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Andrew had been having such a good day.
Those were rare to come by: some form of disaster usually appeared, if not by mid-morning, then by lunch. A perp that was too handsy; an elderly woman shouting tireless angst at Andrew over not being able to find her precious, street-rat looking cat; a stack of overdue paperwork from the nightshift fuckers who were the worst people to exist ever.
No: instead, Neil had woken him up with a tray of hot coffee, chocolate croissants and strawberries for their anniversary celebration (not that either of them had mentioned it), kissed the crumbs away from the corner of his mouth and lead Andrew into the shower with that damned smile of his.
He’d driven Andrew to work (something about Allison holding down the fort), which meant Andrew didn’t have to commute and deal with the general public, or figure out where to park for half an hour. It was coming dangerously close to their rule of ‘don’t talk about work’, but Andrew couldn’t complain when Kevin had been too busy to scrutinise him upon entry to the bullpen.
He and Renee had cracked a decent case, a burly dealer with a ‘Nittany Lions’ emblem tattooed across her collarbone had been shut away for being the primary distributor of a lethal strain of methamphetamine, and there hadn’t been a queue in his favourite subway corner store at lunch time.
Wymack had stuck his head out of his office at about half-past two, with a quirk to his eyebrows. “They’re requesting backup at a shootout situation, up north. Change out.”
Andrew, who had just been getting slightly bored signing neighbourly complain forms, took this in his stride. Renee smiled at him as they left, always knowing more than Andrew ever let on. He hated being known at first, but years with Neil had tempered that discomfort, and having someone who knew what he needed when he couldn’t express it wasn’t half bad.
He cut over Kevin’s music in the patrol car and let the windows down, siren tolling. There were no deaths on the scene as of yet - and Andrew had a feeling there would be none.
It seemed as though there was where his good luck had run out for the day.
Upon exiting the car, protocols had been adhered to, blocks were canvassed, civilians were removed, and Andrew found himself squatting behind a crumbling brick wall, Dan and Matt ahead of him, Kevin and Renee behind him.
Dan looked around the doorway, signalled clear, and so they skirted into the small courtyard. The house in question had been the location for the shooting: how Andrew and the rest of his team had found themselves in the infiltration force was another issue entirely.
“Sargeant, everything’s gone quiet, what’s happening?” Wymack demanded.
“House is looking clear -” a distinct thud and Dan’s disgruntled “Oof!” had Andrew drawing out his gun once more.
“Guns down,” came a strained voice, stepping out from behind the door with a gun held to Dan’s head. He had a ski-mask on. “Everyone put your guns down, or she dies.”
For fuck’s sake, Andrew thought, slowly crouching down and putting up his hands. Matt’s entire body was shaking, but he followed suit, Kevin and Renee copying him.
Three men appeared: one grabbed Matt, another grabbed Kevin, whilst a third went for both Renee and Andrew. The glint in Renee’s eyes said it well enough: it wouldn’t do these fuckers well to underestimate either of them.
But Dan still had a gun to her head, and Andrew was in no business of letting decent people die because he didn’t play along, so he let himself be shuffled into the basement of the house: there, he was shoved against one of the old, wooden pillars and tied up, hands behind his back. The rope burned against his skin.
“Body in the corner,” Renee whispered, nudging his foot with hers. “Stripped, two bullet holes in the head. Look, you can see the Butcher cross on the back of their hand. It has to be a Bearcat.”
Andrew stared at the Butcher’s mark. His husband’s father had once liked to mark his loyalists with two gashes on the back of their hand, often with his favourite cleaver. Neil said he’d left similar marks across his father’s eyes when he’d finally brought him to his knees. The corpse in the corner had to be an older member of the Wesninski gang: Neil had changed a lot of things since inheriting his father’s syndicate.
Gang violence was never great, nor simple, but perhaps a man who was loyal to Nathan Wesninski was better off dead.
“Quiet!” one of the men barked, kicking Renee in the side of her head. Andrew grit his teeth as her head whipped back against the wall.
“Search ‘em,” the other said, crouching by Dan. Identification, a spare twenty, her gun and taser and baton were all removed. When she tried to head-but him, he decided to gag her and tie said gag to the beam she was shoved against. He checked her hand for an engagement or wedding ring, of which neither Dan nor Matt ever wore during their shifts. Matt, Kevin and Renee went through the same thing, radios and guns and spare cash filched from their pockets.
Then it was Andrew’s turn. He coiled up as soon as hands were on him, gritting his teeth. He hated sitting like a victim. He hated waiting around to be rescued. He would be able to cut through this rope somehow if he was just given a minute, but instead he was enduring hands across his arms and shoulders and back, down his legs. They didn’t find the knife in his boot - something he’d copied from Neil - but one of their fingers did catch on the silver chain around his throat.
His eyes closed as they pulled it out.
“Ha,” the crook sneered, snapping the silver chain and holding up Andrew’s wedding band. “Who’s the lucky girl? Doesn’t matter, I s’pose, if you never see her again.”
“You’re married? Since when!” Kevin remarked, and got a knee in the ribs for good measure.
Andrew watched the man pocket his wedding ring and sighed. He’d have a hell of a lot of explaining to do to Neil when he got home. Hopefully his husband wouldn’t go out on a spree for vengeance just to get the ring back. Worse would be if he decided to go teaching everyone not to touch his family.
For a few moments, the men left them alone, stomping around the house and yelling for good measure. They’d taken Dan’s radio to lay down their terms: they were no doubt in the midst of negotiation.
