FIC: In the Arms of the Wicked, 35/36 (Ian/OMC, OCs, PG-13)
Title: "In My Nature"
Series: In the Arms of the Wicked, Part 35/36
Characters: Ian/OMC, OCs.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Summary: It was his nature to be a loner, to be a nomad, to not let anybody really know who he was.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.
Beta: The fantastic twins_m0m and the great lillyg.
Previous chapters: Click here.
Previous chapter
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35: In My Nature
There had been too many deaths. Dealing with the disappearance of people who were trying to do the right thing was what Ian hated the most about his job. Not even his rifle would have been able to fix it. This time he hadn’t been the one who’d pulled the trigger, but his presence at Farrow’s house had definitely pushed some buttons.
It was his nature to be a loner, to be a nomad, to not let anybody really know who he was. He couldn’t let people see the guilt; he’d learned to make his skin think.
Lying on his bed, he wondered why he hadn’t left Arizona yet. The room was ugly and cheap and he hadn’t talked to anyone since he’d told David and Colby goodbye at the Phoenix mansion. He hadn’t even started his report, nor answered the calls coming from work.
Ian rested one hand on the sheets, the other one on his forehead. His luggage was all done, everything was packed and ready. Nothing was holding him back. Nothing except this feeling that something was going to happen. He had the hunch that his staying should last for a few more hours at least.
His cell pone went off. Ian knew it was beside him, on the nightstand, moving to the rhythm of a soft vibration. It broke the balance of his meditation. Ian’s heart ached inside his chest as all the emotions started to hit him together. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It just wasn’t.
Trying to get his mind away from them, he reached out for his phone and saw who was bothering him now. It didn’t mean that he was going to answer. But he ended up sitting up on the bed. There was no reason to get such a call. But his hunch, mixed with the pain he felt, told him to go for it, and he did.
“Edgerton,” he responded. There was silence coming from the other side of the line. Still, he waited.
“Ian… um… It’s…”
“Farrow, I know,” he told him, with no energy to play games or even to be sarcastic. Again, the other man took his time to tell him what was going on, so Ian asked, “What’s up?” as if he didn’t really care. It was so weird that they were talking after a case in which they hadn’t been able to get along. Hell, it made no sense, since Ian had hit him right in the face.
But Farrow was still there. “I was wondering if you’d like to… you know… meet.”
“For what?” Ian had to know the excuse.
“I don’t know. Just because…” It seemed that the archeologist wasn’t saying everything he wanted to say, as he took a deep breath. He sounded tired and even depressed. “Look, the truth is that I’m burying Louis today.”
So that was it. “I see.”
“Yeah. I’m taking him down to his grave again. According to the autopsy, the body was protected by the plastic bag, and it really means a lot to his family that his remains stay in Arizona, exactly where they were,” Farrow explained.
“And… you want me to be there.”
Farrow took another big breath. “Yeah… I mean, why not? If you want to come, of course… and if it’s not too weird for you. We don’t even have to talk to each other. I’d just like some company, since my bodyguards are away taking a break after their pal’s death and Lily is in L.A. taking care of Richard’s funeral. I’m going to be in…”
The address was fine, but... “I’m sorry. I’m heading off to L.A., too. More murderers and thieves to catch.”
“Ah… sure. Then forget that I called. I guess I’ll… see you around.”
“I guess.”
“Thanks for everything you’ve done for us.”
“There’s no need to thank. It’s my job.” And with that, Ian ended the call.
He lay back down on the bed, thinking. He had no need to see Farrow. It wouldn’t mean anything if he never ran into him again. But he knew what it was like to be alone during a funeral. It had been one of the toughest experiences in Ian’s life.
A parent’s death wasn’t the same as a lover’s. The kind of pain was simply different. Yet no one, not even Farrow, deserved to go through the loneliness of such a goodbye.
So Ian got up, grabbed his cell phone, his wallet and his jacket. That would be more than enough. He stopped before opening the door. He knew that what he was about to do wasn’t rational to him, but his heart was in command now.
