Fake Fan Fiction ❯ Chosen One ❯ Chapter 2:Just a yearly thing, Ryo ( Chapter 2 )

A/N: Thanks so much to XZanayu and Ita-chan for reviewing! *giggle* I love praises. . . btw, I also have another fic up here. It's called "Come To Me" and it's a Yami no Matsuei fic. So if you like YnM, give it a try! Ne?

Warning: Dee-Torture! Berkley-Feeling-a-bit-guilty-&-pissed-at-Dee-Torture!

Disclaimer: Per usual!

Dee was pretty damn sure that the files were written in English. After all, isn't that the major language used in all police correspondence and files? Yeah, the last time he checked, it was still English and he was sure as hell that he COULD read and speak English. . . .

So why the hell is the papers in front of him don't make any sense at all?

He squinted grey eyes even narrower and tried to make sense of it all. Instead, the words just got even more blurry and started to swim around in very interesting patterns. Almost bemused, he started to follow those lazily drifting words. . . . with a snap, he caught himself from falling face first into his desk and with a groan, shoved the file away from him.

"I know, it's looking pretty hopeless isn't it?" came Ryo's comment from his side.

The two of them were at the precinct at Dee's desk, which was buried under a massive pile of papers. A week had passed since the cult murders but still they haven't gotten a single piece of clue. What they have instead were just meagre bits of information of the dead kids. It doesn't help that all of them were orphans.

And the most frustrating part was, all of them, every single one, were new kids in the orphanage they've been abducted from. It's bad enough that they were kids dumped by their anonymous parents, nobody at the various orphanages could give any information concerning them except their given names, either by their asshole parents or the orphanage supervisors.

Dee and Ryo had ran themselves ragged the past week, interviewing employees, volunteers and other kids at the orphanages and the result of those interviews were shown in the papers currently taking up residence on Dee's desk.

It was hopeless.

But Dee and Ryo weren't the type to give up easily. They've gotten near impossible cases before and had cracked them. They could do it again. For Dee, it was rather personal this time. They were orphans dammit.

With a sigh, he took another folder and opened it, trying to read again what he had read for possibly the millionth time. Beside him, Ryo was also doing the same, while twirling a pen in his hand absentmindedly. His knee was just brushing Dee's and it felt decidedly good, despite his frustrations and the growing headache he was having. In fact, one hand had decided to take voluntary action and was creeping sneakily across. . . .he was almost there. . . .

"Dee-sempai!!!!"

And found himself with a big leech attached to his neck.

Meanwhile, the mighty god Thor had declared war on all infidels and was churning out his world-famous Lightning Boltsâ"¢, banging merrily away on his heavenly anvil, which was located just behind that spot between Dee's eyes. Loki, the god of mischief, on the other hand, had led the other gods in a celebratory conga line and everyone was wearing spiked boots while stomping in time to the music. Those holy spiked boots were shooting lancing fires of pain through his head, complementing Thor's enthusiastic pounding.

Dee sighed. "JJ," he began wearily. "Get off me, will you?" For Dee, that was perhaps the mildest reprimand he had ever given his too enthusiastic and too clingy colleague. His usual reaction would have been to jump up, scream and get the nearest crowbar to pry the gropy JJ off.

Naturally, the whole office fell quiet at the sudden change in attitude and collectively, jaws dropped open in surprise.

Miraculously, his leech actually did pry himself off and a face swam into view.

"Hey, Dee," asked JJ, "are you okay?" Privately, he wondered why he was even concerned that for once, Dee-sempai hadn't tried to beat him off.

"I'm fine," Dee answered wearily and stood up, determined to get a fresh cup of coffee to drown his head in. At least, he tried to stand up. What happened was that he got as far as standing up straight before Thor started his bloody war and the room started to spin around like a bad B-grade movie effect. He felt himself swaying in response and as his knees buckled, strong hands grasped him upright. He let himself sink into that warm embrace and smiled through his black bangs at his saviour.

"Hey Ryo, thanks. You always know when to help don't cha?" he slurred out.

Everyone was crowding close around them as Ryo propped him up and Dee laid his head on a broad shoulder and closed his eyes. The scent of Ryo's aftershave filled his nostrils and somehow lessened the pain in his poor head.

"Dee, what's wrong?" Ryo sounded a bit frightened and inwardly, Dee winced. He didn't like making his lover get all worried like that and he tried to rally himself, trying to stand again. He had managed to move only a few inches when it became too much and with another groan, he collapsed again on Ryo.

"It's nothing. Just a migraine," he managed to ground out.

