Chapter Text
Chapter 1
The Worst Kind of Calls
Tanner hated these kinds of calls. They came as close to evil as he’d ever seen. That special sort of evil that made his gut twist, and his heart pound. It was exactly the kind of call that the responding officer for his father’s murder would have gone on.
A caretaker, a person that a family had hired with the intentions of keeping their family member safe, had committed the ultimate betrayal. This particular crime felt worse than even murder did. Peter, Tanner’s partner, and childhood friend, glanced over to him, concern alive in his eyes. “You gonna be okay?” He asked. “Do you need to sit this one out? No shame in it.”
“I appreciate that, but no.” Tanner answered, his eyes narrowed at the dark street. He had never gotten a chance to see his father’s killer. He was too close to the situation, even if he’d tried to go, not a god damned cop would have let him in – rightfully so.
Tanner needed to do this. Not just as some sort of half-assed attempt at allowing himself a chance to work through the anger portion of grieving, but also because he wanted to be able to face someone evil enough to do this sort of thing. The officers pulled up to a stop in front of a large, white home. It was box shaped, with little in the way of windows. An entirely unremarkable home that felt like it belonged in a field somewhere, rather than in the midst of the town. Tanner’s booted feet crunched on the gravel as he and his partner strode toward the house. His stomach roiled with nervousness and rage, his heart pounded in his chest. He pushed away the sick feeling, and knocked.
A man, pale skin, blonde hair, and tall, opened up the door. He looked a little haggard – a stark contrast to the high-end suit he wore. There was something unnerving about an otherwise put together man when his eyes were as haunted as Jason Trent’s.
Tanner could only imagine that he’d looked similarly after his father’s death. He banished thoughts of his father, and focused instead, at the task at hand. “Hello, my name is Officer Stone, this is my partner, Officer Glasse. Can I have you verify your name for me?”
“I’m Jason Trent.” The man answered, his voice sounded just as rough as he looked.
“Hello, Mr. Trent.” Tanner said gently. “We got a report this evening about someone assaulting your son?”
He nodded, and Tanner watched as Trent’s whole demeanor turned from angry to defeated. He couldn’t imagine the pain the man was in. “Yeah.” He finally answered, swallowing away the tears that the officer knew were just beneath the surface. “I found conversations in his cellphone about what he’d done.”
Tanner nodded, “Okay. We’re going to need to talk to both the employee, and your son.”
“My son is nonverbal.” Fuck, that made it so much worse. “He was in a car accident last year, and lost most motor function. I hired Cassie to take care of him while I was at work.” He pressed his lips together in a thin line. “It would seem that that was a mistake.”
“Cassie?” Peter asked, quirking a brow. “As in Cassandra? We’d been told the suspect was a male.”
Mr. Trent shook his head. “Cassius. My wife started calling him Cassie a while ago. She and Cass were rather close…” Tanner watched as the man did his best to burry the sudden fury that rolled over him. “That too, was a mistake.” He stepped away from the door and motioned toward the kitchen. “He’s in there.”
Tanner gave a nod. Brave of him to leave the guy alone at all, but he wasn’t going to pick on how a grieving father did things. The truth of the matter was, Trent was likely in shock. Peter trailed behind Tanner as they made their way through the living room, and rounded the corner to the left. A very frightened looking man stood at the far end of the room, his arms crossed over his chest, and tears in his eyes. He was small, for a guy. Five feet, six inches at absolute most, and he was thin. His skin was pallid, and his eyes were a pale, strange mixture between ice blue and stormy gray. He would have been beautiful under any other circumstances. But here, in the middle of the brightly lit, newly renovated kitchen? He looked like a fucking monster.
“Hello, officers.” He said, his voice was soft, but tinny and a little distant.
“Hi.” Peter answered from beside Tanner, in what was likely the coldest tone he’d ever heard his friend take with anyone. “I’m Officer Glasse, and this is Officer Stone,” He said, motioning toward his partner “We’ve been called out regarding a sexual misconduct case. Can you identify yourself please, and tell us a little about what’s going on?”
“Yes, sir.” The man answered, keeping his voice level and grounded. “My name is Cassius Black. I’m an RN, and I genuinely have no idea what is happening. Mr. Trent won’t tell me what it is he thinks I’ve done, or why he thinks I did it. He just informed me that he’d called the police, and I should wait.” He shook his head. “You said sexual misconduct?” He asked in disbelief.
