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Though it was already nearing midnight, the police station wasn’t empty. It never was, despite the late hour. There were always one or two detectives still typing away at their desk, finishing up some report or other. Detective Lou was no exception.
He downed the last of his coffee, wincing at the bitter taste, and turned his computer off. He’d just submitted his report of the incident at the hotel yesterday and with that had closed the case of the 101 Robber. The report was airtight, despite the amount of falsehoods and omissions Lou had filled it with. His years on the force had taught him a lot, so nobody would think to look twice at his story.
Lou stretched and groaned. Damn, he was getting too old to be hunched over a desk for hours like this. With a sigh, he stood and packed up his things.
“Heading out, Lou?” Captain Stewart walked past his desk, empty mug in hand.
“Yeah, finally done with my paperwork.” He grabbed his bag and his own mug and followed the Captain to the kitchen. “Can’t wait to get some sleep.”
“Heaven knows you deserve it,” Stewart said, and refilled his mug with coffee, “you did great with the 101 Robber.”
Lou shrugged and placed his own mug in the sink. “Well, it was purely a hunch. I’m just glad it worked out.”
He looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “I’m serious, Lou.” The Captain looked him in the eyes. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”
Lou quickly looked away. “Thank you, Captain.” He shrugged on his jacket and left.
-
Lou pulled into a parking spot. He glanced around in his rearview mirrors, but the parking garage under his apartment was empty. Certain he was alone, he took a small black wallet out of his pocket. He looked at it, not daring to open it. Inside of this little pouch was a fortune.
Lou looked around his beat up car.
No, there was someone who deserved this more than him. Tomorrow morning he’d return to that yoga studio one last time and give the diamonds to Sharon. She could finally retire, escape the life of corporate greed and soullessness and enjoy life. Whatever she wanted.
He smiled.
Stuffing the waller back in his pocket, he took his bag and got out of the car. It was a fine car, not out of place with the other cars filling the garage. He didn’t need a new one.
Lou stepped in the elevator and pressed the button to the second floor. It’d taken a bit of getting used to, when he first moved here. He used to live on the fifth floor, so force of habit had him pressing the wrong button. Then once he realized, he was already three floors too high so he had to ride the elevator back down.
It was a frustrating reminder of his new situation. Moved, separated, living alone with his cat.
The elevator dinged. He got out and headed for his apartment, already fishing for his keys in his jacket pocket. He unlocked the door and closed it behind him quickly, to prevent Molly from getting out. She was already there, brushing up against his legs, meowing loudly.
“Yeah, yeah, ‘m sorry I’m late…” Lou dropped his bag on the kitchen counter, stumbling in the dark while trying not to trip over his cat. “You hungry? You want some food?”
He felt around for the light switch and flicked it on, only to jump when he saw someone sitting in an armchair.
He grabbed for his gun, taking it out of it’s holster and pointing it at the intruder.
“Who-”
Then, he recognized him. Blond hair, broad shoulders, piercing blue eyes.
“James.”
It was almost a breath. James looked awful. His nose was bleeding, his hair a mess. He was wearing the same suit as yesterday, only without a jacket and tie, and the shirt was torn and rumpled. It was missing a few buttons and sported a big red stain. He was slumped over in one of Lou’s chairs, only barely looking up when he spoke.
“...D’tective.”
Lou scanned the rest of the room, but nothing else looked out of place.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, suspicions still high.
“‘m sorry,” James’ speech was slurred, “Didn’t know where else t’ go…”
Lou spared one last thorough look at him, before sighing and holstering his gun. He stepped towards the thief and grabbed his face to examine him. James flinched slightly at the touch, but didn’t protest.
“Are you injured?” Lou gently moved his head, but apart from his nose he didn’t see any obvious head injury.
“Cr’ckd my ribs, I think,” James mumbled, and Lou let his head go.
“Where?” He demanded, and James gestured to his left side. Lou lifted up his shirt, and noticed a bit of bruising at his lower ribs. “Any trouble breathing?”
James shook his head, but winced at the movement.
“Probably no punctured lungs, then.” Lou said, “But still, you need a hospital.”
He dropped James’ shirt and stood to get his phone. But before he could move James grabbed his wrist.
“No!”
“What- James, no, you need a doctor.” Lou tried to wrench his arm loose but James was holding on tight, “Let me call an ambulance!”
“No, no hospital!” James protested, seeming more lucid than before, “He’ll find me!”
Lou froze. He looked James in the eyes. “What?”
James furrowed his brows. “No hospital.”
Lou stared at him for a moment, before giving up.
“Fine,” he sighed, exasperated. James deflated and let his wrist go, but not before Lou noticed his bruised knuckles. “What are you even doing here? I thought I told you to leave?”
James didn't respond, only averted his eyes. Lou dropped down into another armchair. Molly immediately jumped onto his lap, curling up into a ball.
“What happened, James?” he pressed.
