InsaneJournal

Current mood:	accomplished
Entry tags:	keptverse, pieces

The Pieces: Benton
This is part 4 of a 7-part sequence. (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3). Hooray, I have part 5 also written, which will be posted Friday, and hopefully I can get 6 and 7 written by the weekend.

The previous stories in this series (my Keptverse) began with The Games (six parts) and continued with The Network (one part), The Players (seven parts), and The Gambler (seven parts). The whole series will terminate with the next sequence, "End Game", which is planned but not yet written.

The story may be regarded as fanfic set in poisontaster's Keptverse. There is a species of cast list here.


Part 4: Benton

Benton kept himself still and impassive. He was watching Giles, and the girl sitting on the bench in the holding cell with her arms wrapped round her. He was not listening attentatively to either of them: Giles was questioning her on her father’s involvement with abolitionists, and she was repeating that she didn’t know. This had been going on for some time, and this was fourth cell they had visited this morning. From the sound of her voice, the girl was now beginning to make stuff up in the hope that invention would make the interrogator go away.

Benton thought that it should be easy to resign. Draft a letter, print it out, hand it to Gerard. The resignation letter would refer only to his work for the US Marshals Service, but Gerard would take it to apply to the other work too.

Except that was work Benton didn’t want to resign from. But if he left the US Marshals he would no longer be able to do it.

Ray should resign too. He wouldn’t want to do it. Benton didn’t want to leave him behind. Here. He hadn’t felt that way about Gerard before. Gerard hadn’t asked them to supervise or interrogate a slave of his before.

Giles stepped back, out of the girl’s face. “I’ll let you think about that for a while,” he said, and, to Benton, “Let’s go.”

Giles was in the door, his back to Benton and the girl. Benton stepped forward, quick and silent, and handed the girl a cereal bar from his pocket. He touched his finger to his lips, indicating silence, and left the cell, only a few seconds after Giles had gone out. The door shut and locked with a crash.

“You’re good at that,” Giles said, sounding tired. “I didn’t see you do it at all.” He glanced at his watch. “We should take a break – three hours at least. But I don’t believe they do know anything, any of them.”

“I agree,” Benton said. “You’re very good at this.”

Giles looked at him. Benton kept his face impassive and still. “Do you mind?” Giles asked.

“Giving these girls food behind your back, apparently without your knowledge, so that when I return to their cells, again apparently without your knowledge, they believe I am on their side and are more willing to communicate with me than they would be with you?” Benton kept his voice utterly polite. “Why would I mind?”

Giles’s expression flickered: finally, he smiled. “Why indeed?” More briskly, he added, “Three hours – do you agree? Then at two o’clock we’ll start again.”



Ray was still in the kitchen. He looked up from his laptop and saw Benton and smiled, a curious quick grin that he seemed helpless to suppress. That hadn’t changed. Everything was still supposed to be all right.

“Where’s Richard?” Benton asked.

“Willow’s off working out her notes,” Ray said. “I put Richard back in the holding cell. He went kind of bugfuck.”

“Bugfuck, Ray?” Benton put the right kind of inquiring note into his voice. They were both pretending that everything was all right.

“Yeah, technical term, went crazy. Nuts. Started shouting at Willow that he didn’t kill his wife.”

“I see.”

Ray shut down his laptop and leaned on the table, looking up at Benton. “I didn’t hurt the scumbag, Benny. I just gave him a drink of water and put him back in the cell.”

“I appreciate that.”

Ray looked down, then up, and his voice got louder. “Even if he is crazy, it doesn’t change what he did. He killed his wife. He beat her head in. He shot her.”

“I know that.”

“He deserves what happened to him.”

Benton didn’t turn away. Ray had stood up, leaning forward, eyes fixed on him. Benton shook his head.

“I don’t think I can agree with you there, Ray,” he said finally.

Ray shook his head, harder, making a noise of disgust and disagreement. Benton stood still, eyeing Ray.

I’m thinking of leaving you.

The thought came to him in that format: not direct, but as if second-hand. He was thinking about leaving Ray.

