Chapter Text
“Tell us your name, son.”
Nathaniel sat in stony silence staring at the blinking red light on the camera in the corner.
“Your age?” The detective asked, trying to hide his annoyance.
Nathaniel remained silent, letting the ticking of the clock become loud in the void between them.
“If you don’t give us something to contact your guardians with, we will have to bring in CPS.” He sighed, rubbing at his temples, and trying to ward off an impending headache.
Nathaniel ignored him. His mother would kill him when she found out he’d been arrested, and he wasn’t interested in dealing with that just yet. He’d take a few hours in custody before he had to face her, it wasn’t like the cops had his prints in the system yet. He was as safe as he could be.
“Believe it or not, you are not my biggest problem tonight.” The detective got up with a scrape of his chair along the cold tiles. “You can wait it out in holding until I can arrange an advocate.” He signalled for the officers at the door to lead him away.
Nathaniel shouldn’t have even been there. It was the product of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Honestly, if he could pass for being over eighteen, he probably would have been released with a slap on the wrist by now. But his luck was never so good. Even at sixteen, Nathaniel looks no older than fourteen, at best. He had always been small for his age, which was a massive disadvantage while living on the run. The one trait he had hoped to get from his father’s side, the height, was the only thing that Neil possessed from his mother’s side. It would have been so much easier to get away with being older if he was bigger.
He repressed the urge to sigh when he was led back to the holding cell.
Thanks to the high crime rate in the middle of a major city, he was being dropped into the emptiest pen they had, which still held the one asshole responsible for his arrest that wasn’t sent to hospital under guard. It wasn’t his fault he had been trained since birth to fight back when someone pointed a gun at him!
In his mind, if you’re willing to wield a weapon you better be damn sure that you’re capable of keeping hold of it or it will be turned back on you. Those guys had been amateur stick-up artists, and Nathaniel had only been there to restock their dwindling supplies, he hadn’t intended to get involved in the robbery, but he’d be damned if some wanna-be punks got the better of him.
The guy’s oily black hair was hanging loosely around his face as he sneered up at him, blood still drying on his face where Nathaniel caught him with an elbow, splitting his lip open. Nathaniel stared back undisturbed as the heavy barred door slammed shut loudly behind him. He would be grateful the pigs had decided to leave the cuffs on everyone. The asshole was a shit fighter and being cuffed would give him a bigger advantage if he tried anything while they were caged together.
There were four other guys in the cell. Nathaniel surveyed them all quickly; two guys in their mid-twenties, sitting on opposite ends of one on the benches bolted to the floor, both looked like they had been in a dust-up. A large guy in a leather vest and full tattoo sleeves, lounging in the corner like this was his usual Saturday night; and one kid against the far wall, dressed in all black with heavy boots keeping his feet planted firmly to the ground despite the fact that he needed to sit on the very edge of the bench to reach. He was shorter than the other detainees but no less menacing with the split knuckles, eyeliner and numerous spikes adorning each ear.
His instincts told him to blend in between the two guys who refused to look at each other, but he didn’t want to give the greasy asshole the impression that he was hiding from a fight now that there were cold cuffs circling his wrists. He chose to sit next to the short blond with the spiky accessories who was staring into space and ignoring the obvious tension in the cell around him. The guy flicked his eyes over for a second as Nathaniel sat just out of arm’s length from him, before returning his attention to thin air.
“Pussy.” The asshole glared at him across the pen.
“You lost a fight with three on one.” Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “You really want to try again in here, without your backup?”
The guy’s glare turned icy as he hacked up enough saliva to spit on the floor in his direction, holding eye contact long enough for the wad to land at his feet. Neil didn’t blink at the dis-respect. He’d been beaten down by worse criminals than this sorry sack of shit, and he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting.
The blond beside him didn’t have the same response; he turned his bored stare on the greasy fiend and spoke like it cost him a great effort to acknowledge those around him. “You lost a fight to a kid and you’re calling him a pussy.”
The tattooed guy in the corner snorted loudly and the greasy haired fiend glowered at them.
“Most kids know better than to cause problems in a hold-up.” He muttered, indignantly.
