Posts tagged bear angst
Chris's Merry-Go-Round Muses
![spookyclaire:
“Why’d you do it?” Blaine stared hard at the table in front of him. He ignored the tight metal around his wrists and the sweat trailing down from his hairline. He ignored the blinding light above him and the two-way mirror that certainly hid people watching him. “I asked you a question, kid.”
“He deserved it.” Blaine whispered, voice barely audible.
“What?”
Blaine slowly glanced up from the table to the man, the cop, standing over him. “I said,” Blaine started, voice quivering but grave, “He deserved it.”
“He deserved it?” The cop repeated, slightly incredulous. “You beat a man to death.” Blaine stared straight ahead once again, saying nothing. “Did you hear me? He’s dead, kid. You’re going to go to jail for a long time!”
“It doesn’t matter.” Blaine said, voice still not above a whisper.
“It doesn’t matter? Kid, you’re twenty three – when you’re convicted? You’ve just lost almost your whole life! How does that not matter?”
“Because I have nothing to live for.” That time Blaine practically mouthed it, the words barely heard by himself. The cop paused, taking in Blaine and his appearance. With a sigh, the older man sat heavily into the chair across from Blaine.
“I’m listening, kid.”
Blaine looked to the cop for a minute before glancing down to his hands. “Two years ago, a man attacked my husband and me on our way home from a night out.” The cop sat back, face unreadable, “We were walking home from a nice dinner, and he just…came out of nowhere. He shot my husband and just…just ran. He didn’t take our wallets, didn’t do anything. He just shot my husband….because he was my husband.”
“Was.” The cop said slowly, “Your husband died.”
Blaine swallowed hard once again, reaching up his cuffed hands to wipe tears from his eyes. “Kurt was in a coma.” Blaine croaked, trying not to let a sob escape him, “He died earlier this week.” The cop sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. “The man – no – the monster I killed? He…he was the one who shot my husband. He killed my husband.”
The cop leaned forward once again, pressing his hand into the table. “How do you know it was him?”
Blaine looked back up at the cop, looking hard into his eyes. “I’ll never forget that face.” Leaning back, Blaine placed his cuffed hands back onto the table. “I don’t regret it, either.” He said, voice no longer a whisper. “I never will.”
[I’m not sorry, but I really wanted to continue this from the perspective of others, ‘cause my feels. Just a tiny bit. But if this ain’t cool with the original writer, I’ll take it down.]
It was completely surreal for the man on the other side of the glass, in that dark room with his partner. Listening to Anderson as he explained himself to Detective Kane. The kind of vigilantism that he always felt conflicted on as a kid, though he can’t afford to feel much on it anymore.
He thought that relocation meant things would be far better than being back in his stupid cow town, but his job had a fantastic way of reminding him exactly how despicable people are. That’s what he got for joining homicide.
But seeing this scenario before him was almost too hard for him right now. It had been since they arrested the guy. How the hell was he going to know that Blaine Anderson was in his city? How did he not know about Kurt Hummel? God, Kurt…
“Shit. Who would have thought they’d be here? …Dave?”
His knuckles were white and his lip ready to break and bleed under the pressure of his teeth when his partner spoke up.
“I don’t know if I can handle this case.”
“Hey. I’ll talk to Kane about it, but you know for the most part it’s over, right? That’s a really clean cut confession. Just paperwork and trial formalities, since Anderson owned up to it.”
Detective Dave Karofsky just looked at his partner, his expression wiping off the terrible attempt at an encouraging smile.
“Why didn’t you let me know they were here? You’ve been here for a year longer than I have.”
“Hey, I didn’t really know! And if I had, I’d have no clue how to go about giving you that information, man.” The other detective rubbed the back of his blond-brown hair a bit nervously. “I know this shit is hard to find out, especially this way. It is for me too, ok? But this is what you’re gonna do: You’re gonna finish up the hour, ‘cause it’s our fucking job and you’re good at it. We’re gonna call it a night. You’re gonna wake up James, ‘cause you’re gonna need to unload all those damn feelings you let get to you like you do.”
Dave smiled just a bit at the scenario, but of course his partner had to keep going like the smirky shit he is.
“And then you’re gonna fuck him into the mattress for the both of us, ‘cause fuck this shit.”
He frowned at the complete inappropriateness of his partner. “Oh, fuck you, man!”
“Hey, I keep asking to join, but two just will never let me.”
Kane looks at them from the glass, and they know it’s time to come out.
“Larsen and I will take Anderson, you go and talk to Kane, ok?”
Nodding, Dave opens the door and lets his partner go first.
“Hey, Sebastian?”
Detective Smythe paused in the corridor.
“Thanks.”
