Fake Fan Fiction ❯ In Blind Faith ❯ In Blind Faith ( Chapter 1 )

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In Blind Faith
A FAKE fan fiction by Aino
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Dedication: This fic is a gift and a tip of the hat to NeekerBreeker, for brainstorming help, loan of muses, irredeemably quotable JJ lines and making me believe in DrakexJJ. All for the gay cops.
Thanks to both of my sharp-eyed beta readers, Neeks and Alyssa. :D
Disclaimer: The FAKE series and all associated characters are property and copyright of Matou Sanami, BexBoy Comics, Biblos and Tokyopop. I claim no association with the above parties and I am not getting paid for this. Happy now?
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Category/Genre/Pairing: one-shot, drama, DrakexJJ (mostly platonic)
Timeline: This story takes place after Act 15, at the end of Volume Five. Heavily based on Act 15. Slight spoilers for the first five manga volumes.
In the Background: New Order, Everything But the Girl, The Cure. Take your pick.
Note to the Oblivious: "Senpai" is a Japanese term of respect, meaning in this case someone who is one's senior in a profession/capacity. It is rather untranslatable, but I want to stay true to the original manga in spite of that; thus, I use the Japanese word.

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Who is this man / That follows me
This blue-eyed boy / That wants to be
This worthy cause / Of human kind
This pawn set up by time --

This open book / Yet to be read
This second look / This leap ahead
The hope I held inside
With you, was kept alive

-- New Order, Here to Stay

There were several things wrong with Drake's Thursday morning.

One, it was way too early. The noise of the earliest night shift deserters drifted from the hallway; the office that passed for the workspace of the 27th Precinct's detectives at the Bronx station lay quiet. It had been some time since Drake had relieved a widely yawning Ted from fighting sleep at his desk; his workmate had not stayed to question his luck, but had fled to home and bed before Drake got his coat off. Not that Drake could blame him.

Two, his head still smarted. Drake poked at his left temple, well aware that the skin there was still ruptured and tight with scar tissue. It hadn't been the first time he'd been on the receiving end of a gun-whip, but the head trauma definitely did not improve with experience.

Three, he was out of smokes and didn't feel like crossing the street to the corner store. He settled for taking as slow drags as he could bear of his second to last cigarette.

Four, even though he was sitting here in the office crammed too full of desks and closets, at the crack of dawn and sorely lacking in nicotine, the room stubbornly remained vacant of its usual early-morning occupant.

'Well, Parker, you know he got ten days of leave. You're still on a paperwork-only sentence yourself, though that's only because the tanuki's feeling oddly easygoing.'

Knocking on the desk in the hope that Chief Smith's lenient mood would continue, Drake resumed his staring contest with the door.

Today it'd been ten days since Max Fork had caused a breach of security at the Bronx station, killed an officer, wounded two detectives, and then been shot in self-defence by Dee Latener and Ryou MacLean. Drake had had most of the story told to him; his own part had ended with the butt of a gun impacting on his forehead as he'd rushed downstairs.

In this case, the story was about as nasty as second-hand knowledge as a personal experience, he reckoned. Too bad he could not get the details from the one person who actually had them all.

However, his partner did not answer the phone, did not drop by the station -- Drake was getting edgy enough to go leaning on his doorbell, if that would produce anything more than a busy signal from the other end of the phone line.

'Oh, whatever. I should be puzzling over who murdered Eloise MacNair, not wondering where JJ's hiding.'

To back up yet another lax attempt at focusing, Drake lifted the binder of witness statements over which he'd ostensibly been poring since his arrival. In reality, his only accomplishment all morning had been to walk the ten steps from the door to the vending machine for a cup of coffee. It sat untouched on his desk. Weird, how the prospect of drinking his morning coffee alone was skin-crawlingly strange.

The bottom line was that JJ should have been there, pouring sugar into his cup until the end result was more glucose than caffeine, concocting elaborate theories about their latest perp, scattering the photos of a crime scene in his leap from the desk as Dee sauntered in.

Although Ryou had patted Drake on the shoulder and kindly said he just thought JJ needed some time, the frustration wouldn't abate. He'd been running in little circles since the Monday before last; since he woke in first aid and was sent home, his head wrapped in gauze and painkillers in tow. And yes, he could see Mr. Addams if he wished to, but Mr. Addams had deep contusions in his stomach and face and was currently asleep, so...

