Fearless Leader (Juxtapose City)

by Tricia Owens

  He hated what had been done to Starr. Detested it. No one deserved such treatment. But at the same time to sympathize and give the empath a shoulder to cry on meant stepping onto that tightrope and Black couldn't do it.

  So Starr had tried to force him to react.

  Black understood the reasons behind the empath's attack, but -- oh, god -- why had it had to be that way?

  Because he's an empath and he knows how to hurt you.

  Black closed his eyes, fighting down the bile in his throat as his mind tried to drag him back to that moment when he'd been held down over the motorcycle and he'd felt Starr trying to push his way inside. Black shivered with nausea, his hand closing around the vial of G-28. It was a good thing the empath hadn't been able to get an erection because Black might have tried to kill him afterwards.

  No. Forget might have. Black would have killed him.

  But it didn't happen and Starr's still a living member of your team. A hurting member. So what are you going to do about it? How are you going to help him?

  Black opened his eyes tiredly. The rage was still there and it was white-hot, consuming him from the inside out. He knew what he needed to do. He just wasn't so sure he could do it. He didn't know if he had the guts. And now that he'd succumbed to Bliss yet again he wasn't so sure he could stay away from it.

  He rubbed at his dry eyes just as a tiny click reached his ears. Even before he'd lowered his hand he knew that his last bit of luck had just deserted him.

  The door to his room opened and it was like a scene from a movie: everything became slow motion. Black felt his own eyes go round, echoing Sola's. The sergeant's face went white as he looked down at Black surrounded by all of his drugs. Black instinctively tried to cover up the incriminating evidence but the moment his hands came in contact with the sheets of Bliss he knew he'd just made the ultimate mistake: he'd just made himself look ten times guiltier. Icy blue eyes fell to the '28 still in Black's hand and they hardened.

  "Sergeant," Black said in a voice he had to push through his tight throat. "I didn't give you permission to enter my room."

  It took a moment for Sola to find his voice as well. With a snap he raised his head to stare at the wall above Black's head. "My apologies, sir. I didn't realize you were..." he trailed off as his eyes fell to the drugs and then jumped away again. Sola held out his PRU. "Sir, I came to inform you that Captain Dickerson needs to speak with you. He asked me to let you use my PRU."

  Black left the drugs on the carpet as he stood, knowing that it was a waste of time to hide them now. He could guess what was going through Sola's mind and he didn't know what to do about it. He accepted the unit warily, noting that Sola still refused to look him in the face.

  Black raised the unit, digging his nails into his palm as he looked at Dickerson. The fury returned, tainting the edges of his vision with red. He wanted to demand why the captain had done it. He wanted to know what the hell the older man had thought to accomplish or if he'd been thinking at all. He wanted to know most of all why Dickerson got off on hurting other people. But all he said was, "Sir."

  Something of what he felt must have leaked into his voice. The captain's face tightened. "Lieutenant Black, did you pick up Agent Starr as I asked you to?"

  You mean after you attacked him? "No, sir. I did not. Starr and I had a disagreement and I left him there." Black noticed that Sola still stood in the doorway, eyes riveted to the drugs on the floor. "Sergeant, leave. I'll return your PRU to you when I'm finished."

  Sola's eyes flicked to him and then away. He didn't say a word as he spun on his heel and left.

  "Why didn't you call me on my unit?" Black demanded of Dickerson.

  "I tried calling it and you never answered," Dickerson shot back.

  Black patted his pockets and came up empty. The last time he'd had it he was trying to-- Black gasped. He dimly remembered pushing the alarm button in his panic. What an idiot he was! Jake was probably tearing his hair out with worry, searching the city for him.

  "I must have misplaced it somewhere," Black explained. "Sir, I really need to make an urgent call right now. What is it you needed to speak to me about?"

  Dickerson's eyes narrowed at Black's tone but he let it slide. "I just received a message that I'd hoped was a mistake. But since you've admitted to not picking up Starr I have to believe the report is true. Who's in the house right now?"

