Elliot...
You made me this way, bastard...
So don't just leave me like this.
Don't leave me alone.
~
Why is it that people always felt the need to fuck with somebody? Police or not, why not just live on with their lives and leave other people the hell alone?
Cyan thought these irrational thoughts as he stood across the street from his apartment and watched as the entire complex was surrounded by police cars. They were here for Elliot, that much was obvious, but Elliot wasn't there and wouldn't be there for at least another day. By that time, though, Elliot would have been informed about this and wouldn't dare come back.
So that meant Cyan couldn't either.
So where was he to go? With the police up Carter's ass, it was damn near impossible to go to him and ask to stay for the night and his friends moved so damn much that they could've been anywhere in the city. Cyan couldn't even go get his car, the keys inside of the apartment. He was fucked. Unwanted memories were beginning to surface at the familiarity of the situation and Cyan hated the anxious feeling that was trying to claw it's way up his spine.
Ever since he had linked with Elliot, Cyan had never not had a place to go. Elliot always worked everything out to make sure of that. Now he was miles away and Cyan was alone.
Staying on the streets was dangerous, especially when Elliot had rivals that could quite easily get to him now and the possibility of getting arrested was higher than usual. The negatives of it all made Cyan want to scream.
The small baggie of the drug was suddenly heavy in his hand and Cyan wanted nothing more but to find some alley to sulk in while on the drug. Yet, common sense told Cyan that he would need a sober mind to deal with this shit.
And the fact pissed him off for some reason...
The voice inside his head fought with him, a soft and voice, that coaxed him away from the better judgment and pulled towards the judgment that the drug had given him. It was almost impossible not to succumb to it.
Doing drugs had made his self-control weak to the point that it didn't even matter if the decision to do drugs would kill him. If there was ever a scenario that made him choose between not shooting up and living or shooting up and dying, he would choose the drug. He would always choose the drug every time. Common sense be damned. He needed this. He was dying already, why not speed the process?
With a scoop of the powder coating his finger, Cyan brought the drug up to his nose and breathed it in hard. It took a couple minutes for it to absorb before he started to feel the familiar effect that ran through his brain and with a smile on his face, Cyan began to mindlessly walk.
The world around him seemed less fucked.
His mind was less fucked, and he was soon slipping under the veil of the drug's happiness. Everything seemed like those cartoons where the sun was shining bright, a smile on its face and the animals seemed to be singing. Cyan wanted to sing back, his head and heart feeling light.
If only reality could be this bright and carefree like it was when he was high. There were no negative emotions such as fear or anger but only contentment and a deep wave of happiness that overwhelmed his body. Time flew within the slightest clue from Cyan and he walked in the drug-induced daze for what seemed like hours. Days possibly. He didn't bother to focus on anything else around him because nothing else mattered in the real world. Well, nothing mattered until hands suddenly grabbed his wrist and jerked into reality.
"Cyan."
Confused, Cyan looked up at the male that had a hold on him, trying to take his hand back. "Lemme go."
"Not even a fucking hour. It hasn't even been an hour and you're back again." Carter said in a harsh whisper as if trying to keep his voice down from something. This was when Cyan had realized that he had walked to his brother's shop despite knowing the danger, and had wandered through the back door. "There's a fucking cop in the front and you come in here making a loud ass noise as if you want to get arrested!"
Cyan shrugged, slumping against Carter's arm and forcing Carter to lay him on the ground of the back storage room, leaning him against the back door that he had come in.
"Mr. Jacobs, are you alright?" A voice called out, causing Carter to glare and let go of Cyan. "Not a fucking sound Cyan, I swear to God," he said, quickly walking out and shutting the door behind him. Cyan waved goodbye lazily, lolling his head back and looking at the ceiling.
He was hungry.
~
Mason had decided to bother his favorite person of interest in this entire case, but Carter didn't seem too thrilled to see him. That was fine though, no one was ever pleased to have the police visit. He wasn't here for fun though, a good feeling settling in his chest as Richard had called him with some news. The older man had spotted them, both Carter and Cyan together earlier. He had watched Cyan and knew where he was.
Not that Mason would ever tell Carter that, the male would probably lose his mind.
"Is everything okay?" Mason asked Carter as he came back from the back with an annoyed look on his face. They had heard a noise and Carter was the one to investigate. He didn't seem to happy about his decision though.
"Yeah, there's a rat problem next door and I guess one managed to get inside of here."
"Sucks."
Mason felt his phone vibrate in his pocket but ignored it for the moment as he placed his chin on his hand. "I'm curious..."
