<b><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a64dff">"Fuck you."</span><br/>
</i></b><br/>"Yeah, yeah, fuck me. As if you'd be so lucky," Ash grunted, the tense muscles in his arms flexing against Joe's pathetic efforts to slither from his iron grasp. After a rather frustrating bout of wriggling, the terrified criminal settled, his body going loose and limp beneath Ash's thighs, though the latter's hold on narrow wrists failed to cease. Ash's focus was not on how tightly he was clutching Joe, but rather Miles' father. The older male seemed a little jostled from his round of fisticuffs with the intruder, but he composed himself well, approaching and settling himself down on the floor by Joe's head. Ash's curious green eyes followed Casper, his lips slightly parted as warm breath escaped him. A primitive node of Ash's mind briefly thought about how much better Casper looked when clothed in nothing but a slightly damp towel.<br/><br/>The absurdity of the situation lent itself well to Ash's unusual train of thought, so much so that he almost failed to consider just how<i>strange</i>it was for him to be eyeing the smooth lines of Casper's neck--the only bit of skin now available for Ash's viewing pleasure--while pinning another teenager down on the floor of his best friend's home.<i>His best friend... </i>Miles must be so confused, so utterly dumbstruck by the blubbering stranger that had intruded upon him. Ash tore his eyes away from Casper to look off in the vague direction of Miles' bedroom. He wanted to go there, to check and see if Miles was all right, but surely Casper would've attended to that already. If Casper wasn't wholly concerned, perhaps Ash needn't be. But he couldn't stop himself from wondering what was going through Miles' mind, or what he was going to tell him about this whole mess.<br/><br/>Fingers against his hot skin distracted him, bringing Ash's attention back to the two males on the floor with him. Casper was touching his arm, telling him to ease off of Joe's wrists. The boy cleared his throat and complied, tensing his jaw up as he readjusted himself and his grip, allowing his digits to gently encase Joe's limbs. He found he liked the way Casper lingered, and a part of him bemoaned the separation of the man's gentle caress from his skin.<i>He's Miles' father</i>, he told himself, but his body didn't seem to care about that, and a soft pink hue remained on Ash's skin even when Casper's focus was drawn elsewhere.<br/><br/>The boy was sobbing again, clear mucous running from his nostrils as he sniffed and sniveled beneath Ash. Casper was prodding him once more, attempting to convince the trapped teenager to speak. It seemed all of this had been far too much for Joe (perhaps something he should have considered prior to attempting to break into Casper's house), and words began to spill from him, sloppy and hurried.<br/><br/>"Calm down, just compose yourself and explain what happened," Ash proposed, his voice soft and comforting, the good cop to Casper's bad. The previous ire of his tone had dissipated, leaving only hints of encouragement and interest. Whether he was Casper's demands or Ash's nudging that convinced Joe, once the boy got started he couldn't seem to stop, and Ash was left baffled and numb as Joe explained himself.<br/><br/><i>Lainey Richardson</i>. Why hadn't he put the pieces together before? Ash was aware of Shane's death, suspected Miles, then Joe, for his murder. The name should have meant something to him, but he had been far too preoccupied with Casper, and then Joe's strange behavior. But he had heard absolutely<i>nothing</i>about Lainey. Not in the news reports he had seen on television, not in the whispered rumors that plagued their school. One could reasonably assume she was secluding herself during the mourning of her brother, but if what Joe was saying was true (and it didn't seem like he would go through all this trouble if it wasn't), poor Lainey had another reason to be hiding away from the world.<br/><br/>Joe's story left a sour taste in Ash's mouth. The drinking, the stupidity, the hunting for sex at the bar. All of that would have been forgivable. Ash scowled as he stared down, feeling a disgusting, slimy aura slither up us arms as he continued to hold Joe. Simply touching the boy's flesh was making him want to retch, but he didn't move.<br/><br/>"Stop blaming the alcohol," he snapped, utterly disgusted by Joe's instance that he had been just<i>so, so drunk</i>. "I don't give a fuck if you were sober, drunk, high. It doesn't matter. You purposefully got some poor girl trashed and then<i>raped her in an alleyway</i>. You're less than scum."