He opened the door, went through the threshold and closed it. It wasn’t that bad, and after telling the host that he didn’t know what time he’d be back, it really felt like the right thing to do.
The rented car wasn’t expensive. Soon, Ian was at the cemetery but he didn’t want to look at it; too many memories were coming up.
He had to be strong. He was strong. Trying to stay calm, he told himself that this wouldn’t be Marah’s tomb, and that there was nothing to fear. Slowly, one step after another, he entered the cemetery.
A sniper shouldn’t be uncomfortable around funerals, but Ian was. The image of memorials, names carved in stone and flowers laying over them - some fresh, some dried - was a lot for him to bear, but he made his way through the graves and finally recognized the figure of the man he was looking for.
As he walked towards him, Ian mapped the spot where Louis Terrence’s body would, hopefully, sleep forever. It was a nice place. It was simple and a bit sad, but it had a beautiful tree beside its dusty memorial.
The body had been placed inside of the coffin and it’d been already buried. A priest was beside the grave, opening his Bible and looking at Ian though narrowed eyes. But he never said anything, not even when Ian came closer and Farrow turned to him with obvious surprise.
However, Farrow just smiled and then he leaned to clean his former lover’s memorial with a cloth. “Louis Jordan Terrence, beloved son and brother. You will remain in our hearts forever.”
Ian noticed how the priest seemed to have found the passage he wanted to read, so he remained serious and joined his hands in a sign of respect. It was odd to see how Farrow put his hands on the pockets of his jacket, but then again, he’d been through this funeral already. After all that had happened, he had to have lost some faith.
“Psalm 37,” the priest said, and he started with his reading. Ian didn’t listen to the first words, as he kept looking at Louis’ memorial and wondering how Farrow seemed to have nothing to do with it. But slowly, the priest’s message started to get through. “Commit your way to the Lord; trust that God will act and make your integrity shine like the dawn, your vindication like noonday.”
Integrity was too overrated. Ian hadn’t taken revenge on his mother’s death and he should have. There was no doubt about it.
“Give up your anger, abandon your wrath; do not be provoked; it brings only harm.”
How was he supposed to let go his anger if he couldn’t do anything to fix things? If he didn’t have his rage, then he didn’t have anything but suffering and regret.
“The wicked plot against the just and grind their teeth at them; but the Lord laughs at them, knowing their day is coming. Their swords will pierce their own hearts; their bows will be broken. Better the poverty of the just than the great wealth of the wicked. For the arms of the wicked shall be broken, but the Lord will sustain the just.”
If there was a God in this world, he better do that at least - protect the good ones from those that hurt others. But that would also mean that he’d have to get rid of Ian as well.
“The salvation of the just is from the Lord, their refuge in time of distress. The Lord helps and rescues them, rescues and saves them from the wicked, because in God they take refuge.”
And that only applied to the believers, of course. Ian wasn’t one of them. He could hold on to many things - rage, the promise of a new start - but not religion.
The Bible was closed; the priest looked up and nodded. In silence, Farrow shook his hand and thanked him for his reading. It was a bit of a shocking scene for Ian. He would have never imagined that he’d witnesses something like this. He also would have never expected to see the priest nod and smile at him when he passed him by.
Ian let Farrow have his few moments of silence beside his lover’s grave. It was the respectful thing to do.
“Thank you,” the archeologist finally muttered, turning to him, hands still inside his pockets. “You surprised me.”
“To be honest, I surprised myself, too. I didn’t think there would be any reason to come,” Ian responded, and saw how the other man smiled. “That doesn’t mean…”
“I know, I know. But whatever reason you had, I’m glad you found it.”
“I was late.”
“No problem. I think Louis would have liked to meet you. You two would have gotten along well.”
