"Army Surplus" (Fear of Falling, 1987)
Aug. 16th, 2013 10:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
riptide_asylumTitle: Army Surplus
Rating: R
Summary: When a case goes wrong, Cody's caught in a violent flashback.
In the beginning, the flashbacks had come by day. Cody remembered them more vividly than war itself, sunlit streets turned dark, awash with blood, public parks turned tropic-lush, snipers hidden in their ornamental trees.
Most of all, the fear -- the stinking, overwhelming fear.
A decade later, and for the most part that was all over. There were still nightmares, but by day the past kept to itself for both him and Nick.
From time to time, there were exceptions. In their line of work, they could hardly avoid them. Cody had learned to see the signs in Nick, just as Nick knew when he was near the edge. Time out, a brief respite, and they could fight on. The fear lived on, but they controlled it. Harnessed it.
This time was different.
*
There was a cracked mirror, a dirty television, a single armchair. The bed purported to be a double but Cody thought he'd seen larger, sturdier cots in the army. The shaggy brown bedspread failed to make it look either more comfortable or more appealing, its loose threads and rumpled finish topping the room off perfectly.
There were basic coffee-making facilities on the far side of the room -- advertised as a 'kitchenette' -- and a private bath through a door at the rear.
Cody perched on the edge of the saggy bed, jittery. The apartment with Byron hadn't worked out. Being alone hadn't worked out. Being with Nick... being with Nick scared him senseless, sent his brain into overdrive. A perfect partnership in the jungle; here in the US they were abandoned ordnance, an unexploded bomb. Feral, hair-triggered, unpredictable.
Cody knew it -- Nick was his detonator, his fuse, his ammunition. Without Nick he was half-cocked, directionless, just another hunk of surplus army flotsam.
All that mattered now was for Nick to show.
And show Nick did.
Every minute of alone was written in his face as he walked through the door. Every spark of crazy Cody loved in those eyes was intensified, twisted. Tightened.
Just for a moment, Cody's heart flipped. Real fear slid in, cold and slick. Then Nick blinked, the pattern fell away, and Cody looked back into the eyes of his partner, his best friend. His fearless boy soldier.
Nick opened his arms. "God damn," he said succinctly. "It's been hard without you, man."
Cody hugged him hard. Nick's strength flowed into him, Nick's pain, Nick's fear, and Cody received them gladly. They were easier burdens than his own.
*
"Is he going to be okay?" Murray's voice, tight and filled with tension. Incongruous and unexpected, dragging Cody's mind from the past. He couldn't open his eyes, but he managed a whimper.
The hand that took his was comforting, but it wasn't Nick's. Cody came up with a second whimper, but nothing changed.
"Physically he's stable. As for the emotional impact -- " A voice Cody didn't know, fading in and out of focus. "Listen, Dr. Bozinsky. Once he's awake, there are tests -- you have to understand -- stress -- we may be talking about a psychotic break."
Murray's voice rose and Cody drew away. He needed Nick. But all around him he felt nothing but the dark.
*
Paradoxically, going back afforded them a measure of protection. The dress uniform of an MP was body armor against the past, the structure, control and discipline left the fear no place to go. Nowhere but the night, the dark, the spaces between shifts.
Cody knew they weren't the only ones carrying the dark. They saw it in their buddies, their superiors, the guys they arrested. Drugs, drinking, women -- none of it blotted out the past, all of it fucked up the present.
He and Nick weren't immune, but they had a greater defense. They had each other. Held close in the suffocating dark, cocooned together, they could -- and did -- ride out the worst of times.
"Think it's ever gonna stop, Nick?"
Nick, slick with sweat, wet with Cody's tears, shivering with reaction, smiled with a gentleness Cody knew was reserved for him alone. "I don't care if it doesn't, baby. You 'n me, we're stronger, you know? We're strong enough."
They were, because they had to be.
*
A hundred miles inland, Nick sat hunched in the back of a panel van. It had been stationary for a long time. Long enough to go from van to unimog to Huey and back again.
The dark was close -- Nick could smell the jungle waiting -- but if anything kept him in the present, it was the knowledge that Cody was unaccounted for. There'd been a warehouse, a chase, then a hail of bullets thicker even than anything they'd faced in Vietnam. In the thick of the fight, Nick had let his training take over, let the army do his thinking for him.
Then Cody had gone down, and Nick remembered nothing else until the van.
He was tied, but he knew already he could get free. What kept him in place was fear for Cody. He knew Cody had been hit; he didn't know how bad; he didn't know if even now, Cody was a prisoner, in need of medical help. If he escaped, broke out into the unknown, would Cody pay with his life?
The thought brought Nick out in a cold sweat. But as the time passed -- days, hours, minutes, Nick could no longer tell -- the fear that kept him still collapsed under the weight of the greater pain. No Cody.
He fought free of his bonds and broke out of the van, unaware of his raw wrists, ignoring the wrench in his shoulder from charging the van doors. The pain was nothing, there was nothing left but the fight. And first, he would find Cody.
*
Cody was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep. There was sound past the edge of hearing, unidentifiable yet constant. There was light, even though he could see nothing
And there was no Nick. It was the one thing he knew with any certainty; the one thing which would restore the world to its rightful order.
He was lying on a cot in a bare room, although he knew nothing of that. Murray Bozinsky stood, staring anxiously, at the one barred window into the room, but Cody didn't know that either, just as he had not known Murray, had not heard Murray, when the doctors had tried bringing Murray in.
Cody remembered nothing of the violent outburst that had led first to the restraints, and second to this bare, guarded room. There was a bullet-graze, heavily bandaged, across his right bicep, but Cody felt no pain from the wound.
Murray, watching, surmised all of that. From time to time a silent, white coated doctor would enter, clutching a chart. Check first the restraints which held Cody, then the bags which pumped fluid into his unresponsive body. Murray knew their opinions; for the Roboz, accessing a patient chart was simpler even than running a vehicle registration; knew they believed a psychoactive drug had stolen Cody's reason for good.
But Murray Bozinsky, the only person alive save Nick Ryder who could make any claim to knowing the complex, tortured man now strapped to a cot inside the cool bare room in front of him, yet dared to hope.
It was perfectly possible, if improbable, that the gang had slipped a psychotropic to Cody somehow. But Murray thought it far more likely that the burning warehouse, the shooting, the police choppers, combined with two nights of no sleep, had sent Cody into a violent flashback. The bullet wound, slight though it was, had been the last straw.
Cody had fought the paramedics wildly, but silently. When he'd gotten free, he'd ducked and run. To Murray, desk-soldier though he was, it had looked like war games. It had looked like Vietnam.
"I need Nick," Murray said fretfully, leaning the heel of his hand against the door. But Nick was missing, possibly worse.
From Murray's jacket pocket came a soft chirp, and he cautiously pulled out the Roboz' remote. The communication light was flashing. Unobtrusively he sauntered to the end of the hall, waited until the nurses' station was empty, and availed himself of the computer terminal.
The words that flipped up on the screen made him light headed. Patient Cody Allen scheduled for transfer to Cedar Ridge under secure hold, by order LAPD. Cedar Ridge was a maximum security mental institution and once in, Murray knew that getting Cody out would be anything but simple. "They'll pump him full of drugs, and then he really will be psychotic," Murray mumbled, hitting the off button and standing up. "Dammit, I need Nick, and I need the Mimi."
But neither was forthcoming. Squaring his shoulders, Murray marched down the hall. The Jimmy was downstairs in the lot, and here in the hospital, he had a number of resources at his disposal. He glanced at his watch. There wasn't much time.
*
Murray's plan was simple, even if it lacked the kind of detail he usually regarded as crucial. Get Cody out, hole up and find Nick. He'd taken care of the first by planting a bug into the hospital computer system -- as nurses and security alike gathered around the frozen, useless terminals, he'd unhooked Cody's IV lines and pushed him, bed and all, to the huge elevators meant for taking patients to surgery.
Fortunately, they went all the way to the basement loading docks. Down there, he dragged Cody off the bed and sent it back up to the ward.
Cody tried to curl up into a fetal position but Murray heaved him up, half-dragging, half-lifting, until he somehow got Cody down into the shadows of the nearest dock. It was poor shelter, but better than nothing.
"Wait there," Murray panted. "I'll get the car."
"Okay."
Murray was so exhausted, so stressed, he was starting the Jimmy before he realized Cody had answered him. He revved the vehicle across the lot and shot in beside the loading dock, then dived out of the cab to Cody's side.
"Cody... Cody, can you hear me?"
"Nick," Cody whispered.
It wasn't much, but Murray would take it. Cody's eyes were closed, but when Murray tugged his arm he staggered to his feet. "Not exactly lucid," Murray muttered, supporting Cody then pushing him into the Jimmy. "But it's better than catatonic."
He wheeled the Jimmy out of the hospital, burning rubber, and swung hard left, heading for King Harbor. They couldn't exactly go home -- it was the first place the authorities would look -- but somehow they had to find Nick.
They'd gone 30 miles, sticking to surface streets, and were getting close to the water when Cody spoke again. "Where are we, Boz?"
Murray glanced sideways. Cody's eyes were open and he looked both dazed and scared.
"L.A. Heading for King Harbor," Murray said grimly. "We ended up in a shootout. Nick's missing."
"Nick." Cody's adam's apple bobbed, and he gave a small nod. "I can't remember -- I don't know where we're going -- " He reached for the door handle.
Murray screeched the car to a stop and grabbed Cody's arm. "You're hurt," he said urgently. "Cody, you have to listen to me, okay? We have to stay together. You have to trust me."
For a moment, Murray thought Cody would panic. But then Cody dropped his gaze, gave a nod. "You can find Nick, right? We're gonna find him?"
"You know I can, Cody." Murray gunned the engine again, relief making him giddy. "C'mon."
***
But twenty-four hours later, holed up in a shady fleabag flophouse in the worst part of town, the Roboz orange and incongruous in the corner, Murray was starting to wonder if he was mistaken.
Cody was lucid for the most part, but although he knew his own name, knew Murray, knew they'd lost Nick, his grip on reality and on the present was tenuous at best. Cody had spent most of the night in the jungle, confused and scared by Murray's presence, desperately lost without Nick.