Nathaniel huffed. “I’m not most kids. You pull a weapon on me and I’m going to fight back.”
The blond turned his bland stare on him, tilting his head back slightly and giving Nathaniel the impression of being studied under a microscope. Maybe he should have turned away and ignored the attention, but he wasn’t in a place where he wanted to be seen as weak.
The blonds mouth twitched. “Interesting,” he decided, continuing to study him.
Nathaniel blinked a few times, trying to understand what he could see in him to spark the response.
“What weapon?”
Nathaniel turned his attention back to the rest of the cell, getting the distinct impression that too much interaction with the blond would become dangerous if he could see through his cover the way he was beginning to think he could.
“Andrew.” A cop sighed, leaning on the barred door, and looking over at the blond. “I’ve had no luck contacting your guardian…”
Andrew managed to look even more bored by the few words directed at him, speaking slowly like the weight of each word had been physically dragged from his mouth. “That’s because he was taken to hospital. You know, with the four assholes that jumped him.”
“Yeah, and you better hope those four assholes don’t die otherwise you’ll be looking at the big house instead of juvie.” The cop pinched his nose with a tired expression, probably wishing to be anywhere other than here. “Is there anyone else we can get to come down here for you?”
“Aaron will come down here with someone once he finds out if Nicky will be alright.” Andrew turned his attention back to the wall, dismissing the man without so much as a word.
The cop tapped a hand absently on his thigh before turning his attention back to Nathaniel. “What about you kid? Feeling anymore talkative yet?”
Nathaniel stretched his legs out in front of him but didn’t give the man any indication that he was listening.
“This would go a lot faster if you gave us something to work with…” He waited for a minute before shaking his head in disappointment when Nathaniel didn’t respond. “I’ll let you know when CPS gets here then.”
Nathaniel waited until the man’s footsteps had faded away before looking over at the blond curiously. “Four?”
“What weapon?” Andrew repeated without looking at him.
Nathaniel huffed in amusement. “Chiappa M9, if I’m not mistaken.”
Andrew raised a single brow at him, waiting for further explanation as Nathaniel’s advisory stared at them in confusion.
“It’s a fucking handgun, wanker!” The fiend cut in with annoyance, crossing his arms as well as he could with handcuffs on.
“Is it any wonder that I knew how to handle it better than your friends did?” He laughed lightly looking over to Andrew again. “It was designed as a cheaper more accessible version of the Beretta M9, which is the American military weapon of choice. Reliable. Accurate. Not a bad gun overall, as long as you know how to handle it.”
“You shot them!” The asshole fumed.
Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “If you don’t know how to handle a weapon than you shouldn’t be holding it.”
“Gun nut.” Andrew stated with his mouth twitching upwards.
“I think the preferred term is enthusiast.” He corrected, reassessing his thoughts around how dangerous Andrew could be. “Four?” He asked again.
“Homophobic jackasses.” Andrew commented drily. “Had nothing better to do than hang around outside a specialist club and try to beat the gay out of anyone who looked at them for too long.”
“And they picked your… guardian?” He clarified, trying to piece together the information.
Andrew hummed. “Nicky doesn’t have much self-preservation.”
“Aren’t you a bit young to be hanging out at a club?”
“I work there.” Andrew eyed him curiously. “I was on smoko out the back when they jumped Nicky.”
“So, you put four of them in hospital.” Nathaniel nodded in understanding. “Sounds fair to me.”
“Pity you’re not the arresting pig.”
Nathaniel bit back a laugh and let the cell drop into silence again.
It was another hour before the cop stopped by with an older woman dressed in grey slacks and carrying a briefcase. They paused at the cell door and observed them quietly before turning their attention to Andrew and Nathaniel pointedly. Nathaniel kept his eyes forward on the opposite wall and the only movement Andrew made was to continue picking flecks of dried blood from his hands and flicking them to the floor.
The cop turned to the woman with a roll of his eyes. “Which delinquent do you want first?”
“They are children, Officer Wright, not delinquents.” She stated, calm and collected despite the hour.
“Which child would you like to speak with first,” the cop tried again with a bite of frustration to his words. “The one that put four men in the hospital with his fists, or the one that put two men in hospital with a gun?”
