Chapter Text
Sam leaned against the wall, trying to stay out of sight. The suspect was in this building, armed. And they have shown, that they aren't afraid to shoot on sight. How did it get this far? Carefully, his steps carried him towards the corner of the wall he was leaning against. There he was. A middle aged man. Greying hair, dark coat over a wool sweater and a gun laying next to them on the floor. Some psycho who had killed his parents and was now holed up in this building. Run-down, leaky and not at all sheltered by the elements. A depressing place. Sam and his partner had split up. Easier to keep the suspect from escaping like that.
Peeking around the corner, Sam saw them arrive at the same room as him. Barely, their head was visible, as well as the barrel of the gun they were holding. Shuffling could be heard in the room, as the suspect dug their nails into the floorboards, trying to get a grip on them an to pull them off. The hand of Sam's partner came up. A countdown. Three. Two. One.
"Go!", they yelled.
Stomping foodsteps, loud screaming, a scuffle and then. Bang! One person slumped onto the floor. Sam saw red. Pure rage and hatred filled his veins, when he tackled the man to the ground and planted his barrel against their head, pulling the trigger without hesitation.
Sam looked at his wife on the floor. Short steps. Ragged breathing. Her corpse in his arms. A puddle of blood formed underneath them, as the red liquid gushed from a bullet wound in her neck. Her eyes were already blank. Dead. Gone.
----------------------------------
Sam woke up with a start. Sweat dripped from his forehead and ran down his cheeks. Again, that dream. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a few deep breaths. Reality caught up to Sam, slowly but surely. He was safe in his bed. Today was saturday. Work was on the agenda. And tomorrow he had a day off. On Sam's bedside table his phone vibrated and showed the time. 6:30 AM. 'Take your meds.' was shown in a notification from his calendar app. After a sigh, he got up and made his way into the bathroom.
The past few days hadn't been eventful. The trip to see what lock the key opened had been postponed until after the interview, considering the amount of paperwork they had to sift through. Most of his and Deadman's time was spent at the station, reading through the reports of the victim. A nice change of pace, considering the days even before he got transferred were hectic. Deadman made sure they still took breaks and still insisted on having lunch together. Sam had to admit it felt nice to have this routine. The past two days he had insisted on paying, so he wondered if his partner would be the one to pay and suggest a place to eat at today. While he was brushing his teeth, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out and read the message, as his other hand kept brushing.
D: Have you picked a movie yet?
Deadman had been really excited about the prospect of them watching movies together, which Sam had found both absolutely adorable, but also a little concerning. He wasn't exactly the most entertaining person to hang out with and movies don't exactly lead to a lot of talking. An old post he had read surfaced in his mind, that said something along the lines of 'Don't take your first date to the movies! Do something interesting!', but it's not like this was in any way, shape or form similar to that. They were just colleagues! Hanging out! He spat the toothpaste into the sink, rinsed out his mouth and toothbrush and then leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom with his phone still in hand.
S: didnt think about it much. any you'd prefer?
Almost immediately his phone buzzed again.
D: I already gave you my three picks!
S: then whats the oldest one. show me a classic.
D: Let's do "Rec" then! Spanish movie with Zombies. You'll get a kick out of it!
Sam chuckled. It's nice that Deadman considered his preferences.
S: wow zombies thought this was gonna be scary and not a popcorn flick
D: You'll eat your words, but I'll let you cling to me if you get too scared. :P
Sam smiled down at his phone. He was excited for tomorrow. Seeing Deadman in an environment that wasn't as heavy as their workplace and the case they were working on sounded like a really good idea.
After a short breakfast, a cigarette and a cup of coffee, Sam drove to work. The days were getting shorter and shorter now that november was approaching. Painted in blue hues, office buildings, streetlights and apartment buildings passed by, as Sam drove through the streets. He was hoping for a rather uneventful day. If he had to be honest, after how heavy his first few days at the precinct were, this would be the perfect reward. Peace and quiet leading into the weekend.