Murray understood that much. He was feeling a little the same way. Normally the three of them shared the caseload -- himself manning the computers, seeking out information, finding the questions to ask. Nick and Cody found the answers.
Now it was all up to him, and it had slowed the case to a crawl.
Murray turned away from another fruitless computer search. "Roboz, on. Scan the police channels!"
YES, MURRAY. The robot wheeled forward.
On the bed, Cody sat up suddenly, eyes wide. "They're coming!"
"They're not coming, Cody." Murray crossed to his partner's side, sat down on the bed, took Cody's hands. He'd lost count of how many times he'd reassured Cody in the last hour. "Get some rest. You're gonna need your strength to help me find Nick."
"Nick." Cody nodded distractedly. "Boz, is that you?"
"You know it's me," Murray said with a patience he didn't feel, and guided Cody back down on the bed. "Sleep. It's okay, I've got this watch covered."
"Okay," Cody agreed, and closed his eyes obediently. Murray patted his shoulder then turned back to the Roboz. Getting Cody out had been the right thing to do, the only thing to do, but without Nick, keeping Cody calm was proving to be a challenge Murray wasn't sure he was equal to.
"We have to find Nick, Roboz, and we have to do it fast."
Murray moved back to the computer terminal and hit the key sequence that brought the Roboz' findings up on screen. A murder downtown, two car thefts, an APB on himself and on Cody Allen. Murray sighed and shook his head. "We didn't do anything wrong," he muttered. "Do something useful instead, like find Nick!"
***
Nick, meanwhile, was doing his damnedest to prevent that from happening. He'd made it to the city in the van which had been his prison, finally abandoning the vehicle on the outskirts of Torrance. He'd walked, bummed a ride, then walked again, arriving at last at pier 56. Nick took up a position on a nearby bench seat to take stock of his surroundings.
He was exhausted, terrified for Cody, and not sure if he could trust his own reasoning. More than once since breaking out of the van he'd doubted his own location -- doubted the evidence of his eyes and ears, looked around instead for jungle, choppers, an army field base.
The sight of the Riptide, bright, clean and white, real, floating at her mooring, brought tears to his eyes. He'd wondered more than once if the boat was a dream.
Nick allowed himself a deep, shaky breath. He'd found his way back. Now all he had to do was find his partners. And that, if he was any judge, would be the harder job.
Cody was injured and in trouble, so the hospital would be the logical place to start. But Nick, still fragile himself, deeply distrustful of authority, had no desire to walk into a trap.
The first thing to do was find Murray.
***
Cody slipped down a dark alley, heart pounding. He didn't know what had happened -- didn't know where he was, not for sure -- but he knew he'd been hit. He'd figured the building for a VC stronghold, waited til his captor slept and tried the door.
But wherever he was, it wasn't Vietnam. Cody huddled into the meager shelter of a doorway, head down. He was in the States, that much was sure. His right arm was bandaged, and the raw pain and confused memories combined to tell him he'd been shot.
They declined to tell him anything else. "Nick," he muttered to himself. "Where the hell are you, pal?"
***
A deep, mournful bong from the Roboz dragged Murray from a sound sleep. He stared at the unfamiliar walls for a moment, then leaped for his terminal. Someone was on the Riptide -- someone had activated the security system.
Murray tapped keys frantically, trying to bring his cameras online. But they stubbornly refused to respond. Murray cursed, switching to the motion sensors.
As far as he could tell, there was only one person on board. One person in the aft cabin. "Nick," Murray muttered. "Cody! Cody, I think it's Nick!"
He swung around -- and stared in horror at Cody's empty bed. "Cody -- Cody! Now what the hell am I going to do?"
Murray made a frantic search of the immediate area around the motel, and found no sign of Cody. Heavy-hearted, he strode back into the unit and switched the Roboz to the police band. The cops were probably watching the Riptide. Maybe it was one of their own on board -- if not, Murray expected he'd shortly be hearing about an arrest.
*
"No more running, no more fighting." Cody remembered that. Nick saying those words, leaning on the scarred, stained formica counter in their tiny beachfront apartment, a single bare room furnished with a busted couch and their bedrolls in the corner.
That first night they hadn't had power or gas, made do with peanut butter sandwiches for dinner. But they'd had each other, in a small safe space, the two of them curled up tight under Cody's blankets, whispering together, holding on.
It had been perfect.
But something had changed; something had gone wrong. Cody's arm burned. The comforting dark, their small safe space, was nowhere to be found. Everywhere was light and noise, voices, faces. It was too much.
He tried to run, and when they stopped him, he fought. But there were too many of them. There was no way out.
Cody went limp against the hands that held him, and waited.
*
Murray arrived at pier 56 in time to see two uniforms escorting Nick toward a patrol car. Nick was disheveled and bruised but he was walking, and Murray allowed himself a half-second of relief at seeing his partner alive and relatively undamaged. He wasn't handcuffed -- Murray watched as one of the cops took Nick's arm. Nick shook him off with a look and the cop stepped back, watching warily.
"Okay," Murray said under his breath. "Nick was missing, but he's not wanted for anything. They were watching the boat for me and Cody."
He stepped back into the shelter of the buildings, hoping to escape observation, undecided whether to intervene.
The choice was taken out of his hands.
Heralded by shouts, a security guard, two of Straightaway's bouncers and an out-of-breath beat cop turned the corner and ran toward slip 7.
"We got ourselves a nutter," shouted the cop, waving at the guys escorting Nick. "Call for backup!"
As the two cops stood irresolute, Nick shrank back and Murray sidled forward for a better look. Confused shouting came from the pier's upper deck, and the runners came to a halt.
"Here he comes," said the security guard grimly. "Let's get him, guys."
As if on cue, a man burst into view, wild-eyed and sprinting away from the stairs. He was headed for the Riptide but as he saw the welcome party he froze in his tracks.
Only Murray heard Nick's strangled shout of "Cody!"
The bouncers and security guard started running again, and all three cops followed. Murray forgot about hiding, and flung himself at Nick.
Somehow he got in Nick's way, stopped his momentum, turned his friend away. It was quite a lot later that Murray realized there was no-one else, right then, who could have stopped Nick -- who Nick would have listened to.
Even with Murray, it was a close-run thing.
Nick grabbed Murray's arms. "They're after Cody. I have to -- "
"If you charge over there, they'll have all of us," Murray said grimly. "We'll save him, Nick, but we gotta get it right. Otherwise we'll be in even more trouble than we are already."
"So what are we going to do?" Nick looked hunted. Down the block came the high wail of a siren. "They're gonna get him..."
"They're not," Murray vowed. "Come on -- let's go!"
Nick started in Cody's wake, and stopped in frustration as Murray held his arm. "What now, Boz?"
"The Ebbtide," Murray said simply, and grinned.
Nick stared. He had no idea what the Boz had found to be happy about in this situation. "But we don't know where Cody's gonna go -- "
Murray's grin didn't waver and he started toward the speedboat. "Yup," he said. "We do."
*
They picked Cody up bare yards offshore, and Murray turned the nose of the boat seaward. They didn't have much time before the coastguard chopper would be in the air, but it was enough. After everything, they were together. It would have to be enough.
In the rear, Cody was limp in Nick's arms, breathing steadily enough but not talking. Murray risked a couple of glances over his shoulder, then gave his full attention to piloting the boat.
Both of his partners were in rough shape, but at least for now, neither of them was in immediate danger. The way Murray saw it, that was a distinct improvement on the past forty-eight hours.
Murray set a course for Fisherman's Island, then doubled back as soon as they were out of sight of the goons on shore. Hiding a boat the size of the Ebbtide in one of the large marinas on the coast was a hell of a lot easier than hiding it on Fisherman's Island.
They heard rotors but never saw the chopper. Breathing a sigh of relief, Murray slid the boat into Marina Del Rey.
"What now?" Nick asked, looking uneasily around. "This is a mistake, Murray. We're gonna be spotted, and Cody's -- "
"I know," Murray interrupted. "But he was lucid last night, at least part of the time. He's okay, Nick. Trust me."
Cody was leaning into Nick, looking at the floor. He gave no sign he'd heard Murray.
Nick gave a small nod and slid his arm around Cody. "I hope you're right. But still, they're gonna spot us and then -- "
"And then nothing." Murray allowed a sharp note to creep into his voice. "You think after all this, after I've finally found you and we're all together, I'm gonna let us walk into a trap? Give me a little credit, Nick!"
Nick blinked, then ran a hand over his unshaven jaw. "I'm scared, Boz," he admitted. "I don't see a way out, and I can't -- I can't let them take Cody right now."
"Yeah, I know," Murray said, more softly. "They locked him up already, Nick. He swung on the cops, tried to kill that stupid lieutenant in charge of the bust. They were gonna put him in Cedar Ridge."
Nick paled. "Cedar Ridge! If once they got him in there, I dunno what would happen to him."
"I know." Murray nodded tiredly. "That's why I busted him out."
"You -- " Nick stopped, staring from Murray to Cody. "But -- "
"He slipped away last night sometime," Murray continued as though Nick hadn't spoken. "He knew me, but he was out of it -- dissociative, maybe. He thought he was still in Vietnam. Most of all he wanted to find you."
Nick nodded, his arm tightening around his partner. "Yeah," he said huskily. "Boz, it's just -- Cody's been okay for years now, but when we first got back -- "
Murray leaned forward and nodded, his eyes bright. "It's okay, Nick. I figured it for PTSD, that's why I got him out. We're gonna find someplace safe where we can hole up and figure out what he needs."
"He just needs time." Nick shot a hunted glance at the sky. "And we're kinda short on that."
*
The space was tiny, smaller than the apartment. Smaller even than the cabins on the Riptide. A foxhole, maybe, only there was no smell, no dirt.
Nick was close, closer than ever. At last. Cody moved against him, reassuring himself of his partner's presence, and Nick spoke softly against his ear, words that were barely sounds at all.
They weren't running anymore. They weren't fighting.
Cody breathed deep and held on.
*
Night was falling when Murray returned to the Ebbtide. He approached cautiously, but there was no stakeout, no cops. He pulled the Roboz remote from his pocket and made a final check, then pushed a careful combination of keys.