The woman remained un-ruffled, turning her gaze on the cop for only a moment. “But it wasn’t his gun, was it?”
The cop decided to shut his mouth after that, gesturing to the pair of them instead and waiting for her decision.
“I’d like to speak with Mr Doe first.” She said, her eyes settling on Nathaniel.
Andrews head snapped up, anger flitting over his features before quickly being filed away again. When Nathaniel made no move to stand, he nudged him with his elbow. “I haven’t been Doe since my last stint at Juvie.” He stated, keeping his attention fixed to Nathaniel now. “I guess that means they’re referring to you this time.”
“Andrew…” The cop drawled in warning.
“Pig.” He returned simply before returning to his grooming.
“I will be with you shortly, Mr Minyard.” The woman said almost gently, gesturing for Nathaniel to get up.
“Sooner than you think.” The cop grumbled as he opened the cell up to let him out. “Kid hasn’t said a single word yet.”
That got a snort of laughter from the tattooed man in the corner, accompanied by a quiet. “Give ‘em hell, kid.”
Nathaniel kept his mouth shut and followed the lady through the halls to yet another interview room where she polite requested the guards removing his cuffs and requested a couple of cans of soda from the vending machine they had passed on the way. The guard grumbled, but did as was requested, coming back in with a pair of cokes as the woman laid out her folder, notepad and pens on the desk.
“Let me introduced myself,” she started her spiel, practiced and polite. “My name is Ms Willoughby. But you may also call me Diana, Anne or Miss as you prefer. I am not here to be your enemy, though I know a lot of people have little in the way of good things to say about CPS, but I assure you, I am here to see things done with your best interest in mind.”
She paused here to study him closely. Nathaniel kept his hands on his thighs, not touching the offered drink in front of him, but keeping his own expression politely blank. He had no interest in co-operating, but he didn’t need to make her night harder than it already was.
“Do you have a name you would prefer me to use?” She asked, tapping the folder to the side of her. “They have only referred to you as John Doe so far and I can’t imagine that’s a comfortable name to have…” She waited, carefully calculating, before deciding to press on with his lack of response. “Well, Mr Doe. Let’s begin by discussing your rights and move on to what will happen next…”
Nathaniel sat through the spiel quietly, giving her nothing but patient silence as she did her level best to engage with him. He almost felt bad for her. She was strict and kind in her words and actions, with a no-nonsense demeaner that must have come from years of this kind of work. He figured she was the type to truly care about what happens to the kids placed in her care.
Eventually, she gave up. Temporarily, of course. Deciding it was in her best interest to move onto Andrews case while he thought about co-operating with her.
The cuffs were placed back on, and he was led back to the holding cell once more.
The only thing that had change since his departure was the fighting friends had moved closer together on the bench to make way for the cells newest edition beside them. A man in his twenties with acne scars and a bright green mohawk that stood out in the dreary room. The man sized him up slowly with a leer and a click of his tongue that struck Andrew’s attention across the room.
Nathaniel moved back into place while Andrew stared down their newest edition.
“Mr Minyard?” Ms Willoughby called out after checking that Nathaniel was as comfortably situated as he could be on the hard metal benches. “Would you mind following me?”
Andrew flicked his eyes to her for a moment before turning his attention on Nathaniel, leaning into his space to speak quietly in his ear. “Watch your back, Chatty Kathy.”
Nathaniel didn’t have longer than a second to process the warning before Andrew was gone, leaving him with a sinking feeling of dread.
The greasy haired asshole that got him into this mess smirks at him, leaning forward on his knees as the cell door is locked with an audible thud.
None of the detainees move to from their places, content to wait out the cops who may be lingering in the hall. This does nothing to stop Nathaniel from running all variety of scenarios through his head as he processes the new addition to the cell and how that might change his chances in a fight. The tattooed guy doesn’t seem like a real threat, but Nathaniel doubts he could rely on him for assistance either. He’s suddenly disappointed that Andrew and his violent and bored demeanour are now out of play. If he needed backup, Andrew might have been the only one willing to interfere.
