Farewell, Doctor.

Know the Sound of Sirens

Jake stood frozen in the corner, his eyes wide with disbelief as the chaotic scene unfolded before him. The muffled noise of the bar felt distant, almost surreal, as his focus narrowed to the confrontation. His jaw tightened, and his fists clenched involuntarily. Without warning, he threw a powerful punch that connected solidly with the guy's face, sending him stumbling backward.

"Stay away from Oliver; I swear you'll end up in the morgue if you don't!" Jake's voice was a low, dangerous growl, cutting through the din of the bar.

The guy, dazed and in pain, managed to ask, "Who in the world are you? Oli, who's this?"

"I'm the one who should be asking that. Who are you?" Jake's tone was icy, his anger palpable.

"I'm his boyfriend. And you?" the guy, Migs, spat back, his eyes blazing with defiance.

The words hit Jake like a physical blow, leaving him momentarily speechless. Before he could recover, Oliver's voice cut through the tension.

"Ex-boyfriend. We're long done, Migs," Oliver said firmly, his face a mask of resolve despite the visible signs of distress.

Migs's face twisted in desperation as he reached out toward Oliver. "Oli, baby, no, I didn't agree. Please come back to me. I need you."

Jake's blood ran cold. He stepped closer, his body a coiled spring of barely contained rage. "Try to get closer, and you'll see what trouble you've gotten yourself into," he warned, his voice low and menacing.

Migs, undeterred, wound up for a punch. The tension in the air was so thick it seemed almost tangible. Jake's heart pounded furiously, each beat is like a drum of adrenaline and fury. Just as Migs's fist began its descent, the harsh, piercing wail of police sirens sliced through the bar's chaotic ambiance. The blue and red lights painted the room with an otherworldly glow, and the crowd erupted into panic.

"We're not done," Migs spat defiantly as he began to retreat, his anger barely contained. The crowd surged toward the exits, desperate to avoid the escalating trouble.

Jake and Oliver were left standing amidst the chaos, their confrontation momentarily suspended as police officers stormed into the bar. The officers moved with authoritative precision, their commands cutting through the noise.

"Alright, everyone, calm down and stay where you are," one officer commanded, his voice resonating with authority.

Jake felt a pang of panic. His career, his future—everything he had worked for—was on the line. The officers' eyes swept over the crowd, and Jake's dread intensified as they made their way towards him and Oliver. Just as one officer approached, his expression softened with recognition.

"Jake? Is that you?" Officer Thompson's surprised tone cut through Jake's anxiety.

Relief surged through Jake as he recognized the officer—a trusted family friend. "Officer Thompson! It's been a while," Jake said, his voice trembling slightly with both relief and tension.

Officer Thompson's smile was brief, quickly replaced by a serious frown as he surveyed the scene. "What the hell's going on here, Jake? You know better than to get mixed up in a bar brawl."

"It's a long story, Officer," Jake said, glancing anxiously between Oliver and Thompson. "But I promise, it's not what it looks like."

Thompson's gaze shifted between Jake and Oliver, his expression stern. After a moment of consideration, he nodded to his fellow officers, signaling them to release the pair. "Alright, let's step outside and sort this out. The rest of you should disperse quietly and head home," he instructed the remaining patrons, who eagerly seized the chance to escape.

Jake and Oliver followed Officer Thompson out into the cool night air. The flashing lights of the police cars cast eerie, shifting shadows on the pavement, and the distant hum of the city seemed oddly muted. Thompson led them to a secluded area away from the lingering crowd and turned to Jake, his arms crossed in a no-nonsense stance.

"Explain," Thompson said, his voice a gravelly command.

"I was just going to fetch my friend here, and..." Jake began, but the Officer cut him off.

"And?"

"And that's it, Officer. Please let us go; my father will not like this," Jake said, trying to mask his anxiety with a weak grin.

Thompson's expression softened slightly, but his tone remained stern. "Alright. This will be the first and last time I'll cover you up."

"Thank you, Officer," Jake said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude.

"Now, go. Before anyone suspects us," the officer said, nodding toward the exit.

Jake nodded gratefully, watching as Officer Thompson turned and walked back toward the scene. The officer's presence had been a lifeline, and Jake was keenly aware of the favor he had just received.

Jake turned to Oliver, who was slumped against a nearby lamppost, his face etched with confusion and frustration. "You alright?" Jake's voice was softer now, laced with concern.

Oliver managed a faint, tired smile. "Yeah, just... a bit too much to drink."

Jake took a deep breath, trying to control the surge of emotions he felt. Seeing Oliver with someone else, especially someone who clearly still had a hold over him, had been painful. But he pushed those feelings aside for the moment, focusing on getting Oliver home safely.

"Come on," Jake said, gently placing a hand on Oliver's back. "Let's get you out of here. I'll drop you off."

Oliver nodded, leaning on Jake for support as they made their way to the motorcycle. Jake could feel the weight of the evening's events pressing down on him, but he kept his focus on the road, navigating the quiet streets with ease. The ride was quiet, the only sounds being the rumble of the motorcycle and the occasional murmur of the city at night.

Jake brought Oliver to his place instead of Oliver's own. When they arrived, Jake helped Oliver up to his door, his concern growing as he noticed how unsteady Oliver was. "You'll be sleeping here at my place for now. Let's get you inside." Jake said it in an orderly tone.

Jake unlocked the door and guided Oliver inside. The apartment was small but cozy, filled with the soft glow of lamps and the faint scent of incense. Jake helped Oliver to the couch, where he sank down gratefully.

"Do you need anything?" Jake asked, feeling a mix of relief and lingering worry.

Oliver shook his head, though his eyes were heavy with exhaustion. "Just... some water. Thanks for everything, Jake. I didn't expect you to be fighting earlier."

Jake smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. "Of course I came. I just want to make sure you're alright."

As Oliver sipped the water Jake had brought him, Jake sat in silence, his thoughts racing. He was overwhelmed by the events of the night, but more than anything, he felt a deep-seated desire to protect Oliver from the hurtful aspects of his past. The moments they'd shared tonight stirred up feelings Jake had long tried to suppress.