"You know what they say about curiosity. Maybe you should stop while you're ahead." Carter nonchalantly said, going back to checking the paperwork that a client had just given him and writing some note. The woman that was his client, had been ushered into the room and patiently waited for Carter to come back.
"We went to the apartments that Elliot and Cyan were alleged to stay in but nothing was there. All the information on it was correct though, so we know there were there."
"Bummer," Carter muttered, taking out a sketchbook and flipping to an empty page.
"Where could they have gone?" Mason pushed slightly, leaning over to see the small notes Carter made in the corner before the male slammed the book closed and walked into the backroom with the woman.
"Don't know." he had called out to Mason, sitting by the woman and beginning to speak with her. Mason couldn't hear what they were saying and he knew that once Carter was preoccupied with a client, he wouldn't focus on anything else. So Mason grabbed his phone and checked the message that he had been sent.
Call me, it read and Mason quickly called Richard back.
"Mason, I have some news that I think will make your day a little brighter!" Richard chirped happily, the sound of a car engine cutting off. "I just parked outside of Cyan's brother's tattoo place."
"Okay, and?"
"He's in there Mason."
Glancing over at Carter, Mason stood up with a frown. "Cyan? Are you positive."
"I've been watching him since I saw him this morning, of course I'm positive. Now hurry up before something happens like someone associated with Elliot finds out that we know. Do you need backup or something?"
"He's barely an adult; he's still a kid. I think I'll be fine." Mason rolled his eyes before hanging up the phone and glancing back into the room with Carter. The male was standing up with the woman and heading out. "I'll have some concepts drawn up in a couple hours and we'll get started. I'll call you if anything changes." Carter said, his attention moving from the smiling woman and going to Mason as he forced his way past Carter and towards the back.
"Woah, what the hell are you doing?" He asked Mason, following after him.
"Where is he?"
"Have you gone fucking mad, mate?" Carter asked, annoyance clearly shown on his face as he slammed the sketchbook on his counter. "This has to be against some law."
It was only when Mason had stormed into the back, about to open the door to the storage room that Carter had slammed his hand in the door and glared at Mason. "You need to leave."
"Unless you want a ride to the precinct, I suggest you move."
"On what grounds?"
"Obstruction of a criminal investigation. Move." Mason ordered, returning the heated glare that he received from the other male. Cyan was here, that was evident by the defensive nature that Carter suddenly had.
"You can't take him." Carter finally said after a long silence, standing straighter and placing his hand down on the doorknob.
"Why the hell not?"
Opening the storage room slowly, Carter stalked in, instantly moving towards a drugged-out Cyan. The said male hadn't even noticed that they had come in, still smiling up at the ceiling as if it had been the most entertaining and hypnotic thing that he's ever seen.
"There'd be no point in it. Do you honestly believe that he'd tell you anything about Elliot? Do you believe that he'd even talk to you?"
"He's still both a witness and accomplice."
"You'll die if you take him. It'll get back to Elliot and once that happens, there's no way in hell that you'll able to hide from him. Are you gonna take that fucking chance?"
Mason walked over to Cyan, leaning down and snapping his fingers in front of Cyan's dilated eyes. There wasn't even a flinch from the said male as if they weren't even there. It was scary to Mason, how still the boy seemed, almost as if he were dead.
"Are you not worried about this?" Mason asked with a deep frown, grabbing Cyans limp hands and placing the cuffs on them. It was an unnecessary move considering Cyan wouldn't fight back in this state, but Mason knew that on drugs, the male could lash out any second.
"Of course I am but my worry isn't going to change what he does." Grabbing Cyan's arm roughly and pulling him up to his feet, Carter protectively held Cyan up against his chest. "I'll hold him. He'll freak out once he realizes that you're touching him and trust me, it's not a pretty sight."
"Carter, there's fucking airplanes in the building," Cyan uttered, looking back up in amazement and disbelief. "They're gonna crash, I swear to God," he whispered, reaching his handcuffed arms out in front of Carter's face and reaching up to an imaginary plane.
"Cyan, hold still."
"It's gonna fucking crash!" he repeated, this time more urgent. Cyan finally held his own weight up, ducking slightly down ever so often as Carter led him out. "As long as he doesn't overdose, though, Cyan is normally fine. Episodes like this are normal for him."
If Cyan was sober, he would've agreed with Carter. While many times, the effects of the drugs would have him zoned out in his own bright and vibrant world, most of the times it also had him hallucinating and believing that the distortions of his mind were reality. Sure sometimes it would go to the extremes, but Cyan was still alive so it couldn't have been that bad.