Nathaniel shook that thought from his head. He didn’t know the guy and no-one who can hospitalise four grown men with nothing but their bare fists should be relied upon for help.
Much like the tattooed guy, the fighting friends seemed more interested in keeping their own company than involving themselves in any disputes that might arise between the rest of them. Which left the greasy asshole and whoever the fuck the mohawk guy was. He couldn’t peg any connection or similarities between them, other than the distinct slimy feeling he got under their gaze, but that doesn’t mean their weren’t any, and money or favours owed can go a long way between criminals. He should know, after all.
With no clock in sight from their cell, Nathaniel took to counting the minutes in his head. He had been out of the cell for just shy of an hour before Ms Willoughby had given up on trying to get him to speak, so depending how chatty Andrew felt like being and assuming no new detainees would be coming in the meantime, they had an hour to press the advantage against him.
He estimated it at 20 mins after Andrew departure when the men shared a long look and slowly got to their feet. There wasn’t anywhere to go in this rectangular room, but they moved forward like they were intending to box him in from either side. He slid himself into the corner before they could get close enough to grab an arm each and cause him more issues.
Fighting from a corner was never ideal, but when it limited the amount of opponents that could get their hands on you at once… well, Nathaniel preferred his odds at one on one where possible and the corner would inevitably block the second man out long enough for him to do some damage.
It was the greasy haired fiend that boxed him in first, taking the seat beside him with a delighted smile as his mohawk friend lent against the wall with a grin.
“Still feeling confident, kid?” He smiled pushing into his space until they were touching from shoulder to thigh.
The motion reminded him of Lola draping her arms over him to keep him in place when he was a child, knowing that the pain would only get worse if he struggled against her. But this wasn’t Lola. This guy smelled like grease and BO where she had smelled like acrid perfume and blood to match the shade painted on her lips.
Nathaniel shook of those thoughts and forced himself to focus on the present. “Are you sure you want to play this game again?”
The asshole responded by balling his hand into a fist, and twisting as he punched it into his gut. Nathaniel doubled over at having the wind knocked out of him but he managed to lock the guys arms in place with his arms, holding him there as he regained his breath. A quick grab with his hands and he was able to yank his attacker hard enough by the front of his jacket to slam the side of his head into the wall above him. He wasted no time getting the cuffs over the back of the assholes head to bring it down on his knee before he had a chance to defend against it, kicking him away and sending sprawling and dazed against the floor of the cell.
“You little...” The mohawk started, turning his attention from the man on the floor to Nathaniel.
Nathaniel scrambled back, stepping up on the bench to give him a height advantage this time. Mohawk stumbled his way through throwing a clumsy fist with his hands tied together. Nathaniel used his distraction to throw his hand over the back of his neck and jumping down from the bench to twist them around till his back was at the wall again and mohawk was on his knees facing the rest of the cell with his handcuffs digging into his throat as Nathaniel pulled them both down to keep the pressure on. Mohawk struggle to grab his hands and pull them away from his neck as he gasped for breath. Nathaniel pressed a knee into his back to hold him in place as one of the other guys shouted for assistance.
Footsteps came quick and heavy, pounding up the hallway to the holding cells.
“Get him out of there!” A stern woman’s voice demanded before Nathaniel could look to the new arrivals.
He wasn’t surprised to find that it belonged to the CPS lady. She stood over the cop the as he unlocked the door to get into the cell faster. Andrew stood to the side of her with a smirk of amusement playing on his lips.
“Let him go!” The cop order as he came through the door.
Nathaniel loosened his hold and pulled his hands away from the man, holding them up as mohawk scrambled forward, to show he was complying before the cop got any thoughts about using the baton on his hip.
“This is why minors are to be held separate from adults!” Ms Willoughby continued to pinned the cops with her disapproving stare, shifting to stare them down with her hands on her hips.
“In case you haven’t noticed,” The cop replied grabbing Nathaniel by the arm to haul him forward over the bodies of his attackers. “It’s a full moon in here tonight!”
“That might work with you Captain, but you also have a row of interview rooms standing empty that they could be placed in for their own safety.” She continued to argue, gesturing for Andrew to remain where he was in the hall until they backed down to her demands.