“I love you,” Benton said out loud.

Ray’s jaw dropped. It was not the kind of thing they said to each other at work.

“I know I’m not always comfortable about open declarations of affection,” Benton said, feeling awkward, knowing he was speaking with difficulty. “But I felt you should know. I love you, Ray. More than, I believe, I’ve ever loved anyone.”

“Benny – ” Ray stood up and stepped round the table, his mouth open, his eyes wide. He put his hands on Benton’s shoulders, and pulled them together, hugging him hard and kissing him briefly on the side of his face. There was a moment after that when Benton knew something had occurred to Ray, when his muscles went tight and his breathing changed.

“Benny, what the hell are you planning?” Ray pulled back, staring him in the face, his hands still on Benton’s shoulders.

“What makes you think I’m planning anything?”

“Because you just told me you loved me!”

“Well, I do.”

“I know that. You never say it. You never, ever say it. Not in so many words.”

“Well, I’m sorry about that, Ray.”

“What the hell are you planning? I love you too.”

“I know that.”

“Good.”

Benton stood still, gazing back at Ray. “I have until two o’clock before Giles and I are going to resume interrogations.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you done with the arrest records?”

“No.”

“Do you want to spend some time in the gym?”

“Sure.” Ray paused. “Wait a minute.” His eyebrows were raised. “I know what you’re thinking. You want to let the scumbag go play in the gym. Am I right?”

“Exactly right,” Benton agreed. “And perhaps we could not refer to him as ‘the scumbag’?”

“Whatever you say, Benny. You want to go lock down the armoury?”

“I already did.”

“Okay.” Ray looked at him, not happy, but not as uncertain as a moment ago. “An hour, all right?”

“That sounds fine.” That would leave Benton with nearly two hours to eat lunch and compose a resignation letter.

“Okay.” Ray paused. “We’re just taking him to the gym, we’re not making friends with him, all right?”

“Certainly not,” Benton agreed.



The holding cell had no mattress: Giles had taken it to pieces last Friday, and it had not yet been replaced. Richard was sitting on the floor, leaning up against the wall, facing the door. His arms were wrapped round his knees, and he didn’t move when they came in.

“On your feet,” Ray said briskly. Richard put his hands down and began, with effort but no unwillingness, to lever himself to his feet.

Benton stayed by the door. Ray went over to the cartons in which Richard’s clothes were stowed, and on the second try, found the set of faded sweats that had belonged to Gerard: he threw them at Richard. “Put these on.”

Although Ray had thrown them to be caught, the top hit Richard’s face: the pants caught briefly on his arm. The pile of cloth subsided at his feet. He stood still, his back to the wall, staring rigidly across the room.

“We’re going to spend an hour in the gym,” Benton said. “We thought you might like some exercise.”

Richard said nothing. After a moment, he bent at the knees, awkwardly, and picked up the sweats. His back was still to the wall. He looked at Ray.

“Put them on,” Ray said, impatiently.

Richard nodded. He glanced at Benton. Then, as if he wanted to do it fast, he undid his shoes, slid them off, jerked off his sweater, pulled his jeans down and stepped out of them, and, without looking at either of them, clumsily pulled on the sweatpants and the top, and stepped back into his shoes. He had barely moved from the spot against the wall where he was standing.

“Let’s go,” Ray said.

Richard did not try to pick up either his jeans or his sweater. He went towards the door, his head down, not looking at Benton, brushing past him without touching him. He went down the stairs just ahead of both of them, not attempting to go too fast, and stopped at the foot, standing with his hands by his sides, palms inward.

Ray brushed past him and went to the door to the gym. From two steps up, Benton saw Richard turn, look up the stairs at him, his eyes wide and dark, and then – too fast, almost as if he were lunging to attack, Richard moved.

Not towards Ray. In the other direction, as if he were heading for the lounge. Benton took the last two steps at a jump, and landed in front of Ray.