James didn’t look up, kept staring at some part of the laminated floor.
“...I tried.” He spoke, softly.
“What?” Lou didn’t understand.
James took a second before continuing, “T’ leave. Tried t’ leave…”
“...But?” Lou prompted.
“He found me.”
“Who found you?”
“M’ney.”
“...Money?”
“‘S my broker.” James explained, “W’sn’t happy I tried t’ leave…”
Lou looked him over again, “So he beat you up?”
James snorted, a painful sounding noise, “Nah, ‘e’s too old f’r that. Hired someone t’ do it.”
Lou hummed, finally getting the picture, “And you think he’d find you again if you went to a hospital.” It wasn’t a question, but James nodded anyway.
Lou sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’d thought he’d tied this whole thing up with a pretty bow, but somehow James’d found a way back into his life again. He was glad they weren’t on opposite sides of a barrel this time. Even though this was not much less stressful as then.
“C’mon, let me help you to the bathroom. I’ll patch you up.”
With a lot of groaning from both of them, Lou somehow managed to half-carry the 6’something man to his bathroom, depositing him on the edge of the bathtub. James clutched his ribs as he sat down.
“Sorry. Let me get my first aid kit.” Lou quickly ran out to the hallway, where a few boxes were still piled up. He hadn’t unpacked entirely yet, and his med kit was still buried in the pile of junk somewhere. After shuffling a few boxes around he found it and ran back to the bathroom.
James had slumped against a wall, still clutching his left side. It looked like it took all of his effort not to pass out. Lou rushed to his side, taking his face in his hands.
“Hey, hey. James, don’t pass out on me.” He lightly tapped his cheeks, “Just hold on for a few minutes, and then you can sleep, okay? A few minutes.”
James managed an absent nod, and Lou got to work.
He first felt around his scalp, looking for any head wounds he’d missed. James’ shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit as Lou carded his fingers through his blond hair. He found no issues, so he moved on to his face. Gently touching his nose, he quickly withdrew his hands as James hissed in pain.
“That’s definitely broken…” Lou mumbled to himself. He’d have to set that, but first he should check out the rest. His eyes dropped down to James’ torso. The top few buttons of his once white shirt were popped off, so now it revealed a part of his chest. Lou’s eyes lingered on his collarbone. In this position it stood sharp against the rest of his skin. He blinked and continued his gaze to the shirt. The amount of blood was concerning, he had to check if James wasn’t actively bleeding.
Lou unbuttoned the rest of the shirt and removed it, having to almost peel it off at the bloody parts. He bunched it up and threw it into a corner of the room. When he turned back, his breath hitched. James had very pronounced muscles, looking like a Norse god with his abs and pecs and huge arms. But there was indeed a faint bruising at his lower left ribs. Lou very gently prodded at it, earning himself another hiss. It was definitely bruised, probably cracked, but it didn’t look broken. He also didn’t think there was any internal bleeding, and he saw no other wounds except for a few surface scrapes and scratches.
Lou stood up and stepped into the bathtub to inspect James’ back. He couldn’t help but gasp.
There were scars.
Not a lot, but a few faint ones he recognized as cigarette burns, and one big one. Another burn, but in the shape of a dollar sign, a couple inches big on his right shoulder.
“Wh-” Lou stopped himself from asking. Now wasn’t the time, and James was still on the verge of passing out, so he had to move quickly.
Seeing nothing else amiss, he stepped back out of the tub and crouched in front of James.
“Okay, looks like you do have some cracked ribs. Luckily you don't seem to have any other wounds. Your nose must’ve gushed when it broke, there’s a ton of blood on your shirt.”
“Don’t w’rry. ‘S not my blood.”
Lou blinked. James, the bastard, curled one end of his lips up in a small smirk.
“...Of course.” Lou sighed, “Well either way, I need to set your nose and clean you up. Then you can go to bed and rest for a bit.”
“‘Kay, sounds gAH-” James yelled as Lou very quickly took his nose and set it right. Tears sprang up in his eyes and his hand flew to his face. “You f’cker!”
“Sorry about that,” Lou shrugged, not sorry one bit. Then he stood and got a soft towel from a cabinet. He soaked it in some warm water from the sink and started very gently cleaning James’ face. The cloth quickly turned a reddish brown, and Lou rinsed it under the tap, then continued washing James.
He rinsed and repeated until James was relatively clean again, then threw the towel in the same corner as the shirt.
“Well, that’s the best I can do. I’m no doctor so if you die don’t blame me.” James tiredly smiles at that, “Now let’s get you to bed.”
Lou helped James up again, and together they stumbled to his bedroom. Lou set James on his bed. He kneeled down to take his shoes off, then lifted his legs into the bed as well. James was out before his head hit the pillow.
Lou laid a blanket on him and took a step back. He looked at the thief sprawled on his bed, and sighed once again.
“What the hell am I doing?”