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Pearce never takes off the coat - at least as far as Ray knows. It's entirely possible he takes it off to sleep, but they're both still putting locked doors between themselves when they do retire, the trust they're building still tentative. Still, he's always wearing it when he does head to bed, and he's always wearing it when Ray sees him the next morning, so as far as Ray knows, it never comes off.
Honestly, it's nothing too unusual considering the general weather of the area and considering it definitely lends to the whole image Pearce has cultivated in the months he's been in Chicago, the way it hangs and drapes and moves cutting a silhouette that is starting to leave gangsters and assorted other riffraff pissing themselves. It likely also lends at least some protection against the guns and knives and assorted other violence he puts himself up against on the daily, even though it is just leather and not particularly armored.
The point is that Ray doesn't have a problem with the coat. It's a great coat. But it leaves Ray cold.
Blume had done more than just put a chip in his head and shove him onto the streets all those years ago. He'd followed them to Pawnee not just because of the distance from Chicago, not just because of the fact that his biodata was being held in the big building on the hill - but also because of what else was being held in that building.
He'd sent Pearce in to delete the biodata - and to retrieve a box. He hadn't told Pearce what was in the box because he couldn't be sure of his suspicions, couldn't leave himself vulnerable all over again if he was wrong.
Ray doesn't intend to watch as Pearce moves through the base, intends to go through a six-pack and do anything but watch, but he can't help himself. He follows Aiden's progress through the cameras, watches him drop the guards by bullet or blunt force. He knows he can't actually feel the Damoclean gun lift from the back of his head when Aiden deletes the data they've been keeping on him, but it's close enough. It's one weight off his shoulders, one less thing he has to worry about.
The other one, though, is far more personal.
There are no cameras in the vault, and Ray loses sight of Aiden for a few incredibly long moments after he breaks in - but when he steps back out carrying not a crate but a folded bundle of fabric, when he makes direct eye contact with the camera Ray is watching through, like he knows Ray is watching, the noose that's been around his neck lifts, too, and he takes what feels like the first deep breath he's managed in years.
--
"Why didn't you tell me?" Aiden asks once he's made it back to the junk yard. He's still holding what Ray had sent him after, holding it carefully, reverently, between his hands, and Ray wants to lunge for it, wants to snatch it from him - but there's hurt in Aiden's face, and oh, hell, maybe he's going to have to trust this kid after all.
Still, that doesn't stop him from snorting, crossing his arms across his chest to hide the shaking in his hands. "Because that went real well for me the last time somebody found out?" he returns - and the hurt clears - but the understanding there makes Ray hurt for Aiden instead.
Aiden pauses another moment, brushing careful fingers over the fur trim over the collar, of the lapels. Ray makes himself keep still even as he feels the ghosts of those touches. "It's just a beat up old coat, you know?" he tries, has to clear his throat - and Aiden's green eyes meet his, a storm-tossed sea roiling behind them.
"No," Aiden says simply - and then he adjusts his hands to hold the coat's shoulders instead, lets it unfold. He nods to Ray - and Ray finally straightens from his lean, stepping forward - and then turning his back to let Aiden slide the coat up his arms. His hands are steady as he settles the coat onto Ray's shoulders - and then steadying as he rests them there when the sob rolls up out of Ray's chest without his permission.
Ray turns around, lifts his head, takes a breath as the pieces slot back into place, as he feels whole for the first time in too many years. "Thank you," he says, simply, and Aiden just nods again.
"No one will ever take it from you again," he says simply, and it shouldn't mean anything, not when they've barely known each other a week, not when Aiden came here to use him and Ray was equally prepared to use the other man in return. But Aiden had held his soul - the ultimate bargaining chip to ensure his cooperation - and given it back to him freely, and he's still looking at him like he understands, and Ray just nods back at him.
"Likewise. Brother."