“Mmm.” They started walking around the cemetery between the sad trees. There were memorials and rustic tombs around them, but the sun was up in the sky. “There was something about the funeral that made me curious. In Louis’ memorial, it says, ‘beloved son and brother.’ There’s nothing that ties him to you there.”
Farrow smiled as he looked around. “His family never knew about us being together I didn’t think it’d be a good idea to tell them that he was gay, since they don’t seem to be the kind of people who’d understand it right away,” he explained. “They had enough with knowing that their son had been killed. I took care of everything according to what they wanted. They’re very religious people.”
“I could see that. The priest’s words were interesting, I gotta say,” Ian admitted, feeling more at ease with the archeologist now, but that was probably because of the context.
“You know, I’ve always seen religious tradition as an object of analysis, but I gotta admit that this time there was something different about it, I don’t know.”
Ian’s eyes landed on the ground. “Oddly enough, I understand what you mean.”
Looking satisfied with the answer, Farrow stopped walking for a second, and so did Ian. “You don’t believe in anything, do you?”
“Not in religion, but… let’s just say sometimes you gotta hold on to something.” There was silence after the sniper’s statement, which he was thankful for.
They continued walking. Farrow folded his arms. “I see… Anyway, I want to thank you again for coming. You took a flight from L.A. to Phoenix again and interrupted your work…”
“No… I was still in Phoenix.”
“May I ask why? You seemed pretty eager to get away from here as soon as possible.”
“I was. But then again, this place makes you think about things.” Ian noticed how Farrow stopped in his tracks again and looked at him. However, he adopted his stoic posture, letting him know that he wasn’t willing to talk about personal matters.
“Fine, no questions.” Cocking his head, the archeologist continued walking. “But you are leaving soon, aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Then let me buy you a drink before you go.”
Again, Ian sent him the glare.
“Okay. No questions and no drinks. But let me show you something.”
“What?”
“You gotta follow me. I’m not going to tell you just because, you have to see it.”
Grinning, Farrow started walking towards the cemetery exit. He seemed to be pretty excited, and that started to worry Ian. “Fine…” he muttered before following him. He’d have to stay alert; he didn’t want any weird surprises.
But this was a nice one. Near to the road, tied to a tree, there was a horse. As soon as he noticed the fine Friesian, Ian couldn’t avoid going towards it and running his palm over his beautiful, black head. “Hey, buddy…” He turned to Farrow. “Why did you bring him here? Couldn’t you get a normal ride?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. I hoped you came, that’s all,” the archeologist responded, standing beside Ian. “He’s yours now.”
That was too much, so Ian stepped away from the horse. “I can’t keep it. I travel a lot, I live in small places.”
Farrow seemed to be very disappointed, but he still said, “Okay… I just thought you’d like his company. He kind of reminds me of you. Besides, he likes you.” Lazily, he went to pat his horse’s head.
Watching him, Ian had to admit that it was a nice gesture, so he didn’t kill all of Farrow’s hope. “But you could take care of him while I’m not here.”
With that, he got the other man’s attention. “You mean…?”
“I could come visit him every once in a while.”
There was a smile in the archeologist’s face. He nodded, and said, “Okay. That sounds like a good plan… Are you going to talk to Noah?”
If there was something about Farrow that irritated Ian, it was his persistence to ask the wrong personal questions at the worst moment of all. But this would be the last time they would see each other, so there was no need to pick a fight. “I don’t think it’s in my nature to go back to things… or people, whatsoever.”
Farrow walked towards him, looking serious and defiant, just like the first time he’d entered Professor Eppes’ office and had started causing trouble. But, he didn’t seem to want to fight right now. “Excuse me if I disagree, but I doubt it, considering what you just told me regarding this beauty,” he said, pointing at the gorgeous Friesian.
Ian nodded and saw how the other man offered him his hand. They locked eyes as they shook their hands firmly.
“You’re a good man, Ian. I think you deserve to be at peace with yourself.”
The sniper let go of his hand and nodded as a sign of peace. Then he turned to the road and watched its emptiness. He got into his car and turned on the engine.