Drake had sighed and gone home. Since then, he'd been on the lookout for his elusive partner more or less constantly. So far, without results.

The door was opened. Drake lazily angled his head for a better look, then nearly choked on the remains of his cigarette.

"Morning, senpai!"

Drake burst to his feet in a surge of motion that sent the case files fluttering across the room like fledgling angels of sheer exasperation.

"And where the blue fuck have you been all week? I sit here in knots with worry and wonder what way of shuffling off the mortal coil you've come up with!" He was shouting, quite loud, but too much was unravelling in the wake of the words, now that the object of his anxiety was finally within hearing distance.

"Whoa, whoa, senpai, easy now!" JJ shoved his overcoat onto the nearest chair and held up a placating hand. A quick grin of reassurance flashed across his mouth. "I haven't jumped off a building yet, see?"

"Don't you easy now me!" Drake brandished his cigarette stump like a scepter of sovereignty. "The last thing I know before someone knocks my lights out is that there's a lunatic loose in the basement, and then when I wake up your --"

As he stopped to inhale, something akin to distaste rippled on JJ's face; it was gone swiftly, and Drake was far from being derailed now. Perhaps the flicker of emotion made him pick his next words with some care, though.

"Your friend's dead after trying to snatch the coke, turns out he was on the run when he came to town, and nobody knows where the fuck you are!"

"I was on sick leave, senpai. You know?" Had Drake not been about ready to spit nails, the way JJ's persisting smile waned and his jawline hardened would have told him his partner gauged it to be time for damage control.

Right then, JJ's apparent calm just fueled his aggravation.

"You didn't exactly get that sick leave for the most reassuring reasons, JJ! It's been over a goddamn week without a breath from you. At least pick up the phone, would you?"

Nothing in JJ's visage betrayed the final fate of the seven messages Drake had left in the answering machine, dictated in various stages of agitation. His partner was a study in focused apprehension; but JJ's continued silence rattled Drake enough that he didn't give a damn.

"For God's sake, mope if you have to. I know I would if I was in your shoes, just -- just say something. Each of Drake's words was an intonation pattern unto itself now. "I'd have thought you of all people would understand that without someone having to pound it into your skull, dammit."

Gaining conviction as he went, Drake continued over the sound of the door being opened again. "It would've been damn nice to get a 'see you next week, I've got some issues to work out' or even a friggin' 'leave me the hell alone, Parker!' Oh, and all I hear about you comes from Dee Latener of all the people on this force --"

"Is that the delightful sound of my name being called?"

JJ started visibly, and Drake's head reflexively snapped towards the source of the voice. It was much too close to his liking.

"You are aware you have an audience?" Dee drawled.

Drake could not, at the moment, conceive of many more unsettling sights than Dee Latener grinning like a monkey wrench straight into his face. His colleague held a cup of coffee as close to piping hot as the station vending machine could achieve. Drake had an absurd impulse to douse Dee's smirk with the coffee.

"You done with the workplace drama yet? If so, there's a bunch of people here looking for coffee and blasted back to the stairs by your shouting. This paper door --" Dee knocked on the wooden frame for emphasis "-- doesn't actually help your privacy that much, and Drake, you're louder than Chief on a bad Monday morning." Dee leaned deep into the room, bending into an inverted L of smug amusement.

"Well, at least the Bronx people are getting a little two-seven brand quality entertainment," he quipped. "Didn't really expect you two to be the source of it, though."

JJ cast a not-so-furtive glance in Dee's direction, unease writ large across his face.

"Drake-senpai --"

Drake drew a deep breath and pointed his cigarette stump at Dee.

"We'll finish this later, Latener. And you --" he whirled on his partner "-- you come with me. Now." Scanning the hallway for the nearest relatively private space, Drake zeroed in on the records room. He grabbed JJ's arm and hauled him towards the half-open door.

JJ made an attempt at extricating himself. "Whoa, at least buy me a drink first before manhandling me! Seriously, you're blowing off like a Chinese fireworks factory, just --"

Drake slammed the records room door on Dee's poorly muffled outburst of hilarity.

