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benjfen · 6 years

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Let Me Go

I don’t wanna be your hero

I don’t wanna be your big man

I just wanna fight like everyone else.

He’s on hour twenty seven of no sleep, so he smiles in gratitude up at Alastor as he puts a large cup on coffee next to him on his desk.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?”

“Fuck off Fenwick.”

“You love me.”

Moody makes a noise in the back of his throat, and sits at his own desk that’s pressed up against Benjy’s.

“Did you get some sleep?”

“Yeah, a few hours, in the breakroom.”

“Liar.”

“Prove it.”

Moody grumbles again, pulling a file closer to him. Their precinct was more crowded than usual, with extra people and extra phones set up everywhere. All of them, including the pair of them, were working the same case:

The abduction of Jenny Metcalf.

“Any new leads, kid?”

“I don’t think anything you didn’t hear already. We think the bio dad is good for this, but he’s been off the grid for three years.”

“What do you mean?”

“No credit card usage, not sightings of any kind. I put a trace on his accounts, but I doubt we’ll get a hit.

Jenny Metcalf was the daughter of two very wealthy people, Sydney and Roland Metcalf, and they absolutely hated each other. They’d split when she was just six months old, and the divorce had been brutal, nasty. They’d used their daughter against each other time and time again, but Sydney had finally won after Roland had broken into her home in an attempt to scare her. He would’ve gone to jail if he had been the regular sort, but he was far from the regular sort. Money could buy you anything. He hadn’t been seen by anyone in Sydney's circle since, and Jenny had just turned five last week. Sydney had meet a new man named James Atsworth, and they were set to be married next month. He and Jenny adored each other, and there was paperwork in place for him to legally adopt her.

Then, almost thirty hours ago, Jenny had disappeared from her playground at school. One second, the schoolyard aid had seen her, smiled because Jenny was quietly reading a picture book off to the side by the fence, and when had turned around to glance at the children, she’d heard a scream, and when she’d turned back around, Jenny was gone.

Benjy shudders at the thought of that. The helplessness that that woman must have felt, the guilt she might be feeling now.

Moody stands, walking the short line between Benjy’s desk and his. He hated when people were at the precinct, even on huge cases like this when they needed the man power. There had been thousands of ‘leads’ already, and they had to follow up on all of them. But Benjy knew his discomfort was deeper than that. No one liked a kidnapping case, and, as the second day was drawing closer and closer, Benjy knew Jenny’s chances of being found-alive or otherwise, were slipping away. Moody, for as gruff as he was, was always soft on kids. Benjy didn’t understand why he didn’t just go back to regular homicide investigations. Once, at a bar, Benjy had asked Moody this exact question. His partner had just looked at him and said tonelessly “would you?”

Benjy wouldn’t. He didn’t think he could, in all honesty. He’d seen too many horrible things, interviewed too many rape victims, held the hands of too many battered wives and husbands, given too many pep talks to scared kids moments before they had to testify. He’d only been on cases like these for a little over a year, but he knew in his heart that he could never go back.

This is what he needed to do.

Moody lights a cigarette and passes one to Benjy too.

“What kind of assets does this wanker have?”

“Tons of shite. Seven houses-they’ve all been checked, they’re empty, a few boats, once of which they can’t find. That’s what they’re on now, trying to find the boat.”

“They won’t. Not if he took it. That’s a waste of time.”

“I know. Thus, why I’m not on the boat.”

“What else? What else does he have?”

Benjy pulls out a few sheets of paper and starts rattling off things.

“One...two…..six lamborghinis. Four Jaguars. Pair of jet skis. Three motorcycles-that’s just excessive….a fuck ton of race horses...some property in St.Barts that we’re working with Interpol to check out, but it's more than likely undeveloped...a vineyard-”

“The horses. Do you have a list of their names?”

Benjy’s eyes sparkle.

“You mean names he could be using as aliases?”

“Aye.”

“You think this shithead would go publically as Pony Joe?”

“Be serious, Fenwick.”

Benjy lets out a breath, sucking in on the cigarette deeply and then putting it out even though it’s only half smoked, suddenly too jittery.

“Moneypenny’s Lair, Teenage Tragedy, Lady St. Grey….all of these are...oh!”

“Oh?”

“Archibald St. Clair.”

“Jesus, that’s an awful name.”

“Let me type in his info, see if I get any hits.”

Benjy pulls up the search function on his computer. It was the only one in the station, and it’d been moved to his desk because none of the other people he worked with really saw the use in it, nor could they really understand it. He’d ranted to the captain about getting everyone training, but that had just resulted in the move.

“Two Archibald St. Clairs.”

“Unfortunate.”