It was the right time to walk away.
Series: In the Arms of the Wicked, Part 35/36
Characters: Ian/OMC, OCs.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Summary: It was his nature to be a loner, to be a nomad, to not let anybody really know who he was.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.
Beta: The fantastic twins_m0m and the great lillyg.
Previous chapters: Click here.
Previous chapter
Next chapter
35: In My Nature
There had been too many deaths. Dealing with the disappearance of people who were trying to do the right thing was what Ian hated the most about his job. Not even his rifle would have been able to fix it. This time he hadn’t been the one who’d pulled the trigger, but his presence at Farrow’s house had definitely pushed some buttons.
It was his nature to be a loner, to be a nomad, to not let anybody really know who he was. He couldn’t let people see the guilt; he’d learned to make his skin think.
Lying on his bed, he wondered why he hadn’t left Arizona yet. The room was ugly and cheap and he hadn’t talked to anyone since he’d told David and Colby goodbye at the Phoenix mansion. He hadn’t even started his report, nor answered the calls coming from work.
Ian rested one hand on the sheets, the other one on his forehead. His luggage was all done, everything was packed and ready. Nothing was holding him back. Nothing except this feeling that something was going to happen. He had the hunch that his staying should last for a few more hours at least.
His cell pone went off. Ian knew it was beside him, on the nightstand, moving to the rhythm of a soft vibration. It broke the balance of his meditation. Ian’s heart ached inside his chest as all the emotions started to hit him together. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It just wasn’t.
Trying to get his mind away from them, he reached out for his phone and saw who was bothering him now. It didn’t mean that he was going to answer. But he ended up sitting up on the bed. There was no reason to get such a call. But his hunch, mixed with the pain he felt, told him to go for it, and he did.
“Edgerton,” he responded. There was silence coming from the other side of the line. Still, he waited.
“Ian… um… It’s…”
“Farrow, I know,” he told him, with no energy to play games or even to be sarcastic. Again, the other man took his time to tell him what was going on, so Ian asked, “What’s up?” as if he didn’t really care. It was so weird that they were talking after a case in which they hadn’t been able to get along. Hell, it made no sense, since Ian had hit him right in the face.
But Farrow was still there. “I was wondering if you’d like to… you know… meet.”
“For what?” Ian had to know the excuse.
“I don’t know. Just because…” It seemed that the archeologist wasn’t saying everything he wanted to say, as he took a deep breath. He sounded tired and even depressed. “Look, the truth is that I’m burying Louis today.”
So that was it. “I see.”
“Yeah. I’m taking him down to his grave again. According to the autopsy, the body was protected by the plastic bag, and it really means a lot to his family that his remains stay in Arizona, exactly where they were,” Farrow explained.
“And… you want me to be there.”
Farrow took another big breath. “Yeah… I mean, why not? If you want to come, of course… and if it’s not too weird for you. We don’t even have to talk to each other. I’d just like some company, since my bodyguards are away taking a break after their pal’s death and Lily is in L.A. taking care of Richard’s funeral. I’m going to be in…”
The address was fine, but... “I’m sorry. I’m heading off to L.A., too. More murderers and thieves to catch.”
“Ah… sure. Then forget that I called. I guess I’ll… see you around.”
“I guess.”
“Thanks for everything you’ve done for us.”
“There’s no need to thank. It’s my job.” And with that, Ian ended the call.
He lay back down on the bed, thinking. He had no need to see Farrow. It wouldn’t mean anything if he never ran into him again. But he knew what it was like to be alone during a funeral. It had been one of the toughest experiences in Ian’s life.
A parent’s death wasn’t the same as a lover’s. The kind of pain was simply different. Yet no one, not even Farrow, deserved to go through the loneliness of such a goodbye.
So Ian got up, grabbed his cell phone, his wallet and his jacket. That would be more than enough. He stopped before opening the door. He knew that what he was about to do wasn’t rational to him, but his heart was in command now.