“I went to the ceremony,” Renee offered in the strained silence. “It was very sweet.”
“Shut up, Renee.” Andrew muttered.
“It’s their anniversary, today,” she added.
He glared at her. “I hate you.”
“What a way to spend it,” Matt murmured, looking to Dan, who was still gagged. He looked back to Andrew. “We’ll make sure you get back home to your…partner?”
“Husband.” Andrew confirmed, then mentally cursed himself for giving away such needless information whilst in a dusty basement, held hostage by some randoms who had already murdered one member of said husband’s gang. Instead, he shuffled his feet around to Renee.
“I’ve got a knife,” he said, like she didn’t already know. He just didn’t want the others to see Renee trying to take off his shoe with her teeth when he’d just mentioned that he has a husband. She nodded, leaning down to pull at his laces, then tugging off his shoe with her knees. The knife skidded out: she kicked it back to Andrew, who flicked it into his hands. She shuffled around so that her ropes were accessible to him, and he got to work sawing.
It only lasted thirty seconds before the men thundered back down stairs: Renee sat on the knife after Andrew dropped it to the floor.
“They need a little more motivation,” the burliest one sneered, stomping over to Dan. “How about you, sarge?”
“You’re making a mistake,” Renee said, calmly. “I’m sure that if everyone walked free right now, we’d be able to figure something out. It doesn’t have to end badly.”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” he snapped. “God, you’re annoying, aren’t you? Not everything’s so simple, pig.”
“No,” a new voice agreed. “It’s not. But you could’ve at least cleaned this place up a bit before you made such a scene.”
“What the fuck,” the ringleader managed, just as two men dropped to their knees, hands to their stomachs. Two new figures stepped into the basement, dressed similarly. Both wore black jeans and sweaters, though one was a hood tugged firmly over their head, a bandana over their nose and mouth, whilst the other wore a ski-mask with a singular window for the eyes, long hair tucked up into a twist under the wool.
The shorter figure’s blue eyes sought Andrew out immediately: he gave the man a quick nod. I’m alright.
Those eyes burned like the ninth circle of hell. Instantly, Andrew knew he was safe.
“The fuck is this?” the man said, just as another knife buried itself into the chest cavity of his third ally. “Hold on, hold on - are you repping Wesninski? How the fuck did you get here -?”
“Learn your place, Gorilla,” the shorter one said, spinning a knife around on his fingers. His counterpart - and if Andrew didn’t know it was Allison, he would’ve still been able to tell she was a woman - busied herself tying up the other three that were moaning on the floor. Gloved hands, double layered but still deft. Andrew grabbed the knife that was under Renee and kept sawing at her closures.
“You don’t mess with a Wesninski, nor his people.” the knife was slowly raised to ‘Gorilla’s chin, just as gloved fingers reached into the crook’s pocket and drew out a small, silver band. “Too predictable with your trophies, Hawking. Dumped again?”
The man - who was more than a foot taller than their savior and definitely double the width - roared with fury, raising up his hands. He was too late, his body slumping with a pinch to the back of his neck.
The woman looked over to the corner, where the body was dumped, and sighed. “You weren’t the worst, Richie.”
“Definitely bad timing, A.” the man said, hopping over the unconscious body of his rival to lean over Andrew: the others looked on with intrigue as the mysterious man slipped Andrew’s wedding ring into his front pocket.
“Go,” Andrew muttered from out the corner of his mouth. Only Renee would be able to hear. “We’ll be fine.”
“Love you,” Neil whispered back. Not a moment later, he was gone.
“We’re we just saved by a Wesninski gang member?” Kevin wondered aloud.
Not just any gang member, Andrew thought. Kevin would shit himself if he knew who was under that mask.
“Stranger things have happened,” Matt said, though he was unsure. At that point, Andrew had cut Renee’s ropes free, and she set to work unbinding them all.
Wymack was the first into the basement, fury scrawled across his scraggly brows. “Is everyone - Christ.” He looked to the four men on the floor: three stabbed and bound, still alive and writhing in pain, and one unconscious, jaw at a bad angle from where he’d fallen over. “Do I even want to know what happened?”
“I don’t think you’d believe us if we told you, sir,” Renee said, sweetly, as she cut Dan’s gag free and helped her off the floor.
Wymack simply rubbed at his temple with one hand, the other reaching for his radio. “Four stretchers. All threats have been disengaged. Stand down: everyone is safe.”
*
Andrew felt his phone buzz as he was stood behind his desk, packing things into his bag to head home. Hostage situation aside, it’d still been a good day.
Home now - got more ice cream and borrowed Bridget Jones’ Diary from Ally’s collection
I hate you, Andrew texted back. Heading home now - i can detour and get Joe’s thai
no, Neil said immediately. i’ve already got food being delivered. need to see u home and safe.
Andrew felt something warm in his chest. I’ll be there soon.
He tucked his phone into his bag, and brought out the ring that he’d kept tucked into the pocket of his pants all day, seeing as the chain had been broken. Carefully, he slid it onto his finger. It still fit, though he wasn’t sure why he’d thought that it wouldn’t.
Across the room, Matt smiled, nudging Renee and gesturing to where Andrew had put on his wedding ring and was almost ready to leave. “The Monster has a husband.”
“Stranger things have happened,” Dan agreed, sidling up to the pair.
You barely know the half of it, Renee thought, watching her partner amble out of the bullpen, a fondness in her smile.
*