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English
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Published:
2016-01-30
Updated:
2016-01-30
Words:
1,499
Chapters:
1/?
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6
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23
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538

Life Can Only Be Experienced Once. In Theory.

Summary:

In life, there is no clear path. A person will wonder until they find happiness, but will still continue to move, just not always alone.

Chapter Text

Henry yelped as red polyester flew at his face, the elastic of the speedo making it a sharp hitting projectile. He very really growled his son's name, but he held no doubt in his might that Abe had been the one to tell Adam this story. Doctor Morgan grabbed the unwelcome- and believed to have discarded, gift, and shoved it into his coat pocket.

As it was the summer time, the night air was not chilling but hardly warm. So, Henry pulled his coat closer to his body, stuffing his nose into his silk scarf, and leered at the man who sat before the dock, one leg lay along the stone wall while the other hung over the edge. His blank expression was clear, even in the low light of the distant streetlights, and with the shadow of his flat-cap.

"Have you only ever swan in these water in death?"

Adam, Henry was discovering, had a mind like a maze. The complex path was simple in thought, but each turn had the chance of pulling forth something completely unexpected.

Adam cared not for what people thought, could kill without much thought; the whole ideal of death dulled. And yet he liked to feed the ducks at ponds, and gulls at the shore. One night could drink fine whiskey, then wine, then beer from a can. On draft or a bottle was one thing, but a can?!

He had a fascination with old weapons, blades most of all, and would clean them while watching reality TV. He avoided children at all costs but his eyes would always linger. He was an amazing action, a brilliant liar, it was what he lived by, his face stoic in every aspect. And he was playful, loved to get a raise out of Henry.

But this moment also seemed stranger than usual. Adam was a cold person, detached himself from people. And for sanity purposes, it made perfect sense. However, at this moment he seemed almost silly, his stiff movements relaxed. And yet there was something not right. Like it was almost an act, as if Adam was even more shut off than when the two had first met face to face.

Henry frowned as Adam started to unbutton his shirt. "You want to swim here?"

"We both wake in water," Adam spoke, folding his shirt and placing it on the stone before standing to open his trousers. "Many cultures see the sea as a representation of death. Another way to live which we can not as we are. Or maybe we surface in water as that is where we both died. I do wonder if there were other options."

"Like?" Henry crossed his arms. "Die in a desert and wake up in a sand box?"

"Being naked in a park might be harder to explain."

Henry quickly looked away as Adam took hold of his boxers, noting the hat still on his head. The only idem of clothing that would be left.

"What would the police think if they found you naked next to a set of swings?"

Henry could not help but chuckled at the image. That would be much harder to explain. He turned back as he heard a splash. He shook his head at the bubbles that arose from the water, then the head that appeared a few meters away.

"The police petrol this area. I could not risk getting caught again," Henry said before Adam could suggest anything.

"Not for another hour-"

"No," Henry sat himself down on the brick away that circled the the dock, fully decided that he would stand his ground. Or maybe push Adam's clothes over the edge and leave him there. It would not be cruel in comparison to what he had suffered at the man's hands.

The idea was pushed away at the vibrating in one of his coat pockets.

"Jo... I see. Yes. I'm out at the moment. But I can be there in twenty-," he glared as Adam met his eyes, a slight smirk across his lips. "Fifteen minuets. Okay. Yes. See you soon. Goodbye."

Adam swam over as the other man ended the call.


 

Henry overlook the wound on the decided, the edges of the killing strike were smooth. The blade was wide and not serrated. He tilted the picture in his grasp, fully knowing he had not missed anything in his autopsy. He was just busying himself, waiting for the blood tests to come back.

Lucas was delayed, he likely got distracted by some gossip. It was at times like these that Henry constipated email. Abe tried but got frustrated as his father got annoyed. Although his son was very amused by Adam's new found hobby of speaking technological gibberish. It even lead to him buying Henry one of those flat computers. The thin ones without the lettered buttons.

Although it was a gift for Henry, Abe used it. Joining Adam in his babel.

Henry sighed as he made his way to the offices with his coffee mug, his favoured tea cup abandoned at this late hour. He would collect the report himself.

The doctor looked over to Detective Hanson's desk, he had his head in his hands, with Jo stood next to him.

"Is something the matter?" Henry asked as he approached.

"Danny is pregnant," the man's voice was muffled by his hands.

"His girlfriend," Jo continued.

Henry blinked then smiled brightly. "Congratulations are in order."

"We don't even live together," Hanson dropped his head to the wood with a heavy thump. "I never thought of having kid. And just like this, out of the blue.

"The best events are rarely planned," the doctor commented.

Jo placed a hand to his shoulder. "After our shift we should out out. Have a few drinks?"

Hanson pointed a finger to his partner without raising his head. "That. Is a plan. You coming, doc?"

"Yes."

The detective lifted his eyes at that, as did the Jo. It was not often that Henry met them outside of work, and they had only drank together once before.

Hanson smiled meekly. "This is a good plan."


 

It had been a terrible plan, then again, all drunken nights out were, the following morning.

Hanson thanked his long since thought about faith in divine intervention, that they had agreed upon food. And he vaguely recalled Abe telling him to drink a large glass of water as he was shown to the very comfy leather sofa. Work was not going to be fun but the lack of a headache was a Godsend. His body and mind felt well rested, he had really needed that night out to set his head straight.

Now he just had to do something about this full bladder he was sleeping on.

"It has to be a dagger. The attacked hit with force but the blade did not go all the way through."

That was Henry.

"If its shorter than a sword, it's a dagger?" There was a pause. "You watch too many old movies, Henry."

That voice was new, and it was not distorted like a phone call.

Hanson opened his eyes but could not see the two men chattering, they sounded too far away at any rate.

"Never mind. That is too far ahead for you. What about a tapestry?"

"If you are quite finished..."

"It could a number of knifes from many different counties, and points in time. Was there anything in the wound?"

"No. But I could take a further look at the body."

"It could narrow down the search. Just knowing that it is not made of steel will help."

Hanson blinked for a few seconds before he remember Lucas mentioning something before. Steel did not leave trace evidence. If they were living in an age were people stabbed each other with different metals, flaking weapons, maybe finding the suspects would be a lot easier. Damn food safety standards.

"Blades are an intimate weapon. They follow a tradition. With the right knowledge, the weapon will be simple to find."

Henry hummed a laugh. "It seems almost fitting really. How you..."

"History states that children were trained from a young age to use a blade. To be a worrier may have been a dream they hoped to reach. Nostalgia breeds fascination. All the same, I would not recommend being stabbed in the gut."

Hanson frowned. This conversation was getting confusing, like there was a whole other part of the conversation he was missing. He should really stop ease dropping. And still needed to pee.

He got up and went to the bathroom, when he returned he went to the kitchen. The stranger was not in sight. Maybe it was a phone call. Either way, Henry was a good guy, had been a good friend last night, and was even going as far as to offer him a cooked breakfast. The detective did not push the subject when Henry dismissed it, rather badly. The man was not good at lying.