Entering the building he was greeted by Fragile, signing some forms at the front desk.
"Good morning, Sam. I trust your first few days went well? Getting along with your partner?"
"No problems here." He fished out his communicator and turned it on. "Any news for me in particular?"
The menu of Fragile's own communicator flickered in the air, as she read through some text on it.
"Monaghan replied to the call in for questioning. He'll be here at 2PM. I'll tell someone to bring him down to you guys."
So much for uneventful.
"You know where to find us."
He took a few steps toward the office area, before Fragile spoke up again.
"If you're wondering about what admin says about your status...we haven't heard anything negative."
He didn't want to look her in the eye right now.
"What makes you say that?"
"I...saw your file. Or rather I was told to read it in preparation for your arrival at the station before this week started. If you ask me, admin was being heartless to you."
Peace and quiet is what he wanted.
"It is what it is. Thanks for the update."
Cold air hit Sam's face as he opened the door leading down into the morgue. He'd gotten used to it, even if he would have preferred a warmer place to work at in winter. Summers could be quite nice down here though. You win some and you lose some. Shuffling and the rustling of paper came from Deadman's office. The door was open, so Sam walked up to it, knocked on the glass and leaned against the doorframe. Deadman was currently in the process of rolling from one file cabinet to the next, as he turned his head to look at his visitor.
"Oh! Good morning, partner."
"Be careful, admin might want you to get a license for that chair if you roll around at speeds like that."
"What a comedian you are.", Deadman said in a deadpan voice, scanning the pages he was holding.
Smirking, Sam pulled up the chair usually reserved for visitors and sat down.
"Anything new?"
Deadman put the papers down, took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Clearly he was frustrated.
"Not really. I read through the summary you gave me. It seems all just like rambling. Ideas, hypotheses. I have some ideas, but we'll have to wait what Monaghan tells us."
Sam could clearly see eyebags forming and even the whites of his eyes were starting to become bloodshot. The messages he received earlier today were chipper and happy, but clearly Deadman was thinking about something, that cost him sleep.
"2 P.M. is when he should be here. Tell me 'bout your ideas." Deadman looked at him with tired eyes. "You ain't workin' alone anymore. Let me do some thinkin' for ya."
A sigh escaped his partner's lips and he scratched his greying beard.
"Alright." A brown folder landed in front of Sam labeled 'Illusor' "I compiled all of the documents related to chiral research in an industrial context within here. Multiple companies wanted to buy chiral refinement technologies our guy has worked on. Funnily enough a lot of these companies have worked on tools, including our chiral gadgets. But here is the big thing." The drawer of Deadman's desk opened and he produced a business card and a book. The card read "Bernhardt Wilmer - Tetralis - Head of production". "Tetralis on the surface is a clean company. Supplies a lot of labs with specialized parts for any of the machinery they used. But-" Another way thinner folder landed in front of Sam. Reaching over the table, Deadman opened it with one hand. A long report greeted Sam's eyes on the first page. "They are an arms supplier. More precisely, they are specialized in prototyping chiral weaponry."
Images on the report, as well as charts comparing older and newer models showed rifles with tracking bullets, grenades that could rapidly age whatever is caught in their blast radius and much more.
"Where did you get this info? This seems highly classified."
The book got pushed into Sam's hands. It was surprisingly light. Opening it up, a flash drive revealed itself.
"Heartman and I worked on this all night. We have the info now, we just need to connect it to something. This is basically a motive, Sam!"
It was obvious that Deadman was proud of this find, but Sam could see just how tired he was.
"This is...insane work. Can't imagine how it must've felt to find this." Sam got up from his chair and walked over to Deadman. His hand landed on his shoulder, earning him a confused look. "You look exhausted, though."
"I'll be fine. I just gotta hear what-"
"No you won't. Rest." It probably came out a lot harsher, than he intended, but he won't let Deadman neglect himself for his job.