He opened the door, went through the threshold and closed it. It wasn’t that bad, and after telling the host that he didn’t know what time he’d be back, it really felt like the right thing to do.
The rented car wasn’t expensive. Soon, Ian was at the cemetery but he didn’t want to look at it; too many memories were coming up.
He had to be strong. He was strong. Trying to stay calm, he told himself that this wouldn’t be Marah’s tomb, and that there was nothing to fear. Slowly, one step after another, he entered the cemetery.
A sniper shouldn’t be uncomfortable around funerals, but Ian was. The image of memorials, names carved in stone and flowers laying over them - some fresh, some dried - was a lot for him to bear, but he made his way through the graves and finally recognized the figure of the man he was looking for.
As he walked towards him, Ian mapped the spot where Louis Terrence’s body would, hopefully, sleep forever. It was a nice place. It was simple and a bit sad, but it had a beautiful tree beside its dusty memorial.
The body had been placed inside of the coffin and it’d been already buried. A priest was beside the grave, opening his Bible and looking at Ian though narrowed eyes. But he never said anything, not even when Ian came closer and Farrow turned to him with obvious surprise.
However, Farrow just smiled and then he leaned to clean his former lover’s memorial with a cloth. “Louis Jordan Terrence, beloved son and brother. You will remain in our hearts forever.”
Ian noticed how the priest seemed to have found the passage he wanted to read, so he remained serious and joined his hands in a sign of respect. It was odd to see how Farrow put his hands on the pockets of his jacket, but then again, he’d been through this funeral already. After all that had happened, he had to have lost some faith.
“Psalm 37,” the priest said, and he started with his reading. Ian didn’t listen to the first words, as he kept looking at Louis’ memorial and wondering how Farrow seemed to have nothing to do with it. But slowly, the priest’s message started to get through. “Commit your way to the Lord; trust that God will act and make your integrity shine like the dawn, your vindication like noonday.”
Integrity was too overrated. Ian hadn’t taken revenge on his mother’s death and he should have. There was no doubt about it.
“Give up your anger, abandon your wrath; do not be provoked; it brings only harm.”
How was he supposed to let go his anger if he couldn’t do anything to fix things? If he didn’t have his rage, then he didn’t have anything but suffering and regret.
“The wicked plot against the just and grind their teeth at them; but the Lord laughs at them, knowing their day is coming. Their swords will pierce their own hearts; their bows will be broken. Better the poverty of the just than the great wealth of the wicked. For the arms of the wicked shall be broken, but the Lord will sustain the just.”
If there was a God in this world, he better do that at least - protect the good ones from those that hurt others. But that would also mean that he’d have to get rid of Ian as well.
“The salvation of the just is from the Lord, their refuge in time of distress. The Lord helps and rescues them, rescues and saves them from the wicked, because in God they take refuge.”
And that only applied to the believers, of course. Ian wasn’t one of them. He could hold on to many things - rage, the promise of a new start - but not religion.
The Bible was closed; the priest looked up and nodded. In silence, Farrow shook his hand and thanked him for his reading. It was a bit of a shocking scene for Ian. He would have never imagined that he’d witnesses something like this. He also would have never expected to see the priest nod and smile at him when he passed him by.
Ian let Farrow have his few moments of silence beside his lover’s grave. It was the respectful thing to do.
“Thank you,” the archeologist finally muttered, turning to him, hands still inside his pockets. “You surprised me.”
“To be honest, I surprised myself, too. I didn’t think there would be any reason to come,” Ian responded, and saw how the other man smiled. “That doesn’t mean…”
“I know, I know. But whatever reason you had, I’m glad you found it.”
“I was late.”
“No problem. I think Louis would have liked to meet you. You two would have gotten along well.”
“Mmm.” They started walking around the cemetery between the sad trees. There were memorials and rustic tombs around them, but the sun was up in the sky. “There was something about the funeral that made me curious. In Louis’ memorial, it says, ‘beloved son and brother.’ There’s nothing that ties him to you there.”