Tanner nodded, and motioned toward Black. “You’ve been crying.” He pointed out. “I’d imagine you must have some sort of idea what’s going on, if you’re going to cry?”
“That’s unrelated.” Black answered, wiping tears away from his eyes.
Right. Sure it was. “Care to elaborate?” Tanner asked flatly.
“I don’t, actually.” He answered, with a tight smile. “I will if I have to, but I don’t want to at this time.” The officer gave a nod, and nothing more. He sounded guilty as fuck.
“Okay,” Tanner turned eyes toward Peter, “Want to take Trent into the other room?” He asked. Peter gave a nod, and padded over to the man, guiding him further back into the house.
Officer Stone waited until they were out of sight, and he could no longer hear Peter’s voice before he turned back toward Black. “Okay,” He said, pulling a notepad and a pen out of his vest. “I’m going to go ahead and warn you that you’d be better off telling me the truth here. Let’s start from the beginning. What happened tonight?”
“I genuinely have no idea.” Black answered through silent tears. “I’ve lived here with the family for the last three months. I thought everything was going well. They’d had no complaints up until about an hour ago.”
“What happened an hour ago?” Tanner asked, glancing up at the man.
Black shifted uncomfortably in his place. “I don’t know.” He insisted. Tanner could see the lie scrawled all over the nurse’s face. He could hear it in Black’s voice. As it turned out, Black was pretty easy to read, which came in handy.
Officer Stone sighed, and gave him a hard stare. “You understand that my partner is talking to Trent in the next room, yes?” He asked.
“Yes, sir.” He answered, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. “I swear that I would tell you if I knew what was happening.” He motioned toward where Peter had disappeared with Black’s employer. “He won’t tell me anything. I begged him to tell me what was wrong. All he would say was that he’d called the police.” That was interesting. That one sounded like the truth.
“Okay.” Tanner answered with a sigh. He raised his voice just a bit to get Peter’s attention. “I think we’ve wrapped up.” He called, and Black jumped, practically out of his skin. Red flags abound. Until now, Tanner had taken the sirs to be formality, not uncommon even in their area, but Black had a pretty thick southern accent, which made it all the more likely that it was just habit. Jumpiness, however, meant he was on edge. Tanner could understand why, of course. Anyone could. Even still, innocent people didn’t tend to jump at slightly raised voices. “You good?” Tanner asked.
He offered Tanner a tight smile that never reached his eyes. “Yes, sir.” There it was again, the lie in his voice.
Peter and Trent rounded the corner a few minutes later. Peter did a good job concealing his emotions for the most part. If you didn’t know him, you’d probably never think anything was wrong. But Tanner known him for going on twenty years, and he could see how disturbed his partner was beneath the surface. Trent had told him something terrible.
“Alright,” Peter said, his eyes hardening when he glanced over to Black. “Mr. Trent says you took a shower a bit ago.” Black nodded along with what he said. “He said you’d been acting weird for a few days, so he opened up your phone.” Tanner watched as Black’s eyes widened, and panic overtook him. Confirmation that there was, indeed, something on the phone that he didn’t want anyone seeing. “He said he opened up a few text messages, and one of them was to someone named Miguel.”
“Fuck.” Black whispered, eyes squeezing shut. Bingo. He’d grown all sorts of uncomfortable. Tanner had been prepared for a lot of reactions. Violence. Anger. Entirely shutting down. Even a full on confession. He hadn’t been prepared to watch a grown man break.
Usually Officer Stone would have felt bad for a grown man who had been reduced to sobs and tremors. But not this time. “I don’t want to press charges.” Black said firmly. Tanner quirked a brow at him. That was either a hamfisted attempt at trying to cover up his guilt, or they were talking about two different things.
Peter paused, and regarded Black with sudden curiosity. “I mean…that’s good, because you wouldn’t be the one to do that.”
“No.” Black answered firmly, it would appear he’d suddenly grown a backbone. Not great news for anyone involved. It meant he could take a swing. Not that Tanner was overly concerned about it. Black was less than half his size, but no one had frisked him for weapons. “I’m aware of my rights. I will not press charges, and you can’t bring any against him without my consent. It’s a civil matter.” That was interesting. Who exactly was the him in question? Certainly no one in the Trent family.
