Different

by scribblemoose

Ryo smoothed back Bikky's unruly blonde hair, and sighed. The boy was sleeping at last, curled up into a secure little ball, one loose fist close to his face, as if he were sucking his thumb. The years seemed to fall away from him as he slipped further into sleep. It was easy to forget, sometimes, how young Bikky really was.

Ryo cast a critical eye over the boy's bandaged wrist. Only a sprain after all. For a while there, when he'd heard the screams echoing down the school corridor... he'd been terrified. Not knowing what could possibly have happened. Fearing the worst. That was an occupational hazard, of course: in Ryo's line of work screaming usually meant something very, very bad had happened.

Fortunately in this case it was nothing worse than a playground accident: or at least that's what the school nurse told him. It was only later, at the hospital, that he started to have doubts. Even before the doctor called him in, Ryo had been putting two and two together. The bruises on Bikky's arms; the rapidly developing black eye; the cut on his cheek. The confusion that the nurse thought was concussion, or the pain of a broken wrist. Ryo's professional eye recognised it instantly as something else.

Bikky hadn't had run into something because he was skating too fast. He'd been held down and beaten, and his wrist was injured in his struggle to escape.

Because he was different.

Bikky was stubbornly brave about it, of course. All the way back from the hospital, he insisted that he was fine, denied that anything had happened other than he'd misjudged a turn. He threw a sulk when Ryo refused to drop him at Carol's, insisting he should come home and rest. But later, when Ryo was cooking him dinner, he fell oddly silent. Perched on a stool near the counter where Ryo was chopping vegetables, he fiddled with the corner of his bandage.

"Who were they, Bikky?" Ryo asked, softly.

Bikky opened his mouth, ready for another denial, but his eyes caught Ryo's, and the mask fell away. People found it very hard to lie to Ryo when he looked at them that way. It was one of the things that made him such a good cop.

"Just kids," said Bikky, so quietly that Ryo could barely hear him. "No-one important."

"Do they go to your school?"

"I can fight my own battles, thanks." Defiant. Angry.

"Of course you can. But you don't have to."

He didn't answer, eyes cast down, fixed on the floor.

"Bikky-"

"Keep out of it, Ryo. It's none... I don't want any special treatment. I don't, want, please. Don't."

"Alright," he said, carefully. "Whatever you want." He tossed the neatly chopped vegetables into the waiting pan. "Were they from your school?"

"No. One of them. But he didn't do much."

"High school kids?"

"I guess. I didn't want any trouble, honest, Ryo. It wasn't my fault, at least, I ... they..."

"It's alright," said Ryo. "I'm not mad. I want to help."

"Can I go watch TV now?" Bikky asked, abruptly, sliding off the stool without waiting for Ryo's reply.

"Okay," said Ryo redundantly, as Bikky padded through to the living room.

They ate in front of the TV, Ryo reading through files for a new case he and Dee had been given. It was hard to concentrate, though. His eyes were continually drawn to Bikky; his eye now swollen so much he could hardly open it; his wrist obviously aching as he unconsciously stroked it. He'd barely taken his attention from the TV for nearly an hour, which was about ten times Bikky's usual attention span, especially as he appeared to be watching the news.

Ryo cleared the dishes, and came back with an ice pack.

"Here. Put this on your eye. It'll keep the swelling down."

"Thanks," said Bikky, gruffly.

"You're welcome. You want anything else to eat? There's ice cream, or-"

"Nah. Thanks."

"Bikky... have they done anything like this before?"

He shrugged.

"Because if they-"

"Leave it. It doesn't matter."

"You're hurt. If you hadn't been able to get away..." Ryo suppressed a shudder at what might have happened. He'd come to care for the kid so much over the past few months; the thought that anyone would hurt him so badly...

"I did get away."

"But-"

"All I have to do is fight harder than anyone else. I'm getting stronger all the time. Next time, it'll be them, not me."

"Oh, Bikky, no. That's not the way," Ryo said gently.

"What else can I do? I won't let them push me around. I'm as good as anyone."

"There are other ways."

"Not for me. I'll always be the odd one out. The one the other kids pick on. Always have been. I can stand up for myself, Ryo, don't think that I can't."

"I don't doubt that for a second. But think, Bikky. It's one thing when it's kids in the playground. It doesn't work that way when you're grown up."

"Yes it does. You fight people all the time."

"That's different. It's my job."

"So?"

"There's other ways than fighting. Even in police work. Fighting never solves anything."

"You make it sound like it's my fault." There was an unmistakable tremble to Bikky's voice.

"Oh, God, of course it's not. Don't think that. Don't ever think that." Ryo reached out to put an arm around Bikky's shoulder, but he flinched away.