  Bee's car had been absent when he'd pulled into the garage which meant there was a good chance that Haney was with him. Jake was probably ransacking the city -- best not to think about that right now.

  "Only Sergeant Sola."

  Dickerson sighed, the lines in his face deepening. "Both of you gear up. Don't bother calling the others; there isn't time. Sergeant Cole and Agent Starr are already in the middle of an altercation and need your help." Dickerson paused, his eyes searching Black's face. "They've found Genesis."

  The blood drained from Black's head. Whether he fell or he tripped somehow he ended up on the floor again. "Genesis?" he whispered. "But -- how?"

  His eyes swung back to the drugs scattered across his bedroom floor. Dickerson was speaking to him but Black didn't hear a word of it.

  Genesis.

  Suddenly, Black wasn't so sure he wanted to be clean for this. What had seemed so terrible before didn't look half as bad as what lie ahead.

  ~~~~~

  Jake didn't like Starr but that dislike didn't prevent him from wanting to kick in the face of whoever had done this to the empath.

  Starr looked like hell. No, he looked like one of Hell's mistresses because he'd obviously been fucked like one. Jake glanced to the side at the other man, eyes skittering over the bruises and fingernail cuts and settling on the way Starr sat -- with his weight on one hip. Poor bastard. Even an empath -- an empath who'd been a whore -- didn't deserved what Starr had gotten.

  "So you're still not gonna tell me, huh?" Silence was his answer. Jake ran a hand over his face as he steered the craft down the street Starr had directed him to. "You know I'm a cop. You know I'm not gonna let you sweep this thing under the rug. Especially now that you're -- one of us."

  The words were hard to say. Starr was one of them now. It was like slivers of bamboo being shoved beneath Jake's fingernails to admit it but he couldn't deny the truth: Starr was a teammate. What hurt Starr hurt them all.

  "Why do you care?" Starr threw back, looking out the side window. He held Black's PRU in his lap and was unconsciously caressing it with his fingers. "I'm competition, remember?"

  "Competition, maybe." Jake let his voice show that he didn't think there was much of it. "But I'm not an asshole, Starr. What was done to you was just wrong. Whoever did it shouldn't get away with it." He glanced at the other man hopefully. "I want to hold him down while you kick him in the nuts."

  Starr actually laughed, a husky sound that Jake felt in his groin. He squirmed in his seat.

  Starr's bright green eyes found him, all the more stunning for being surrounded by black, bruising skin. "You surprise me, Cole. You've surprised me several times, in fact. You've had your chances to beat me while I'm down but you didn't. Better watch out: I may decide you're worth pursuing after all."

  "Eh, no thanks," Jake mumbled, feeling himself blush. Damn empath.

  Starr chuckled again and managed to relax fractionally. His shoulders settled back against the seat and his head rolled gently on the headrest. Jake glanced at him, pleased he'd been able to at least provide a sense of safety since the other man wasn't going to let him do much else.

  To cover his frustration he brought up another topic. "So you haven't explained yet why you have Black's PRU. Or where he is."

  Tension crept back into Starr. He sat up, his hand tightening around the unit in question.

  "We had a fight," Starr said slowly. "A physical one. He dropped this during the middle of it."

  The words made Jake uneasy. "A physical fight," he repeated, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

  Starr tried to smirk
but ended up wincing instead. "Oh, calm down, sweetheart. Do you honestly think Darkness is responsible for this?"

  No, of course he didn't. Black would sooner offer up his own ass than rape someone else. Self-sacrifice was one thing Jake knew his leader was very, very good at.

  "I know he didn't do it, but -- why'd you two fight?" Especially after seeing you like this?

  Starr let his head fall back again. Jake glanced at him and saw that the empath's face showed a rare unhappiness. "I made a mistake. I treated him the way I had been treated. It was a mistake that I'm lucky Darkness didn't shoot me for. But at the time I thought he deserved it."

  Jake nearly slammed on the brakes. "You tried to--"

  "Killing me won't help you to find him," Starr reminded him calmly but he looked distressed. "If there's anyone who can find him in his current state of mind it'll be me."

  "If you've hurt him I'll deliver you back to whoever did this to you," Jake snarled and he meant it.

  But Starr didn't give him the reaction he expected. The empath smiled at him as if seeing Jake differently. "You love him, don't you?"

  The softly spoken question pierced Jake's anger, deflating it. It was a question he'd once asked himself the night Lucas and Max had been killed. Jake had been the first to find Black lying unconscious and bloodied in the street. Jake had nearly cried; he'd been so afraid. But Black had lived and there had been others to mourn so Jake had pushed the question aside. It didn't need answering anyway, he reminded himself. Black didn't want him so what was the use in loving him?

  "Do I have to love him to care whether he's hurt?" Jake returned, his voice steady. "He's my teammate. He's my leader. That's what JC2 is about: we give our lives for each other. We care."