Then he put the remote away, and gave a low, questioning whistle.
There was a soft knock from the Ebbtide's hull, and Murray busied himself stripping back the boat's cover.
Nick and Cody emerged from below. Well, Nick emerged, Murray corrected himself. Cody was asleep, and Nick heaved him into one of the bucket seats with a grunt of effort, then straightened up with difficulty.
"Great hiding place, huh, Nick?"
Nick eyed Murray with disfavor. "Next time, you try it out, okay? What's the plan?"
With a sharp bang, the marina lights went out. Nick jumped then grinned, and ruffled Murray's hair. "You're something else, Boz, you know that? Let me wake up Cody."
"Is he okay?" Murray shifted nervously from foot to foot.
Nick nodded. "Shaken, like you said, but nothing to worry about." He turned back to Cody, squatting down beside him.
Murray retreated a little way along the jetty, checking out the results of his handiwork. Over by the marina office torches bobbed as staff tried to restore power. The liveaboards showed lights, but the jetties and the edge of the pier itself were dark.
Murray nodded in satisfaction. Three guys leaving the marina under cover of darkness would be much harder to spot as the three on the evening news bulletin.
He turned back in time to see Nick helping Cody out of the boat. Cody stood for a moment as Nick secured the cover back in place, then allowed Nick to take his arm. He said something and Nick nodded, then they both headed for Murray.
*
A stolen car, and a short hike down a street whose streetlights had unaccountably suffered the same fate as the marina lights, and the three of them were safely ensconced in the same motel room Murray had left that morning. It seemed foolish to travel further than necessary. Plus, Murray had left the Roboz there, and his computer terminal.
He was sitting at the rickety table now, typing from time to time. The wall mounted TV flickered above, with shots of Pier 56 and the Riptide backing a woman reporter.
Murray doubted she was saying anything new, but didn't bother turning the volume up to check. They'd all watched an earlier bulletin, to discover Nick was missing, and Cody was considered dangerous. Murray had only been mentioned as an associate.
Murray had begun by being outraged, then realized (when Nick pointed it out) that his relative anonymity stood them in good stead. Even if he had been rather enjoying the role of master criminal.
There was a light knock on the door, and Murray jumped up. They'd ordered out for pizza, and Nick and Cody were closed in the small, grungy bathroom as the only hiding place the room offered.
Murray checked through the spyhole on the door, then passed bills to an ordinary-looking delivery guy. "Keep the change," he muttered, and slammed the door.
He heard the guy go whistling off, but even so, waited five minutes before tapping lightly on the bathroom door.
Nick came out first. His hair was wet and he was freshly shaven. His eyes lit up when he saw the pizza box. "Man, I'm starved."
Cody followed close. He looked unsettled, but the blank gaze was gone. He hadn't said much, but the way he stuck to Nick eased Murray's fears that he might slip away again.
They ate the pie in silence. Murray, observing the way Nick wolfed his portion down, passed him an extra slice.
"Are you sure?" Nick hesitated before picking it up.
"How long since you ate?" Murray raised an eyebrow.
Nick shook his head. "I'm not real clear on much. I don't even think I could tell you what day it is, you know?"
"It's -- " Murray had to stop and think himself. "The warehouse stakeout was Thursday night. That means it's gotta be Sunday. They put Cody in the hospital straight up, I busted him out Friday night and we came here. He slipped away sometime last night."
Nick rubbed his face and shot a glance at Cody. "I saw Cody get hit -- I broke cover then someone knocked me out. The gang must've grabbed me, I guess - I woke up in the back of a van someplace out of town. Took me a while to get my bearings -- I was scared to get loose at first, I didn't know where you guys were, I thought the gang might hurt you if I struggled. Then... when I pulled myself out, got my head kinda straightened out, I hot-wired the van and drove to King Harbor."
"And now we're together, we can get on with straightening out this mess." Cody spoke for the first time. "It's my fault. If I hadn't lost it, we'd be the good guys."
"Don't talk like that." Nick cut off Murray's protestations and slid an arm around Cody. "We're still the good guys. An' it's not your fault, it's the gang, and that stupid cop screwing up the timing. It's their fault."
"Maybe so, but if I'd held it together, we could've found you faster. We'd be home now, instead of in this place." Cody put his hands on the table and lowered his head, a tremor running through him, and fell silent.
"Cody, none of that's important now. What's important is we're all okay, and -- "
"Murray." Nick cut Murray off, shaking his head. "Not now, okay? He can't hear you anyhow." He stood up, hoisted Cody out of his seat and half carried him over to the bed.
Cody curled up immediately, semi-fetal, and Nick hauled his shoes off then pulled a blanket over him. He bent over, touching Cody lightly but not saying anything, then returned to the table.
"I thought he'd be okay once we found you," Murray said softly, brow creased with worry. "Should I call an ambulance after all?"
"He's okay." Nick sighed. "He's just taking a little time out, is all. Nothing a couple weeks on the water won't fix, you know?"
Murray nodded solemnly. "You know him best, Nick. My concern is, I don't know how soon we can go back to the Riptide. Maybe I oughtta think about fake passports, maybe a trip to Mexico."
Nick rubbed his eyes. "C'mon, Boz. We haven't done anything wrong. We just gotta figure out a way to get the cops to listen."
*
The next morning, Murray rose at dawn. He'd slept well, his first real night's sleep since the abortive stakeout, wrapped in a blanket on the couch while his partners occupied the single bed.
They were both still asleep, wound together in a tangle of limbs, the thin comforter half on the floor. Murray had a shrewd idea the sleeping arrangement he was seeing was often replicated in the aft cabin of the Riptide. He smiled to himself as he fired up his terminal and got the Roboz online, and began methodically hacking the police computer.
Convincing Joanna of their innocence was the easy part. Calling off the LAPD challenged even Murray's skills, but he wasn't the best in the business for nothing. He sat back at last, rubbing his hands in satisfaction, and found a steaming cup of coffee at his elbow, accompanied by Cody Allen, nursing a cup of his own.
"Cody!" Murray started, then thankfully picked up the coffee. "I sure could use this. Thanks!" He took a long swallow, staring at his partner as he did so.
Cody looked better than he had the previous night. He'd showered, and although he was still wearing Thursday's clothes, he somehow looked fresher.
Cody took a gulp from his own cup. "Thanks is all yours, Boz. If it wasn't for you -- man, we'd be up to our necks by now."
"You're my partners. Anyway, it's nothing to what you did for me -- you know, when Litvak tried to sell me to the Russians." Murray shivered. "C'mon, Cody, it's what we do -- look out for each other."
"Well, yeah." Cody nodded, and glanced over at the bed where Nick was still sleeping. "This is hard on him, Boz. He's torn up real bad."
Murray blinked. "I thought he was in better shape than you," he said frankly.
Cody shrugged and took a long breath. "He's just a better faker. Do me a favor, Murray, and hide the guns, okay?"
"If everything goes to plan, we're not gonna need them anyhow." Murray shrugged. "I've set up a meet with Joanna this afternoon. We'll have to do statements but I told her you were wounded -- I thought maybe I'd go alone, if that was gonna be best."
"I can manage." Cody squared his shoulders, glancing at Nick. "Nick will too. Just as long as no-one shoots at us, that is."
*
The statements went hard, but they went. As the afternoon wore on, Murray started to realize what Cody meant -- Nick was on a hair trigger, especially where Cody was concerned. Fortunately, Joanna allowed them all in the interview room at one time -- fortunately, because when the first cop on the scene had tried to take Cody in there alone, Nick had been moments away from decking the guy, and getting them all arrested on a whole new set of charges.
But Joanna seemed to understand, or at least was ready to listen, and at last all three statements were typed and signed. And at last, the bright red Jimmy was back in its accustomed place, and the three of them were walking down the companionway toward home.
It wasn't over, but they were no longer in danger of arrest, and everything else would take months to grind its plodding way through the legal system.
For now, they were free men.
Murray finished reinstalling the Roboz and his computers, then came upstairs. Nick was making a fresh pot of coffee; Cody was at the table, a magazine open in front of him. It was a scene like a thousand others, except for the dark shadows around Cody's eyes, the restless tension in the way Nick moved.
"Nick... didn't you say we'd take the boat out?"
Nick glanced at Cody, then at Murray. His eyes flashed a warning.
Cody looked up from the page, shrugged listlessly. "I'm too tired right now, Boz. Maybe next weekend, huh? And don't we have that surveillance job starting Wednesday?"
Murray blinked. "I canceled that, Cody. We need a few days to recover, don't you think?"
"We need cash." Cody rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Maybe I should go down to the hotel, see if I can find some tourists who want to go waterskiing -- "
"Cody, you were shot! You -- "
"It's only a scratch. One of us has gotta get on and find some work around here -- "
Nick put the coffee pot down and gestured at Murray to go below. Murray hesitated then backed toward the stairs. "Nick, he can't be serious. Friday, he was catatonic. We have to do something!"
"Leave him to me, Boz," Nick murmured.
Cody slammed his fist on the table and jumped up. He made to push past Nick and Nick turned into him, blocking him with his body, catching him with an arm around the chest. With his other hand, Nick waved at Murray again.
This time, Murray obeyed. Whatever was going on in the Riptide's salon, he didn't know how to help. All he could do was hope against hope that Nick did.
*
Several hours later, the thrum of the Riptide's diesels woke Murray from a catnap on his keyboard. He raised his head, blearily pushing his glasses back into place, and felt the roll of the boat meaning they were heading out into open water.
Murray allowed himself a smile of relief. Not that he'd doubted Nick's ability to manage Cody, exactly. It was just that the last week had given him a finer appreciation of how close the edge was.
He got stiffly up from his chair and headed abovedecks.
He found both his partners in the wheelhouse. Cody, looking both tired and chastened, had the tiller, and Nick was standing close at his side, hand resting on his back.
"Hey, guys," Murray said cautiously, emerging from the stairwell.
"Hey, Boz." This time, Nick greeted him with a real, wide smile. His hand moved gently on Cody's back.
Cody gave Murray a smile too, although he looked a little distracted. "We got enough provisions for a week, Murray? Nick wouldn't let me check." There was a tight note in his voice, but nothing of the earlier anger.
