Getting Away with Murder

      She felt the bit of pressure on her hand as he leaned into it, and it surprised her. He was drunk, though. And dealing with an amount of pain that she couldn’t particularly imagine.

      He practically enveloped her in the hug. She felt like she was disappearing into it. Come to think of it, she’d never hugged the man - it hadn’t been part of the routine. And when he hugged her, she hugged him back, unable to resist the affection and opportunity to make him feel better than he was - crying, trembling in her arms, little huffs in her neck as he tried to control the breathing through the silent sobs.

     “It’s–…” She started, but stopped, considering her words carefully. God - she didn’t want to make it worse.

     “You can stay here as long as you need,” she said as an arm reached up just slightly to run her fingers through the hair at the back of his head. “You’re not being a burden to me.”

He didn’t expect her to reciprocate the hug like that. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what he’d expected upon calling her at all. But it wasn’t this. This, however, was just what he needed.

As she spoke, Sy slowly sank to his knees, pulling her down along with him so that she ended up straddling him. He’d managed to stop crying, left taking some shuddering breaths as he gradually calmed down.

“Thank ya, Kori.” And he was truly grateful for the invitation. He’d been lacking companionship of any real kind. It was an odd notion though, that it was going to be with her.

       She’d find the person that tipped them off. And she’d have them in her interrogation room until they were near death.

       While his descent into her hospital bed wasn’t welcome at first, she soon realised how familiar that feeling felt - of her back to his chest, the warmth of what was no longer a stranger. She didn’t do, say, or react to much of anything for a good few minutes. His thumb ran over a bandaged hand, even, but she didn’t flinch.         She could only pray that no one from the agency would walk in and see the sentiment in their eyes.

        And then he spoke.

        Her blood ran cold at the mention of his planned suicide. Face paled impossibly further, heart jolting at the mention of it. She’d never been closely related to anyone struggling with thoughts of suicide, so she wasn’t entirely sure how to handle it.

       “…You can’t expect to tell me something like that and for me not to be upset.”

He knew how much Kor valued her standing within the agency. And finding them in such an intimate position would raise eyebrows and questions and quite possibly affect their working relationships. At the moment though, Silas didn’t care. It was the first time in a very long time that he felt a real sense of comfort like this.

With Kori of all people. A few years ago he never would have even imagined things would ever come close to winding up like this.

He was, however, grateful for it now.

He regretted his omission as soon as he’d spoken. But he couldn’t take it back now. It filled the air and only added to the tension that had already enveloped them.

He looked around, wondering what he should do. This case piqued his interested in a way it shouldn’t. He wanted to know more, but he also wanted to leave it to Silas. Thomas figured since Silas had let him in this far, he wouldn’t mind him sitting in the surveillance room with Dane. 

“… I’ll sit with Dane. Good luck in there.” Thomas stood back when Silas went to the room where the meeting was. From his angle he was able to see the man with the handcuff around his wrist and the other end attached to the table. Blood boiled inside Thomas, anger spiked and he glared at him. “Fucking bastard.” 

“Silas, how wonderful to see you!” The man beamed. Silas’ mouth twitched but he remained stoic, impassive. “Oh, don’t be like that.” The man chided, folding his hands together atop the table he was cuffed to. “You miss the thrill of the hunt. We’re not that different, you and I. We’re each predators trying to outsmart our prey.”

“I’m not ‘ere for games, Thompson. What ‘ave ya got to tell me about me wife?” The Irishman sneered.

“Aren’t you though?” He looked quite pleased with himself, smug as ever. Silas gritted his teeth. “What would be in it for me if I don’t have a little fun? I’ve so missed our games.”

“I don’t need this. Y’know what? Ye can rot wit’ yer secrets an’ games. I’m done.” Sy spat and stood to leave.

“She knew who I was right away.” That stopped the Irishman in his tracks, back to Brier Thorn, but he knew the man was grinning. “She didn’t scream or beg for her life. She seemed to just...accept it. Which, I admit, was a bit disappointing for me. Beautiful young woman, she was. Beautiful little boy as well, Patrick.”

Silas clenched his fists at his sides until his knuckles turned white. He slowly, and forcibly, turned around to listen.

“Marley was in the master bath - that’s where it all started. It was 7:15 on the dot. She was feisty, put up quite a fight - as I’m sure you imagined, what with all the blood. I’d locked your boy in his room ahead of time. He was clutching that wolf blanket of his. Smart boy too. He managed to get past me at first. You know...that tool shed of yours came in quite handy.”

And suddenly, something dawned on the Irishman. Had he been watching them? “Oh yes. It was cold but it provided excellent shelter. You hadn’t gone in it in months.” He’d made it so easy on the man, so focused on hunting information they were missing that he didn’t even think to look close to home.

His eyed widened and without warning, Silas lunged, throwing his torso across the table, hands wrapping around Thompson’s throat. The guard scrambled to unlock the door and get in. Dane leapt into action as well, it took the both of them to pry the Irishman from the man, who’d been laughing in spite of being choked.

“Two places, Silas.” Thompson coughed and spurted, still chuckling as they struggled to drag Silas from the room.

“I should’ve killed ya!” Sy growled, fighting the grips of the two men.

      The more he spoke, the more she was very clearly trying to hold back tears. But she looked angry. She looked irate in her frozen expression - jaw tight and hands opening and closing under her too-thin white blanket.

