A/N: This is extremely weird. Just a fair warning. I don't actually have a clue why I wrote this. It just sort of… Came to me. But yeah.
You should check out Wiznerd the Eagle, bobthebuilderisdabest, and the burnt Huxley (who is my older sister. If she tries to tell you otherwise, DO NOT LISTEN.)
Thank you and have a nice day! :)
Nathan Detroit listened to the slow, rhythmic dripping of water, his eyes closed, his mind completely void of all thoughts. He ignored the freezing feeling of the cold, hard stone against his back; the pain in his empty stomach from lack of food; the stiffness in his body from being cramped against the wall of the jail cell. He only felt the pain and emptiness in his heart.
It had all happened too fast. One minute, he and all of the other guys were shooting crap. The next, Adelaide burst into their hideout, and, upon discovering what was going on, proceeded to call the police and swear to Nathan that she never wanted to see him again. Before Nathan could try to reason with her, she was gone, along with all the other gamblers, to be replaced with Lieutenant Brannigan himself and several other policemen. Now he was here in jail, having lost everything; his fiancée, his job, his friends, his money… his very freedom had been torn away from him in a blink of an eye.
He heard footsteps coming down the hall towards his cell. He didn't open his eyes. At this point, someone could try to murder him and he wouldn't flinch. When he heard someone fiddle with a key in the lock of his door, he was expecting a guard offering him food which he would inevitably ignore, but this time, it was something different.
"Hello there, Nathan." said the all-too-familiar voice of Lieutenant Tyrone Brannigan.
Shocked, Detroit opened his eyes to see the policeman standing at the door of his cell, holding a tray with a bowl of chicken soup. He didn't reply.
"I've been told you haven't eaten in a week, I thought I'd come check on you." Brannigan said, approaching the inmate.
Nathan reasoned it must have been a week since his arrest. Although, quite frankly, he couldn't tell the passage of time anymore.
Brannigan sighed, setting the tray down in front of Nathan and sitting beside the other man.
"I'm assuming you're not going to eat." he said when the other man was still ignoring him, his bloodshot eyes gazing off into the distance. Ty stared intently at Nathan. A little more than a week ago, that man was happy, well-groomed, and adorably chubby. Now, he was none of those things. Tyrone hated to see him this way, and he felt that it was all his fault. But, he tried to convince himself, he was just doing his job. Regardless, he had never seen such pain in any criminal's eyes, let alone Nathan Detroit's…
"I'm sorry about your fiancée." the Lieutenant said finally.
"No, you're not." snapped the inmate, his voice a hoarse whisper.
"Listen, Nathan. I'm not sorry that you're here; you broke the law. If I were to let you go without charge, I would be the one in the wrong. But you're not evil. You may be a gambler and a sinner, but you deserve the sentence you already got, not to have your heart broken. And for that, I'm truly sorry."
Nathan finally made eye contact with the policeman. "I didn't think you cared about me."
He shrugged. "I've tried to hate you, Detroit, but I could never really bring myself to it."
The two men looked at each other for a moment.
"Now, are you eating that, or am I going to have to feed it to you?" asked the officer, nodding towards the rapidly cooling bowl of chicken soup.
A/N: This next bit came out a little… interesting. It was an accident! Just remember, he's eating SOUP. SSOOUUUPPPPP.
Nathan didn't move. Tyrone sighed, leaning over to grab the bowl and spoon. He sat back down, gathering a small amount of soup into the spoon before bringing it to Detroit's lips. To Brannigan's surprise, the other man complied, opening his mouth slightly. As the warm liquid slid down his throat, he realized how desperately hungry he was. He moaned softly as the spoon left his mouth, closing his eyes. Brannigan smiled a bit at his success, quickly providing Nathan with another small amount of chicken soup, which Detroit quickly swallowed as well. With each spoonful, he seemed to get a little bit stronger.
A little while later, Brannigan was scraping the sides of the bowl for one last spoonful of soup. Nathan greedily accepted it, opening his eyes as he heard the officer set the empty bowl aside.
"Sorry, that's all." he said to Nathan.
"You're very welcome."
Ty moved to get up, but Nathan stopped him.
"Don't leave me." he muttered.
Brannigan looked back at him in silence for a moment. "So... you don't hate me?" the officer asked somewhat incredulously.
"You're better than nobody."
Tyrone smiled, sitting back down, this time scooting closer to Nathan's side.
Said inmate was suddenly feeling extremely exhausted. Nathan closed his eyes, and, to Brannigan's surprise, he leaned his head against Ty's shoulder. The policeman draped an arm around Nathan's shoulders, holding him closer, and leaned his head on the other man's. Brannigan started to feel quite comfortable, and he closed his eyes as well.
As the two men sat like this for a few minutes; they felt quite at ease with each other. Nathan kept his eyes closed, but made sure not to fall asleep, for he feared that Brannigan wouldn't be there when he woke up. He found that no matter what the officer had done to him before today, he couldn't hate him. Maybe he could hate the Lieutenant Brannigan who searched for him and his crap game for months on end and brought him to jail but he couldn't hate Ty, the man who cared about his loss, who spoon-fed him chicken soup, who he was currently cuddled up against. In fact, he rather liked Ty.
Brannigan would have worried about what the other policemen would think if he spent so long with a prisoner, but he felt it was worth it. Also, his inferior officers had learned not to question him. He decided to stay with Nathan as long as that man wanted.
So in an unspoken mutual agreement, neither of them moved for some time, completely relaxed with each other.
A few minutes later, Tyrone began to wonder if the other man had fallen asleep. He slowly raised his head to check. Nathan felt the policeman move, and, worried that he was going to leave, opened his eyes, lifting his head off Brannigan's shoulder.
"Oh, sorry, Nathan; I thought you had fallen asleep. Don't worry; I'm not going anywhere."
Detroit was relieved. Brannigan smiled, touching his free hand to Nathan's cheek. Without thinking, he brought their faces together; touching his lips to Nathan's affectionately. Detroit was surprised at the kiss, but he was much too tired to act upon his shock. When Ty pulled away, Nathan found himself drawn back. His arms fell around the other man's waist, his mouth touching Tyrone's again. Their second kiss only lasted a few seconds before fatigue got the best of Detroit and he immediately fell fast asleep. Noticing Nathan was no longer conscious, Ty held the other man close for a second. He broke their kiss and took a deep breath, preparing to leave the other man alone again. But as he tried to stand, Nathan's arms were still around his waist, so Detroit weighed him down, his head falling somewhat adorably to Brannigan's chest.
The officer groaned, now physically unable to leave that man alone in a cold jail cell, exhausted, lonely, and heartbroken. Where he should be.
Ty looked down at Nathan, thinking of how he had just spent the past few months of his life chasing him tirelessly, in hopes of giving him the exact fate. But now that it was finally true, that this streets of New York City were Nathan Detroit-free, Brannigan wished it weren't. He loved Nathan.
"I'm bailing you out." he whispered.