“Fine.” The cop gave in pulling him out of the cell and locking the door up behind him.
“Your dead, kid.” Mohawk said darkly, sitting up and dragging a thumb across his neck in what was supposed to be an intimidating gesture.
Nathaniel didn’t bother to respond, but he caught the huff of air Andrew let out at the words.
“Thought you said I was your biggest problem tonight, Pig.”
“Andrew,” He warned in return. “Your problems are only just starting. Just because your bail is getting covered for the night doesn’t mean you won’t be heading back to juvie.”
“I know the drill.” Andrew brushed him off, unconcerned.
“This way then.”
They were guided back to the room Ms Willoughby had used with him earlier with a guard posted at the door. Ms Willoughby requested the cuffs be removed from the both of them again, which the pig grumbled about before acquiescing.
“Don’t get any ideas about picking a fight with each other,” He warned before leaving. “You’re still being supervised, and any more problems and I’ll be keeping you to send to Juvie Hall instead.”
Andrew didn’t acknowledge the words as he strode across the room, kicking a chair away from the table noisily and plopping himself down in it.
“We’ll be fine.” Nathaniel decided. Confident that Andrew had no intentions of doing him any harm for the rest of their stay.
“Oh, he speaks!” The cop said sarcastically, eyeing him again. “Got someone you want us to call for you yet?”
Nathaniel ignored him, moving to take a seat opposite Andrew.
It didn’t take long for the door to shut as the cop gave up on getting an answer once again. Nathaniel would appreciate that they at least knew when to give up with his silence. He had been trained from a young age not to give anything away, not that he’d always been good at following that directive, but after 16 years and a hot iron to the shoulder, he had certainly learned when to reel in his emotions and give nothing away.
Andrew sitting across from him had presented another challenge completely. He had been around plenty of shady people in the past, but none had struck him as the epitome of a human lie detector before. Andrew seemed to have his ability to look in and through a person all at once. Something that placed him on edge but also made him wonder ‘what if?’.
“Do you have a name?” Andrew asked, looking at the wall behind him. “Or am I going to continue to call you Doe?”
Nathaniel looked to the camera mounted in the top of the corner, red light blinking to acknowledge that they were being watched.
“That doesn’t haver audio.” He stated when he caught the look.
“No,” Nathaniel agreed. “But the two-way glass does have a mic in here.”
Andrew glanced back at the mirror behind him. “Nothing that’s applicable in the court of law.”
He blinked trying to formulate the best response. “That won’t stop a dirty cop from using it against you.”
Andrew tilted his head in interest, looking through him once more. “No,” he agreed. “But most people don’t need to worry about a thing like that.”
“No.” Nathaniel admitted, but deliberately failed to elaborate on.
Andrew stared at him for a minute, waiting for further explanation before getting up to press his face to the mirror, cupping his hands around his eyes to help him focus on seeing through the glass to the hidden room behind it.
“There’s no one in there.” He declared. “And they don’t record with that mic, anyway.”
“Why are you so interested.”
Andrew shrugged and turned his back on the mirror, flopping back down into his seat as he considered Nathaniel’s question. “You have managed to become the most interesting part of my night.” He admitted slowly, like he wasn’t quite sure why he was responding. “It’s hard to come by people who have a knack for causing as much trouble as I can… and the gun thing, that is intriguing.”
“I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Nathaniel drawled slowly, trying to pass it off for nonchalance. “I am surprised you came back with the CPS lady so quickly, she had me in there with her for double the time.”
“Helps that they official got hold of my guardian.” Andrew mused, leaning back in his chair and planting his feet up on the table. “Nicky’s lucid enough to sign himself out of hospital, so Aaron’s driving him over to pick me up.”
“If Nicky is the guardian, then Aaron is…?”
“Wondering how nosy you can be without offering any answers of your own.” He called him out with a single, judgmentally raised, brow.
Nathaniel bit his lip to keep from smiling at the call out. “Fair.” He decided. “Since we’re stuck here together, and I’ll never see you again after tonight, I’m willing to be honest about certain things. Just don’t push your luck.”