“One of them is pushing ninety….spends most of his time in Morocco if his bank statements are correct…”

“And the other?”

Benjy looks over the computer at Allastor.

“Just paid a significant amount of money to a leasing office in Kensington.”

Moody’s eyebrows raise.

“Looks like we’ve got a lead.”

They grab their coats, badges and batons and head out.

“Where are you two going.”

Captain Crouch eyes them warrily. Benjy has never seen him this haggard, his mustache wasn’t even waxed.

“A bit of a lead, Captain. Probably nothing. Kensington.” Moody finishes his cigarette and throws it in the trash.

Their captain opens his mouth to say something, and then nods.

“If you see anything, call for backup. I mean it.”

“Yes sir.”

Benjy let's Moody do the talking. He turns up the collar on his coat and follows his partner out the door.

“This is it?”

“Yeah.”

Benjy had spoken to the leasing office on the nearby payphone. Whoever Archibald St. Clair was, the realtor confirmed that he had had a small girl with him when he’d come in to rent. He’d tried to pay cash but he hadn’t had enough on him, and he’d seemed like he was in a bit of a rush.

He shared this with Moody, who sucks his teeth.

“If he doesn’t answer the door, we call for backup. This feels fishy, kid.”

“Agreed.”

Moody walks up the steps first and knocks politely, if not a bit loudly.

“Mr. St. Clair? This is the police. Would you mind answering a few questions?”

Nothing. Benjy didn’t expect there to be.

“Mr. St. Clair?”

Moody knocks again, waiting. Nothing. He pulls out his radio.

“This is Detectives Moody and Fenwick, at 4923 Chelsea Manor Street, back up is requested. Suspect in the Jenny Metcalf place is not responding to police inquir-”

“HELP!”

Both of them freeze, Benjy’s hand going to his nightstick instinctively. That voice sounds so young.

“Back up is requested, URGENTLY.”

“Fuck back up!”

Benjy starts kicking the door as hard as he can. Moody starts yelling over the noise into his radio.

“Distress signs coming from the house, officers going in. Repeat going in!”

He breaks the door down.

“Help!”

It’s coming from the stairs, all the way at the end of an incredibly long hallway. Benjy is closer to the stairs and quite a bit faster.

“Check downstairs, Moody, I’m getting the girl!”

“Fenwick!”

Benjy doesn’t stay to argue, taking the stairs two at a time.

“JENNY?!”

“HELPPP!!”

Benjy kicks the door open to the first room he comes across. Bathroom. Nothing.

“Jenny, my name is Benjy I’m a police officer, are you hurt?”

“No!”

“Can you tell me where you are, sweetheart?”

“I’m in my room!”

“Can you come out?”

“No! I’m stuck!”

Benjy kicks open door after door, finding nothing but empty room after empty room. The house is massive, he didn’t even know that places could have this many rooms, this many doors.

“Benjy, HURRY!”

“I’m hurrying, sweetheart, I’m hurrying. Can you make some more noise? Do you know the Alphabet?”

“Yeah!”

Her voice is coming from the end of the hall.

“Good girl! Can you sing it for me? It’ll help me find you.”

“A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H-I-J-K-L-M-”

Benjy kicks the door at the end of the hall down with so much force it comes off the hinges. Jenny screams at the noise. The room had recently been painted light pink, Benjy can still smell the paint fumes. There’s a bunch of new furniture and toys. It’d look like any normal little girl’s room with the exception of the very scared and very dirty little girl, still in her school uniform, tied to the footboard of the bed by a tether to her ankle. Benjy notices a bucket within her range of movement, but takes no time noticing anything else.

“Hi Jenny! I’m Benjy. I’m going to take you back home to your mom!”

“And James?”

“Yes, baby girl! And James. I just need you to hold very still for me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jenny whimpers as Benjy pulls out his pocket knife and starts cutting at the cord. It was some form of netting, and it was really thick.

“Is the man coming back?!”

“I don’t know sweetheart, but my partner’s downstairs, he’s big and strong, he’s going to stop him if he tries, okay?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Drop it.”

Benjy’s back stiffens as the voice he doesn’t recognize speaks behind him. He feels the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking. He drops the knife.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Roland.”

“Get the fuck away from my daughter.”

“Benjy?!”

As Benjy puts his hands on his head as Jenny looks at him, her big green eyes so scared, her short red hair tangled and going six different ways.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Roland.”

“Yes you can, or I’m going to blow your fucking head off!”

“I hope you’re a really good shot, Roland, because if you did that right now, I don’t think I’d be the only one who got hurt.”

There’s hesitation. Benjy can sense that holding guns to people isn’t common practice to Roland.

“I’m going to stand and turn around now, okay, Roland? So you can see that I’m unarmed. We all want the same thing. We want Jenny to be safe.”