"Sam. Please, I'm so close to a breakthrough."
The hand on Deadman's shoulder tightened its grip.
"You got us close to the breakthrough. Let me help. I'll do the questioning. It'll be recorded and you can listen to it later. Trust me. Please?"
Deadman's shoulders slumped and he closed his eyes while taking a deep breath.
"I look like a corpse, huh?"
"You look like shit. I mean that in the nicest way possible."
Sam handed his partner his glasses, which he accepted. Deadman let out a small chuckle, while putting them back on.
"Get me when the questioning's over."
"Yeah, yeah. Sleep."
As Deadman walked out of the office Sam looked over his shoulder. Should he say it?
"You look good without your glasses, though."
He could hear his partner snort, before his footsteps got quieter and quieter.
After collecting all the new info and carrying them into his own office, Sam got to work. He read through most of the reports Deadman and Heartman had compiled, which he had to admit were very impressive work for only one entire night of research. It linked Wittson to Tetralis, showed their exchanges and even how much money flowed between them. Wittson was working for one company, while selling out what he researched to another. But how does this connect to Illusor at all? On the last page of the report Deadman had noted down some minor details, including the password that hid the files of the flashdrive. 'Cronos'. Sam leaned back in his chair, tapping his finger onto the paper. Cronos. Illusor.
"What is it with these fuckin' names?"
Cronos was latin. Relating to some god of time. He pulled out his phone and searched for the phrase 'illusor noun origin'. It was also latin.
"Mockery.", he mumbled out loud.
But what could it relate to? Cronos being a god of time had at least some kind of relation to chiralium. It interacted with time in a weird way. The gadgets as well as some of the military plans showed that very clearly. So was illusor related to that? Was the name a message to the public or perhaps to something else entirely? Maybe Tetralis or maybe chiralium research. A loud ringing brought Sam back into the present and he fished out his communicator. The front desk was calling.
"Detective Bridges."
"Monaghan is here. Should I bring him down?"
Had he really been busy with reading these reports for multiple hours now?
"Nah. I'll be there in a sec."
The office was more lively now. Working down in the morgue made Sam forget just how busy it could get at the station. People were oftentimes jogging from one thing to the next and civilians were also walking around, considering any questioning or other casework that involved them was also done up here. Approaching the front desk he was greeted by the lady usually sitting at the front desk, who had a man standing next to her. He had dark blonde hair and sharp facial features. Heavy eyeliner made him look a lot more tired than he probably was. One of his hands, which he had in the pockets of his brown leather jacket stretched out towards Sam. He chose to ignore it.
"Monaghan I assume? My name's detective Bridges. I'll be doing your questioning today." Sam nodded towards the lady next to Monaghan, signaling her that he'll take it from here. The man did nothing but smirk and nod his head at Sam in a greeting, now that his handshake had been rejected. While walking towards the interrogation room Sam's guest spoke up.
"Surprised to see that it's just you."
"What makes you say that?", Sam replied in a deadpan voice.
"The girl that let you into my office said it was you and some other fat dude. Where's he?"
Fuck this guy.
"I don't see how it's any of your concern."
"Ouch, you're cold. I like that though."
If it weren't for his professionalism deciding to actually show up for once, Sam would've started a fistfight by now.
"Let's just get this over with. I wanna do this just as little as you do and the more you cooperate, the less we'll have to deal with each other."
There was a glint in the man's eye, but Sam chose to ignore it. For now at least.
In the interrogation room only a table and two chairs were present. Its white walls were making it as univiting and sterile as possible. Sam had never gotten used to this vibe. It made him uncomfortable. Usually another officer would have to stand guard for questioning, however due to there being no perceived threat emitting from a civilian, Sam could do the questioning alone. A click later the recording of the interview began.
"Alright," he began after sitting down in front of the scientist "name, occupation."
"Higgs Monaghan. Scientist and Researcher in the field of chiral usage."
"Mr. Wittson was your colleague. How was your relationship?"