“Okay,” Peter said, sounding more confused than he had initially. “Let’s circle back to that, because I have no idea what you’re talking about. I need you to just be quiet, and listen for a moment. Understand?”
Black offered him a tight smile that never reached his eyes. “Yes, sir.” He said, but his voice was filled with irritation.
Peter nodded. “Trent says he looked through your texts with Miguel, and you described several videos you’d taken, most of which focused on physical abuse…but described various acts of sexual abuse…” Cass’s lips pressed together, and he closed his eyes. He gave a nod. Well, that was about the easiest confession Tanner had gotten out of anyone, ever. “All of which were performed on his son, by you.” Peter finished.
Blacks’ eyes flew open in shock. “What the fuck?” He demanded, looking over to Trent. “No the fuck I did not.” They could have taken him into custody. The initial nod was enough for probable cause, but Tanner wasn’t about to ruin this guys life if he wasn’t entirely sure he’d done it.
“You lying son of a bitch!” Trent shouted, and took a step forward. Peter moved to put a hand on Trent’s chest, stopping him from coming any further. His jaw clenched, and his hands balled into fists as he stared at his employee.
“You’re saying that conversation doesn’t exist?” Peter asked.
Black closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No…the conversation definitely exists. But it has absolutely nothing to do with Michael Trent.”
Peter’s eyes narrowed as he regarded the nurse. “So…a conversation detailing physical and sexual abuse of someone does exist?”
Black nodded a second time. “Yes, sir.” He bit out. “But it was about me. My life. My past. I was venting to Miguel, my foster father, about the shit that went down with my –“ He paused, bit his lip, and shook his head, as though to say he wouldn’t continue.
Tanner allowed him a beat to compose himself, and wipe away silent tears. He cleared his throat. “Well…I wound up with a foster father for a reason.” He decided, there was no reason for him to continue. Tanner could parse out what was meant. Anyone could. “It’s not something I advertise, and not something I want anyone looking through.” He shot Trent an angry look. “Miguel is the only person I’ve ever gone to with all the bullshit I went through as a kid…and later as an adult. The idea that someone would have gone through and read it all is…more than a little concerning. I don’t sensor myself with him. He’s the only person in the world I trust implicitly.”
“You liar!” Trent shouted again. Tanner turned a warning gaze to him, and he backed off. Pacing angrily, his hands combing through his gray hair.
Peter nodded along as Black spoke. “Can we see the messages?” He asked.
“What?” Black asked, turning eyes from one officer to the other. Tanner gave him a hard stare in return. He’d find no sympathy with them, not now, not ever. “I mean…I’d rather not. I just got done telling you that I bare my soul in those messages.”
“Okay.” Peter answered, snapping his book shut, and placing it back in his vest. “Go ahead and turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
“I’m under arrest?” Black asked in disbelief.
“You’ve made it pretty clear you don’t want to talk about this.” Tanner answered, his voice devoid of emotion. “So, we have to force you to allow us to sort it out.”
Terror washed over Black’s features. “Wait! No! Please, don’t! I can’t –“
“I’ll be honest, pal.” Peter began, taking a step forward. “I don’t really give a shit what you want. I’m not saying you’re guilty, but I’m saying you were accused of something terrible, right? You have two officers in front of you, telling you that you’ve been accused of sexually and physically abusing a nonverbal mentally handicapped man. And let’s be honest here, he’s nineteen. He may be considered an adult in the eyes of the law. But you’re at least thirty. He’s a fucking child.” He glared death at Black. “If it were me, I’d do just about anything to clear my name. The fact that you don’t want to hand over your phone speaks volumes.” Peter looked over to Tanner expectantly.
“Yep.” Officer Stone answered with a nod. “If someone came at me with these charges, I don’t give a fuck what I had in my phone, I’d let them look through it.”
“I would never hurt anyone! Least of all a client!” Cassius hissed. “And fuck all of you for even implying it!”
Peter sucked in a deep breath, and tossed Black a warning look. “So now, if we’re getting belligerent, I have to add resisting to your charges, and that you’re gonna sit for. So you can either turn around, and we can do this, or I can tackle you and –“
“No, no, no.” Black answered backing up, and molding himself against the wall. He was starting to hyperventilate. His hands were shaking at his sides. His whole body was trembling. “Okay. Alright. You can look through anything you want. Can I grab my phone out of my pocket?” He asked.