He herded JJ to the reading desks, and pulled a chair with such force that the file cases piled on the desk shifted violently, threatening to topple. JJ rushed to rescue the papers, realigning them as he fixed Drake with an annoyed glare.

'I suppose I deserve that. Bet Dee -- no, make that the whole station -- won't let me live this down for weeks. And bet JJ's not too happy about being caught like this by Dee of all people.' Drake slumped into the chair, exhaling in a lung-flattening wheeze.

"Okay --"

"Senpai, next time, could I have a thirty seconds notice, please? Before you send my personal concerns echoing off the walls?" JJ interrupted before Drake could work up another tirade. He stood by the desk, the palm of one hand pressed rigidly against its surface. "It's been a rough week, despite Ryou-senpai and Dee-senpai coming to see me. You don't suppose I had reasons for wanting to be alone?"

It was scary seeing JJ so deadpan, Drake decided.

"I've had to deal with a lot recently, senpai, so don't come spouting at me about what I should do when you've no idea about it!" Drake couldn't remember JJ ever raising his voice in anger; the poignant edge in it now was as close to indignation as he'd ever heard.

"Tell me then." The request was off of Drake's tongue before he had time to evaluate it.

However, JJ's shoulders slackened and he drew himself up to sit on the edge of the desk, his feet dangling off the floor. The reminder of their usual routine -- JJ sitting on his desk like that when they went through paperwork -- suddenly comforted Drake enormously. This morning had acquired way too many weird qualities already.

Drake lit his last cigarette despite the nominal ban on smoking in the records room. He and Dee broke it all the time anyway, and he needed something to ease his nerves. It was not like him to fly off the handle without a thought for the consequences; he felt he owed JJ something after his outburst. If all he had to do was to be a shoulder to cry on, then all the better.

Once or twice JJ stopped and swallowed audibly before continuing his narrative of the incident in the storage room. He had never been good at hiding his feelings, and Drake did not need to be much of a three-cent psychologist to realise that some details here he would never hear.

Unexpectedly, it galled him more than a little.

"Then Max pointed his gun at me. That's when Dee- and Ryou-senpai came in. Max whipped around at them, of course they fired. The last thing he said was 'don't trust anyone like me'." Drake had to hand it to JJ that his voice did not falter once before he lapsed into silence.

"I didn't really feel like coming to the station after they released me from the hospital. I had to think, even if I didn't much want to."

"You had leave until tomorrow," Drake remarked. "So why're you here now?"

JJ's eyebrows rose into nonplussed archs. "I couldn't sit at home any more, and frankly I'm sick of the graveyard."

Drake thought that of all the people he knew, JJ was the last he'd associate with graveyards in any sense or form.

Apparently interpreting Drake's silence as a closing of that topic, JJ continued. "Now, my turn, senpai. I really wasn't expecting to be yelled at first thing when I come back to work." If it was possible to ask an order, then that was what JJ had done.

"Okay, so it wasn't the most eloquent opening I could've thought of. I was just so goddamn worried. With all this crazy stuff that went on with your friend and then you -- you not even calling or something," Drake finished, feeling lame all of a sudden.

"I'd call you a worrywart now, if things were normal."

"What's not normal now? You're my partner, JJ. I watch your back."

It was quiet for a moment as JJ let his gaze drift across the room, seemingly trying to focus on anything that was not Drake.

"Max didn't think so. He blamed his partner for Liza's death -- and blamed himself for trusting Ned."

Something clicked into place then, and again Drake's mouth got the better of his brain.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

'If I didn't hit bull's-eye there, that shot wasn't too far off.' Drake was no expert in non-verbal communication, but JJ's sudden fidgeting was cue enough.

"Not as such, senpai. It's not that simple."

"Then what is it? And which part of my question does that answer?" Drake retorted, snapping in spite of himself. The cat -- if not more than one -- was out of the bag now and probably couldn't be stuffed back in.

Normally, JJ would've shaken off his anxieties and moved on, his characteristic optimism pulling him through. At that moment the word Drake wanted to use of JJ was maudlin. Or defeated. It made his insides twist.

Seconds passed with glacial slowness until JJ finally spoke again.

"Both parts -- but it's hard talking about this." JJ grimaced. "The Max I remember never would've done the things he did. He'd changed so much. Even when he was dying, what he said to me then...

