from Reynard's flashlight and flinched. It wasn't the first rape victim he'd seen but it wasn't any easier than the first time. Her skirt was ripped up to the waist band and her stalkings were cut open from the inner edge of both her thighs to over her groin. Blood was splattered over her legs and clung to her stalkings. Her underwear was no where in sight, leaving her exposed and vulnerable.
"Cover her up." O'Neil said, looking away.
"You can use my jacket." The young man offered.
"Shut the fuck up!" He shouted, punching the kid in the back of the head.
He swayed forward but quickly righted himself, not uttering a single sound. O'Neil forced him against the wall, hard and pulled his cuffed hands up, twisting his arms painfully. He'd never pulled a move like that and not had the perp cry out in pain. This one didn't utter a single sound and moved with it. His shoulders strained but stretched amazingly far. O'Neil guessed that he must be double jointed.
Reynard removed his coat and placed it over the woman's hips. He searched her over for any sign of injury but only saw bruises and scratches. There was a copious amount of blood around her but he couldn't fine where it was coming from. He didn't want to move her; for fear that she had a spinal injury and simply suspected that it must be on her back. Reynard leaned over the young woman and brushed the hair back from her face.
"It's ok, you're safe now." He said softly to her, even though he doubted she could hear him.
She was a small woman, only a few inches over five feet. Despite her diminutive frame she was surprisingly large, with good sized hips and shoulders. She carried her weight though and looked like she was very athletic. Her skin was lightly tanned but not bronzed and complimented her short dark brown hair well. The makeup she had worn that night was smeared. Her lipstick had been rubbed nearly off and what remained pushed onto her left cheek. Mascara was covered her eyes and trailed down both her cheeks. It looked like she had been crying black tears.
Distantly the sound of sirens quickly grew louder. O'Neil started to drag the cuffed man to the street so that he could direct the ambulance workers when they arrived and to place the perp into his cruiser. Just as he stepped onto the sidewalk the ambulance came to a screeching halt before his car. White clad EMTs jumped out of the van and rushed towards the alley.
"She's down that alley and to the left!" O'Neil shouted after them.
They didn't respond but he knew they heard him. O'Neil opened the back door to his car and pushed the young man into it. "I can't wait to get you to the station."
The young man sat down and looked up at O'Neil with bright innocent blue eyes. "I was trying to help her."
"Right." O'Neil sneered, slamming the door shut.
* * *