Richard was standing with his back against the wall, his hands resting on the wall, his eyes and mouth open holes frostbitten into his face. As Benton took a step towards him, Richard’s mouth opened wider, and he shouted, so loud it was a moment before Benton understood the words.

“Sam! Sam!”

Benton stood still. A moment later, both George and Adam came out of the lounge, moving as if they expected an attack.

Richard did not move. He was sweating heavily, Benton saw. He shouted again, even louder, though his voice broke in the middle of the word. “Sam!”

“What the hell is going on?” George said.

“I think Richard wants Sam,” Adam said. “Anyone care to pass the message on at a lower volume?”

The door from behind the stairs opened. “What kind of party are you bastards having out here?”

Richard didn’t move. He was still sweating. His eyes were fixed on Gerard.

Gerard stopped by the foot of the stairs and glanced from face to face. “What the hell’s going on? Don’t all of you talk at once.” He looked at Richard. “Was that you raising all that racket?”

Richard swallowed, visibly. His voice was cracked and wavered from level to level. “I answered all her questions.”

“What?” Gerard spoke expressionlessly. To Benton, that indicated genuine confusion.

Richard leaned forward, and though his voice was still uneven, it came out at a full-blown, openly angry shout. “I answered all her questions.” His hands were still flat against the wall, as if he could cling to it. He still sounded angry, but his voice kept wavering. “I’ll answer any questions. Ask Willow, Sam. She stopped the interview. Ask her.”

Gerard had moved. He took hold of Richard’s arm above the wrist, put his other hand on the back of Richard’s neck, and did something that made Richard buckle at the knees.. “Okay,” he said. “Calm down, Richard. Get down on your knees. I warned you about not bugging my kids. Put your hands on the back of your head. Get down, calm down, and shut up. Got it?”

“I think this is actually our fault,” Benton said. He heard Ray stir beside him and mutter something. It might have been Speak for yourself, but it wasn’t very loud.

Gerard turned to look at Benton – and at Ray. His face was stonily impassive. “That wouldn’t surprise me,” he said after a moment. “Where’s Willow?”

“At a guess,” Adam said, too brightly, “she’s with Dana in the clinic.”

“At a guess?” Gerard turned his glower away from Benton and Ray for a moment. His hand was still resting on the back of Richard’s neck.

George had taken out his phone a few moments earlier. He slid it back into his pocket as Gerard looked at him. “I’ve just texted her, Sam. Perhaps Adam and I can get back to work now.”

“Look,” Ray said, sounding defensive, “Spin it how you like, I don’t see how this is our fault.”

“Yeah?” Gerard didn’t move. He was standing a little awkwardly, bent so that his hand still rested on the back of Richard’s neck. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Adam,” George said, and stepped back into the lounge. Adam followed, with a last, very inquisitive look. The door closed.

“You asked us this morning if we would take Richard for supervised exercise sessions in the gym,” Benton said. “It was my suggestion that we do so just now. I believe that we failed to make clear to Richard that we were taking him to the gym, and not to a holding cell.”

“You told him that we were going to the gym,” Ray said. He sounded angry.

“Yes,” Benton acknowledged, “but you know, Ray, I’m really not sure that he was hearing either of us at that point.”

Gerard was looking from one to the other of them. He was grinning now, but Benton got no feeling he was amused. When he spoke, though, it was mildly. “You know, I didn’t expect you guys to be so enthusiastic about this that you’d do something about it today. I meant to explain to Richard he could get to use the gym through there sometimes.” He looked down at Richard, who had turned his head to one side and was squinting up at him, looking completely dazed.

“Richard.”

Richard’s mouth opened. He seemed to be about to say something, but his head moved, as if nodding, and he was silent.

“Okay,” Gerard said, as if that was enough. “Calm down. You are not going over to the other side of the house. That was a misunderstanding. You’re going back up to the holding cell. Got it?”

Richard’s head moved again. Gerard nodded in return. “Okay. Can you stand up? Ray, Benton, go do something useful – check if there’s anything in the delivery shelter. Then get back here, I got something to say to you.”

to part 5