"I always thought I was one of the good guys, senpai."

This leap in topic momentarily confused Drake.

"So -- you're worried that..." He let the sentence hang.

"That I start doubting myself. And... others."

'You mean me.' The thought rose into Drake's mind piercingly clear.

"Can I ask you something, senpai?"

Drake nodded. He had a good hunch what was coming, but the stark honesty with which the question was delivered was still disquieting.

"Can you say you'll always trust me -- and my judgment? Can you say you'll never let me down, Drake?"

Time seemed to cough and splutter like a reluctantly starting car on a cold winter morning.

'The hell do I tell him? Does he know what he's asking?'

'Yeah, he does. Without a doubt.' Drake nodded to himself as if to lend weight to his conclusion. He cleared his throat before answering.

"No, I can't swear I'll never screw up. Honestly, JJ, who in this line of work could? Every other case has us riding the ragged edge. Or dying of boredom." JJ didn't smile, but his face softened in appreciation nonetheless. Drake took heart in that, despite feeling like a blundering fool.

'I can't really just say "be reasonable." Especially not after this charade. Besides, who'd be reasonable when their friend just died before their eyes, cop or no?'

"But I do trust you, JJ. We've been through a lot together. I've made leaps of faith on your word before and I'll do it again. And I seriously hope you can trust me back." He paused. "Even after Max's death."

For a moment, the silence said all that was necessary.

JJ was again the one to break it, his voice inquisitive, as if he were carefully measuring what Drake's reaction would be. "Blind faith, eh, senpai?"

Drake stood from the chair and went to lean against the desk, instead. "At times, yeah. It sounds to me like Max had some in you, too. Faith that you'd tell him what he needed to hear, I mean."

Drake didn't know if JJ was aware of how he brightened with sudden hope, but he wished to God that hope would hold.

"So you're saying that when Max died --"

"I don't know, JJ. At this point you can only ask yourself."

JJ crossed his arms over his chest. "Sounds awfully Jediesque to me, senpai. Start inverting your word order and I'll say you've had a Star Wars overdose."

Drake scowled, quite against his better intentions. "Damn it, JJ, I'm trying to be serious here!"

"I know."

"And..." Drake clasped JJ's shoulder in a firm grip, hoping to convey what he felt his words fell woefully short of. "If it helps any, there are good, decent, honest cops left in the world. You're one of them." He was rewarded with a smile from his partner; it hardly nudged the corners of JJ's mouth, but his eyes lit up unmistakably. Drake felt like daring to breathe again.

JJ made to speak as the door cracked open. Drake winced more from memory than in surprise; opening doors had only brought bad shit on him this morning, and it seemed his luck was keeping its course. Chief Smith's familiar figure loomed in the doorway.

"What the hell're you doing hiding here -- and what have I said about smoking in the records room, Parker?"

"Sorry, sir." All of a sudden their partnerly bonding moment evaporated in the face of Chief's impending wrath. And yet, at the same time it was good to know that however messy things got, there were some truths in the universe that, although not quite benevolent, were unchanging. One of them was that crossing the Chief of the NYPD 27th Precinct was occasionally educational, frequently painful, but always unwise.

"And why are the MacNair case files all over the office floor? It's cluttered enough here without you using witness statements for installation art!"

Drake slapped himself on the forehead and prayed for deliverance for an intensive three seconds. Knowing it'd never helped before, he ducked past the Chief and hurried to salvage the papers he'd scattered upon JJ's arrival. 'Man, what is this, a particularly vile Monday in disguise?'

He returned with the dishevelled sheaf of paper just in time to catch an ominous sentence resounding from the records room.

"If you're feeling up to it, JJ, you could kick some life into your sloth of a partner and get statements from the rest of the witnesses."

JJ had years of practise in ignoring Drake's 'if we don't have to, let's not' pantomime. They did not fail him this time, either.

"If it's interviews, sure, Chief. I'm good to go. Now?"

All the way to the ground floor, Drake grumbled weak curses at his partner, who went skipping down the steps half a staircase ahead of him.

"Oh, stop it, senpai. We're supposed to be the good guys, right? Protecting and serving and all that."

They got a face full of a brilliant October daybreak as they came out into the crisp air. A breeze blew dust devils wreathed in fallen leaves across the parking lot. Drake slapped at the air in JJ's general direction, not quite mellowed down yet.