"Unless the cops took it, or Dooley's been aboard, we're set for a month," Murray said, a little surprised. "We stocked right up when we got paid for that last case, remember?"
"Oh, yeah." Cody grinned, a little sheepishly. "I guess Nick's right. I'm not thinking straight right now."
"How's that different from normal?" Nick teased. He left Cody's side, moving to lean against the wall.
Cody shot him a grin. "Hardly surprising, considering who I work with."
Murray went out onto the deck and leaned over the side. It was a perfect day. The wind in his face was just cool enough to be pleasant, and from inside, he could hear the soft banter as his partners fitted themselves back into their lives. Into his life.
Nick leaned out the door and grinned at him. "Thanks, Boz. For everything."
Murray thought back over the terrible stress of the past week, and grinned back. "It was my pleasure, Nick. All of it."
*
They spent the first couple of nights at anchor, well away from the shipping lanes, out of sight of land, and saw nothing save the occasional sea-bird. Cody slept most of the time, sometimes in his cabin, more often on the bench in the salon or out on deck.
Wherever he was, Nick was never more than a couple of feet away. Either sitting beside him, reading or fiddling with an engine part, or stretched out at his side, touching him at knee, hip and shoulder, and often in between as well.
It helped. It helped more than Cody could put into words. And each time he awoke, he saw the change in Nick's face, saw the watchfulness receding, notch by notch.
Murray stopped shooting them wary glances, walking on eggshells -- went back to whistling as he worked, and talking aloud to the Roboz. Things were getting back to normal on the Riptide.
Each evening, Nick checked Cody's wound, changed the dressing, then chased him below. Cody would have slept on deck if he'd had the chance, but Nick was too close to the edge himself. Cody knew it, knew that for Nick, the empty black water was filled with demons, so he submitted readily enough.
Pressed against the wall, with Nick curled close against him, between him and the door, Cody lay and let the present wash over him. He held Nick tight, safe against the dark, against the horrors that came in the night, and together they slept as they could not have done alone.
*
On the morning of the third day, Cody looked at the quiet wariness at the back of Nick's gaze, and the bored patience in Murray's eyes, and went forward and pulled the sea anchor.
Nick bounded up as Cody operated the winch. "What you doing, man? I don't think I'm ready for shore yet, you know?"
Cody listened with satisfaction to the heavy rattle of chain on the drum. "Who said anything about shore?" He flicked off the winch, checked the anchor was secure, and headed for the wheelhouse.
The secluded bay at Cooper's Island wasn't exactly a theme park, but compared to their previous anchorage, it offered a good deal more in the way of activities. The fishing was good, it was safe for swimming, and its location allowed Murray to access the satellites. And Nick was always more comfortable with land in sight.
"You love deep water," Nick murmured as Cody joined him on the wheelhouse deck.
"Yeah, I do," Cody agreed, handing Nick a beer. He'd finished tying the bow-line, checked the stern anchor, been to the head and stopped off in the galley for the beers, and it was the longest time in a week he'd been alone. "But I love this bay, too, and you and Murray were getting kinda bored."
"Was not."
Cody grinned. "Okay, Murray was getting bored, and you were getting cabin fever."
Nick snorted and took a long drink. "I like it better here than out there," he admitted. He was already more relaxed, Cody could see it in his eyes, in the set of his shoulders, and it was easy enough for Cody to coax him in for a swim to while away the afternoon.
*
Physically tired from the exercise and well fed on fresh fish, Nick and Cody slipped away to their cabin a little after sunset. Taking advantage of satellite access, Murray had the Roboz and a terminal in the salon, and was typing away at speed.
Cody, feeling refreshed and relaxed, was a little disappointed to see Nick yawning. But he headed below readily, knowing Nick would follow, determined Nick would rest as easy as he had himself when Nick stood watch.
"C'mon, big guy." Cody pulled Nick into their cabin and closed the door behind them. "You're wiped out. Lay down, an' let me rub you down."
Nick sat on the edge of his bunk, frowning slightly. "Your arm -- "
"Is fine. You fixed it up right after we swam, a couple hours back."
"I guess." Nick lay down, and gave a heartfelt moan as Cody went to work on his neck. "Man, that's tight. Cody, yeah."
"I know, babe." Cody did know. He knew the location of every stress-knot in Nick's neck, every tight place in his back. He also knew the best ways to bring Nick relief, exactly how Nick liked to be touched, how much pressure hurt, and how much reduced Nick to a quivering ball of jell-o. Pain-free jell-o.
That was his aim tonight, and he accomplished it more easily than he'd thought. Cody could feel Nick struggling to hold on to awareness, and he stroked his neck gently. "Go to sleep, baby. It's okay. You can let go, big guy. I got this."
Nick gave a soft sigh. "Shouldn't have to," he muttered. "My job. Keep you safe."
Cody's heart filled. He lay down close to Nick, half on top of him. Between Nick and the door. "Just this once, let me."
Nick gave a grunt which might have been assent and half-turned, curling into Cody's body. But when Cody awoke next morning, he was facing the wall, and Nick was close against his back, arms wrapped around his chest. Holding him tight, holding him safe.
Cody rolled over, unsurprised to find Nick already awake. "I wanted you to sleep all day," he murmured.
The corners of Nick's eyes crinkled. "Thought you were gonna."
"Done that already." Cody leaned in and took a soft kiss. "You can stand down, big guy."
"Maybe I don't wanna." Nick kissed Cody back, a little harder.
"Yeah, I know." Cody reached up and stroked Nick's cheek. "But what happened... it was just one of those things. Too much all at once. You know?"
"I know. But I shoulda been there -- they took you, Cody, they took you in that hospital and -- "
"And Boz busted me out." Cody kissed Nick again, effectively silencing him. "C'mon, babe. It's over. It's over, and we're still here."
"Yeah, I know." Nick still didn't look convinced.
"We're still here, and I still need you."
Nick's eyes kindled. "Need you too."
Cody lay back, gently tugging Nick on top of him. He needed Nick, he always would, but just as important, just as deep, was Nick's need for him.
Nick kissed him in earnest, every bit of the last week's fear and anguish and all the depth of his need coming through clear and strong. Cody stared into Nick's eyes, seeking out the lingering shadows, then kissed him back.
He put everything he had into the kiss -- the strength and safety he found in Nick, the love they shared. Nick shuddered in his arms, his own kiss turning fierce, hungry. Demanding.
It was everything Cody wanted.
*
The sun was high, and Murray already had several good-sized fish in his bucket by the time Nick and Cody came upstairs the next morning.
"This is a great spot," Murray said enthusiastically, reeling in another bite. "Nick, Cody, you'd better hurry up, I don't know if they'll bite through into the afternoon."
"They won't," Cody said, rubbing his eyes, and sank down onto the bench seat. "I'll put a line out once the sun gets lower. Looks like you've had a great morning, Boz."
"Sure have," Murray agreed, as Nick pulled a deck chair over and sat down as close to Cody as possible. They both looked sleepy, but the edgy tension was missing.
Murray landed his catch then sat forward. "You two look better." He waited, half-expecting anger.
But instead, Nick laid a hand on Cody's thigh. "We're doing okay," he agreed. "Any word on the case?"
"Sure, I had Roboz on the satellite first thing. They've got most of the gang in custody, and they found so much evidence it's unlikely they'll need our testimony. Plus, we're gonna get a small share in the reward. Isn't that boss?"
"It really is." Cody leaned back against Nick and swung his feet up to the seat. Nick moved over, resettling with an arm around Cody's ribs. "Glad we don't have to rush back to King Harbor."
Murray looked at his partners, relaxed in the spring sunshine, and had to admit he felt the same way. "Yeah, I think we could all use a vacation."
"You got that right." Nick sighed contentedly, his hand moving gently on Cody's chest. "Listen, Boz, I think you oughtta take the reward money. You been talking for months about upgrading the Roboz's modu-data-whatsit, and you oughtta go ahead and do it."
"His modal sonic data modulator," Murray mused, unable to suppress a thrill. "But wait, but what about your shares? Cody wanted to scrape the Riptide's hull and --"
"And nothing," Cody interrupted. "Nick did that for me a couple months back when he ran her aground on that jetty. I want you to take the money, Boz."
"I can't do that." Murray shook his head solemnly. "All for one and one for all. You need that cash too."
"We really don't." Nick sat up a little, making eye contact with Murray. His blue eyes were shadowed and serious. "What I need, Boz, I need Cody home and safe. All of us here where we belong, you know? And thanks to you, thanks to Roboz figuring stuff out and thanks to what you did, that's how this case turned out. If you couldn't hook into that inside information -- if you hadn't sprung Cody when you did --" Nick broke off, and Cody took his hand.
"See, Murray," Cody continued, looking out at the ocean. "You're the hero in this case. You made the plans, you found the information, you brought us back together. Then you squared everything with the cops so's we're not in jail right now. If anyone deserves this reward, it's you."
Murray opened his mouth to keep arguing but was forestalled by Nick's upraised hand. "Call it a gift, man. A gift from me and Cody to the Roboz. Okay?"
Murray looked from Nick to Cody. Nick was sitting forward, leaning over Cody, who was sprawled on the bench seat, his blond hair tousled, beads of sweat already starting on his shoulders. He flashed for an instant on Cody in the hospital, gray-faced, strapped down, helpless and alone. On Nick in the fleabag motel, worn and shattered, carrying an unresponsive Cody to the bed.
It could have all gone so very, very differently.
"Okay," he said quietly, and gave a small nod. "I'll take it. For the Roboz, that's all -- because with this upgrade we can work even smarter, even safer. And hopefully never get in a mess like this again."
"I'll second that," Cody agreed.
"I don't know how much the reward is gonna be," Murray warned. "But if there's any over after I've gotten the parts, it's yours."
"If there's any over, we're going to New Orleans," Nick said, leaning back in his chair and leaving one hand on Cody's ribs. "Like you said, Boz, we could use a vacation. I just got one request."
"What's that?" Cody asked lazily. His eyes were drifting closed.
"We gotta take the Roboz. I bet the little guy's hanging out for a vacation."
Murray chuckled and cast his line again. "The Roboz is gonna love it, guys."