“Which pocket?” Peter asked.
“Don’t touch me.” Tanner was sure that Black meant it to be a command, but it came out as more of a whimper.
“I’m not going to touch you. Which pocket?” Peter pressed, his patience wearing thin.
“Left back.” Black answered, but his voice was barely a whisper, and his eyes were wide with terror.
“Raise your right hand above your head. Move away from the wall so Officer Stone can see what you’re taking out of your pocket. Nice and slow, no quick movements. I will tell you right now, if you go for a weapon, we will have no choice but to use force. You understand?”
Black nodded rapidly, eyes brimming with fresh tears. “Yes, sir.” Slowly, he followed Peter’s directions. Out of his back pocket, he pulled a large black phone. He handed it over to Tanner. “Passcode is twelve, zero, seven.”
Tanner handed the phone over to Peter, who typed in the passcode, and moved the phone over toward Trent. The man began the task of looking through text messages. Officer Stone kept his eyes firmly on Black. There was always a possibility of a suspect getting violent, especially when they were being investigated for something so serious. “You look nervous.” He pointed out.
Black shot Officer Stone a look that might have been irritated, if it weren’t so consumed with despair. He rolled his eyes, and wiped fresh tears away. “Yeah, I am.” He answered in a pinched voice. “It’s a little unnerving having two random strangers pour over my texts with my foster father. Most of what we talk about is more private than my therapy sessions have ever been.”
“Tanner, I can’t read any of this. It’s all in Spanish.” Peter said.
Tanner nodded, and motioned toward Black. “Keep an eye on him. I’ll read through it.” He tossed a questioning glance over to Trent. “Which messages were you referring to? How far back should I go?”
“My guess,” Black cut in, glaring to Trent. “Is that he’s a fucking gringo,” A weird choice of words. While Tanner was aware that all races existed in Mexico, nothing about Black screamed Mexican, or really any other flavor of Spanish-speaking country. “Who can’t speak Spanish, and mistranslated my texts to Miguel last night.”
Trent shot Black a look of contempt, but Officer Stone watched as uncertainty crept into his eyes. “They were from yesterday.” He admitted, and suddenly he didn’t look all too convinced. Tanner was rooting for this being a misunderstanding. It meant one less victim in the world.
“Can you look over this, and tell me which ones exactly? Let me know if any are missing. If you think he may have deleted anything.” Tanner coached.
Trent scrolled through texts, and pointed at one. “Nothing is missing. It starts here.” He said, “And goes to the end. I’m not fluent in Spanish, but I know enough to know what was said.” He stabbed a finger at one text, highlighting it. “You see? It says ‘I filmed Mike while I beat him.’ And then it says –” Trent cut off, letting out a growl instead. Officer Stone looked down at the text. He pointed to the response from Miguel. “And here, this Miguel guy asks for the video.”
It didn’t say that, actually. Tanner’s money was suddenly on Black.
“Mmm.” Black answered sarcastically, his eyes squinting in disbelief. “I think you’re wrong. Ask me how I know.” He paused, his eyes going hard. “Because I wrote them, asshole. That’s how. And I can almost see how you could mistake the few sentences dealing with those heavy topics for a confession.”
Trent said nothing, he only stared in irritation.
Black looked murderous. “Dude, all you had to do was come to me and tell me that you were concerned. Yeah. I’ve been acting weird lately. I’m fucking sorry. I’ve got a shit storm happening in my personal life. I’m doing my fucking best to keep it together, and I get it, I’m failing hard.” He paused, trying desperately to fight away tears, but in the end, the tears won, and he crumbled into himself. “All you had to do was ask. I get it. I live in your house, I’m alone with your son. Would I want to tell you? No. But I fucking would have. And now…I have to deal with cops. My least favorite people on the planet.”
More red flags. “Criminals tend to feel that way.” Trent’s words were venomous, and they echoed Tanner’s own thoughts.
“Fuck you.” Black snapped, his eyes going dark, and his stance becoming dangerous.