<br/><br/>Though Joe's actions and retelling were appalling, Ash was concerning himself further with the implications of his story. Miles was still somehow wrapped up in all of this, and Joe very obviously wasn't the one who had murdered Shane like he had suspected. But... what was Miles<i>doing </i>out there? He was either part of the group raping Lainey, or the group that had interrupted them. But if he were part of the group doing the interrupting, why would he have fought with Shane? Why would he have killed him... assuming he did at all? But Miles couldn't have been a part of the<i>other</i>group. He wasn't like that, not even when drunk. He was kinda dumb and clueless, sure, but he wouldn't take advantage of a girl. He wasn't like that. Right?<br/><br/>A long, drawn out sigh left Ash's lips, his body relaxing, his fingers releasing their hold on Joe. He didn't expect Joe to attempt to buck him off anytime soon, and even if he did, Ash was bigger, stronger, and not a bawling mess. His face was carved into a pensive mask as he considered everything Joe had shared. This was all far more than Ash ever could have expected, and he was having trouble absorbing it all, at least initially. Pieces of the Macey's puzzle were slowly revealing themselves, making the night a clearer picture in Ash's mind, but there were questions left unanswered, worries twisting and writhing in the pit of Ash's stomach that left him thoughtful and quiet.<br/><br/><b><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">"Ash..."</span><br/>
</i></b><br/>Casper was whispering for him, and the young man couldn't help but look up, finding himself pulled into Casper's gaze. "I would've been a right twat if I hadn't tried to help," he said, smiling gently as Casper rained compliments down on his impressive musculature and overall aesthetically pleasing physique. "You're not so bad yourself," he reiterated, still softly wishing Casper hadn't been so keen on hiding his body with clothes.<br/><br/>"I... I don't know if I should leave," Ash replied slowly, furrowing his brows as he thought. "If you take him to the police, it's just your word against his if he decides to recant. And Lainey doesn't know you... I don't know if the police would investigate something without a victim complaint. I mean, they<i>should, </i>and maybe knowing this is all related to Shane's death would help the case in some way. Find Shane's murderer." He paused. If Miles was involved, perhaps that wouldn't be such a good idea. But if Miles was the killer, or was somehow involved with Lainey, shouldn't he be punished, too?<i>But he's my friend</i>...<br/><br/>"I don't mind going with you for support, if necessary, Mr. Hawkins. And I've seen Lainey around before. I don't really know her, but I've seen her. Maybe I could help. Or, if you don't want me to go, I can stay here with Miles. He must be freaked out."<br/><br/>No, indecision wouldn't be good here. Even if this wasn't one of Ash's many areas of expertise, something needed to be done. He didn't want to just let things die here, or be responsible of Joe didn't receive the punishment he was due.<i>Something</i>needed to happen. For Lainey.<br/><br/>Ash removed himself from the whimpering Joe. He stood, once more towering over Casper and the despicable figure on the floor. "I'm going to go check on Miles. I have to get my shirt anyway. Then I'm coming with you to the station. It's the least I can do. I don't feel comfortable just letting this guy wander out of my sight.<br/><br/>"Don't move," Ash commanded, glaring at Joe. "You don't want to make me tackle you again. I won't be so gentle next time."<br/><br/>With a quick nod to Casper, Ash returned to Miles' bedroom, slowly moving to his friend's side and kneeling down next to him. "You all right?" he asked, reaching for Miles' shoulder and patting it gently. "I'm sorry about all that. Seems a psycho decided to come and infiltrate your house. Your dad's got him though, and we're gonna take care of him.<br/><br/>"Miles... you don't remember anything else about the night you got yourself all messed up like this, right? You don't recall being around any girls, do ya?" Perhaps it was a pointless thing to ask, surely Casper would have grilled Miles mercilessly about everything that happened, but he had to ask for himself, had to make sure. He didn't want to believe Miles could get into this much trouble, but Joe had revealed too much terrible, intriguing information. Ash couldn't just ignore it. Once he received some semblance of an answer, he'd go with Casper to deliver Joe to the proper authorities.<br/><br/><i>Use that thick head of yours, mate. Tell me something good.</i>