      “I remember you speaking,” she said. She couldn’t remember getting shot or laying there. All of the sudden, she was on the ground. And feeling the blood drain from your neck was not a feeling she wished on anyone. “And one of the men picked me up, but he heard you coming and decided to kill me there. Said something in my ear.” 

      She sounded horrified. She’d never forget that raspy voice, even if she hadn’t been able to see him at the time. Thick-accented, malicious. But she didn’t tell Silas what the man said to her. It still burned her raw.

     “I remember everything you said while you were trying to keep me awake.”

     Her eyes closed. Maybe she didn’t want to see Silas looking at her expression.

    “I’ll murder them myself if it comes to it.”

Then she spoke and he remained quiet, head bowed slightly, looking at her much like a puppy. He had a talent for that sad look. Marley had always said it was a weakness of hers, and he took advantage. 

He’d paid particular attention to the detail of the man having said something to her, but he wasn’t going to press her on what it was. Not yet. Not now.

All the Irishman wanted to do was slip into that narrow hospital bed along with her and hold her. The way her voice sounded, the expression on her face. It broke Sy’s heart. And knowing she’d heard him. Every word. He was afraid. He was afraid of losing her. But he was afraid of being implicated by her as well.

Silas didn’t react at first. He mulled over what she’d said. Once more, the Irishman reached out and covered her hand, tracing his thumb along the back of it. 

“Ye saved me, y’know. When I was in London a year ago. I was ready to shoot meself, but I called ya that night outta nowhere… An’ even after I left, I jus’ couldn’t bring meself to do it. I suppose there was still more to live for.”

“I’ll go in. Probably not in the same room as you, I’d feel a bit out of place there. But I’ll be here as much as possible.” Thomas smoothed his shirt of any wrinkles to look somewhat professional. It was no suit and tie like Dane but he did his best. The man kind of intimidated him. 

He needed it. And yet, he was terrified of what he was going to find.

The Irishman nodded and brushed his fingers against the other man’s, giving him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Thomas. For bein’ here at all.” He really did appreciate it. However new this was, whatever it was with the other man, somehow he just helped take some of the burden from Sy. It wasn’t just the distraction, it was his kindness and support. He could’ve turned tail and run. Silas wouldn’t have blamed him. He still wouldn’t.

Everything was very robotic going through the security measures inside. For Sy, it was automatic, like riding a bike. He’d done this many times before for various cases and reasons. In the waiting area, the Irishman turned to the younger man, chewing his lip as he thought a moment. “Ye can stay ‘ere, or ye can observe on the monitor wit’ Dane. Wouldn’t blame ya for bein’ curious.” It was natural, the want to see and know. There was something about seeing and hearing a man who had made a life of brutally murdering people that stirred a deep and morbid curiosity and fascination. Like observing animals in a zoo or specimens in a lab experiment.

      She realised that she hadn’t even considered the true gravity of the situation. Of all the things his sadness could have been from, this was the last thing she expected.        God - and she’d helped him cheat on his wife. She’d actively been part of whatever relationship troubles they might have been having. She couldn’t handle the thought of possibly being the cause.       Though he wouldn’t have called her if she was.

      The news had an effect on her, clearly, because she froze and snubbed out her cigarette. When she stood, it was gentle and slow, as if the smallest movement would break him, adding onto the emotion he was feeling. She’d never truly seen a grown man cry like that. She wasn’t sure what to do, what to say. Her heart ached for him.

     “Silas…” she said quietly. Slowly. A hand went to his shoulder and she rubbed her thumb there. She wouldn’t say she was sorry - because that wasn’t fair. “I had no idea.”  

     And she knew very well that he had no one else to call. 

    “What do you need?”

Sy’s eyes were on the blonde, shimmering with tears and emotion he was fighting to contain as she gazed at him the way everyone else had upon hearing the news. Her movements were slow, careful, as if he were some wild and unpredictable animal that could strike or flee at any given time.

In all fairness, his fight or flight instinct was what he’d been primarily acting on since it happened. Making him that much more unpredictable, that much more difficult to handle.

The Irishman leaned into the gentle touch, despite himself. He wasn’t sure how to answer her. He didn’t know what he needed. 

Slowly he stepped forward, body imperceptibly trembling until he finally wrapped his arms around her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, silent tears falling then. He just needed comfort. Needed to know it was going to be okay, that he’d be okay again. Even if it turned out to be a lie.

 “Well, I mean it’s been the same for me. Working here, day to day and that’s about it. I did move into a nicer apartment though - so I suppose that’s the newest update of my life.” She chuckled a bit. The tension between them was one similar to that of an awkward first date. 

“I went to visit my parents in New Orleans for the holidays. Which was practically a train wreck.” She laughed a bit. “My mom thinks I work too much.” 

Sy nodded along as she spoke. His plan had always been to remain in New York and continue his consulting career, raising Patrick on Long Island. Maybe have another baby with Marley. They’d talked about it some. Now, he wasn’t sure what his plan was. The Irishman was back, employed, but he still felt like he was starting all over again.

“Isn’t it always wit’ family?” He gave her a bit of a teasing grin and chuckled lightly, tension still in the air but neither seemed to want to acknowledge it. Silas had reached out to Marley’s folks, with a letter. But they never responded. He didn’t blame them. He was supposed to take care of their daughter. “Ye always did work long hours,” he stated, recalling that most of their sessions had been in the evening.

Neither had much to say to fill the space, it seemed. They’d barely even covered the last few years. Sy chewed his lip awkwardly.