“Enough!” Peter demanded. “Before I arrest both of you.” Tanner watched fear wash over Black. He folded his arms over his chest, and fell silent. Dude was fucking terrified of being arrested. It made Tanner wonder if he’d find previous arrests if he did a background check. Maybe Black had done time before. Certainly acted that way.
Officer Stone’s eyes went back to the texts, as he scrolled through. And fuck, Black was in a rough spot. There was talk of finally escaping suicidal thoughts, and finding purpose in work. Of feelings of worthlessness and helplessness. Talk of how he’d managed to get video proof of someone by the name of Mike beating him. He talked about how he didn’t have video, but the same man had raped him, and damn near killed him. That had been the text that Trent had misread. “Alright,” He said, glancing up at Peter. “I’m not going to say most of this out loud. It’s extremely personal.”
There was a look of surprise on Black’s face. “Thank you.” His eyes had gone soft. “I really do appreciate that, sir. Thank you.”
“You’re good.” Tanner answered with a nod. “But there is nothing in here at all about Black doing anything to Trent’s son. There’s some description of a few crimes in which it would appear that Black is the victim.” Tanner turned his eyes up toward Cass. “Can we discuss it in Spanish? They won’t understand. I need to be able to write a report.”
“Yes, sir.” Cassius said, his tone had lightened considerably.
“You detail some really disturbing abuse. Who is the victim in question?” Tanner was pretty sure he already knew, but he wanted to be sure.
“Me.” Cassius’s eyes had gone a little distant. Sadness crept over him. “I probably shouldn’t write about them to be honest, but I don’t have anyone else to talk to. Miguel fosters kids who have been through abuse like this. He does a really good job of talking me down when I start to get to close to that edge, you know?”
Tanner waved away the thought. “No one has a right to tell you what you can and can’t talk about. This is your life. You’re looking for support. I’m not going to read any further than I absolutely have to here. But just from this small bit, it sounds like you’ve been through hell.” Black winced. “But that’s okay, man. It sounds like you turned out really well, which a hard thing to accomplish with a start like this.”
“Thank you, sir.” Black said through fresh tears.
“You mention a video of abuse?” Officer Stone asked. “Someone named Mike?”
“My guess is that’s where the disconnect is here.” Tanner had the exact same thought. “Mike is also the name of Mr. Trent’s son. The videos are in my gallery. You have permission to look through anything and everything. Emails. Photos. Videos. Texts. Whatever. I don’t give a fuck. But if you’re going to watch it…” His features had gone from deadened and listless to anxious and uncertain in a matter of seconds. “Can I leave the room? Please? I’ll gladly stay with Officer Glasse. I…have panic attacks when I so much as see those videos in my gallery. I honestly think hearing it would push me over the edge.”
Tanner nodded, turned toward Peter, and switched back to English. “He wants to know if he can leave the room while we watch the videos that are detailed in the text messages. I have no reason at all to believe that he’s actually committed any crimes here. I think he’s a victim.”
“That’s bullshit!” Trent shouted, but a warning glance from Tanner had him falling silent.
“Yeah, how far away do you need to be?” Peter turned his eyes to Cass. “I could cuff him and put him –“
“No, no, no.” Cassius answered, fresh terror washing over him. “No, please. I will go anywhere you want me to go, and stay anywhere you want me to stay. Please don’t put handcuffs on me.” The panic was plain to see. It was in the way his chest rose and fell too quickly. The way his eyes were too wide. The way tears streamed down his cheeks.
“Whoa, calm down.” Peter said. “Just because you wind up in cuffs doesn’t mean you’re getting charged or booked. I doubt you’re going to find yourself in a cell today.”
Cassius shook his head, and took a step back, molding himself against the wall. Tears had turned to sobs, and breaths had become shallow enough that Officer Stone was worried about him fainting. “No, please no.” He begged, his voice barely above a whisper. “Umm…Mike, my ex…he was a cop.” Fuck. If he had experience with dating an abusive asshole, who also happened to be an officer…of course he’d hate police. Cassius shook his head as though to shake away a thought. “Is…he is a cop still, I assume. The videos mentioned are of him. He used to handcuff me before he’d beat me.” His voice had become breathy, as he fought for air through hyperventilation. His story, and his sobs made Tanner’s heart ache. “A few times he strangled me…a few times he raped me. I have horrible panic attacks now. I can’t have anything around my wrists without panicking. Please don’t, sir. Please. I will stand right here if you don’t mind the crying, but please…don’t put me in cuffs.”
