Somewhere They Can't Find Us [Roger/Brian]

Somewhere They Can't Find Us: Part 3

Standing at the bus station early in the morning, Roger suddenly noticed that the days seemed to be getting shorter again already. Mid-November was coming up, accompanied by the gloomy morning darkness that was so typical of the autumn and winter that were approaching at a pace much more rapid than Roger liked to see. He had never been a big fan of either of those seasons, but it seemed that the falling leaves and the cold weather were hitting him even harder this year than they usually did, and the current rainfall wasn't soothing the heaviness he was feeling. He leant back against the glass wall of the bus shelter, turning to the side to stare at his own reflection in the somewhat opaque looking surface. Through the raindrops that travelled down the glass, he studied the paleness of his face, the bags beneath his eyes, the overall worn-out look he could not shake off since he had been released from the police station Saturday afternoon. He slowly brought up his hand to touch his nose; it was still sensitive from his extended altercation with a police officer during the weekend, but there was no indication that it was going to start bleeding again anywhere soon, which was certainly an improvement compared to the day before. Still, just the act of brushing his fingers along the underside of his nose brought back all the memories of the horrific time he was forced to spend inside the police station, especially those memories directly related to the bleeding nose he had acquired.

How it happened was something he could not seem to recall; there had been something going on with multiple wardens, one of which was under the assumption that he was trying to break away from their grip, and thus to get him 'back into control' by pushing him against the nearest wall. If this, however, was the exact moment he'd been injured he could not tell for sure. What he did know was that the blood was dripping down his nose, lips, and chin by the time they crossed Brian in the hallway as he was being hauled into the interrogation room that still made Roger shiver whenever he thought about it. The dimly lit room, the guards standing right behind him to watch every move he made – as far as he had the courage to move at all in that environment – and worst of all, officer Marks, who had been radiating coldness, hate, and disdain towards him from the moment he got to lay his eyes on him.

But even though he could not shake off the indescribable feeling of discomfort whenever he thought about any of these aspects of having been detained, one question continued to linger in Roger's mind all throughout of the interrogation session, and still continued to bother him until this point in time. What effect did seeing him being pinned down by guards with his bleeding nose leaving red stains all over his clothes and the floor beneath him, leave behind on Brian? What kind of assumptions Brian make based on it sight – did he think the guards had gotten physical towards him, did he think he had been seriously injured, did the sight of him covered in blood scare him? Did it look bad enough for Brian to worry about him or fear for his safety?

In all honesty, Roger already knew the answer to all of those questions. Brian was always worried about his wellbeing and his safety, and he was positive his partner had not managed to get rid of the mental image of him with blood dripping down the lower half of his face. Roger would have loved to be able to call Brian, to tell him that as far as he was concerned it had been an accident and that his nose did not seem to be broken, to tell him he didn't have to worry about him – or at least, not to worry about that particular aspect of him. He wanted to comfort Brian, as the bleeding nose he had acquired in a twist of action with the guards was the least of his problems right now. More than that, he wanted to be comforted by Brian himself. Consoling him was one of the things Brian, with his calm and rational personality, was great at, but he at the same time realised none of this was going to be realistic, or even legal in their situation; they had been giving a restraining order until the case would go to court, and he had very little hope that they would be allowed to be in touch after they had been convicted. In the best case they would not be able to speak, write, or see each other because the restraining order would be extended; in the worst case they would not be able to stay in touch because they would be separated from each other by being put into prison.