"C'mon, let's get you to the couch and you can rest, okay?" Ryo said softly. Those same hands helped him up and was literally carrying him across the room, into the staff lounge. Gently, he felt himself being lowered on to the battered couch and a moment later, Ryo had tucked his jacket underneath his head, serving as a pillow.

He heard running water then and a second later, a wet cloth was pressed over his eyes and he sighed gratefully. "Thanks."

"Can I get you anything else?"

"Nah, just some painkillers would be nice. . ."

"You got it," and Dee felt a pair of soft lips kissing his cheek gently. He fretted silently over the waste of opportunity but there was no help for it. If he tried to tackle Ryo now, he might end up puking over him instead.

"Thanks, and can you close the light after that? It's a bit too bright."

"Hai."

As the room dimmed, Dee let himself drift into the waiting blackness and he silently, quietly, passed out.

Berkley strode into the precinct like he owned it. Which, in a way, he did. . . .Hands stuffed in the pocket of his trousers and his expensive suit unsoiled despite the wet sleet pouring outside, he was all prepared to give a greeting kiss, hug or whatever else he could squeeze out from that delectable piece of. . . . .

(Random author insert: . . . . . . .)

Nevertheless, he was primed and ready and sorely disappointed.

Ryo was not at his desk. Neither was that loudmouth whom Ryo fancied he'd actually like. In fact, Berkley narrowed his eyes dangerously while ignoring the slightly subdued greetings from his detectives, Laytner's absence was not to be tolerated since it was not yet lunchtime and he specifically remembered ordering the both of them to crack down as fast as it's humanly possible on the cult case. The mayor had decided to cut his vacation time short for it. Elections were coming up and he needed to beef up his campaign.

Personally, Berkley was of the opinion that the current mayor was an asshole but since he's only a police commissioner, he had to swallow his ire.

"Where's Laytner?" Berkley snapped.

Drake spoke up hesitantly. "He's in the staff lounge sir. He's sleep-"

Barely were the words out of his mouth when the commissioner strode to the closed door with the words "L unge" stencilled on it, the `o' long gone, and shoved the door open where it banged against the wall. The room was dark, the shades drawn and the lights turned off and as the door produced the desired noise, a lump on the couch stirred and gave a groan.

Sneering, Berkley flipped the light switch, making the lump groan even more and he stalked his way to the offending couch.

"Care to explain why you're getting some shut eyes when I specifically told you to crack the case, Laytner?"

The detective just gave another groan. A cloth was covering his head and Berkley's hand swiftly reached out and flicked it off.

He was unpleasantly surprised to discover that Laytner looked like shit. His skin was flushed with sweat, a too pale contrast against his black hair which lay limp and tangled. As grey eyes blinked in the sudden light, the detective's mouth twisted into barely a ghost of his usual sneer he reserved especially for the commissioner.

"Had a nice vacation, *sir*?" his words also lacked his usual spite and brashness and Berkley was surprised to find himself feeling a bit sorry for that. He decided it must be an effect from all those rich holiday food.

He was saved from actually showing some concern when an angry Ryo rushed in, whispering a shout, "Who the hell opened the lig-oh, hello sir."

Ryo stood there rather awkwardly, a pharmacy bag in his hand while Berkley tried to think up of a way to save some face. His eyes fell on the bag in Ryo's hand and he nodded.

"Well Maclean? What are you waiting for?"

Ryo nodded and hurried over to Dee, after getting a cup of water. Taking out the meds, he helped Dee to swallow them, the black haired man choking slightly as he tried to drink. After Ryo had helped Dee to lie back down, Berkley ushered him out despite Ryo's protests.

Once outside, he closed the door behind him. "You can take Laytner home today. Both of you can get some time off and I'll send the case files over to your apartment later. If the both of you can make it in tomorrow, fine. If not, take three days off," Berkley said curtly.

Ryo's eyes brightened at that and he smiled a genuine smile of thanks. For a moment, Berkley felt a pang that he could never get Ryo to smile like that for him.

"Thank you sir. Don't worry, we'll still be working on the case, no matter what."

With that, he quickly gathered up his and Dee's stuff and hurried back inside the lounge. A moment later, helped by Drake, they carried Dee out, the man hanging limply between them.

Berkley watched them go in silence.

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Ryo was not the kind to worry excessively. In fact, he was not exactly a worrier by nature but nor was he totally a happy-go-lucky kind of guy. Rather, he was like any other normal guy out there in New York. . . .okay, the love of his life was also a guy but that's another matter all together and does not fit into this context currently.