“You need to calm down.” Peter coached, his voice returning to the gentleness Tanner had always known him to have. “You’re hyperventilating. If you can’t calm down, you could pass out.”
Black nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He apologized over and over as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m so sorry.”
Officer Stone handed the phone over to Peter, the gallery was open, he’d moved it to the tab entitled videos. There were only a dozen or so. The most recent was from six months prior. In the thumbnail, an officer, clad in a Class A tactical uniform, stood over Black’s crumpled body. His fist was frozen above his head. Black wasn’t lying. By the sound of it, this Mike guy had been just the last in a long line of people to abuse him.
Tanner would make sure he wasn’t cuffed. It was the last thing he needed. He took two steps toward Black. He opened his mouth to explain, but before he could get the first syllable out, Black crumpled into himself. “No, please!” He begged. “Please don’t! I’ll do whatever you want! I’m sorry!”
“Hey,” Officer Stone said, his voice soft. It was the same tone he used to talk to lost children. “It’s alright.” He promised. “I don’t need to see the video. Peter can watch it, you and I can go and talk. Okay? No cuffs. No one’s getting hurt.”
Black had shrunk so far into himself that he looked more like a frightened child than a grown man. “Thank you.” He whispered. “Thank you so much, sir. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Tanner answered with a smile. He motioned for Black to follow. With minimal hesitation, he pushed himself away from the wall, and padded behind the officer, toward the living room. The sound of the video echoed through the mostly silent home. Tanner recognized Black’s voice, terrified and low. Hi honey, everything okay?
Cassius winced, pressed his back against the wall, and slid down it, until he sat on the floor. His eyes were unfocused, and staring off into nothingness. “Hey.” Tanner said, trying to make his voice soft so as not to make matters worse. It didn’t work. He jumped practically out of his skin, winced, and put his hands up, as though to stop a boot from hitting him squarely in the face. “Don’t listen to them, okay? Listen to me. I’m going to talk to you. I need you to focus on my voice. You think you can do that?” Tanner asked.
“Yes, sir.” Black answered with a nod. I – I’m sorry, Mike. I promise it won’t happen again. Black’s desperate voice flitted through the home.
“How long have you been an RN?” Officer Stone asked. “Do you like doing it?” The sounds from the video had devolved into panicked screaming from Black, and angry, accusatory screams from the man Black had identified as Mike.
Black opened his mouth as though to answer, but he couldn’t get the words out. So Tanner moved to a sitting position beside him, and spoke instead. “My mom and dad were missionaries in Paraguay. They taught me Spanish.” He hoped to get Black's attention and force him to think in Spanish instead of English. It might help drown out the panic. “By then they were back in America, but they’d spent about ten years in Paraguay total, and Spanish had become as big a piece of their lives as English was. You and your foster father speak Spanish. How did you learn?” The distinct sound of flesh on flesh echoed through the home, desperate screams from Black, angry screams from someone else. Tanner watched as the man crumbled entirely. “Focus on me.” He reminded him. “How about we head outside? Away from the noise?”
Cass nodded, wiping tears away from his eyes. “Thank you.” He squeaked, he went to pick himself up, but a series of rapid beeps echoed through the home. Alarms went off, and Cass stiffened. He made a grab at his back pocket. “Fuck.” He hissed. “I don’t have my phone.” He turned teary blue eyes to Tanner. “Call 911. Michael is seizing.”
Tanner grabbed his radio. “Request for medical.”
Cassius moved toward the kitchen area, and Tanner was quick to follow as he recited the details to dispatch. “Jason!” Black snapped. Officer Stone watched as Peter took a warning stance, but he shook his head, and held up a hand. “I told you when you started this bullshit that Michael seizes when he’s overtired! You need to get in there!”
Jason Trent looked up to Cass with wide eyes. “I don’t know what to do!” He said, as though that should have been obvious.
Cassius gave him the same look of indignation that Tanner and Peter did. Another round of screams from the phone. This time Mike’s voice was demanding that Cass repeat that he was worthless. “Turn it off, so I can think!” Black demanded. Peter clicked the button.
“What’s going on?” Peter asked.
