Ken's Office, Kennison Unlimited Towers, Financial District, Baltiney, New York...
The sight of Ken's office had been something Dean had never pictured in his mind, not even when they had been on the car ride over toward the Kennison Towers. Seeing Ken in a professional setting in general had never crossed the young lad's mind even with him always showing up in sloppy business suits with his eyes giddy and his face covered in five o'clock shadow when he'd been held up at Spyder's place. Ken's office had a good deal of fine wood finish, and black leather which made Dean smirk as he took note of it. He followed the older man inside as he closed and locked the door behind them.
Ken recalled the last time he'd been in his office, the day he'd run into Evylen Towers and did a bit of personal negotiation regarding the Shrouder Brothers contract. The older man made his way over toward his desk and sat in his infamous leather chair, Dean took a seat on the sofa which caused Ken to smirk as he reflected on how many times he'd gotten a woman to spread her legs for him on that very sofa, a fitting thing that Dean had been drawn to it.
"Pop is definitely up to something if he's got me coming back to work early," Ken casually observed his surroundings.
Dean wondered if there had been more to it than what he'd seen of Ken's interaction with his father and brothers but he didn't dare pry at least not at the moment when he still hadn't been over the shock of Ken being an accomplished businessman despite his demeanor on any other day.
Taking a few moments to collect himself, Dean took note of Ken's office and the decor, the older man seemed to be back in his element as he looked about the place as well wondering if anything had been amiss since his lengthy unwanted absence.
They had not long to sit and ponder what they'd been summoned for long as Malcolm Reeves came up the elevator and entered Ken's office finding it a bit shocking to see a well-dressed young man sitting on the sofa with Ken back at his desk.
"Long time no see," he said in jest as he approached the desk.
Ken rolled his eyes as Dean attempted to figure out who this man had been that had gotten Ken's attention immediately.
"I was wondering when you'd show up," said Ken not taking his rather keen eyes off the new arrival.
Malcolm sighed.
"Well in the spirit of predictability, here I am," he replied before turning to see who the younger man on the sofa had been. "Who's this?"
Dean had looked over the strangely thin man with pale skin, blue eyes, and graying dark brown hair. He dressed like an aged hipster and the glasses didn't do him any favors as far as style had been concerned.
"Malc, meet Dean, Dean meet Malc," said Ken sitting back in his office chair with a rather strange expression. "Dean's my new personal assistant, you're gonna be seeing a lot of the kid, comes highly recommended from Kansas and whatnot."
Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes with how casual Ken had been with his backstory when in front of this stranger.
"Dean, Malcolm is sort of like my brother, one that I wanted anyway....been best friends since the sandbox years according to him." continued Ken noting Dean's confusion. "He's good people, but a bit of a pain in my ass since I woke up in the hospital following that accident, so I just take what he says with a grain of salt."
It was Malcolm's turn to roll his eyes before turning his attention to Dean.
"Don't let this asshole influence you the wrong way, you look like a smart kid, you should get out while you can." he urged with a hint of jest as he noted Ken narrow his eyes at him.
"Fuck off," growled Ken as he unceremoniously flipped off his best friend.
Malcolm appeared to have been well versed in Ken's brand of humor and made a show of catching the insult and putting it into his back pocket for later. Dean smirked as he watched the two of them together. It was an interesting dynamic, to say the least, but he wondered how interesting it would be if Malcolm knew what Ken had in mind when he referred to him as a personal assistant.
"Uncomical jesting aside, it's good to see you back in your element, Rye," he said with something of a meaningful tone.
"Not like I had a choice in leaving," muttered Ken still embittered about the suspension.
"Well now that you've sort of settled in, your father asked me to come get you...that business still needs your magic touch and he figured I could keep the kid here company until you return," said Malcolm turning his attention to Dean.
"You mean you'll attempt to probe him for information while I'm gone," replied Ken seeing right through him.
Malcolm shrugged.
"What can I say guilty as charged," he admitted. "We'll just consider it being something like a professional courtesy, what do you say?"
Ken rolled his eyes once more and headed toward the office door to take the elevator back to the lobby where his father's office had been located. He took one last look at Dean before stepping out.
"Don't you volunteer anything," he said while looking at Malcolm.
The older man assured him he wouldn't but Dean had understood that Ken was referring to him when Malcolm came with the questions.
"Also, the kid has PTSD from some childhood event, so don't go overboard and interrogate him or push him too far or I'll come up here and break your face in front of him." growled a visibly annoyed Ken before he took his leave of them.
Once Ken had disappeared out the office door Malcolm turned his attention to Dean. He appeared to have been silently studying him for what seemed like the longest time before taking a seat on an opposite armchair and meeting the younger lad's eyes.
"So...you're a friend of Ryker's?" asked Malcolm trying to gauge the lad and see how much he knew about his apparent employer.
"Ryker?" asked Dean with an arched brow.
"That's his real name, although, since the accident, he seems intent on being referred to as Ken, a play on his last name," explained Malcolm evenly. "Something like being the opposite of his original self, name included."
"Oh," replied Dean in something of a quiet tone not at all appearing that surprised which only seemed to puzzle Malcolm all the more.