Farrow smiled as he looked around. “His family never knew about us being together I didn’t think it’d be a good idea to tell them that he was gay, since they don’t seem to be the kind of people who’d understand it right away,” he explained. “They had enough with knowing that their son had been killed. I took care of everything according to what they wanted. They’re very religious people.”
“I could see that. The priest’s words were interesting, I gotta say,” Ian admitted, feeling more at ease with the archeologist now, but that was probably because of the context.
“You know, I’ve always seen religious tradition as an object of analysis, but I gotta admit that this time there was something different about it, I don’t know.”
Ian’s eyes landed on the ground. “Oddly enough, I understand what you mean.”
Looking satisfied with the answer, Farrow stopped walking for a second, and so did Ian. “You don’t believe in anything, do you?”
“Not in religion, but… let’s just say sometimes you gotta hold on to something.” There was silence after the sniper’s statement, which he was thankful for.
They continued walking. Farrow folded his arms. “I see… Anyway, I want to thank you again for coming. You took a flight from L.A. to Phoenix again and interrupted your work…”
“No… I was still in Phoenix.”
“May I ask why? You seemed pretty eager to get away from here as soon as possible.”
“I was. But then again, this place makes you think about things.” Ian noticed how Farrow stopped in his tracks again and looked at him. However, he adopted his stoic posture, letting him know that he wasn’t willing to talk about personal matters.
“Fine, no questions.” Cocking his head, the archeologist continued walking. “But you are leaving soon, aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Then let me buy you a drink before you go.”
Again, Ian sent him the glare.
“Okay. No questions and no drinks. But let me show you something.”
“What?”
“You gotta follow me. I’m not going to tell you just because, you have to see it.”
Grinning, Farrow started walking towards the cemetery exit. He seemed to be pretty excited, and that started to worry Ian. “Fine…” he muttered before following him. He’d have to stay alert; he didn’t want any weird surprises.
But this was a nice one. Near to the road, tied to a tree, there was a horse. As soon as he noticed the fine Friesian, Ian couldn’t avoid going towards it and running his palm over his beautiful, black head. “Hey, buddy…” He turned to Farrow. “Why did you bring him here? Couldn’t you get a normal ride?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. I hoped you came, that’s all,” the archeologist responded, standing beside Ian. “He’s yours now.”
That was too much, so Ian stepped away from the horse. “I can’t keep it. I travel a lot, I live in small places.”
Farrow seemed to be very disappointed, but he still said, “Okay… I just thought you’d like his company. He kind of reminds me of you. Besides, he likes you.” Lazily, he went to pat his horse’s head.
Watching him, Ian had to admit that it was a nice gesture, so he didn’t kill all of Farrow’s hope. “But you could take care of him while I’m not here.”
With that, he got the other man’s attention. “You mean…?”
“I could come visit him every once in a while.”
There was a smile in the archeologist’s face. He nodded, and said, “Okay. That sounds like a good plan… Are you going to talk to Noah?”
If there was something about Farrow that irritated Ian, it was his persistence to ask the wrong personal questions at the worst moment of all. But this would be the last time they would see each other, so there was no need to pick a fight. “I don’t think it’s in my nature to go back to things… or people, whatsoever.”
Farrow walked towards him, looking serious and defiant, just like the first time he’d entered Professor Eppes’ office and had started causing trouble. But, he didn’t seem to want to fight right now. “Excuse me if I disagree, but I doubt it, considering what you just told me regarding this beauty,” he said, pointing at the gorgeous Friesian.
Ian nodded and saw how the other man offered him his hand. They locked eyes as they shook their hands firmly.
“You’re a good man, Ian. I think you deserve to be at peace with yourself.”
The sniper let go of his hand and nodded as a sign of peace. Then he turned to the road and watched its emptiness. He got into his car and turned on the engine.
It was the right time to walk away.