Andrew hummed, thumbing the edge of his jaw in thought. “You could have been out of here the moment you gave them a name or guardians number, instead you shut your mouth and got penned in with the guy whose ass you just kicked.” He mused out loud. “Makes me think you don’t want to go home. Or maybe you don’t have a home and you’re trying to outrun the system.”
“Right on most counts.” Nathaniel admitted, schooling his face into something unreadable. “But not in the way you’re thinking.”
“Okay, Runaway.” He looked at him carefully. “Where did you learn how to handle a gun?”
Nathaniel huffed in amusement, glad he hadn’t asked for a name again. “My parents always had guns, but it wasn’t until I stayed with my Uncle for a few months that I became interested in them. He would be what you would call a gun nut. So, Aaron and Nicky?”
“Brother.” Andrew offered in return. “Our cousin Nicky took us in when we lost our last guardian. He hoped to save us from the upbring of his own fanatical parents.”
“And you work at an inclusive nightclub and beat up homophobes on your break.” He smiled, liking the picture of Andrews life he was seeing.
“Have to pay the bills somehow.” He looked like he was about to ask something else when the door opened again.
Officer Wright and Ms Willoughby stepped into the room and halted before reaching the table. The cop tapped Andrew shoes in warning to get them of the table, eyeing him down until Andrew conceded and dropped both feet onto the floor, each with a heavy thump that echoed in the bare room.
“Good news for the pair of you.” Ms Willoughby started, looking between them to gauge their reactions. “Andrew, you guardian is at the desk sorting out your release, and Adam-“
Nathaniel flinched at the name, knowing there was only one person who could have given it to them.
“Your mother has just arrived.”
Nathaniel tried to discreetly wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans, but Andrew pegged the movement quickly allowing a sneer to take control of his face.
“Now, now, Annie.” Andrew addressed Ms Willoughby condescendingly. “Do you think a boy flinching from the mention of his mother should just be handed back over to her. Especially a boy who had no problem defending himself against a cell full of adults.”
“Andrew.” Nathaniel hissed in warning, catching his eyes and shaking his head imperceptibly, silently pleading for him not to make this worse for him.
“Adam.” Andrew countered, staring him down with that x-ray vision that made him feel exposed. Nathaniel dropped his gaze to the table, feeling more boxed in here than when he had a gun pointed at his head. “Can’t you call that uncle of yours? He’s the only person you’ve mentioned without twitching.”
“That’s not…” He started before remembering to shut his mouth before he got himself in more trouble.
“Unfortunately,” Ms Willoughby said looking at Nathaniel in concern. “Without a complaint against the parent?” She paused, giving him an opening to say something to allow her interference. Nathaniel kept his mouth shut and his eyes down. “I can’t stop a mother from taking her son home.”
Silence settled over the room thickly when no one had anything more to add. They all knew something was wrong here and the hopelessness was oppressive.
“Come on, Andrew.” The cop prodded gently. “Nicky and Aaron are waiting for you.”
Andrew didn’t acknowledge him, but shifted to lean forward over the table and waited for Nathaniel to meet his gaze. When he did, Nathaniel found himself trapped in the depth of his eyes, with something behind the look that he couldn’t quite place.
“Do yourself a favour.” Andrew said quietly as if there weren’t two other people listening in. “Ditch the dead weight, you’ll survive longer on your own.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He argued weakly, mostly out of habit.
“Don’t I?” Andrew pinned him with a look of pure understanding that nearly took his breath away.
Nathaniel wanted to argue, but the thought of his mother waiting for him in the other. Waiting for him with heavy hands, bags already packed and a lecture of how badly he’d screwed things up for them again. His mouth went dry and he didn’t bother even trying to defend himself again.
Andrew gave him a look that said ‘exactly’ and raised from his chair to follow the pig through the halls to his own family.
Nathaniel stared after him. Stunned, to say the least, that someone could so clearly pinpoint his lies, his falsehoods, his survival instincts. It left him sitting in silence, doing the same thing he had done when the cops showed up at the convenience store. Shutting his mouth and avoiding his mother.
Maybe Andrew Minyard, had a point.