"We were just lab partners. Lots of what he worked on, he preferred to keep under wraps. I heard him mutter to himself often though. Kinda creepy."
Sam nodded and made a few notes in his own personal notebook.
"What is your personal stance on chiral usage, Mr. Monaghan?"
"What a jump in subject. May I ask why?"
"It's related to the case. Just answer the question."
Higgs leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. His mouth was pressed into a thin line and he tapped his foot a few times.
"I think a lot of it is bullshit."
All of Sam's willpower had to hold him back from visibly reacting to this statement. This was going to be interesting.
"What makes you say that?"
"We get offered lots of money for what we do, detective. Your fancy little toys, were also developed by people just like me. Public statements however-" he sat up in his chair, his arms now resting against the table as his hands clasped together "they want everyone to believe we work on shit to make everyone's lives better. You know how humans are, detective. We discover something. We make it into a weapon. The way the big corps speak to the public, it's all a mockery really."
Sam stopped writing and tried his hardest not to let his face betray his reaction. There it was again.
"Interesting perspective." Him and Deadman will have to keep an eye on this guy. "Coming back to your statement of being offered money, is there anyone you can reveal to have offered you money for your research?"
The smirk appeared on Monaghan's face again.
"Now, now. I thought this was about Mr. Wittson and not about me. But I think you can imagine who, detective. You don't strike me as the dumb type."
Speaking to this guy was infuriating.
"Alright then, let's get back to the case itself then. Where were you on the evening of the 29th of october, precisely between 11pm and 1am?"
"Clubbing."
Sam couldn't hold back a snort. Of course there was a possibility, this case would lead them into a nightclub.
"What? Does that sound so otherwordly?"
"No, continue. Which club? Anyone who can confirm you were there?"
Higgs crossed his arms again. Sam noticed, he always did that when he thought about his reply.
"Club Strand, out in industrial. Went alone and sorry to tell you, but the only person who might remember me is the girl I hooked up with."
"Un...derstood."
"Speaking of, did you know Strand is also the german word for "Beach"? Language is some weird stuff."
He wasn't gonna get anything else interesting out of this guy.
"You don't say." Sam made a few more notes. Alright one last question. "Anything else of note? Events? Missing items that could be linked to your colleague?"
"Now that you mention it...he kept a puzzlebox on his desk. It's gone now. Wonder where it went. Maybe one of the guys cleaning up swiped it."
'Knew about the box.', Sam wrote down into his notebook.
"I think this concludes the questioning. Thank you for being so...open."
"Well that was much easier than I thought, detective."
He hated the smile on Higgs' face. Something about the man just gave him chills and made him want to bolt out of the room.
"You're not a suspect," 'yet' Sam added mentally, "we have no reason to make this harder."
Enthusiastically, Higgs got up from the chair and walked over to the door. Sam watched him like a hawk. There was one last question burning at the tip of his tongue. Would it seem unprofessional?
"If you would answer one last question, Mr. Monaghan, I would be very grateful."
With one hand on the handle, he looked over his shoulder.
"And what might that be?"
"You don't seem very distraught over your colleague's death. Why?"
Sam was risking a possible penalty here, but he was here to solve a case.
"I am of the firm believe that we all have skeletons in our closet. Edward was probably no different. Whenever we get uncomfortable and want to avoid a subject, we tend to bullshit our way through it. Make a fool of the others. Edward was good at that. Guy like him? He shouldn't be mourned."
Silence stretched through the interrogation room. The only sound was the whirring of the ancient recorder's holodisplay and the muffled noises of the hustle and bustle of the station hard at work.
"You do realize this has a chance to get you on our list of potential suspects."
"And I meant every word I said, detective."
The door swung open and closed with a thud, leaving behind a confused and equally concerned Sam.