“Michael is seizing, and if someone doesn’t get in there right now, he’s going to die.” Black hissed. He spun around, tapping Tanner on the arm. “Follow me. You’re going to watch me to make sure that I don’t do anything wrong, and I’m going to make sure that Michael doesn’t die because his father is an idiot.”
The jab was maybe a little bit inappropriate, but Tanner couldn’t say he wouldn’t have taken it in his position. “You’re going to stay the fuck away from my son!” Trent shouted back.
Black whirled around. “Would you rather he die?” He hissed, rage alive in his eyes. “Because that’s what’s going to fucking happen!”
“I’ll call 911.” Trent offered, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
“Already done, but even if they get here in record time, he’s going to fucking die if someone doesn’t go in there and help him!” Black’s voice had raised to the point of shouting. “You know what? I’m not fucking doing this.” Black seethed, spinning around. “I’m going to go stabilize Michael. You can come with me, or not. Arrest me or not. I don’t give a fuck. But I’m not about to watch him fucking die over something so monumentally fucking stupid!”
Black jogged through the hall and down to the side room. He swung the doors open, and rushed up to a man, strapped to a wheelchair. There was a tray attached to the chair, with a variety of words and pictures on it. His whole body was violently convulsing, his mouth was slack, his eyes had begun to droop. “Fuck.” Cass hissed, hurrying toward the man. “Michael, I’m right here, honey. Hang on.” He coached. He rushed to a metal organizational tray stationed in front of the wall, and grabbed a vial of something out of the top drawer. He pulled open another drawer with an urgency reserved for medical teams, and pulled out a sterile-packed syringe. “You’ve got this. Just hang on.” He drew out clear liquid, and injected it into an IV line. “We’re gonna get through it, just like we always do.”
With the medication injected, he spun around to a metal tray again, and opened the second drawer. He pulled from it a small plastic container. It reminded Tanner of the tubes that nebulizer treatment liquid came in. “I’m sorry honey, I know you hate this.” Cassius soothed. But from where Tanner was standing, things were looking a thousand times better. The convulsions had gone down to tremors, and the man’s eyes had begun to focus.
Sounds of terror and anger began to escape Michael. His hand slammed down on the word No written on his tray. “I know, buddy.” Black answered, with a nod. “But we have to do it.” He coached, as he knelt down in front of the man.
He made another angry noise, and swiped at Black’s hands. Black paused, and drew back. He looked up to Micheal with ever patient eyes. “Listen to me,” he coaxed. “Remember what happened last time you refused to let me do this?” He asked. “What happens when your trach gets blocked?” The man answered with a nonsensical shout, and a hand slamming down on a picture of a man cringing, and holding his head. Red lines were drawn around him, Tanner thought likely to indicate pain. “That was awful, right? You cried because it hurt.” He reminded him. “But listen, I’m really good at these, remember? You let me do it on my first month here, and it didn’t hurt, right? I know it can sometimes make you feel like you’re drowning, but not when you do it correctly.” Cassius offered his patient a small smile. “I’m really good at my job, buddy. Let me help you.”
The man’s hand moved toward the Yes marker on his tray. Black jumped up, getting to work instantly, as though concerned that if he waited too long, Michael may change his mind. He twisted the top of the plastic vial off, and gently tilted the man’s head back. There was panic in the man’s eyes, but Cassius was quick to talk him through it. He ran a hand through golden locks. “Just remember, buddy, we’ve done this before, without any issues. Remember?” Black asked, his voice low and gentle as he tilted the vial into the trach. “It was right before Christmas. You were feeling a little under the weather.” About a third of the bullet was emptied. A small sputtering sound from Michael, but he didn’t look distressed. “We spent the morning reading Little House on the Prairie, and watching the snow outside your window. You had to leave the house for a little bit, and when you came back inside, your trach needed to be cleared.” By this point the work had been done, and Black had gone to simply rubbing his head, and speaking to him quietly. “You were scared, but I told you if it hurt, you could punch me in the shoulder. You laughed at that. We got through it, and it didn’t hurt. I spent a long time that day telling you about Florida, where I’d come from, and how I hate how cold it is here.”
Black slowly moved Michael’s head back to a neutral position. “There,” He said gently. “Was that bad?”
Michael’s hand slammed down on the No sticker.