Rating: R
Summary: When a case goes wrong, Cody's caught in a violent flashback.
In the beginning, the flashbacks had come by day. Cody remembered them more vividly than war itself, sunlit streets turned dark, awash with blood, public parks turned tropic-lush, snipers hidden in their ornamental trees.
Most of all, the fear -- the stinking, overwhelming fear.
A decade later, and for the most part that was all over. There were still nightmares, but by day the past kept to itself for both him and Nick.
From time to time, there were exceptions. In their line of work, they could hardly avoid them. Cody had learned to see the signs in Nick, just as Nick knew when he was near the edge. Time out, a brief respite, and they could fight on. The fear lived on, but they controlled it. Harnessed it.
This time was different.
*
There was a cracked mirror, a dirty television, a single armchair. The bed purported to be a double but Cody thought he'd seen larger, sturdier cots in the army. The shaggy brown bedspread failed to make it look either more comfortable or more appealing, its loose threads and rumpled finish topping the room off perfectly.
There were basic coffee-making facilities on the far side of the room -- advertised as a 'kitchenette' -- and a private bath through a door at the rear.
Cody perched on the edge of the saggy bed, jittery. The apartment with Byron hadn't worked out. Being alone hadn't worked out. Being with Nick... being with Nick scared him senseless, sent his brain into overdrive. A perfect partnership in the jungle; here in the US they were abandoned ordnance, an unexploded bomb. Feral, hair-triggered, unpredictable.
Cody knew it -- Nick was his detonator, his fuse, his ammunition. Without Nick he was half-cocked, directionless, just another hunk of surplus army flotsam.
All that mattered now was for Nick to show.
And show Nick did.
Every minute of alone was written in his face as he walked through the door. Every spark of crazy Cody loved in those eyes was intensified, twisted. Tightened.
Just for a moment, Cody's heart flipped. Real fear slid in, cold and slick. Then Nick blinked, the pattern fell away, and Cody looked back into the eyes of his partner, his best friend. His fearless boy soldier.
Nick opened his arms. "God damn," he said succinctly. "It's been hard without you, man."
Cody hugged him hard. Nick's strength flowed into him, Nick's pain, Nick's fear, and Cody received them gladly. They were easier burdens than his own.
*
"Is he going to be okay?" Murray's voice, tight and filled with tension. Incongruous and unexpected, dragging Cody's mind from the past. He couldn't open his eyes, but he managed a whimper.
The hand that took his was comforting, but it wasn't Nick's. Cody came up with a second whimper, but nothing changed.
"Physically he's stable. As for the emotional impact -- " A voice Cody didn't know, fading in and out of focus. "Listen, Dr. Bozinsky. Once he's awake, there are tests -- you have to understand -- stress -- we may be talking about a psychotic break."
Murray's voice rose and Cody drew away. He needed Nick. But all around him he felt nothing but the dark.
*
Paradoxically, going back afforded them a measure of protection. The dress uniform of an MP was body armor against the past, the structure, control and discipline left the fear no place to go. Nowhere but the night, the dark, the spaces between shifts.
Cody knew they weren't the only ones carrying the dark. They saw it in their buddies, their superiors, the guys they arrested. Drugs, drinking, women -- none of it blotted out the past, all of it fucked up the present.
He and Nick weren't immune, but they had a greater defense. They had each other. Held close in the suffocating dark, cocooned together, they could -- and did -- ride out the worst of times.
"Think it's ever gonna stop, Nick?"
Nick, slick with sweat, wet with Cody's tears, shivering with reaction, smiled with a gentleness Cody knew was reserved for him alone. "I don't care if it doesn't, baby. You 'n me, we're stronger, you know? We're strong enough."
They were, because they had to be.
*
A hundred miles inland, Nick sat hunched in the back of a panel van. It had been stationary for a long time. Long enough to go from van to unimog to Huey and back again.
The dark was close -- Nick could smell the jungle waiting -- but if anything kept him in the present, it was the knowledge that Cody was unaccounted for. There'd been a warehouse, a chase, then a hail of bullets thicker even than anything they'd faced in Vietnam. In the thick of the fight, Nick had let his training take over, let the army do his thinking for him.
Then Cody had gone down, and Nick remembered nothing else until the van.
He was tied, but he knew already he could get free. What kept him in place was fear for Cody. He knew Cody had been hit; he didn't know how bad; he didn't know if even now, Cody was a prisoner, in need of medical help. If he escaped, broke out into the unknown, would Cody pay with his life?
The thought brought Nick out in a cold sweat. But as the time passed -- days, hours, minutes, Nick could no longer tell -- the fear that kept him still collapsed under the weight of the greater pain. No Cody.
He fought free of his bonds and broke out of the van, unaware of his raw wrists, ignoring the wrench in his shoulder from charging the van doors. The pain was nothing, there was nothing left but the fight. And first, he would find Cody.
*
Cody was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep. There was sound past the edge of hearing, unidentifiable yet constant. There was light, even though he could see nothing
And there was no Nick. It was the one thing he knew with any certainty; the one thing which would restore the world to its rightful order.
He was lying on a cot in a bare room, although he knew nothing of that. Murray Bozinsky stood, staring anxiously, at the one barred window into the room, but Cody didn't know that either, just as he had not known Murray, had not heard Murray, when the doctors had tried bringing Murray in.
Cody remembered nothing of the violent outburst that had led first to the restraints, and second to this bare, guarded room. There was a bullet-graze, heavily bandaged, across his right bicep, but Cody felt no pain from the wound.
Murray, watching, surmised all of that. From time to time a silent, white coated doctor would enter, clutching a chart. Check first the restraints which held Cody, then the bags which pumped fluid into his unresponsive body. Murray knew their opinions; for the Roboz, accessing a patient chart was simpler even than running a vehicle registration; knew they believed a psychoactive drug had stolen Cody's reason for good.
But Murray Bozinsky, the only person alive save Nick Ryder who could make any claim to knowing the complex, tortured man now strapped to a cot inside the cool bare room in front of him, yet dared to hope.
It was perfectly possible, if improbable, that the gang had slipped a psychotropic to Cody somehow. But Murray thought it far more likely that the burning warehouse, the shooting, the police choppers, combined with two nights of no sleep, had sent Cody into a violent flashback. The bullet wound, slight though it was, had been the last straw.
Cody had fought the paramedics wildly, but silently. When he'd gotten free, he'd ducked and run. To Murray, desk-soldier though he was, it had looked like war games. It had looked like Vietnam.
"I need Nick," Murray said fretfully, leaning the heel of his hand against the door. But Nick was missing, possibly worse.
From Murray's jacket pocket came a soft chirp, and he cautiously pulled out the Roboz' remote. The communication light was flashing. Unobtrusively he sauntered to the end of the hall, waited until the nurses' station was empty, and availed himself of the computer terminal.
The words that flipped up on the screen made him light headed. Patient Cody Allen scheduled for transfer to Cedar Ridge under secure hold, by order LAPD. Cedar Ridge was a maximum security mental institution and once in, Murray knew that getting Cody out would be anything but simple. "They'll pump him full of drugs, and then he really will be psychotic," Murray mumbled, hitting the off button and standing up. "Dammit, I need Nick, and I need the Mimi."
But neither was forthcoming. Squaring his shoulders, Murray marched down the hall. The Jimmy was downstairs in the lot, and here in the hospital, he had a number of resources at his disposal. He glanced at his watch. There wasn't much time.
*
Murray's plan was simple, even if it lacked the kind of detail he usually regarded as crucial. Get Cody out, hole up and find Nick. He'd taken care of the first by planting a bug into the hospital computer system -- as nurses and security alike gathered around the frozen, useless terminals, he'd unhooked Cody's IV lines and pushed him, bed and all, to the huge elevators meant for taking patients to surgery.
Fortunately, they went all the way to the basement loading docks. Down there, he dragged Cody off the bed and sent it back up to the ward.
Cody tried to curl up into a fetal position but Murray heaved him up, half-dragging, half-lifting, until he somehow got Cody down into the shadows of the nearest dock. It was poor shelter, but better than nothing.
"Wait there," Murray panted. "I'll get the car."
"Okay."
Murray was so exhausted, so stressed, he was starting the Jimmy before he realized Cody had answered him. He revved the vehicle across the lot and shot in beside the loading dock, then dived out of the cab to Cody's side.
"Cody... Cody, can you hear me?"
"Nick," Cody whispered.
It wasn't much, but Murray would take it. Cody's eyes were closed, but when Murray tugged his arm he staggered to his feet. "Not exactly lucid," Murray muttered, supporting Cody then pushing him into the Jimmy. "But it's better than catatonic."
He wheeled the Jimmy out of the hospital, burning rubber, and swung hard left, heading for King Harbor. They couldn't exactly go home -- it was the first place the authorities would look -- but somehow they had to find Nick.
They'd gone 30 miles, sticking to surface streets, and were getting close to the water when Cody spoke again. "Where are we, Boz?"
Murray glanced sideways. Cody's eyes were open and he looked both dazed and scared.
"L.A. Heading for King Harbor," Murray said grimly. "We ended up in a shootout. Nick's missing."
"Nick." Cody's adam's apple bobbed, and he gave a small nod. "I can't remember -- I don't know where we're going -- " He reached for the door handle.
Murray screeched the car to a stop and grabbed Cody's arm. "You're hurt," he said urgently. "Cody, you have to listen to me, okay? We have to stay together. You have to trust me."
For a moment, Murray thought Cody would panic. But then Cody dropped his gaze, gave a nod. "You can find Nick, right? We're gonna find him?"
"You know I can, Cody." Murray gunned the engine again, relief making him giddy. "C'mon."
***
But twenty-four hours later, holed up in a shady fleabag flophouse in the worst part of town, the Roboz orange and incongruous in the corner, Murray was starting to wonder if he was mistaken.
Cody was lucid for the most part, but although he knew his own name, knew Murray, knew they'd lost Nick, his grip on reality and on the present was tenuous at best. Cody had spent most of the night in the jungle, confused and scared by Murray's presence, desperately lost without Nick.
