Title: No Way Out
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ryo, Dee, Chief Smith, OCs.
Rating: PG
Setting: After Vol. 7.
Summary: Trapped in a flooding basement, Dee and Ryo seem to be facing certain death…
Word Count: 2777
Content Notes: Life or death peril.
Written For: Challenge 274: It's A Trap.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
A/N: I had no intention of writing this when I started this morning, I was supposed to be writing a 500 word ficlet for another challenge, but somehow...



Ryo shuddered, cold and wet, trapped in the dark of this cellar with the water level rising now past his knees. It was slow but inexorable; how many hours would it take to reach his waist, his chest, his neck? He didn’t know, but it would happen, eventually. The storm was raging harder than ever; he could hear the wind howling through the broken windows of the building above, hear the drum roll of thunder, even see an occasional flicker of lightning through the small grating on the far wall, but the sound of the pouring rain was drowned out by the cacophony of other noises.

They were going to die here, locked in the basement of an abandoned tenement, unable to escape. The door was solid metal, with no handle or keyhole on the inside; they’d seen that by the flickering flame of Dee’s lighter hours ago when they’d first regained consciousness, lying on a rough concrete floor that had already been awash with water.

It must have been the wetness that had brought them to their senses. They’d scrambled to their feet, relieved to be together and alive, but their relief had been short-lived once they’d realised the water they were standing in was gradually getting deeper. By the time they’d explored their prison any hope of finding a way out had been extinguished.

“We’re going to die here, aren’t we?” Ryo said.

Dee only heard him above the storm because they were so close, clinging together in an attempt to conserve some small amount of body heat.

“Don’t talk like that. We’ll get out of this.” Dee’s voice was rough; they’d spent the first hour shouting for help, for all the good it had done either of them. There were few people still living around here, mostly homeless people, and nobody was likely to be out and about in this weather if they didn’t have to be.

“Don’t lie to me, Dee. You know as well as I do there’s no way out. If the water keeps rising we’ll drown.” He smiled faintly, even though he knew Dee couldn’t see him. “At least we get to go together. That’s some comfort.”

“Ryo…”

“No, it’s okay. There are worse ways to go; in this cold we’ll probably get hypothermia and pass out before we get around to drowning. We won’t feel anything.” He tightened his arms around his lover. “I love you. I don’t want to die, but…”

“Will you shut up about dyin’?”

“We’re trapped.” Not that Ryo thought Dee didn’t know that, but the way he was talking it didn’t hurt to remind him. “This whole set-up was a trap, and we walked right into it.”

“I know that, dumbass.”

“Then you know we’re not getting out. Stop holding on to false hope and just accept it.” Ryo didn’t mean to snap at his partner, but sometimes it was best just to resign yourself to whatever fate you were facing and make your peace with the inevitable.

“While hope still exists it’s not false,” Dee insisted.

“What hope is there? They took our phones, our radios, and our weapons before they locked us in here. We can’t call for help, or try to shoot our way out…” Not that it would have been a good idea to try even if by some remote chance they’d been allowed to keep their guns. The danger of a ricochet in the confined space was too great, and it would’ve been stupid to risk killing themselves by accident. On the other hand, a quick death rather than the long, drawn-out one they were facing, might have been preferable.

“Prayer,” Dee said simply, interrupting Ryo’s thoughts. “Mother always said someone up there must like me considerin’ all the scrapes I managed to get out of with barely a scratch.”

Ryo was a pragmatist, he didn’t disbelieve, but he tended to think if there was a God, then he expected people to get themselves out of any trouble they got themselves into instead of asking him for help every five minutes. Still, they were out of other options and their situation was going steadily downhill; the water was almost up to their hips now, the storm was showing no indication of letting up in the foreseeable future, and nobody knew where they were. If praying helped Dee feel more in control, then who could it possibly hurt?

“Pray then, for both of us, because if there’s any way for us to get out of this in one piece I can’t see it.” For his part, Ryo just intended to hold on to Dee as tightly as he was able and accept his fate with as much grace and dignity as he could muster. As long as Dee was with him he could face anything, even certain death.

It had all started when they’d received a tip over the phone from one of their regular informants concerning the whereabouts of a gang who’d stolen a shipment of confiscated weapons that had been on their way to be destroyed. He’d told them where the gang were holed up, in one of several abandoned brownstones near the East River, which were scheduled to be demolished in a few months due to their foundations becoming unstable.