"So Dean...how did you come to meet, Ken?" asked the older man who continued to stare at the younger lad through his funny-looking glasses.
"We met through a mutual acquaintance," replied Dean evenly. "I wasn't too fond of him then."
Malcolm chuckled some at this knowing how the boy must have felt running into a trainwreck like Ken.
"He seems to have that effect on a lot of people, so what made you change your mind about him and decided to work for him?" asked Malcolm.
"It wasn't so much of me changing my mind as much as it was me owing him for saving my life," said Dean honestly as he thought back to the way his life had been before he met Ken. "I don't know where I'd be without him, before wasn't a good time for me and he'd seemingly made it all better."
Malcolm appeared to soften his posture upon hearing this. Valencia Ramos had the same admiration for Ryker Kennison as Dean seemed to have for Ken. He supposed there was still something of his old friend left if he took the time to see to a boy in need.
"Explains why he's so protective of you," said Malcolm catching Dean off guard.
"Huh?" asked Dean with an arched brow.
"Like you didn't hear that rather good-natured threat he issued before he left to meet up with the old man in the office, Ken as you call him, isn't very fond of a lot of people and even less protective of strangers, you made quite the impression on him if he's looking out for you so blatantly," Malcolm explained. "Don't tell him I said this, but him caring for you gives me hope."
Dean did not know what to say, he had not even considered that Ken might have actually liked him outside of sex, and now here was his oldest and dearest friend stating as much despite his being in the dark about their physical relationship.
Malcolm began to look at Dean for what seemed like the longest time. He had said nothing but it appeared that he was searching for something, anything to understand him and Ken's relationship of sorts. He took a deep breath and sighed taking off his glasses and wiping his brow before turning his attention back to the lad.
"What I am about to tell you, doesn't leave this room, understand?" asked Malcolm with a rather stern expression.
Dean nodded as he attempted to focus all his efforts on Malcolm's words.
"There is a reason, that we are all so interested in what goes on in Ryker's life." began Malcolm. "While a good deal of his family remains in denial about the events of his infamous car accident, I know the truth, and I've known about it for quite some time."
A look of devastating sadness filed across the older man's face.
"Ryker is my best friend and I didn't even see it before it was too late," Malcolm admitted. "Five years he'd been pretending everything was fine since the crash that killed his wife and children...he went to work and lived life like nothing ever happened...five fucking years and no one, not a single fucking one of us knew that he'd been drowning his sorrows in booze every night and the day of the so-called accident he had a blood alcohol level beyond the limit and was barrelling down a dark road with little to no traffic, Coleman may have done away with the report but I know for a fact that Ryker fully intended to do himself harm that night and nearly accomplished it with no one the wiser."
Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing, this Ryker's accident had not been an accident at all according to Malcolm.
"I can't even look at him without my blood boiling sometimes, the fucking idiot doesn't even remember how much he hurt us all, the accident gave him a brain injury and a mental condition that results in his oh-so-charming disposition and frequent mood swings...we try and manage it, manage him but he's just so damn unruly....none of us can reign him in....and he won't allow it." continued the rather distraught older man. "The reason I'm telling you all this is because I need your help...Ryker seems to care a good deal about you, and I don't know why but it's the only thing that's possibly keeping him going, I need you to look after him when we can't...perhaps you'll be the one to make a difference...I don't know with Ryker anything is possible, I just can't go through losing my best friend all over again, not like this...I get that you're relatively new here and I'm just springing this all on you but...I can't watch it happen again and with his mother out to commit him, things could only escalate for the worst."
Dean had been caught off guard for a few moments, the revelation of Ryker Kennison being Ken's real name, the issues he suffered due to a self-inflicted accident, and the subsequent deaths of his wife and children had been a bit disconcerting for the time being. He could feel his young heartbreak for the man that had meant so much to so many people when thinking back to Spyder's rather tragic tales of the broken regular customer known as "Kenny".
"What do you want me to do?" asked Dean unsure if he should get involved with this.
"Just be there for him when he needs you, and keep him from being an idiot most of the time," replied Malcolm grateful that Dean had at least considered what he told him. "I don't need you to do anything more than that, it just helps to have another set of eyes and ears, you know what I mean?"
Dean nodded understanding perfectly.
"Okay..." he replied in agreement.
Malcolm treated him to a smile and stood on his feet.
"Good man," he said wiping the tears from his cheeks and attempting to make himself look more presentable. "Remember this conversation stays between us."
Dean once more nodded in agreement.
The older man got to his feet then moved toward the office door and took one final look back at the lone blond-haired lad sitting on Ken's black leather sofa.
"I guess I'll see you at dinner," he remarked before taking his leave.
"I guess so," replied Dean unsure if he was supposed to acknowledge that he'd been going.
He watched Malcolm leave and breathed a sigh of relief that the "interrogation" of sorts had been over.
Ken had still been busy with whatever his father and brother had him doing and there had been plenty of time to kill. The lad mulled over what he'd been told about Ken and his past at least from the perspective of his former best friend, and he'd thought more about the upcoming dinner. There had been more to it indeed if Malcolm had been going and given everyone's concerns about his mental health, it didn't seem as if Ken's suspicions about his family had been all that unfounded.