"I want to dye my hair. The nurse said..." his voice was cracking; he held back tears only by sheer force of will, his body trembling with the effort of it.

"Oh, Bikky, no." Ryo reached out again, stroked Bikky's fair locks back from his face, unresisted this time. "No, of course you shouldn't. Carol would never forgive you, for one thing."

Bikky scowled at him, one tear escaping from his good eye and streaking down his face.

"It wasn't just the hair. They said ... stupid stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"About Dad. It doesn't matter." He wiped the tears away roughly with the back of his hand.

"Oh."

"The drugs. He was evil, sold crack to kids. And..." Bikky sobbed, still fighting his own tears. "They said I'd end up like him, because I-"

"No." Ryo pulled Bikky into his arms, kissed the top of his head. "No, you won't."

"I know, I say that, but I can't... help..."

And then the tears came.

Ryo held him close, cradling the shuddering little body in his arms. He let the kid cry himself out, offering what comfort he could. Not for the first time, he realised what a charmed life he'd led, at least until he was eighteen. It was bad enough to lose his parents then, but at least he had happy memories of a loving family. Bikky didn't even have that.

He deserved better. He deserved a proper childhood, before it was too late. With holidays, and Christmas, and school, and friends. Otherwise what would happen to him? He probably would turn out like his father, lost to crime, full of anger and bitterness. Ryo couldn't bear the thought. He'd promised himself he'd do his best to offer Bikky more than that, and he would.

Bikky had almost fallen asleep, his body still wracked with the occasional sob. Ryo gently woke him up enough that he could get ready for bed, tucked him in and sat with him until he was properly asleep.

He had no idea what to do about any of it. It was one thing to take a kid in and give him a bed and meals, and keep him in school. Actual parenting was another thing entirely. Should he go and talk to Bikky's teachers? Find out who the kids were and sort them out behind Bikky's back? Send Bikky for self defence lessons?

He could imagine the snorts of derision - or worse - that Bikky would greet any of those options with.

Ryo sighed, stroking back Bikky's soft, fair hair from dark skin swollen purple.

"Ryo?"

He jumped: he hadn't even heard the door open. Dee's unmistakable voice echoed through the apartment, giving him butterflies like no-one else's did.

Which was ridiculous, Ryo reminded himself.

He turned the light off, and shut Bikky's door quietly behind him. Dee was in the living room, a bottle of wine in one hand, grinning at him.

"Shh," said Ryo. "Bikky's just got to sleep."

"The kid's here?" Dee's grin switched to a resentful frown.

"Of course he's here," snapped Ryo. "It's his home." He wasn't in the mood for Dee's stupid jealousy tonight, butterflies or no butterflies.

"Alright, alright. Don't bite my head off. He usually goes to sleepover at Carol's on a Thursday, that's all."

When did Dee notice that? Ryo wondered. I'm sure I never said anything. "He had some trouble at school."

"Tell me about it? Over a glass of this?" Dee waved the bottle at him. It was more than tempting.

"Okay. Thanks." Ryo smiled, despite himself. "Sorry."

Dee smiled back. "Corkscrew?"

"I'll go get it. Make yourself at home."

Not that Dee ever did anything else, but Ryo rather liked that, truth be told. It was good to have someone else around, another grown up. Someone to talk to, relax with.

And that was all. Obviously. Absolutely.

He returned to the living room with a corkscrew and two glasses; Dee had turned down the lights, lit the little tray of candles on the low table, put soft jazz on the stereo. Ryo curled up next to him on the couch, already starting to feel better.

"You want a backrub or something?" Dee suggested, far too innocently.

"I'm fine," said Ryo, firmly. "Thanks."

"So what did the kid do this time?" If Dee was disappointed, he was resolutely not showing it. He grappled with cork and corkscrew for a moment, then started to fill their glasses.

"He got beaten up. Badly. I'm scared for him, Dee."

"No need, man. Bikky can take care of himself."

"That's what I'm scared of." Ryo took a sip of wine, and another. It tasted delicious; he was relaxing, even before the alcohol could have hit his system. Just being here, with Dee, was...

Nice.

"How d'you mean?"

"I'm worried that he'll get himself into trouble. Or worse still, become like the kids he's defending himself against. Hard and bitter. He's too young to be bitter, Dee... and you know how it works. If he gets in a fight, whoever started it, he's an easy target for blame."

"Because he's half black?"

"Because he's already been in trouble, because of his father, and yes, I suppose, because he's different. There's so many bastards out there-"

"And you want to protect him."