“No problem, Bear Cub.”](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7155ubOBi1qe4ztno1_500.png)
“Why’d you do it?” Blaine stared hard at the table in front of him. He ignored the tight metal around his wrists and the sweat trailing down from his hairline. He ignored the blinding light above him and the two-way mirror that certainly hid people watching him. “I asked you a question, kid.”
“He deserved it.” Blaine whispered, voice barely audible.
“What?”
Blaine slowly glanced up from the table to the man, the cop, standing over him. “I said,” Blaine started, voice quivering but grave, “He deserved it.”
“He deserved it?” The cop repeated, slightly incredulous. “You beat a man to death.” Blaine stared straight ahead once again, saying nothing. “Did you hear me? He’s dead, kid. You’re going to go to jail for a long time!”
“It doesn’t matter.” Blaine said, voice still not above a whisper.
“It doesn’t matter? Kid, you’re twenty three – when you’re convicted? You’ve just lost almost your whole life! How does that not matter?”
“Because I have nothing to live for.” That time Blaine practically mouthed it, the words barely heard by himself. The cop paused, taking in Blaine and his appearance. With a sigh, the older man sat heavily into the chair across from Blaine.
“I’m listening, kid.”
Blaine looked to the cop for a minute before glancing down to his hands. “Two years ago, a man attacked my husband and me on our way home from a night out.” The cop sat back, face unreadable, “We were walking home from a nice dinner, and he just…came out of nowhere. He shot my husband and just…just ran. He didn’t take our wallets, didn’t do anything. He just shot my husband….because he was my husband.”
“Was.” The cop said slowly, “Your husband died.”
Blaine swallowed hard once again, reaching up his cuffed hands to wipe tears from his eyes. “Kurt was in a coma.” Blaine croaked, trying not to let a sob escape him, “He died earlier this week.” The cop sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. “The man – no – the monster I killed? He…he was the one who shot my husband. He killed my husband.”
The cop leaned forward once again, pressing his hand into the table. “How do you know it was him?”
Blaine looked back up at the cop, looking hard into his eyes. “I’ll never forget that face.” Leaning back, Blaine placed his cuffed hands back onto the table. “I don’t regret it, either.” He said, voice no longer a whisper. “I never will.”
[I’m not sorry, but I really wanted to continue this from the perspective of others, ‘cause my feels. Just a tiny bit. But if this ain’t cool with the original writer, I’ll take it down.]
It was completely surreal for the man on the other side of the glass, in that dark room with his partner. Listening to Anderson as he explained himself to Detective Kane. The kind of vigilantism that he always felt conflicted on as a kid, though he can’t afford to feel much on it anymore.
He thought that relocation meant things would be far better than being back in his stupid cow town, but his job had a fantastic way of reminding him exactly how despicable people are. That’s what he got for joining homicide.
But seeing this scenario before him was almost too hard for him right now. It had been since they arrested the guy. How the hell was he going to know that Blaine Anderson was in his city? How did he not know about Kurt Hummel? God, Kurt…
“Shit. Who would have thought they’d be here? …Dave?”
His knuckles were white and his lip ready to break and bleed under the pressure of his teeth when his partner spoke up.
“I don’t know if I can handle this case.”
“Hey. I’ll talk to Kane about it, but you know for the most part it’s over, right? That’s a really clean cut confession. Just paperwork and trial formalities, since Anderson owned up to it.”
Detective Dave Karofsky just looked at his partner, his expression wiping off the terrible attempt at an encouraging smile.
“Why didn’t you let me know they were here? You’ve been here for a year longer than I have.”
“Hey, I didn’t really know! And if I had, I’d have no clue how to go about giving you that information, man.” The other detective rubbed the back of his blond-brown hair a bit nervously. “I know this shit is hard to find out, especially this way. It is for me too, ok? But this is what you’re gonna do: You’re gonna finish up the hour, ‘cause it’s our fucking job and you’re good at it. We’re gonna call it a night. You’re gonna wake up James, ‘cause you’re gonna need to unload all those damn feelings you let get to you like you do.”
Dave smiled just a bit at the scenario, but of course his partner had to keep going like the smirky shit he is.
“And then you’re gonna fuck him into the mattress for the both of us, ‘cause fuck this shit.”
He frowned at the complete inappropriateness of his partner. “Oh, fuck you, man!”
“Hey, I keep asking to join, but two just will never let me.”
Kane looks at them from the glass, and they know it’s time to come out.
“Larsen and I will take Anderson, you go and talk to Kane, ok?”
Nodding, Dave opens the door and lets his partner go first.
“Hey, Sebastian?”
Detective Smythe paused in the corridor.
“Thanks.”
“No problem, Bear Cub.”