“She’s not safe if she’s with my crazy bitch of an ex-wife.”

Benjy turns slowly. Roland’s handsome face is masked with rage, he’s got a few days worth of stubble on his chin.

“That’s not your choice to make Roland. That’s the court’s choice. You know that.”

“They’re wrong!”

He shoots a shot in the air, Jenny screams, Benjy shifts ever so slightly so he’s covering more of her.

“Maybe they are Roland. Maybe they are. I don’t know. But there has to be an easier way than this, yeah?”

His face contorts with hate.

“Sydney won’t let me see her. She’s letting some fuckhead adopt her, she’s forcing me out!”

Moody appears suddenly, silently, behind Roland in the door. His baton is raised. Benjy catches his eye and looks away quickly, but he can see him in his peripheral

“Gun?” Moody mouths.

Benjy tilts his head slightly in affirmation.

“I know that’s got to be hard, Roland. I can’t imagine how hard that is, but you can’t take Jenny like this. We both know it’s not right.”

Roland’s graspon the gun falters, it lowers slightly, so it’s not directly being pointed at Benjy’s head anymore.

“You got her?” Moody mouths again. Benjy tilts his head slightly again.

“Roland, put the gun down, and we can all walk out of here. Put the gun down, Roland, and we can all go-”

At the word go, Moody whacks the back of Roland’s head and tackles, him. Benjy turns and covers Jenny as Roland pulls the trigger again, shooting the wall on his way down. He’d cut the cord enough that when Benjy picks up Jenny and tugs, she breaks free.

Jenny is screaming, but Benjy holds onto her, running as fast as he can, jumping over the tangle of limbs on the floor as he takes off.

“I’ve got you Jenny, it’s okay, it’s okay!”

His stomach sinks when he hears a gunshot, and Jenny screams again, but he doesn’t stop.

“Jenny LOOK AT ME! It’s okay! Just hold on!”

He keeps running, taking the stairs quickly and carefully, he keeps running, towards the door. He hears the sirens of backup. They’re safe.

He hears more of a commotion, it’s closer, but he keeps going. He hears another shot and suddenly, the bottom of his back in on fire. He falls, but he doesn’t realize it until he feels the hardwood floor hit the bottom of his chin. Jenny’s screaming again. He pushes himself off of her.

“Jenny. Go to the door.”

“Benjy!”

“Jenny GO TO THE DOOR!! RUN!”

There’s another gunshot and Benjy hears Moody yell in pain.

Jenny takes off down the rest of the hallway, and Benjy hears her cry out for help but soon she’s drowned out by the sound of the sierens.

He pushes himself up again, and tries to move his feet back underneath himself. But his adrenaline is pumping and for whatever reason, he can’t get his legs to listen to his brain. He starts pulling himself forward. He knows he’s hurt. He needs help. His shoulder catches on fire too and Benjy yelps from the pain.

“Where is she?!”

Roland. Benjy feels a foot in the side of his ribs, kicking him over onto his side.

“Where is she?!”

“Gone.”

It hurts to speak, but he looks up at this man, squinting. Benjy decides if he’s going to kill him, Roland is going to have to look him in the face. Benjy feels his ribs crack as more and more blows land in his side.

“You motherFUCKER!”

He aims the gun at Benjy’s face, but he rolls out of the way just in time. He hears the bullet hit the floor next to him, and then he’s being kicked in the ribs again.

“I’m gonna kill you.”

It’s a calm, chilling statement. Benjy can’t speak anymore. He sees his mother, laughing at his eighth birthday. Graham, when it was good, smiling at him from the bed. The last one, well it doesn’t surprise him, but it hurts a lot more than the kicks he’s getting in the ribs. Cleona, wearing that look on her face that she’d had when he’d seen her last; like she wanted nothing more than to fall in love with him.

It was too bad, he thinks. That’d they’d never get the chance. They would’ve really been something special.

He hears the gun cock again.

Allāhu 'akbar..

The shot fires, and he uses the last bit of strength he has to move out of the way. He moves up, the bullet hits him in the ribs, just below his heart.

“AGH!”

Moody, having been shot in the knee, has finally made it down the stairs. He tackles Roland, getting him away from Benjy, getting the gun out of his hand.

“Don’t do this! You’ve got two officers down, Metcalf, don’t make this any worse!”

The adrinnely is slowly wearing away, and blackness is creeping into his vision. He feels his breathing start to speed up, and his eyes flutter closed.

His mother, she’s smiling at him. And she looks so beautiful.

Before the world goes black, Benjy hears one last gun shot. Before the world stops, he feels himself smile back.

#self para #001.5 #all of this is absolutely fine #drabble

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