Dee and Ryo had arrived on foot, after parking a couple of blocks away, intending to radio for backup once they were sure the tip-off was legit. The storm had already been rumbling in the distance, the leading edge of a hurricane that had been causing a lot of damage as it slowly worked its way up the eastern seaboard, but they’d thought they’d have time to check things out, get backup, and make any arrests before it hit. Probably would have if everything had gone to plan, but they’d been ambushed.

The gang had been waiting for them, concealed in the shadowed alleyways between buildings. Ryo had taken one down with a bullet to the chest, and Dee had hit a second in the shoulder, but the other six had disarmed them, stunning them with tasers, and they’d been dragged inside.

Their informant, Shady, had already been there, tied to a chair, dead, his face black and blue, both eyes wwollen shut. He’d obviously been savagely beaten for information. That had been worse for Ryo than his and Dee’s own predicament. Poor old Shady never did anyone any harm; he didn’t deserve such an awful fate.

The gang’s leader had questioned Dee and Ryo too, with his fists and feet, being the kind of bully who enjoyed using his hands rather than weapons to extract information. He hadn’t gotten much from either one of them, although he didn’t seem to care much, having already reached the conclusion that they didn’t have backup with them. He’d been in a hurry anyway, wanting to get away from there ahead of the storm, so he’d beaten both detectives unconscious and had them tossed in the basement, with the only way in or out locked up tight, knowing he and his men would be long gone before anyone found the bodies, if they ever did. They hadn’t even been tied up.

Dee had called that a stroke of luck when they’d come to, before they’d discovered just how bad a situation they were in. That had to have been a good three, maybe four hours ago by now. The storm must have started to make its presence felt while they were still unconscious because they’d awoken to what had at first sounded to them as though demolition had started early, sounds of shattering glass and falling masonry, backed by deep rumbling, and howling like the souls of the damned. Disoriented as they were it had taken them several minutes to realise what they were hearing was wind and thunder. It hadn’t let up since; the storm had to be creeping along at snail’s pace.

“What’re ya thinkin’ about?”

Ryo raised his head from where he’d been resting it on Dee’s shoulder and looked at his lover, no more than a darker shadow in the almost lightless cellar. He wished he could see Dee’s face so he’d have that memory to take with him. As if reading his mind, Dee slipped his lighter from his breast pocket and flicked it on, casting strange shadows over their faces. The water was inching past their waists and Ryo could no longer feel his feet, or most of his legs. The only reason he was still standing was because they’d wedged themselves into a corner, standing on a pile of old packing crates to keep their heads above water for as long as they could.

“You,” Ryo replied even though it wasn’t entirely true. “And Bikky. What will happen to him after…?” He let the question trail off.

“Won’t come to that,” Dee said firmly. “But if it does, Mother would take him in, or Carol’s aunt.”

“I should’ve updated my will.”

“Man, you can be seriously pessimistic at times.” The lighter went out and then there were two arms tight around Ryo’s body, pulling him so close he could almost imagine their two bodies fusing into one. Dee’s lips found his in a long, deep kiss, and Ryo found himself hoping that they could just keep kissing right to the end. It was bittersweet, but perfect all the same.

A grinding, rumbling sound pulled them apart as the thunder rolled and boomed, and lightning cracked, so bright it all but dazzled them, which was ridiculous because they were in a cellar with only one tiny vent high in the opposite wall, through which water was pouring steadily. The rumbling increased, something splashed heavily into the surface of the water, sending a tidal wave over them, and once Ryo had cleared the water from his eyes he looked across and up to see a gaping hole in the ceiling, steadily widening as more chunks of concrete fell into the water, which was rising even faster now.

“What did I tell ya?” Dee crowed. “There’s our way out! Just gotta figure out a way to reach it.”

Part of a wall caved in, tumbling into the cellar, then a massive chunk of the ceiling tipped down, the edge resting on the rubble from the wall, barely two feet away from them.

“Thank you!” Dee yelled over the cacophony of storm and destruction.

Hands and legs numb from the cold, the two men scrambled painfully up the sloping sheet of concrete, using twisted metal reinforcing bars as handholds, dragging themselves up onto the remains of the floor, soaking wet and shivering with the cold. Half the rear of the building was gone, brought down by the subsidence that had condemned the row of tenements in the first place. The rest of it looked none too stable.

“We have to get out of here!” Dee yelled.

“We can’t leave Shady!” Ryo protested, gesturing towards where their informant still sat slumped in the chair he was tied to.

“Yeah, fine, we’ll haul him outta here chair and all. I’ll take the back, you take the front legs.”

