Fox had lost his parents when he was ten years old. Their house had burned down in the middle of the night while they were sleeping. No one knew how the fire started, but he was the only survivor, which was a wonder in and of itself. He'd been found protected under a mountain of blankets as if someone had been watching out and protecting him. After his parents’ death, he went to live with his aunt and uncle, who hadn’t cared if he lived or died.
It wasn't the first time he'd escaped death, either. When he was in Kuwait and his team had been ambushed by insurgents, he was one of two survivors. The other guy lost both of his legs. Fox came out of the situation unscathed except for the memories of what had happened; it was as if the bullets completely missed him.
"I guess you're right, sorry isn't needed when you had nothing to do with it. The funny thing is, they died so long ago I can't even remember what my parents looked like."
"I've never forgotten," Vale whispered. "I remember every smile, every laugh, every freckle, every kiss, touch..." He turned his gaze to Fox. "Their deaths are forever ingrained in my memory." Vale grimaced, looking away from him. "And even when I try to forget, something happens to make me remember."
Fox felt pity for the younger man. He was about to speak when Vale stopped walking and frowned, peering into the crowd. Fox followed his line of sight, not seeing or sensing anything that sent off his “danger is near” senses. The crowd had thinned out a bit since the parade was winding down, but everything seemed fine.
Fox was about to ask what was going on when his radio beeped, and the dispatcher spoke in his ear, informing them of a security alarm going off at the East Street warehouse. They weren't far from the location, so Fox told the operator they'd take the call.
"Come on, we gotta go," Fox grabbed Vale's shoulder, getting the larger man's attention. "We gotta go, we got a call."
Vale nodded, and they both hurried to the warehouse. Fox looked at his partner and noticed he was distracted. "Hey, are you okay?"
Vale turned his bright green gaze on his. "Yeah, I thought I saw someone I knew."
"Oh, not a friend, I take it."
"Not in the fucking least," Vale growled.
Fox was a bit taken back by the anger coming off Vale, who was always playful. He didn't ask any more questions because Vale didn't seem to want to provide any more information. The closer they got to the warehouse and away from the parade’s music, Fox could hear the alarm going off. When they got to the building, the heavy chains were still secured on the gate showing no intrusion.
"They must have hopped over the fence," Vale mumbled.
"Or maybe it's nothing." It wasn't unheard of a critter getting inside a few buildings and tripping the alarm accidentally. "Let's check it out any—” The words died on Fox's lips when Vale climbed and hopped over the fence with ease, not taking into account his large frame.
"Hey, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"My job," Vale reasoned, giving Fox a look that said he'd asked a dumbass question. "You go and find another way in while I go take care of this." With that, he jogged off, leaving Fox with no recourse than to follow his lead.
"Fuck, he can be reckless sometimes."
I'm seriously going to have his head checked when we get back to the precinct.
Once he was over the fence, he quickly caught up to Vale walking into the warehouse. Fox grabbed the man's arm, stopping him when the alarm suddenly stopped. Fox knew it wasn't the warehouse owner. Dispatch would have informed him if they showed up. The hairs on the back of Fox's neck stood on end—something felt off, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Vale gave him the signal that they should split up, and Fox wasn’t going to object, figuring he was probably overreacting.
With his weapon and flashlight in front of him, Fox slowly entered the building and went to the right while Vale went to the left. He walked around the shelves paying close attention to his surroundings, ignoring the life-like statues and figures made of ceramic and clay. The warehouse was dark, enormous, and silent, which added to the creepiness of the place.
Hearing a noise behind him, Fox whirled around, aiming his gun and flashlight at where he figured the sound came from. His shoulders relaxed just a bit when he spotted a black cat with glowing blue eyes that hissed at him then dashed across his foot, disappearing into the dark.
Fucking cat.
Fox was about to start moving again when a gloved hand covered his mouth and a muscular chest pressed into his back. The gun and the flashlight fell from his hands as he wiggled his body, trying to dislodge and get away from his attacker, but his attempt failed.
He sent a hard elbow in what he hoped was the person's stomach and was disappointed that it didn't have any effect. The hand tightened around his mouth, stopping him from making a sound or trying to bite. Fox felt immobilized and wondered if there was some kind of chemical laced in the gloves his attacker was wearing.
He raised his leg to stomp the person's foot but froze when he felt a pain in his side. A sharp object was tearing into his flesh, and he could feel his rib bones break as the object exited through the other end. Fox mentally howled, unable to voice the agony in his sides.
In all the times he'd been in dire situations, he'd never felt such pain or thought he was going to die until that very moment. His knees buckled, yet Fox didn't fall. His vision blurred from tears as his life flashed before his eyes making him realize he wasn't ready to die.
He hadn't accomplished all he'd set out to do.
I guess my luck has finally run out of time. I'm too young to die.
Fox wanted to adopt a couple of kids. Whether he got married or not wasn't a factor, but he wanted to fall in love at least once.
Maybe I should have given Vale a shot.