Murray understood that much. He was feeling a little the same way. Normally the three of them shared the caseload -- himself manning the computers, seeking out information, finding the questions to ask. Nick and Cody found the answers.
Now it was all up to him, and it had slowed the case to a crawl.
Murray turned away from another fruitless computer search. "Roboz, on. Scan the police channels!"
YES, MURRAY. The robot wheeled forward.
On the bed, Cody sat up suddenly, eyes wide. "They're coming!"
"They're not coming, Cody." Murray crossed to his partner's side, sat down on the bed, took Cody's hands. He'd lost count of how many times he'd reassured Cody in the last hour. "Get some rest. You're gonna need your strength to help me find Nick."
"Nick." Cody nodded distractedly. "Boz, is that you?"
"You know it's me," Murray said with a patience he didn't feel, and guided Cody back down on the bed. "Sleep. It's okay, I've got this watch covered."
"Okay," Cody agreed, and closed his eyes obediently. Murray patted his shoulder then turned back to the Roboz. Getting Cody out had been the right thing to do, the only thing to do, but without Nick, keeping Cody calm was proving to be a challenge Murray wasn't sure he was equal to.
"We have to find Nick, Roboz, and we have to do it fast."
Murray moved back to the computer terminal and hit the key sequence that brought the Roboz' findings up on screen. A murder downtown, two car thefts, an APB on himself and on Cody Allen. Murray sighed and shook his head. "We didn't do anything wrong," he muttered. "Do something useful instead, like find Nick!"
***
Nick, meanwhile, was doing his damnedest to prevent that from happening. He'd made it to the city in the van which had been his prison, finally abandoning the vehicle on the outskirts of Torrance. He'd walked, bummed a ride, then walked again, arriving at last at pier 56. Nick took up a position on a nearby bench seat to take stock of his surroundings.
He was exhausted, terrified for Cody, and not sure if he could trust his own reasoning. More than once since breaking out of the van he'd doubted his own location -- doubted the evidence of his eyes and ears, looked around instead for jungle, choppers, an army field base.
The sight of the Riptide, bright, clean and white, real, floating at her mooring, brought tears to his eyes. He'd wondered more than once if the boat was a dream.
Nick allowed himself a deep, shaky breath. He'd found his way back. Now all he had to do was find his partners. And that, if he was any judge, would be the harder job.
Cody was injured and in trouble, so the hospital would be the logical place to start. But Nick, still fragile himself, deeply distrustful of authority, had no desire to walk into a trap.
The first thing to do was find Murray.
***
Cody slipped down a dark alley, heart pounding. He didn't know what had happened -- didn't know where he was, not for sure -- but he knew he'd been hit. He'd figured the building for a VC stronghold, waited til his captor slept and tried the door.
But wherever he was, it wasn't Vietnam. Cody huddled into the meager shelter of a doorway, head down. He was in the States, that much was sure. His right arm was bandaged, and the raw pain and confused memories combined to tell him he'd been shot.
They declined to tell him anything else. "Nick," he muttered to himself. "Where the hell are you, pal?"
***
A deep, mournful bong from the Roboz dragged Murray from a sound sleep. He stared at the unfamiliar walls for a moment, then leaped for his terminal. Someone was on the Riptide -- someone had activated the security system.
Murray tapped keys frantically, trying to bring his cameras online. But they stubbornly refused to respond. Murray cursed, switching to the motion sensors.
As far as he could tell, there was only one person on board. One person in the aft cabin. "Nick," Murray muttered. "Cody! Cody, I think it's Nick!"
He swung around -- and stared in horror at Cody's empty bed. "Cody -- Cody! Now what the hell am I going to do?"
Murray made a frantic search of the immediate area around the motel, and found no sign of Cody. Heavy-hearted, he strode back into the unit and switched the Roboz to the police band. The cops were probably watching the Riptide. Maybe it was one of their own on board -- if not, Murray expected he'd shortly be hearing about an arrest.
*
"No more running, no more fighting." Cody remembered that. Nick saying those words, leaning on the scarred, stained formica counter in their tiny beachfront apartment, a single bare room furnished with a busted couch and their bedrolls in the corner.
That first night they hadn't had power or gas, made do with peanut butter sandwiches for dinner. But they'd had each other, in a small safe space, the two of them curled up tight under Cody's blankets, whispering together, holding on.
It had been perfect.
But something had changed; something had gone wrong. Cody's arm burned. The comforting dark, their small safe space, was nowhere to be found. Everywhere was light and noise, voices, faces. It was too much.
He tried to run, and when they stopped him, he fought. But there were too many of them. There was no way out.
Cody went limp against the hands that held him, and waited.
*
Murray arrived at pier 56 in time to see two uniforms escorting Nick toward a patrol car. Nick was disheveled and bruised but he was walking, and Murray allowed himself a half-second of relief at seeing his partner alive and relatively undamaged. He wasn't handcuffed -- Murray watched as one of the cops took Nick's arm. Nick shook him off with a look and the cop stepped back, watching warily.
"Okay," Murray said under his breath. "Nick was missing, but he's not wanted for anything. They were watching the boat for me and Cody."
He stepped back into the shelter of the buildings, hoping to escape observation, undecided whether to intervene.
The choice was taken out of his hands.
Heralded by shouts, a security guard, two of Straightaway's bouncers and an out-of-breath beat cop turned the corner and ran toward slip 7.
"We got ourselves a nutter," shouted the cop, waving at the guys escorting Nick. "Call for backup!"
As the two cops stood irresolute, Nick shrank back and Murray sidled forward for a better look. Confused shouting came from the pier's upper deck, and the runners came to a halt.
"Here he comes," said the security guard grimly. "Let's get him, guys."
As if on cue, a man burst into view, wild-eyed and sprinting away from the stairs. He was headed for the Riptide but as he saw the welcome party he froze in his tracks.
Only Murray heard Nick's strangled shout of "Cody!"
The bouncers and security guard started running again, and all three cops followed. Murray forgot about hiding, and flung himself at Nick.
Somehow he got in Nick's way, stopped his momentum, turned his friend away. It was quite a lot later that Murray realized there was no-one else, right then, who could have stopped Nick -- who Nick would have listened to.
Even with Murray, it was a close-run thing.
Nick grabbed Murray's arms. "They're after Cody. I have to -- "
"If you charge over there, they'll have all of us," Murray said grimly. "We'll save him, Nick, but we gotta get it right. Otherwise we'll be in even more trouble than we are already."
"So what are we going to do?" Nick looked hunted. Down the block came the high wail of a siren. "They're gonna get him..."
"They're not," Murray vowed. "Come on -- let's go!"
Nick started in Cody's wake, and stopped in frustration as Murray held his arm. "What now, Boz?"
"The Ebbtide," Murray said simply, and grinned.
Nick stared. He had no idea what the Boz had found to be happy about in this situation. "But we don't know where Cody's gonna go -- "
Murray's grin didn't waver and he started toward the speedboat. "Yup," he said. "We do."
*
They picked Cody up bare yards offshore, and Murray turned the nose of the boat seaward. They didn't have much time before the coastguard chopper would be in the air, but it was enough. After everything, they were together. It would have to be enough.
In the rear, Cody was limp in Nick's arms, breathing steadily enough but not talking. Murray risked a couple of glances over his shoulder, then gave his full attention to piloting the boat.
Both of his partners were in rough shape, but at least for now, neither of them was in immediate danger. The way Murray saw it, that was a distinct improvement on the past forty-eight hours.
Murray set a course for Fisherman's Island, then doubled back as soon as they were out of sight of the goons on shore. Hiding a boat the size of the Ebbtide in one of the large marinas on the coast was a hell of a lot easier than hiding it on Fisherman's Island.
They heard rotors but never saw the chopper. Breathing a sigh of relief, Murray slid the boat into Marina Del Rey.
"What now?" Nick asked, looking uneasily around. "This is a mistake, Murray. We're gonna be spotted, and Cody's -- "
"I know," Murray interrupted. "But he was lucid last night, at least part of the time. He's okay, Nick. Trust me."
Cody was leaning into Nick, looking at the floor. He gave no sign he'd heard Murray.
Nick gave a small nod and slid his arm around Cody. "I hope you're right. But still, they're gonna spot us and then -- "
"And then nothing." Murray allowed a sharp note to creep into his voice. "You think after all this, after I've finally found you and we're all together, I'm gonna let us walk into a trap? Give me a little credit, Nick!"
Nick blinked, then ran a hand over his unshaven jaw. "I'm scared, Boz," he admitted. "I don't see a way out, and I can't -- I can't let them take Cody right now."
"Yeah, I know," Murray said, more softly. "They locked him up already, Nick. He swung on the cops, tried to kill that stupid lieutenant in charge of the bust. They were gonna put him in Cedar Ridge."
Nick paled. "Cedar Ridge! If once they got him in there, I dunno what would happen to him."
"I know." Murray nodded tiredly. "That's why I busted him out."
"You -- " Nick stopped, staring from Murray to Cody. "But -- "
"He slipped away last night sometime," Murray continued as though Nick hadn't spoken. "He knew me, but he was out of it -- dissociative, maybe. He thought he was still in Vietnam. Most of all he wanted to find you."
Nick nodded, his arm tightening around his partner. "Yeah," he said huskily. "Boz, it's just -- Cody's been okay for years now, but when we first got back -- "
Murray leaned forward and nodded, his eyes bright. "It's okay, Nick. I figured it for PTSD, that's why I got him out. We're gonna find someplace safe where we can hole up and figure out what he needs."
"He just needs time." Nick shot a hunted glance at the sky. "And we're kinda short on that."
*
The space was tiny, smaller than the apartment. Smaller even than the cabins on the Riptide. A foxhole, maybe, only there was no smell, no dirt.
Nick was close, closer than ever. At last. Cody moved against him, reassuring himself of his partner's presence, and Nick spoke softly against his ear, words that were barely sounds at all.
They weren't running anymore. They weren't fighting.
Cody breathed deep and held on.
*
Night was falling when Murray returned to the Ebbtide. He approached cautiously, but there was no stakeout, no cops. He pulled the Roboz remote from his pocket and made a final check, then pushed a careful combination of keys.
Then he put the remote away, and gave a low, questioning whistle.