JJ backstepped as if to avoid his summary hit. "What was that for?"

"For getting us yoked into doing something useful. Payback for that manhandling comment. Where the hell did that come from, anyway?"

"Desperate attempt at humour to cover up acute irritation?" JJ shrugged as if to dismiss the topic. "You know, when Dee-senpai turned up --"

"Yeah. Sorry." Drake had the grace to look sheepish.

"It's okay." It would have taken a heroic effort to disprove the sincerity in JJ's gaze, so Drake just gave up on the spot and accepted the forgiveness. It felt unprecedentedly liberating. Since when had he cared this much about what JJ thought -- especially as those thoughts concerned him? Probably, in one way or another, ever since he'd been stuck with a sprightly, perky rookie a few years back.

Honestly, the things he did for this kid.

He blinked as JJ waved the car keys in front of his face with a jaunty metallic rattle.

"Senpai? Are you going to get in the car?"

Shaking his head, Drake slouched into the passenger seat. "And why the heck are we working when you're still supposed to be recovering?"

"Because I can't let Ryou-senpai continue filling your work quotas any longer. I bet he's been solving the cases on his own since last week."

"Hey! Some credit here, please."

For a second Drake was certain JJ had contemplated sticking his tongue out at him. Then his partner settled for leaning on the side window with a mock scoff. "Just pointing out some truths, senpai. Or significant probabilities, at least."

"Oh fuck me! Just drive already, then." Drake shot JJ a look of amused impatience as he jerked the passenger-side door closed.

"Make up your mind, Drake-senpai." The unnerving thing about JJ's expression at the moment was that it was completely devoid of ambiguity.

"You know what I meant, JJ."

"Well, no such thing in life as absolute certainty. Wasn't it you who said that, senpai?" JJ grinned like an imp.

"Do you ever wonder why I sometimes pretend you're not my partner?" Rolling his eyes, Drake heaved a sigh rather overdramatic for the situation.

"No. I have yet to catch you doing that." The tone of JJ's voice yanked Drake's eyes back to him snappier than a traffic accident. The young man's mirth had been replaced by utter seriousness. His hands rested on the steering wheel, the car still unmoving.

'Damn, if I hadn't seen his ID I still sometimes wouldn't believe he's past his teens. From slap-happy to moody and brooding in half a second flat. And what the heck for?' Drake shifted in discomfort, knowing all too well his brows had already creased in concern. Cautiously, he extended a hand towards JJ.

Drake was faced with an incoming sideways hug that became a full-fledged glomp as he turned in the seat, to accommodate JJ's invasion of his personal space. Picking the safe option from the range of snap reactions, he raised a hand to tousle JJ's hair. He inclined into the back of the seat and allowed JJ to lean into him for a moment longer.

"Hey, kid, what is it?" Drake knew he had to breach the situation before it scretched too far. He was already screwing the lid onto a flock of questions sneaking out of the jar of his world order. JJ body-tackling him in the car on a conveniently empty parking lot was a definite spanner in the works of that world.

JJ complied with his unspoken request and straightened himself, looking far too relaxed to just have committed an obvious infringement of his single-minded devotion to Dee. Giving Drake a lop-sided smile, he turned the key in the ignition and the car growled into motion.

"Heaven may forgive, Chief will not if we don't get on the case. And you could fill me in on the details on the way. Let's just get moving, partner."

Realizing he was smiling from ear to ear, Drake peered out at the city awash in rare, golden autumn sunlight. "Yeah. So drive already."

Drake could have sworn JJ chuckled under his breath as the car slid into the street. The world was back on track, for the most part.

Fin

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I shall leave you with an amusing anecdote born while brainstorming for this story on Messenger. Even though it ended up being the records room instead of the office, seeing as they're still sharing the Bronx station at this time.

JJ: Ooh, I love it when you're so... *authoritative*. Throw me into the office anytime you like.
Drake: Don't mind if I do.
Neeks: ::beats muses:: Control your rampant libidos! Damn you, we're platonic here!

We'll see if I write that fic one of these days. Until then, feedback is greatly appreciated.
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First draft October 15, 2004
Revised November 8, 2004
Aino
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