Dim light greeted Sam's eyes, as he entered the rest area. Yellow LEDs were placed along the ground, illuminating the dark floor. He walked past the empty common area, which had a few vending machine selling drinks, snacks and even microwave meals, a small kitchenette and a table with some chairs, into the hallway where the actual rooms where located. Earlier Deadman sent him a message on his communicator, telling Sam that he was resting in room 04 and that he should come over after the interview. "I left the door unlocked, so just knock and then come in.", the message had said at the end. Two knocks later, he opened the door.
"Deadman?"
Soft snoring, could be heard from the bed. The yellow lights present in the hallway had been replaced with dim red ones for this room, which emitted a warm glow and let Sam see just a bit in the otherwise pitch black room.
"Hey, Deadman? Interrogation's over. Came to wake ya up."
The sleeping person on the bed took a deep breath and then sat up slowly and groggily.
"Sam?"
Deadman was rubbing his face. His glasses were on the bedside table and the blanket slipped off his chest, exposing a partially unbuttoned shirt and gave Sam a glimpse at the hairy chest of his partner. The amount of willpower Sam had to bring to the table today made him slowly lose his mind. Don't look. Don't look.
"Yeah. 'S me."
Without a word Deadman shuffled a bit to the side and patted the bed next to him.
"Sit down. Let me listen."
Immediately in work mode again. Sam would never admit that he was just a tad disappointed. He placed the recorder on the bed between them and hit play on the too bright holodisplay. The recording crackled to life and Sam as well as Higgs' voices filled the silent room. While listening, Sam couldn't help but watch his partner's sleepy form. The way he swayed slightly, still heavy with sleep in his bones. The way his eyes fluttered closed every now and then and he yawned a few times. And of course he couldn't ignore his handsome face without his glasses. Fuck, he looked good. Mentally he slapped himself for getting into this territory, but he deserved this. Even if only for a little bit. It would be so nice to reach out, cup his face, push him back onto the bed-
"Hmm, interesting."
"Huh? What?"
Deadman fell back onto the bed, his arm covering his eyes, as he still was in the limbo between asleep and awake. Sam looked at him with wide eyes, caught thinking about things that had clearly nothing to do with work at all.
"Industrial. Cross reference the key data with Strand's address. If it matches, we hit the bullseye."
Harsh light flooded the room while Sam tapped away at his own communicator and sent in the request for cross referencing, since the data was still with forensics. He wasn't surprised about the immediate reply of the automated mail, telling him that he'll have to wait until after the weekend. Heartman did work with Deadman throughout the entire night, so it was only natural for him to be unavailable right now.
"Have to wait 'till monday for the data. Back into limbo we go."
A grunt came from Deadman, followed by a few seconds of silence before he patted the bed again.
"Lay down a bit. Talk to me."
Sam's mind short circuited. This went from zero to hundred really quick. He blinked a few times, looking directly at Deadman's covered face. Should he? Awkwardly Sam shuffled into position, his legs hung off the edge of the bed, since he didn't want to get the sheets dirty with his shoes. He stared at the ceiling, not knowing what to say. What was he feeling now towards Deadman? Clearly he had imagined...things between them. But what did he want? The comfort was nice. He felt understood. But was Deadman just being nice? What was he feeling? What was he after? Maybe his brain was just latching onto the comfort? Yeah! That's what it must be! He was just compensating for the things he had been through for the last few months. Nothing more, nothing less.
"You're thinking so hard I can practically hear it, Sam." The older man's hand came up to his mouth, covering it while he yawned again. "Is this awkward for you?"
"Yeah. Don't hate it though."
Deadman let out a low laugh. His arm was now behind his head, propping it up.
"Did you consider dating anyone again?"
Glass just shattered in Sam's head. Any effort of calming down just went out the window.
"Not really. Was too busy being miserable."
"Was? You're still not done with that." He gave Sam a playful, weak shove against his shoulder, clearly meant as a light-hearted gesture. "But I'm being serious when I say you won't get any happier like that."
"Gee, thanks mom."
"You know what I mean!"
Another playful shove and both of them chuckled a bit.
