Cut and Run 1 - Cut and Run

“Unless we break profile."
    Ty shook his head and frowned. “We need to take this to Burns,” he said softly, as if they might be overheard. “'Cause right now my number one suspect would be me."
    Zane's eyes narrowed. “Was your last assignment here in New York?” he asked.
    Ty pressed his lips together tightly, prepared to offer the usual “that's classified.” But there was really no point in that. “Yes,” he answered finally.
    Jaw setting, Zane stared at Ty for a long minute. “You're not the killer,” he finally said evenly. “There will be evidence to track and clear you. Just like there's evidence to track and trap him. We just have to find it."
    Ty returned the look with one that was unreadable. Finally, he nodded and looked down at his booted feet.
    "Ty,” Zane said, trying to get his attention. “I can't do this without you."
    "You know they'll take us off this case, right?” Ty responded softly. “We're both probably looking at probation until I'm cleared."
    "You said it before. Burns put us on this case for a reason; both of us are already fuckups who should have been fired or buried. He'll keep us on it,” Zane asserted as he studied the other man. “How much is still missing from your head?"
    "Why?” Ty asked defensively.
    "We can use it to our advantage. If you're off your usual style, that may throw him,” Zane pointed out seriously. “Of course, you might wake up after a thirty-minute nap and be back to your usual irascible self."
    Ty stared at him for a minute and then his lips twitched in a half-smile. “Irascible?” he echoed weakly. Rubbing his hands over his eyes with a sudden sigh of frustration, he shrugged. “It's like swimming through cotton, trying to remember the past couple weeks,” he answered. “I remember some of the smallest details. But other things, bigger things, I can't recall at all."
    Taking the few steps up so he could reach him, Zane pulled Ty's hands away from his eyes. “Don't push it—that's what the doctors told me. Trying consciously to remember will just give you a bad headache."
    Ty looked down at him, nonplussed. “I already have a headache,” he admitted.
    Zane smiled sadly and looked over Ty carefully, still holding both of Ty's wrists in his hands. “You look ... unwell,” he murmured with a frown.
    "I can't think,” Ty murmured in response, fidgeting as much as a man could when he was perched on top of a staircase with both hands being held by someone else.
    Zane sobered and watched his agitated movements, slowly releasing his hands so he could pace if he wanted to. “Ty. You've got to calm down. There's only so much we can do right now ; that doesn't mean we won't be able to do more later ."
    "I can't,” Ty finally told him with an uncharacteristic show of emotion. He sat down hard on the top step and bent over, placing his hands on each side of his head and squeezing his eyes shut as if he were trying to block out everything. He began to rock back and forth slowly as he spoke. “I can't concentrate on anything, not when all I can think about is you. And now with this fucking headache,” he ground out in frustration, not finishing his thoughts as he closed his eyes once more and held his head in his hands. “I feel sick,” he finally added pitifully.
    Zane's breath was caught in his chest. This wasn't what he'd expected at all. Ty was obviously having more difficulty with the concussion than he had been outwardly letting on, and the slip of admitting that he couldn't concentrate on anything but Zane made his body warm uncomfortably. It was hard to decipher what Ty really meant through the babbling.
    "What do you suggest?” Zane asked softly, trying to stay as detached as possible, at least for a little longer.
    Ty pressed his lips tightly together and breathed out slowly through his nose. “I think I need to request medical leave,” he answered finally, his voice hoarse and full of pain. It was obvious that he had never before been forced to admit he was not physically capable of something.
    The mask broke, and Zane looked stunned. “Ty ... I...” He didn't know what to say. His hands curled into fists.
    "This can't be done alone; we've already established that,” Ty breathed. “And I can't ... think ,” he ground out in frustration. “If I request it before they can suspend us, the suspension won't go in your file,” he added.
    Zane nodded slowly, feeling helpless. Powerless. Again. He lifted both hands and