  "We care," Starr murmured. Jake looked over at him and found the empath's eyes glassy, a small smile playing at the edges of his lips. "Do you care for me, Sergeant Cole?"

  It wasn't a come-on. Jake realized he was seeing a side of the freaky empath that he might never see again. "You're a pain in my ass, Starr, but I do care. You're one of us. You're part of the team. Black's team." Jake cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "But that still doesn't mean I'm going to sit by and watch you try to seduce him."

  Starr laughed. "I wouldn't expect anything less of you, sweetheart. A worthy competitor makes winning the fair maiden all the more enjoyable."

  Jake rolled his eyes. "Don't let Black hear you calling him a fair maiden. On second thought go right ahead. It'll make my job that much easier." Starr just smiled. "So where are we headed?"

  Starr's teasing mood vanished. "Black turned west onto Repart Avenue." He hesitated before adding, "I think he might be heading to 'D' Street."

  "What?!"

  Starr winced and stuck a finger in his ear. "You have a tendency towards loud outbursts, don't you?"

  Jake ignored him. "Why the fuck would he be heading there? I've told him a hundred times not to go looking for info without some sort of back-up."

  Starr just shrugged, avoiding Jake's eyes.

  Jake fumed, driving faster now that he knew where they were going. If Black wasn't hurt Jake was going to give the younger man a few bruises of his own. This was just one of many things Jake had wanted to speak to Black about but hadn't been given the chance. Their planned 'talk' hadn't happened yet and if it was too late... Jake gripped the wheel tighter and sailed through a red light.

  "As a caring teammate I'd like to request that you not get us killed on the way," Starr said mildly.

  Jake eased the pressure on the accelerator. "Sorry."

  "You're concerned for him. It's understandable, sweetheart."

  The empath's nonchalant tone made Jake shake his head. "I don't get you, Starr. You've just been fucked over -- pun intended -- and yet you sound like someone gave you a bad haircut and you're slightly peeved by it. Doesn't it -- doesn't it hurt?"

  He was uncomfortable asking something like this; it was too personal and he didn't want to get personal with Starr of all people. But the other man's flippant attitude might be cause for concern. Starr might be in some kind of denial and need therapy or something. It might be an excuse for Jake to have Starr kicked off the team but he didn't feel too pleased with the 'opportunity'.

  "Has this -- has this happened before to you?" he asked the empath, fearing the answer.

  Starr stared ahead through the front window. Long fingers twirled a lock of purple hair, around and around. "I've been a prostitute for most of my adult life," Starr began quietly. "Before that I exchanged my body for the Bliss tabs I needed. Before that I didn't have a choice in the matter. Pale hair and green eyes on a pretty boy draws attention no matter where you live. It's ten times worse when you live on the streets and the police are more than a phone call away -- they're non-existent."

  Jake listened, a part of him not wanting to care. This was his rival after all: the same cocky asshole who wanted to steal Black and screw him. But Jake was only human and he couldn't distance himself from the faint tremor he heard in Starr's voice, something so faint he could have told himself he imagined it. Could have -- if only for the shine to the empath's eyes that told Jake the vulnerability might very well be real.

  "To answer your question, Cole, it does hurt. It did. The first time I nearly died from it." Starr raised the lock of hair he'd been twirling and distractedly ran it across his mouth, back and forth. "I tried to bury myself in Bliss to forget, to not think about why it had happened, why I'd allowed it..." His mouth twisted as he glanced briefly at Jake. "You know the reaction, I'm sure."

  Jake nodded. "The guilt of the victim. Convinced he or she has done something to incite their attacker. The dirtiness afterwards."

  "Oh, you don't know dirty," Starr whispered and the darkness in his voice made Jake shiver. "The thought of another body against yours makes you sick. The thought of touching yourself makes you want to cut off your skin." Starr dropped his hand, his voice numb. "But if you live on the streets you don't see some fancy psychiatrist. You survive. You go on. And when you're an empath like me you prepare yourself for the next time. And the time after that. And every time it gets a little easier to lock it all away."

  "You sound... almost normal about it now," Jake ventured.

  Starr looked at him brightly. "Do I?" He sat back, smiling faintly. "Good."

  "But I know you're not," Jake finished, locking gazes with the other man.

  He pulled up to a red light. In the darkening light of approaching evening the stop light painted Starr in bruises and blood.

  "Those times I've been raped have been the only times in my life when I've wanted to kill myself for being able to read other people's feelings." Starr's eyes were black, his smile brittle. "The things I feel are so very, very ugly, Sgt. Cole. The human race can be a terrible thing sometimes."

  Jake looked into those eyes and for a moment he lost all animosity for the man. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry you have to be this way."

  Starr didn't smile. "I’m sorry too."