There was a soft knock from the Ebbtide's hull, and Murray busied himself stripping back the boat's cover.
Nick and Cody emerged from below. Well, Nick emerged, Murray corrected himself. Cody was asleep, and Nick heaved him into one of the bucket seats with a grunt of effort, then straightened up with difficulty.
"Great hiding place, huh, Nick?"
Nick eyed Murray with disfavor. "Next time, you try it out, okay? What's the plan?"
With a sharp bang, the marina lights went out. Nick jumped then grinned, and ruffled Murray's hair. "You're something else, Boz, you know that? Let me wake up Cody."
"Is he okay?" Murray shifted nervously from foot to foot.
Nick nodded. "Shaken, like you said, but nothing to worry about." He turned back to Cody, squatting down beside him.
Murray retreated a little way along the jetty, checking out the results of his handiwork. Over by the marina office torches bobbed as staff tried to restore power. The liveaboards showed lights, but the jetties and the edge of the pier itself were dark.
Murray nodded in satisfaction. Three guys leaving the marina under cover of darkness would be much harder to spot as the three on the evening news bulletin.
He turned back in time to see Nick helping Cody out of the boat. Cody stood for a moment as Nick secured the cover back in place, then allowed Nick to take his arm. He said something and Nick nodded, then they both headed for Murray.
*
A stolen car, and a short hike down a street whose streetlights had unaccountably suffered the same fate as the marina lights, and the three of them were safely ensconced in the same motel room Murray had left that morning. It seemed foolish to travel further than necessary. Plus, Murray had left the Roboz there, and his computer terminal.
He was sitting at the rickety table now, typing from time to time. The wall mounted TV flickered above, with shots of Pier 56 and the Riptide backing a woman reporter.
Murray doubted she was saying anything new, but didn't bother turning the volume up to check. They'd all watched an earlier bulletin, to discover Nick was missing, and Cody was considered dangerous. Murray had only been mentioned as an associate.
Murray had begun by being outraged, then realized (when Nick pointed it out) that his relative anonymity stood them in good stead. Even if he had been rather enjoying the role of master criminal.
There was a light knock on the door, and Murray jumped up. They'd ordered out for pizza, and Nick and Cody were closed in the small, grungy bathroom as the only hiding place the room offered.
Murray checked through the spyhole on the door, then passed bills to an ordinary-looking delivery guy. "Keep the change," he muttered, and slammed the door.
He heard the guy go whistling off, but even so, waited five minutes before tapping lightly on the bathroom door.
Nick came out first. His hair was wet and he was freshly shaven. His eyes lit up when he saw the pizza box. "Man, I'm starved."
Cody followed close. He looked unsettled, but the blank gaze was gone. He hadn't said much, but the way he stuck to Nick eased Murray's fears that he might slip away again.
They ate the pie in silence. Murray, observing the way Nick wolfed his portion down, passed him an extra slice.
"Are you sure?" Nick hesitated before picking it up.
"How long since you ate?" Murray raised an eyebrow.
Nick shook his head. "I'm not real clear on much. I don't even think I could tell you what day it is, you know?"
"It's -- " Murray had to stop and think himself. "The warehouse stakeout was Thursday night. That means it's gotta be Sunday. They put Cody in the hospital straight up, I busted him out Friday night and we came here. He slipped away sometime last night."
Nick rubbed his face and shot a glance at Cody. "I saw Cody get hit -- I broke cover then someone knocked me out. The gang must've grabbed me, I guess - I woke up in the back of a van someplace out of town. Took me a while to get my bearings -- I was scared to get loose at first, I didn't know where you guys were, I thought the gang might hurt you if I struggled. Then... when I pulled myself out, got my head kinda straightened out, I hot-wired the van and drove to King Harbor."
"And now we're together, we can get on with straightening out this mess." Cody spoke for the first time. "It's my fault. If I hadn't lost it, we'd be the good guys."
"Don't talk like that." Nick cut off Murray's protestations and slid an arm around Cody. "We're still the good guys. An' it's not your fault, it's the gang, and that stupid cop screwing up the timing. It's their fault."
"Maybe so, but if I'd held it together, we could've found you faster. We'd be home now, instead of in this place." Cody put his hands on the table and lowered his head, a tremor running through him, and fell silent.
"Cody, none of that's important now. What's important is we're all okay, and -- "
"Murray." Nick cut Murray off, shaking his head. "Not now, okay? He can't hear you anyhow." He stood up, hoisted Cody out of his seat and half carried him over to the bed.
Cody curled up immediately, semi-fetal, and Nick hauled his shoes off then pulled a blanket over him. He bent over, touching Cody lightly but not saying anything, then returned to the table.
"I thought he'd be okay once we found you," Murray said softly, brow creased with worry. "Should I call an ambulance after all?"
"He's okay." Nick sighed. "He's just taking a little time out, is all. Nothing a couple weeks on the water won't fix, you know?"
Murray nodded solemnly. "You know him best, Nick. My concern is, I don't know how soon we can go back to the Riptide. Maybe I oughtta think about fake passports, maybe a trip to Mexico."
Nick rubbed his eyes. "C'mon, Boz. We haven't done anything wrong. We just gotta figure out a way to get the cops to listen."
*
The next morning, Murray rose at dawn. He'd slept well, his first real night's sleep since the abortive stakeout, wrapped in a blanket on the couch while his partners occupied the single bed.
They were both still asleep, wound together in a tangle of limbs, the thin comforter half on the floor. Murray had a shrewd idea the sleeping arrangement he was seeing was often replicated in the aft cabin of the Riptide. He smiled to himself as he fired up his terminal and got the Roboz online, and began methodically hacking the police computer.
Convincing Joanna of their innocence was the easy part. Calling off the LAPD challenged even Murray's skills, but he wasn't the best in the business for nothing. He sat back at last, rubbing his hands in satisfaction, and found a steaming cup of coffee at his elbow, accompanied by Cody Allen, nursing a cup of his own.
"Cody!" Murray started, then thankfully picked up the coffee. "I sure could use this. Thanks!" He took a long swallow, staring at his partner as he did so.
Cody looked better than he had the previous night. He'd showered, and although he was still wearing Thursday's clothes, he somehow looked fresher.
Cody took a gulp from his own cup. "Thanks is all yours, Boz. If it wasn't for you -- man, we'd be up to our necks by now."
"You're my partners. Anyway, it's nothing to what you did for me -- you know, when Litvak tried to sell me to the Russians." Murray shivered. "C'mon, Cody, it's what we do -- look out for each other."
"Well, yeah." Cody nodded, and glanced over at the bed where Nick was still sleeping. "This is hard on him, Boz. He's torn up real bad."
Murray blinked. "I thought he was in better shape than you," he said frankly.
Cody shrugged and took a long breath. "He's just a better faker. Do me a favor, Murray, and hide the guns, okay?"
"If everything goes to plan, we're not gonna need them anyhow." Murray shrugged. "I've set up a meet with Joanna this afternoon. We'll have to do statements but I told her you were wounded -- I thought maybe I'd go alone, if that was gonna be best."
"I can manage." Cody squared his shoulders, glancing at Nick. "Nick will too. Just as long as no-one shoots at us, that is."
*
The statements went hard, but they went. As the afternoon wore on, Murray started to realize what Cody meant -- Nick was on a hair trigger, especially where Cody was concerned. Fortunately, Joanna allowed them all in the interview room at one time -- fortunately, because when the first cop on the scene had tried to take Cody in there alone, Nick had been moments away from decking the guy, and getting them all arrested on a whole new set of charges.
But Joanna seemed to understand, or at least was ready to listen, and at last all three statements were typed and signed. And at last, the bright red Jimmy was back in its accustomed place, and the three of them were walking down the companionway toward home.
It wasn't over, but they were no longer in danger of arrest, and everything else would take months to grind its plodding way through the legal system.
For now, they were free men.
Murray finished reinstalling the Roboz and his computers, then came upstairs. Nick was making a fresh pot of coffee; Cody was at the table, a magazine open in front of him. It was a scene like a thousand others, except for the dark shadows around Cody's eyes, the restless tension in the way Nick moved.
"Nick... didn't you say we'd take the boat out?"
Nick glanced at Cody, then at Murray. His eyes flashed a warning.
Cody looked up from the page, shrugged listlessly. "I'm too tired right now, Boz. Maybe next weekend, huh? And don't we have that surveillance job starting Wednesday?"
Murray blinked. "I canceled that, Cody. We need a few days to recover, don't you think?"
"We need cash." Cody rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Maybe I should go down to the hotel, see if I can find some tourists who want to go waterskiing -- "
"Cody, you were shot! You -- "
"It's only a scratch. One of us has gotta get on and find some work around here -- "
Nick put the coffee pot down and gestured at Murray to go below. Murray hesitated then backed toward the stairs. "Nick, he can't be serious. Friday, he was catatonic. We have to do something!"
"Leave him to me, Boz," Nick murmured.
Cody slammed his fist on the table and jumped up. He made to push past Nick and Nick turned into him, blocking him with his body, catching him with an arm around the chest. With his other hand, Nick waved at Murray again.
This time, Murray obeyed. Whatever was going on in the Riptide's salon, he didn't know how to help. All he could do was hope against hope that Nick did.
*
Several hours later, the thrum of the Riptide's diesels woke Murray from a catnap on his keyboard. He raised his head, blearily pushing his glasses back into place, and felt the roll of the boat meaning they were heading out into open water.
Murray allowed himself a smile of relief. Not that he'd doubted Nick's ability to manage Cody, exactly. It was just that the last week had given him a finer appreciation of how close the edge was.
He got stiffly up from his chair and headed abovedecks.
He found both his partners in the wheelhouse. Cody, looking both tired and chastened, had the tiller, and Nick was standing close at his side, hand resting on his back.
"Hey, guys," Murray said cautiously, emerging from the stairwell.
"Hey, Boz." This time, Nick greeted him with a real, wide smile. His hand moved gently on Cody's back.
Cody gave Murray a smile too, although he looked a little distracted. "We got enough provisions for a week, Murray? Nick wouldn't let me check." There was a tight note in his voice, but nothing of the earlier anger.