"Yes." Ryo took another mouthful of wine, and darted a look at Dee, already imagining his teasing, mocking expression, waiting for the lecture on how Bikky was playing him, wasn't worth the trouble.

But Dee just smiled at him, gently, reached out a hand and touched his hair.

"You're amazing, you know that? Bikky's lucky to have you."

And then he kissed him. Just a feather brush of lips, but it was enough to send Ryo's defences crumbling to dust.

"So, do you know who did it?"

Ryo struggled to find words. "Uh... Bikky.. wouldn't say. Um."

"We could find out. Someone must have seen it."

"He didn't want me to interfere."

Dee grinned. "He'll never know."

"That's not the point. It's a matter of trust."

"Oh. Trust." Dee was still touching his hair, winding soft strands around his fingers.

"If I go behind his back he'll never open up to me... it could happen again and..."

Dee's mouth was on his again, for longer this time, gentle pressure persuading Ryo to yield no matter what his brain might have had to say on the matter. Rational thought simply melted away when Dee kissed him. It felt a lot like surrender. Ryo fought it.

"Then go talk to his teachers." Dee moved his attention to Ryo's throat, brushing his lips softly over his pulse, his Adam's apple, tongue darting out to dampen his skin. "They'll tell you what he needs. If they don't, put him in a different school."

"He didn't want me to... unh... do that, either." Ryo's heart raced; he clutched at Dee's shoulders, desperately trying to keep control of his feelings.

"You shouldn't worry. He'll be fine."

Finally, Ryo found the resolve to push Dee away. "No! Stop it, Dee, this is serious!"

"What?" Dee looked more hurt than angry, but there was still angry there too. "I know it's serious! I'm trying to help."

"And molesting me's supposed to help?"

Dee took a gulp of wine, and glared at him. "I would have called it comforting," he said. "But yes, actually."

"You don't understand. I don't know why I bother talking to you. You only want.. you..."

Ryo tailed off, breathing hard, regretting his words as soon as they were spoken. He just felt so damn powerless when Dee kissed him like that, and he was worried that one day....

"What are you frightened of, Ryo?"

Ryo swallowed, hard. He had no idea what to say. Or where to start, more specifically. At that moment he was frightened of everything: his own, unfathomable desire; what would happen if he gave in to Dee; what would happen if he didn't....

"The kid's tough, you know?"

Bikky. He was talking about Bikky.

"He shouldn't be. He's too young," Ryo grasped the topic, only too glad to get away from his own feelings and focus on something more tangible. "If he's tough now, how's he ever going to let anyone close to him? What if he turns to violence and gets in with a bad crowd and-"

"He won't."

"Dee, you can't know that. Not for certain. What if-"

"It didn't happen to me," said Dee quietly, swirling the rich red liquid in his glass. "I can remember a time when I was far worse than Bikky, but see? I turned out alright."

Ryo stopped to think for a moment. Dee rarely talked about his past, but from what Ryo had managed to find out, he could have a point. "So what happened? What made the difference?"

"The Penguin."

"How?"

Dee drained his glass, avoiding Ryo's gaze. "She showed me a different way. She didn't tell me off, or lecture me, or... well, actually she did, but none of that made any difference. She taught me things by doing them herself. She gave me a different example to follow. That's what you do for Bikky."

Ryo blinked at him.

"Ryo, if there's one thing you are, it's a good example." Dee smiled at him, and topped up his glass, refilled his own.

"You think so?" Ryo choked out. "Really?"

"Yes." Dee's fingers had somehow worked their way back to Ryo's hair, stroking softly. "The kid's fallen on his feet. And he knows it. When push comes to shove, he wouldn't let you down, any more than I'd let the Penguin down."

"Oh. So... I don't have to do anything?"

"You've given him a loving, stable home, and an education, and someone to look up to," said Dee. "No kid could want for more than that."

Some of the worry started to melt away. He had a point. And Bikky was doing so well; his grades were up, and he seemed so much happier. Until today.

"But..."

"It just takes time," said Dee. "It doesn't happen overnight. You'll have to be patient."

"Yes," said Ryo, with a half-smile. "I know what you mean. It's not easy though, is it?"

Dee caught his meaning, and his hand started to retreat from Ryo's hair.

But Ryo reached out and pulled him close, and this time when they kissed he didn't fight it, welcoming the warm wet of Dee's tongue into his mouth, sucking gently on the tip, letting Dee's body settle comfortably into his. They fit so well, it felt so good, so natural, even though it shouldn't. It was no use fighting it. The comfort, the warmth, the love of it, was too tempting.

"We can't... Bikky ..."

"I know," murmured Dee. "Just a kiss. That's all. It's just a kiss."

Ryo melted back into the cushions and surrendered.