Cut and Run 7 - Touch and Geaux

Zane might try to get away. When Zane looked at the object over Ty’s shoulder, his chest fluttered at the sight of the silver anchor token Ty had made him. I believe in you , it read.
    Zane wanted to argue, to beg Ty not to make him leave him here. But Ty was right. He had realized it himself, remembering the way he’d watched Becky, thinking her joy was shared. The way he observed Ty’s vibrant lust for life and fooled himself into thinking he was living just by basking in that glow.
    But he had no friends. He had no joys. He had nothing that wasn’t about Ty or the job.
    He had to learn to live. If he was a phoenix, he had to learn to fly on his own, or he’d keep smoldering in his own ashes.
    He nodded against Ty’s cheek. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

Zane sat at his desk, finishing up paperwork from a racketeering case they had been building for the last four weeks. He’d been working without a partner, taking on more responsibilities as a team leader. Two weeks ago, the Assistant Special Agent in Charge had been promoted and transferred to a different post, and Zane had unofficially moved into the position, taking even more responsibility until it was filled.
    It was a promotion in every sense of the word, and Dan McCoy had let Zane know the ASAIC was his if he decided to take it. It would mean no more field work.
    No more partner.
    Zane hadn’t been able to say yes, but he hadn’t refused it either. Candidates were being vetted and interviewed, and Zane had time to decide.
    Until then, he concentrated on slowly but surely righting his ship. He’d begun his AA meetings again, keeping the anchor token with him at all times. He’d stopped going to the gym quite as often, trying to fill his free time with other, more varied things. He set up an easel and a massive drop cloth on the top floor of the row house and began painting again. He started talking out loud when the room was empty, like Ty sometimes did, and he found it made his thoughts clearer to send them into the air rather than keep them trapped in his mind to weigh him down. He reread the books he’d clung to all these years, reminding himself why he loved them the first time around. Then he went out and hunted down new ones.
    With Ty’s permission, he went through every nook and cranny in the row house. He looked through all of Ty’s books, finding half a dozen with cutouts and things hidden in them: passports, lockbox keys, money from several different countries, a flash drive, the emblem from the grill of the Bronco, and one of Elias Sanchez’s dog tags. He put it all back.
    He finally looked under the kitchen sink, hunting through everything to find what it was Ty had hidden under there. He’d caught Ty once, when he’d lost his sight, rummaging through here. What he finally found made him grin from ear to ear: a box of Cuban cigars inside a fireproof, portable safe. He took one out and put the rest back where he’d found them.
    The most shocking thing he found, though, was something he’d always known was there. In an armoire in the spare bedroom, Ty kept dozens of little boxes. Decorative boxes, old cigar boxes, leather jewelry cases. Zane had never asked about them, never looked in them. He’d always been just a little afraid to see what Ty kept in those boxes.
    Ty managed to surprise him yet again. Inside he found trinkets Ty had collected over the years. Things he’d picked up and taken home for no apparent reason. Things from cases he’d worked. Things from people he’d known. In one box, Zane found a bottle cap from a Shiner beer, the kind he’d had in Texas. A poker chip. A purple crayon. A piece of the fake skin they’d used to cover his tattoo on the cruise ship. A dried flower.
    Zane discovered that Ty was basically a squirrel.
    After the initial shock of being alone, he started branching out further, trying to find out more about himself instead of Ty. He went to a few Orioles games alone, immersing himself in the intricacies and inches that had so fascinated him as a child. He started putting his knife skills and love of puzzles to good use and taught himself to cook.
    He stood outside of a bar in Fell’s Point with dozens of others and watched the news as it was announced that Osama bin Laden had been killed. For the first time in over a week, Ty called him. They watched the same newscast, sharing it together, neither saying more than ten words.
    He escorted Clancy to her sister’s wedding,