Ryo was worried.

The minute they got home, he had taken Dee into the bedroom and helped him change into a T-shirt and boxers. Somehow, as Dee was changing, Ryo couldn't help but feel as though something was wrong. . . maybe it was due to the fact that Dee was practically naked in the middle of changing but did not take the chance to tackle him to the bed. . . .

It felt kind of wrong somehow, that Dee wasn't trying to get them to make out. He missed it.

As he stirred the soup he was cooking, a frown marred his forehead as he realized that they hadn't even. . . . er. . . slept together the whole week. They still sleep in the same bed together, yeah, it's just that they hadn't had any. . . . you know. . . sex at all.

Something was definitely wrong.

True, they had been pretty busy the past week, running around here and there, and they had gotten to bed late each night, both totally worn out. . . .Still, this was DEE they're talking about, for God's sake.

"Damn," Ryo cursed softly. He had forgotten that they had run out of salt and white pepper. He turned the stove off and looking into the darkened bedroom, he called out softly.

"Dee?"

The man stirred slightly beneath the covers and his lover answered wearily. "Yeah?"

"I'm going down to the shops for a while. I need some salt. Don't move okay? If somebody comes, don't answer the door. Bikky's got the key so he can let himself in."

"Okay."

Closing the door again, Ryo grabbed his house keys and quietly locked the front door behind him. Dashing down the stairs two at a time, he hurried out into the New York noon, still sleeting.

*

That was weird, Bikky thought to himself. Judging by the shoes at the front entrance, Dee was already home. But not Ryo. What could Dee be doing at home so early in the day? Frowning, he wandered into the living room but there was no sign of the pest. Going past the kitchen, he spied the pot on the stove and his stomach growled in answer.

He picked up the ladle and sniffed the cool broth; chicken soup. He took a tentative sip and nearly spat it out again.

"Urgh! No salt! What the hell was Dee thinking?"

He dropped the ladle back into the soup with a splash and stomped to the bedroom. Judging by the closed door, the slacker had probably fallen asleep in the middle of cooking or something as innocuously idiotic as that.

He banged on the door furiously, blond locks flying, sending a sharp staccato throughout the apartment. "Dee! What the hell are you doing? The soup sucks! You forgot the salt!"

Silence greeted his furious tirade and Bikky's eyes narrowed dangerously. That big slug was asking for it. Without further ceremony, he slammed the door open and stalked to the bed. The nerve of the guy! Here he was, all cuddled up under the covers, curtains drawn and the lights out while dinner was going down the drain!

A malicious smile of revenge twisted his young face and he yanked the curtains open, flooding the room with all the dreary bright goodness of the sick New York sun.

Dee didn't even stir.

Right, this calls for a more drastic measure then.

Hands gripping the duvet tightly, he counted under his breath to three silently, and at `3', yanked the duvet down. The words were *just* nicely ready at the tip of his tongue, simply begging to be poured like the acid rains of hell upon the head of the lazy lout when what he was seeing finally sank in.

Oh.

*Oh*.

Dammit.

Dee was curled up in the foetus position, hands clasped together, cradled to his chest and they looked so fragile and delicate. His skin was so pale and papery looking, sweat running down in rivulets and his breath rasped softly in his throat.

Bikky was starting to feel like the biggest idiot in the world, the duvet still dangling from his hands, looking decidedly sad and forlorn now that his supposed victory was snatched away. In hindsight, Bikky realized that Dee was too sick to have been the one to cook the soup so that meant that it was Ryo. Who was probably at the shops getting the salt. Only now he remembered him saying that they were out of it last night at dinner.

Ohgoddammit.

The older man, his long time nemesis, archenemy and a grudgingly-silently-admitted-big brother finally stirred, the light shining directly on his face and his eyes fluttered open. They seemed to have trouble coming into focus and after a bit, they finally fixed upon the guilty boy. Bikky was now decidedly red around the ears.

"Bikky?" Dee rasped out. "What are you doing home so early squirt?"

"It's a half-day today. I told you guys last week, remember?" Bikky answered gruffly. He realised then that he was still holding the duvet and flushing even more, he quickly dropped it and tucked it back around Dee.

"Thnaks," smiled Dee. He opened his mouth to say something else when a spasm of pain crossed his face and he winced.

"Dee? You okay man?" Bikky asked anxiously. What if Dee got worse and needed medical help? Dammit, what was taking Ryo so long?