Stumbling and tripping every couple of steps, their numb legs reluctant to cooperate, they made their way across the uneven floor, lit intermittently by flashes of lightning. Then, grabbing the chair and struggling with its weight, staggered towards the building’s entrance.

“Think the car might still be there?” Ryo gasped out as they paused just inside the door, getting their bearings and trying to catch their breath before venturing out into the deluge.

“Only one way to find out. Ready?”

“Have to be. I don’t think this place is gonna remain standing much longer.” Ominous creaks and groans could be heard even over the howling gale.

Hoisting Shady and the chair once more, they plunged out into the storm, their breath immediately snatched away. Feeling the wind tugging at their sodden clothing as rain hammered down on them, they half fell down the stoop to the sidewalk, awash with floodwater. Ryo tripped on something he couldn’t see and went to his knees, dropping his end of the chair, its back legs splintering off at the impact.

“You okay?” Dee called.

“Yeah.” Scrambling to his feet again, half the chair fell away when Ryo lifted the front end, reducing the weight and unwieldiness of their burden. “That helps.”

They could barely see where they were going, and could only hope they wee heading in the right direction, but after ten minutes of floundering and falling only to pull themselves more or less upright again, they turned onto a side street that sloped upwards a bit and in the next flash of lightning, spotted their car.

“Hope you’ve still got the keys,” Dee yelled.

“If not we’ll break a window and hotwire it. Assuming the engine will start.”

Turned out that breaking into the car wasn’t necessary. Dumping their burden down in the meagre shelter between the side of the car and the wall of the nearest building, Ryo fumbled through wet, clinging pockets and pulled out the car keys. The gang had left most on the contents of their pockets untouched, only relieving them of weapons and any means of communicating with the outside world.

Ryo unlocked the car, opened the rear door, and between them the lifted Shady into the back seat. There was a groan.

“Where’m I?” a weak voice rasped.

“Shady? Goddamn, thought you were dead!”

“’tective Laynr?” Shady slurred.

“Got it in one. Hang in there, man, gonna get ya to a hospital.” Dee flashed Ryo an incredulous grin, received the same in return.

Clambering into the driver’s seat, Ryo wiped the key dry on a rag, not wanting to risk shorting the engine out, stuck it in the ignition, and glanced at Dee in the passenger seat, crossing his fingers for luck. “Now might be a good time to pray. Ready?”

Dee nodded and Ryo turned the key, breathing a sigh of relief as the engine roared to life.

“Keep your hands and feet off anything metal, just in case we get hit by lightning,” he warned.

Putting the big old sedan in gear and slowly pulling out onto the empty road, Ryo turned the car and started driving back the way they’d come hours before, windshield wipers working overtime.

It was a nightmare journey, steering around rubble, toppled signs and scaffolding, and crashed vehicles, all the time trying to see through the rain streaming down the windows. Occasionally they got half blinded by flashes of lighting, and they could feel the car rock with every powerful gust of wind, but somehow they made it to the nearest hospital, staggering into the ER, carrying Shady between them, semi-conscious and still tied to the remains of the chair. They had ample help as soon as they came through the doors, hands lifting Shady onto a gurney before forcing them both into wheelchairs.

Dee shot Ryo a lopsided grin, the hospital lights showing for the first time just how battered they both were. “Wanna race?”

Ryo snorted, giddy with being alive. “Maybe later. Right now I just want to get dry and warm.”

“I hear ya.”

Slumping into the chairs they let themselves be wheeled away for treatment.

The storm passed sometime during the night and they awoke ensconced in side-by-side hospital beds, to find the Chief scowling at them.

“About time you two idiots woke up. What were ya thinking going off like that without telling anyone?”

“Sorry, Chief,” Ryo said. “We’d intended to call for backup as soon as we made sure things were the way Shady told us, but we walked right into a trap.”

“Hmph. It’s a miracle you’re both alive. You ever do anything like that again and I’ll have both your badges.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Any news on Shady?” Dee asked.

“He’s in intensive care, but the doc says he’ll be fine.” The Chief mellowed slightly. “You did good getting him out of there.”

“Couldn’t leave him behind; the whole building was on the verge of collapse,” Ryo explained.

“I’ll want full reports from you both later. One thing you might like to know though; that gang you and half the NYPD’s been looking for, seems a falling power cable caught their van, electrocuted the lot or them and fused most of the stolen guns together.”

Dee grinned, wincing at the pain of cuts and bruises. “If that isn’t poetic justice, I don’t know what is.”

“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer bunch,” the Chief agreed.

Sometimes, Ryo reflected, everything worked out for the best. Dee had been right not to give up hope.


The End