“That’s what I thought.” Cassius said, smiling down at him. “Listen, some EMTs are going to come check you out. We may need to send you off to the hospital,” Michael cut him off with an angry scream. His hand slammed down on No. “You’ve gotta listen to me, honey.” Cassius answered, his voice was so gentle and assuring. All signs of the frightened man from before were gone. “I know you’re tired, so I’m going to transfer you to your bed,” Michael’s hand slammed down on the picture for Bed several times.
“I’ll make sure that they take you in a stretcher, okay? That way you can sleep.” Michael’s hand went to a question mark.
Cassius knelt down in front of him, and turned his eyes upward. “What’s up?” He asked. “You didn’t know you could sleep in the ambulance?” Michael’s hand hit the question mark again. “You want to know why the police are here?” Michael’s hand went to the word Yes. Cassius turned a questioning gaze back to Tanner, and then toward Michael. “I don’t really know how to answer that, but I promise I’ll answer you before you leave tonight, okay?” He asked. Yes Michael answered with a point.
Cassius pulled a gait belt off the tray, and unbuckled the straps that kept Michael in his chair. “No.” Jason Trent snapped. “No, leave him in there.”
“He needs to be able to rest, or he’s going to seize again.” Cassius answered, blatantly ignoring the man as he continued to undo straps.
“Get off of him!” Trent demanded.
Cassius sighed, and clicked the straps back into place. Michael yelled angrily, and slammed a hand against Bed. “I know.” Cassius answered with a nod. “I’ll be back in just a minute, okay? I’m going to go talk to dad.” He offered the man a smile. “For now, let’s turn on a show you enjoy so you don’t wind up falling back to sleep. Okay?” He clicked the tv on, and turned to Spongebob. Trent was protesting quietly by the door, the same way he had been all throughout the procedure. “I’ll be right back.” He assured the man, after laying the remote down.
Cassius closed the door behind him, as he and Tanner stepped outside. Trent had only waited for as long as it took for Cass to leave the room before he started in on his tirade. “You heard him the whole time!” He shouted, an accusatory glare directed at Cass. “You heard him! It was honey this, and sweetheart that!” Tanner hadn’t heard Black refer to anyone as sweetheart, but even if he had, his interaction with his patient had been entirely professional. “I didn’t want to believe that he could do something like this, but I knew something was wrong when he started calling Mike honey.” He stabbed a finger at Cassius. “He’s sick! He’s made my son a victim, and he’s so blatant about it!”
Cassius glared back at the man. “How fucking dare you!” He snapped.
“You need to arrest him!” Trent shouted.
Officer Stone shook his head. “No one is arresting anyone.” Trent wasn’t happy about that, but he didn’t give a shit. He turned his attention back to Black. “Why do you want to transfer him to the bed? Why can’t he sleep in the chair?”
Black gave Tanner a hard, indignant stare. “Nothing I say is going to be right.” He seethed. “I’m gay. You all know it, and now it’s going to be the proof you need that I’m an abuser.”
Trent was agreeing with Cass in the background. Spouting off bullshit about gays being more prone to be abusers. How victims of abuse statistically were more likely to go on to offend. Black looked like he wanted to cry, Tanner offered him a sympathetic gaze. “Eh, that’d be pretty hypocritical of me.” He said with a shrug. “I understand the fear of homophobia, and what it can lead to. It’s scary. You’re in a horrible position right now, but I want to help. Peter is the furthest thing from homophobic. He’s been my best friend for twenty years. I’ve been openly gay for about fifteen years now.”
Relief flooded his eyes. “Oh, thank god.” He breathed. He closed his eyes like he had before, when he’d been thinking. “Michael can’t fall asleep while in the chair. He can suffocate with the trach.”
Tanner’s eyes widened, and he shot a look back over to Trent. “That seems like a pretty big deal.”
Trent glared at Cass. “He’s not going to fall asleep in the ten minutes it’ll take for the ambulance to get here!” He challenged.
“How would you know?” Cassius demanded. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been here for three months, and this is the longest conversation I’ve ever had with you! You go through caregivers like fucking water. How long have you spent with your son since his accident? Because I can tell you he will absolutely fall asleep in the time it’ll take the ambulance to get here. So if you don’t want to risk him dying then you need to go talk to him to keep him awake.”