Prejudice and Pain, a PewDieCry fanfic.

AN: Heeeelllo all! This is my first ever PewDieCry fanfic, but certainly not the last. Also this is my first time writing Yaoi or BL or whatever so... forgive me if I'm dirtying the name of boyxboy. So, before I start, please read this warning-- WARNING! READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED, DESPITE WHAT IT SAYS ON MY PROFILE! THIS FANFIC HAS GORY AND RATHER GRAPHIC SCENES WITH QUITE A BIT OF CUSSING! IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS KIND OF FANFIC, I WILL MAKE ONE FOR A BIT- uh- YOUNGER AUDIENCES! AS YOUNG AS YOU CAN GET WHEN YOU READ BL!

Please enjoy c:

___________________________________________

There is one thing- only one- that makes me so angry I can barely speak. It's like a pet peeve, only ten times worse. It's like- like- when you hate over easy eggs, but someone gives them to you and you have to be polite and eat them. It may be frivolous, but that's how I feel about... "sharing" my cases.

I'm a detective. In my experiences, no detective likes 'sharing their cases' with others- especially police officers. So when I drove up to the crime scene this morning and saw the fluorescent flashing of red and blue, I narrowed my eyes suspiciously and turned off the engine. It looked as if the police had just got there- the bright yellow 'Warning!' tape hadn't been spread around the crime scene, and there were only a couple of uniformed police officers there so far. I checked my watch: five thirty. The police must really be taking precautions to be up this early. I sighed with irritation as I saw an all-too familiar face in the crowd: a burly old man with white hair peppered in black, with a scruffy mustache that reached the top of his bottom lip, and brown eyes that had crinkles at the edges. This man was Officer Bakley, and was usually a very optimistic, happy kind of fellow that rubbed off on you. He generally cheered up other officers and even made an occasional joke. But right now, the 67 year old man looked sober and downcast. His usually happy face was drawn and pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes. Lines creased his face, and more wrinkles than he usually had seemed to suddenly appear on him. He was speaking gravely to another officer at the moment, so he hadn't seen me. I sighed again, already knowing I wasn't going to sleep until I found the murderer.

Let me explain: a couple of weeks ago, a girl was murdered. She had been a lonely prostitute who had been gutted; a while later, a teenage college student had been found with a mask plastered on her face. Again a couple days later, a person- a child this time- was found murdered. She had knife marks all over her body made to look like teeth marks, and she was found in a stuffed wolves mouth. It made me sick. Still, I couldn't act legally so I had to sit back and watch until a woman, the mother of the child, came to me and asked for assistance.

Almost immediately afterward, it was reported the a twenty-year old woman had been found with a shower curtain wrapped around her and several stab marks marking her body. I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. I really wanted to take this job alone- it would do everybody a favor- but I probably needed the police's help anyway.

Oh? You think I wouldn't like to admit that? Well then, I'm afraid you're terribly confused. I don't hate the police. I hate when I have to work with the police; actually I had quite a few friends in the force. Like officer Russ Money and Scott Jund, and even Officer Bakely. Well, I thought, at least I don't have the FBI to deal wi- I thought too soon, for a small, white convertible car drove onto the side of the scene. When big, bold words that read FBI shone brightly on the side, I nearly turned the ignition key and got the hell out of there. I had done it before, after all. But I grit my teeth, remembering the poor child, the college student, and the prostitute. Nobody deserved that. Nobody.

I sighed and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel, letting another sigh escape through my nose. Okay, okay, you got this. You got this.

I hate the FBI. So bad. So, so bad. Last time I worked with them... I shuddered, then, using every speck of strength I had, I opened my car door and stepped outside. I squinted against the light, covering my eyes with my hands. The crime place was an ally in between two abandoned brick buildings. There wasn't a tree in sight, and the air was thick and musty. I put my sleeve over my mouth and maneuvered my way through the uniformed police officers, noting that the person in the FBI car hadn't come out yet. Either that or I hadn't seen him come out. I finally got close to Bakely. I was just about to tap him on the shoulder when a loud, obnoxious drawl came from behind me. "Why, Detective Cry! I never expected you to be here." I closed my eyes tightly, clenching my fists. I turned to the voice, forcing an obviously fake smile on my face. "Mr. Barrel, nice seeing you here." I growled.

My real name was Cryotic Monki, though nobody knew the last part. I'd be teased to no end. But still, just the name Cryotic was enough to get a tease out of.

And Mr. Barrel wasn't really Mr. Barrel. His real name was Barly, but of course if someone bites at me, I bite at them. Barrel curled his lips in distaste, saying, "Glad to see you think it's Halloween still, Cry." Oh yea, did I forget to mention that I wore a mask? Well, we learn something new every day. I was a simple design; a white mask that stopped to right atop my nose, and on it were two simple circles as eyes and a straight line for a mouth. There were two small holes in the eyes, enough to see through but not enough for people to see in. A smile curled my lips again, this time a true, arrogant one. "Why of course, Barrel! It's my favorite holiday. Must be yours too, you always seem to dress up as an arrogant jackass." Barrel narrowed his eyes, but before he could say anything, a gruff voice came from behind me. "Cryotic!" I turned around. Barkley. Right, almost forgot. I smiled again, this smile a sweet and friendly one. "Hello, sir. Good morning. Shame that I can't enjoy it- I was planning on joining you sooner, but I had no legal permission to. Luckily the little girl- God rest her soul, sir- had a mother who wanted the bastard to pay." I said. Mr. Barkley nodded, then his gaze fitted to Barrel. "Ah, Mr. Barre-Barely. Very nice to see you again, you should have called and informed me that you were going to work on this case. I would've uh- been much more prepared." I hid a laugh at the subliminal message that Barrel obviously missed.

Barrel smirked. "Oh, I'm not working on the case. I'm just dropping of someone who is. Felix!" I turned towards where Barrel had shouted. His eyes were resting on a young, sandy haired boy with a stub and bright ocean-blue eyes. As soon as Felix heard his name, he stopped having a conversation with two sergeants. He glanced over and walked towards us with a bright smile on his face. He was about my age, but he must be new. I studied up on all of the FBI agents.

I swear I'm not a stalker.

He seemed like a nice kid, and I smiled a bit. Barrel then turned to Felix with what looked more like an ass hole smirk than anything. "Felix, this is the policeman on the job named Bakely." Felix shot a glare that was supposed to be missed at Barrel and then quickly covered the glare with a smile. "Pleasure, sir," he said. I was slightly surprised to hear that he had an accent. Polish? Swedish?

"And this," Barrel turned to me and I narrowed my eyes as he said, "is Detective Cryotic." Felix narrowed his eyes at the word detective, and I tilted my head to the side to show I was confused by the change of attitude. "Barley.." Felix said slowly, turning his burning gaze into Barrel. "What is the meaning of this?" Barrel tried to look innocent but he failed miserably. "I don't know what you mean, Felix. I thought you were happy I assigned you to this job?" he said with a slight sneer.

Felix whipped around to Barrel, taking a fist full of his shirt. "What are you playing at, Barley? You were in charge of assigning a person to the job. You know about my history." He growled. Barrel's eyes flashed in fear but he quickly recovered. "Now, now Felix. Calm down; you know what's at stake here." Felix growled again and dropped Barrel.

"What did you do to screw up this time, Barrel?" I muttered to myself. Felix heard me, but merely looked at me with narrowed eyes.

I already could tell that the kid hated me. Wonderful.

AN: I Apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes. I am also sorry if this is too short for your liking. More will come But first, a thank you to Mocha_Latte for bringing me the wonderful world of Nikki. -sigh-.