"Unless the cops took it, or Dooley's been aboard, we're set for a month," Murray said, a little surprised. "We stocked right up when we got paid for that last case, remember?"
"Oh, yeah." Cody grinned, a little sheepishly. "I guess Nick's right. I'm not thinking straight right now."
"How's that different from normal?" Nick teased. He left Cody's side, moving to lean against the wall.
Cody shot him a grin. "Hardly surprising, considering who I work with."
Murray went out onto the deck and leaned over the side. It was a perfect day. The wind in his face was just cool enough to be pleasant, and from inside, he could hear the soft banter as his partners fitted themselves back into their lives. Into his life.
Nick leaned out the door and grinned at him. "Thanks, Boz. For everything."
Murray thought back over the terrible stress of the past week, and grinned back. "It was my pleasure, Nick. All of it."
*
They spent the first couple of nights at anchor, well away from the shipping lanes, out of sight of land, and saw nothing save the occasional sea-bird. Cody slept most of the time, sometimes in his cabin, more often on the bench in the salon or out on deck.
Wherever he was, Nick was never more than a couple of feet away. Either sitting beside him, reading or fiddling with an engine part, or stretched out at his side, touching him at knee, hip and shoulder, and often in between as well.
It helped. It helped more than Cody could put into words. And each time he awoke, he saw the change in Nick's face, saw the watchfulness receding, notch by notch.
Murray stopped shooting them wary glances, walking on eggshells -- went back to whistling as he worked, and talking aloud to the Roboz. Things were getting back to normal on the Riptide.
Each evening, Nick checked Cody's wound, changed the dressing, then chased him below. Cody would have slept on deck if he'd had the chance, but Nick was too close to the edge himself. Cody knew it, knew that for Nick, the empty black water was filled with demons, so he submitted readily enough.
Pressed against the wall, with Nick curled close against him, between him and the door, Cody lay and let the present wash over him. He held Nick tight, safe against the dark, against the horrors that came in the night, and together they slept as they could not have done alone.
*
On the morning of the third day, Cody looked at the quiet wariness at the back of Nick's gaze, and the bored patience in Murray's eyes, and went forward and pulled the sea anchor.
Nick bounded up as Cody operated the winch. "What you doing, man? I don't think I'm ready for shore yet, you know?"
Cody listened with satisfaction to the heavy rattle of chain on the drum. "Who said anything about shore?" He flicked off the winch, checked the anchor was secure, and headed for the wheelhouse.
The secluded bay at Cooper's Island wasn't exactly a theme park, but compared to their previous anchorage, it offered a good deal more in the way of activities. The fishing was good, it was safe for swimming, and its location allowed Murray to access the satellites. And Nick was always more comfortable with land in sight.
"You love deep water," Nick murmured as Cody joined him on the wheelhouse deck.
"Yeah, I do," Cody agreed, handing Nick a beer. He'd finished tying the bow-line, checked the stern anchor, been to the head and stopped off in the galley for the beers, and it was the longest time in a week he'd been alone. "But I love this bay, too, and you and Murray were getting kinda bored."
"Was not."
Cody grinned. "Okay, Murray was getting bored, and you were getting cabin fever."
Nick snorted and took a long drink. "I like it better here than out there," he admitted. He was already more relaxed, Cody could see it in his eyes, in the set of his shoulders, and it was easy enough for Cody to coax him in for a swim to while away the afternoon.
*
Physically tired from the exercise and well fed on fresh fish, Nick and Cody slipped away to their cabin a little after sunset. Taking advantage of satellite access, Murray had the Roboz and a terminal in the salon, and was typing away at speed.
Cody, feeling refreshed and relaxed, was a little disappointed to see Nick yawning. But he headed below readily, knowing Nick would follow, determined Nick would rest as easy as he had himself when Nick stood watch.
"C'mon, big guy." Cody pulled Nick into their cabin and closed the door behind them. "You're wiped out. Lay down, an' let me rub you down."
Nick sat on the edge of his bunk, frowning slightly. "Your arm -- "
"Is fine. You fixed it up right after we swam, a couple hours back."
"I guess." Nick lay down, and gave a heartfelt moan as Cody went to work on his neck. "Man, that's tight. Cody, yeah."
"I know, babe." Cody did know. He knew the location of every stress-knot in Nick's neck, every tight place in his back. He also knew the best ways to bring Nick relief, exactly how Nick liked to be touched, how much pressure hurt, and how much reduced Nick to a quivering ball of jell-o. Pain-free jell-o.
That was his aim tonight, and he accomplished it more easily than he'd thought. Cody could feel Nick struggling to hold on to awareness, and he stroked his neck gently. "Go to sleep, baby. It's okay. You can let go, big guy. I got this."
Nick gave a soft sigh. "Shouldn't have to," he muttered. "My job. Keep you safe."
Cody's heart filled. He lay down close to Nick, half on top of him. Between Nick and the door. "Just this once, let me."
Nick gave a grunt which might have been assent and half-turned, curling into Cody's body. But when Cody awoke next morning, he was facing the wall, and Nick was close against his back, arms wrapped around his chest. Holding him tight, holding him safe.
Cody rolled over, unsurprised to find Nick already awake. "I wanted you to sleep all day," he murmured.
The corners of Nick's eyes crinkled. "Thought you were gonna."
"Done that already." Cody leaned in and took a soft kiss. "You can stand down, big guy."
"Maybe I don't wanna." Nick kissed Cody back, a little harder.
"Yeah, I know." Cody reached up and stroked Nick's cheek. "But what happened... it was just one of those things. Too much all at once. You know?"
"I know. But I shoulda been there -- they took you, Cody, they took you in that hospital and -- "
"And Boz busted me out." Cody kissed Nick again, effectively silencing him. "C'mon, babe. It's over. It's over, and we're still here."
"Yeah, I know." Nick still didn't look convinced.
"We're still here, and I still need you."
Nick's eyes kindled. "Need you too."
Cody lay back, gently tugging Nick on top of him. He needed Nick, he always would, but just as important, just as deep, was Nick's need for him.
Nick kissed him in earnest, every bit of the last week's fear and anguish and all the depth of his need coming through clear and strong. Cody stared into Nick's eyes, seeking out the lingering shadows, then kissed him back.
He put everything he had into the kiss -- the strength and safety he found in Nick, the love they shared. Nick shuddered in his arms, his own kiss turning fierce, hungry. Demanding.
It was everything Cody wanted.
*
The sun was high, and Murray already had several good-sized fish in his bucket by the time Nick and Cody came upstairs the next morning.
"This is a great spot," Murray said enthusiastically, reeling in another bite. "Nick, Cody, you'd better hurry up, I don't know if they'll bite through into the afternoon."
"They won't," Cody said, rubbing his eyes, and sank down onto the bench seat. "I'll put a line out once the sun gets lower. Looks like you've had a great morning, Boz."
"Sure have," Murray agreed, as Nick pulled a deck chair over and sat down as close to Cody as possible. They both looked sleepy, but the edgy tension was missing.
Murray landed his catch then sat forward. "You two look better." He waited, half-expecting anger.
But instead, Nick laid a hand on Cody's thigh. "We're doing okay," he agreed. "Any word on the case?"
"Sure, I had Roboz on the satellite first thing. They've got most of the gang in custody, and they found so much evidence it's unlikely they'll need our testimony. Plus, we're gonna get a small share in the reward. Isn't that boss?"
"It really is." Cody leaned back against Nick and swung his feet up to the seat. Nick moved over, resettling with an arm around Cody's ribs. "Glad we don't have to rush back to King Harbor."
Murray looked at his partners, relaxed in the spring sunshine, and had to admit he felt the same way. "Yeah, I think we could all use a vacation."
"You got that right." Nick sighed contentedly, his hand moving gently on Cody's chest. "Listen, Boz, I think you oughtta take the reward money. You been talking for months about upgrading the Roboz's modu-data-whatsit, and you oughtta go ahead and do it."
"His modal sonic data modulator," Murray mused, unable to suppress a thrill. "But wait, but what about your shares? Cody wanted to scrape the Riptide's hull and --"
"And nothing," Cody interrupted. "Nick did that for me a couple months back when he ran her aground on that jetty. I want you to take the money, Boz."
"I can't do that." Murray shook his head solemnly. "All for one and one for all. You need that cash too."
"We really don't." Nick sat up a little, making eye contact with Murray. His blue eyes were shadowed and serious. "What I need, Boz, I need Cody home and safe. All of us here where we belong, you know? And thanks to you, thanks to Roboz figuring stuff out and thanks to what you did, that's how this case turned out. If you couldn't hook into that inside information -- if you hadn't sprung Cody when you did --" Nick broke off, and Cody took his hand.
"See, Murray," Cody continued, looking out at the ocean. "You're the hero in this case. You made the plans, you found the information, you brought us back together. Then you squared everything with the cops so's we're not in jail right now. If anyone deserves this reward, it's you."
Murray opened his mouth to keep arguing but was forestalled by Nick's upraised hand. "Call it a gift, man. A gift from me and Cody to the Roboz. Okay?"
Murray looked from Nick to Cody. Nick was sitting forward, leaning over Cody, who was sprawled on the bench seat, his blond hair tousled, beads of sweat already starting on his shoulders. He flashed for an instant on Cody in the hospital, gray-faced, strapped down, helpless and alone. On Nick in the fleabag motel, worn and shattered, carrying an unresponsive Cody to the bed.
It could have all gone so very, very differently.
"Okay," he said quietly, and gave a small nod. "I'll take it. For the Roboz, that's all -- because with this upgrade we can work even smarter, even safer. And hopefully never get in a mess like this again."
"I'll second that," Cody agreed.
"I don't know how much the reward is gonna be," Murray warned. "But if there's any over after I've gotten the parts, it's yours."
"If there's any over, we're going to New Orleans," Nick said, leaning back in his chair and leaving one hand on Cody's ribs. "Like you said, Boz, we could use a vacation. I just got one request."
"What's that?" Cody asked lazily. His eyes were drifting closed.
"We gotta take the Roboz. I bet the little guy's hanging out for a vacation."
Murray chuckled and cast his line again. "The Roboz is gonna love it, guys."
Re: Yeah!
Date: 2013-08-17 12:27 am (UTC)