"You're wasting your time Mason. You're dumb as hell for risking your life over this case. Elliot already won years ago. You know that, I know that, and I'm sure Elliot knows that too. Why is this case still open?"
"Because people are dying at his hands!" Mason snapped as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world. Not only were there the people dying that owed Elliot money or that went against him, but there was also innocent people's death on the drug lord's hands for the simple fact that they had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Elliot didn't care, if you were a witness to even seeing him, you were dead. It was shocking to Mason that Elliot hadn't killed Carter, considering he knew way more than he was supposed to, but it was no doubt due to Cyan.
Sitting Cyan in one of the tattooing chairs, Carter turned to Mason with a cocked brow. "What are you gonna do with my brother?"
Faced with the question, Mason just stood there unsure. It seemed surreal now that he had actually gotten the male and made even a dent in the progress of the case, but what was he gonna do with him? Taking him back to the precinct had been his initial intention, but that had changed the more he thought about it.
Who could he actually trust there? Elliot knew a lot of people and there was no doubt in Mason's mind that someone within the department was working for him. If they ever found out that Mason had succeeded in getting Cyan, word would get back to Elliot and who knows what could happen next.
The next option was to call his caption and tell him about this. The thing about that though, was that Cyan was technically a "witness" among other things and because they needed him to testify, however the hell they were going to get him to do that, he would be placed under police protection and get assigned a U.S Marshal.
Mason was a selfish bastard though. He didn't work this damn hard to find Cyan, only to have the male taken away from him. Though it seemed as if his work had been done in vain though, the male practically coming to him, Mason still wanted to be the one to convince him to testify. He wanted the credit of taking down Elliot's empire and he wasn't going to back down.
"Well?" Carter asked, his pissed tone acute. "Because if you don't know, you might as well allow him to go and find another case to work with. Maybe an easier one. I heard a group of kids vandalized a 7/11, maybe you should go check that out."
"I need to make a phone call," Mason muttered, grabbing his phone and dialing Richard's number. If anyone knew what to do, it would be him. Especially considering that the man had been with the department for a long time. Wasn't there a saying about the oldest being the wisest?
"Mason? What's going on, do you have him?" Richard asked as soon as he had picked up the phone, his voice holding an edge to it. "Do you need help?
"No, I'm fine and yes I have him. The thing about it though, is I'm not taking him back to get booked in. It's too dangerous."
"I agree with you completely." Richard had said, shocking Mason. He had expected something along the lines of 'are you insane!?' or 'Mason, we have to!' Not Richard agreeing with him.
"You do?"
"Yes. I have my doubts about the people we work with too. We just need a place to keep him for now until the trial. Until then, we can't allow anyone to know that we found him."
Mason glanced at Cyan, watching him reach out for Carter and speaking to him about those damn airplanes again, this time calling them 'aeroplanes.'
"Yeah, but where?"
"Well I mean, your house for now. You're single, my wife would have a fit."
Mason frowned at the suggestion, not wanting Cyan to stay with him with the fear that he'd kill him in his sleep. That and who was to say that he wouldn't try to escape.
"For now, okay." Mason reluctantly agreed, sighing before he hung the phone up. He looked back at Carter's expectant glare.
"We're not gonna take him to get booked, but we are holding him in custody for the time being."
"That doesn't even make sense," Carter said with annoyance as he helped Cyan from out of the chair and towards the front entrance. "So he's not under arrest?"
Mason frowned slightly as he glanced outside and saw the police car that Richard had come in parked close to the door. They would have to hurry and get Cyan to the car before anyone was able to spot him. "While he's deemed a witness, no. His trial will come though, but it's dependent on how well he cooperates with the police on the time he spends in prison. He might not even make it that far if he willingly helps."
"There's honestly no way in hell that's gonna happen. Not unless Elliot wants him to."
Mason shrugged, leading them quickly out of the shop and towards the vehicle. Richard jumped at the sudden opening in of the door and the male being placed inside by Carter. Then, his surprise turned into worry.
"Is he okay?" The older male asked as Mason shut the door and got into the passenger side of the car.
"He's on something."
"Being around drugs most of the time, I wouldn't particularly doubt it," Richard mused.
Carter stood outside of the car with his arms crossed and a deep frown on his face. Mason knew that he didn't like this, but he wished that Carter understood that being in custody was better than being on the streets.
Right?
The streets were too dangerous, even for Cyan. At least, that what Mason's logic was as they drove away from the tattoo parlor and towards his home.