  ~~~~~

  It happened in an instant. One moment Calyx was watching the dirty, scarred buildings whizzing by and wondering what would happen if he jumped out of the craft. The next moment his head was bouncing off the side window so hard the glass nearly cracked.

  Calyx clutched his head. "Damn it, Cole!"

  The other man groaned as he turned off the engine. Not that it mattered; Jake had driven them into the corner of a shoe store and the front end of the electro-craft was crushed.

  Calyx felt his all of his limbs -- he was surprised at how difficult it was to discern old injury from new -- and decided he hadn't been hurt too badly. He rounded on the other man who was unbuckling his seatbelt with shaky hands. "What happened? You were driving just fine until you freaked out."

  "Something -- something pushed into my brain." Jake was wide-eyed, looking out the cracked front window.

  Calyx recognized the hysteria he saw in the sergeant's face: fear of the telepath. No one wanted a stranger reading th
e awful things that filled your head. Even more frightening was the possibility that a telepath could crawl into your mind and begin controlling your actions. Telling people that there wasn't a single telepath on the planet who could manage something like that was pointless.

  Besides, Calyx wasn't so sure it was the truth.

  "What did you feel, exactly?" he demanded, grabbing Jake by the arms. "Explain it!"

  Jake jerked free and scrubbed at his face, trying to get a grip. In a calmer voice he said, "I don't know how to explain it. I just know it wasn't anything I'd ever felt before. It was like an invisible finger was massaging my brain but it wasn't really a finger, more like -- like words running across my head."

  Calyx kept his face purposefully blank. "What words?"

  Jake's golden eyes held fear. "Come to me."

  There was only one man alive who Calyx knew could send thoughts to other people. "Genesis," he said grimly.

  "What?" Jake's eyes bulged. He dug around furiously in his jeans. "You're telling me that what I just felt was fucking Genesis? How? I thought he'd gone crazy. I heard someone shot him."

  "He's alive and he's sane," Calyx replied, trying his door to see if it would open. It did. "We need to get out of here."

  "Fuck that, I'm calling the captain and then we're waiting for back-up."

  "No! Don't call!" Calyx made a dive for Jake's PRU but Jake jumped out the other side of the craft. In a second, the man had Dickerson on the screen.

  "Sir, we've found Genesis!"

  If he weren't so concerned about their predicament, Calyx might have been amused by Jake's hysterical reaction. But Jake was right to fear: Genesis was no one they needed to play around with. Especially when it was just the two of them. He only wished Dickerson didn't have to know about it.