Cut and Run 2 - Sticks and Stones

He looked down at one of his boots and pulled a stick from the tread of it. They stayed quiet for a few minutes, with Zane gazing down at him. “How are you holding up?” Zane finally murmured.
    Ty merely shrugged and looked off into the distance. There wasn’t really much to stare at, as dark as it was. It was obvious from the line of his shoulders that he was not going to talk about his father or his feelings or much of anything else. He rarely did.
    “I’m starting to think that we’re better off at work than we are on vacation,” Zane mentioned after a few more quiet minutes.
    Ty was silent for a moment, but then he lowered his head and snorted. He chuckled ruefully, the sound loud in the still, cold night.
    Zane smiled as he finished his cigarette and stubbed it out carefully on an exposed rock before he put it back in the slightly crumpled pack. “Next time we should tell Burns to send us on a case somewhere miserable. Fate would mean we’d be safe there.”
    Ty nodded in agreement as his laughter trailed off. He didn’t seem to have much of anything to say, and Zane wondered why he’d sought him out. He stared off into the mountain blackness without moving again. It felt like a moment that deserved a beer or two, even though Zane knew he wouldn’t have been drinking.
    Finally, Ty looked over at Zane and sighed. “Got any more of those cigarettes?” he asked quietly.
    Zane slowly raised an eyebrow. He got the pack out of his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, sliding it between his lips. After another moment, he had it lit, and after inhaling once, he offered it to Ty.
    Ty shook his head as he reached out and took the cigarette. Instead of stubbing it out and flicking it away like he usually did when he took one of Zane’s cigarettes, he took a long drag of it and handed it back to Zane wordlessly.
    After a few heartbeats, he reached out and took it again, keeping it this time.
    He was silent, unmoving as he sat with his elbows propped on his knees and his head cocked to the side, only occasionally putting the cigarette to his lips.
    Zane didn’t know what else there was to do. He’d learned that sometimes the best thing to do with Ty was to wait. Sometimes his partner needed time to work up to what he wanted to say, and sometimes he never said anything at all. So Zane kept quiet and sat down heavily next to him, facing the opposite way so their shoulders brushed as they sat, extending his legs, and lightly prodding the swollen cheekbone under his black eye with one long finger.
    “How’s it feel?” Ty asked him softly after several minutes of sitting in silence.
    “Hurts like hell,” Zane admitted. The aching throb in the whole side of his face was his pulse. He’d be really colorful for the next several days.
    Ty looked over at him with a sympathetic frown. He was the only one who had remained uninjured through the whole ordeal; even after the can bomb, the grenades, the beating he’d taken, and the skirmish, he’d come out with just a bruise or two from the punches he’d taken. He didn’t even have a scratch on him. Zane wondered if Ty was adding a bit of survivor’s guilt to all his other current problems. He watched him worriedly. Ty didn’t deserve this.
    Ty lowered his head again and blew a stream of smoke down toward his feet. “You sure it’s not broken?” he asked mildly.
    Zane shut his eyes and made himself unclench his jaw, because that just made it hurt even more. “No,” he muttered.
    Ty turned his head to look at him, examining him in the darkness. It was hard to make out his features, so he probably wasn’t seeing many of Zane’s, either. After a moment, he nodded and looked away. “We’ll get it checked out when we get back,” he said softly.
    Zane nodded. He knew better than to think that was the last he’d hear about it, but for now, he sighed. “It’ll help when I can get some sleep,” he said quietly. It was getting ridiculous how much he was saying and thinking that lately.
    Ty glanced at him as he blew smoke to the side. “Still with the nightmares?”
    “And then some.”
    “You stopped seeing the shrink?” Ty asked carefully.
    Zane’s nose wrinkled as he peered out into the darkness. “I had a disagreement with the Bureau therapist in Miami.”
    Ty was silent, mulling it over. “Like a… personal disagreement?” he finally asked.
    “I suppose you could call it that,” Zane said as he sank his cold hands into his jacket pockets. “I