Instead, with surprising speed considering his state, Dee pushed off the duvet and leapt off the bed. He stumbled to the bathroom, yanking the door open and a moment later, Bikky could hear the sounds of violent retching.

Dammitdammitdammit.

He ran to the bathroom himself and found Dee on his knees in front of the toilet, head hanging wretchedly over the seat. Not knowing what else to do, he rubbed Dee's back soothingly, trying to help in some way and Dee gave him a wan smile in thanks. It took him several more gut twisting vomitting before he emptied all of his stomach and even then he still felt like puking. Nevertheless, with a trembling hand, he flushed the toilet and with Bikky's help, managed to rinse out the sour taste in his mouth and stumbled back to the bed.

Bikky had just put Dee back under the covers and had drawn the curtains closed again when he heard a key turning in the front door's lock. Relief flooded through his body and he ran out of the room, skidding to a stop just in front of Ryo who was looking quite wet. He had a shopping bag in one hand which he dropped to the floor in surprise at Bikky's sudden entrance.

"Bikky? How's Dee?"

Bikky fixed frightened eyes on the drenched man and blurted out, "Dee's looking pretty bad! He threw up a lot just now!"

Ryo was cursing a lot today. The shops were just five minutes away and he had planned to be as quick as he can. Naturally, he had ran into some trouble; an old lady had got run over by some kids on bicycles and he had stopped to help, making sure that she gotten the proper medical attention and all in all, ended up over an hour outside.

Bikky was right. Dee was definitely getting worse. Underneath his own cool palm, Dee felt hot, the sweat trickling down his temples. At his gentle touch, Dee opened his eyes and smiled tiredly.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself. Listen, I think we should get you to the hospital. You're getting worse Dee."

He stopped when Dee shook his head faintly. "It's nothing," Dee insisted.

"What the hell do you mean `it's nothing'? You're sick dammit!"

"It's just that time of the year again."

"Huh?" Ryo was frankly puzzled. What did Dee meant? That time of the year again? What, Thanksgiving?

Dee swallowed, his throat feeling too dry and scratchy. He didn't really feel like talking some more but Ryo deserved an explanation before he drove himself crazy worrying.

"I used to get sick like this, around this time of the year, every year. It stopped though, the year you first came to the precinct. . . I guess I'm getting a resurgence."

"Did you ever get a check up then?"

A faint nod. "Yeah, they didn't find anything wrong. The doctors just think it's stress. It'll be over in a few days or so."

Ryo didn't really feel all that comforted now. He was still worried. From the time they first met, Dee had never gotten sick before. The man was as annoyingly healthy as a horse so seeing him down and out like this was more than slightly unnerving. What to do then?

"Hey, they say the new guy that moved in apartment 2C is a doctor," Bikky spoke up from his post near the door.

"Really?" Ryo smiled in sudden relief. "Yokatta! Bikky, can you stay here with Dee while I go get him?"

The boy nodded, blond ponytail bobbing up and down and Ryo then instructed him to make some cold compresses for Dee.

Without even taking the time to change his wet clothes, he quickly ran out of his apartment. He hoped the doctor made house calls.

________________________________________________________________ ________

His robed were the blackest midnight hue and they fell form his frame like an undulating wave of living darkness, rising and falling with his frantic breathing. The cowl attached to it threw his face into shadows so all that they could see was the occasional glint of white teeth and the flashing of fevered, excited eyes.

"The time is near at hand, my disciples! For even as light was bestowed upon mankind with the birth of the saviour, so was darkness given birth!"

As one, his following fell to their knees, chanting in mass devotion. The deep rumbling shook through the room, sounding like the opening of the gates of hell itself. On the wall, the torches gave of a sooty glow, twisting and flickering in time with their prayers.

Just behind their leader, on a roughly hewn stone altar which was coated with dried and fresh blood, the broken body of a small child, barely ten years of age, lay still and unmoving.

Slowly, slowly, like a lazily flowing river, his own blood fell from the slits on his wrists, to stain his already stained coffin. A bead of blood, hesitating just at the lip of a cut, quivered in anticipation.

"Find him! We must find him! Even as the light shines down upon us, so must the darkness! Find him!"

A splash of blood.

________________________________________________________________ ________

Evil is not an abstract concept

It lives

It has a form

It stalks

It is too real

-Dr. Tom Dooley-

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~to be continued~

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A/N: So people, how was it? Whew, it took sweat, blood and tears for me to get that chapter out! - _ -`

If anyone could give me some suggestions on how the story should flow from here, please tell! Release me from this painful bondage of coming up with a better chapter than the one before! ^ . ^ Seriously.