"Why ya askin'?"
Sam was genuinely curious. He wanted to see what Deadman thought. Maybe there was also a bit of hope. Just maybe.
"I dunno. Just...I think any man or woman, that has the willpower to get past your frosty exterior, would be happy to have you. Be it as a friend or partner." Slowly, his colleague's head turned. The dim light illuminated half of his face. A smirk was present and his eyes were still heavy with sleep. Sam swallowed hard. Fuck. Partners. Compensation. Nothing more, nothing less.
"I'm still here, after all.", he said with a soft voice.
Deadman's smirk turned into a genuine smile. Every muscle in his face was contoured by the shadows contrasting against the red light emitting from the floor LEDs. Almost as if on instinct, Sam started leaning forward. His eyes flicked down to Deadman's lips and then up to his eyes. His slight smile never faded while the distance between them got smaller and smaller. A dagger was in Sam's heart. It hurt and felt uncomfortable, but also made him feel alive with something similar to the pain of what he had felt when his late wife laid in his arms. Was this wrong? His lips parted and he could feel Deadman's own breath ghosting against his cheek. Maybe just this onc-
Loudly Sam's communicator rang and immediately both of them pulled back. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, Sam pulled out the device and took the call.
"Sam, it's Fragile. Die-Hardman has tasked me with delivering the evaluation of your first week. Is now a good time to talk?"
A look over his shoulder showed him, that Deadman was putting on his shoes and was getting ready to get back to work. What a moodkiller this was.
"Guess so. You want me to come up and talk about it in person?"
"Oh no, no. It's fine if we do it in a call. Let's keep it short and sweet. There have been no issues. We have also received word, that you have been hard at work with the case and your efforts of fitting in are also being seen. We do not see any reason to report negatively towards admin. And that ties into what is being done next. Are you fine with your place here? Do you want to keep working with us?"
This felt like a crossroads. Before Sam stood an old wodden sign with two arrows. One points to the left, the other to the right. Funnily enough one of the directions feels desaturated. Gray almost. The communicator was pressed against his cheek and he looked down at his hand. Where is his ring used to be there was a spot, clearly brighter than the rest of his skin. Chewing on his bottom lip he inhaled and then exhaled.
"I wanna stay here."
Behind him Deadman stopped, however Sam couldn't get himself to look over his shoulder.
"Great! I'll get everything sorted then. Should be done by monday and you'll just have to sign a form. After that you'll be officially staying with us. Nothing will really change, but I can imagine it's nice to be more certain about your place here in the future."
"Heh, guess so."
"You'll be getting mail from me later then. Take care."
She sounded happy.
"You too."
The call ended and Sam put away the device again. Absentmindedly, he traced along the space where his wedding ring used to sit. Discolored, gray almost. Deadman's hand landed on his shoulder, making him jump. He didn't say anything and instead just looked down towards Sam. The red light reflected off of the rim of Deadman's glasses, yet behind them his blue eyes were looking at him with genuine happiness. Without even thinking about it, Sam's hand came up to lay on top of his partner's. This direction was the correct one.
The caseboard loomed over them, depicting a web of red threads, pictures and data sheets. No sane person could make sense of this mess. In a steady rhythm, Deadman's foot tapped on the floor, while Sam leaned against a nearby table. His own fingers drummed on the wood, almost in sync with his partner's own rhythm and he narrowed his eyes. Neither of them said a word, just taking in the complex net in from them. A few moments later, Sam spoke up.
"This sucks."
"Yes it does.", Deadman sighed, scratching his beard.
"We've gone over this shit three times now. Higgs is the only suspect so far."
"But we can't be too sure. What if we missed something?"
"He knew about the box and he mentioned a club out in industrial. Also we went over the whole latin thing."
"Fair point, coincidence and also coincidence."
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Not like we got too many options right now. All this waiting fucking blows." He pushed away from the table and pointed at the printed out transcript of the questioning he did just a few hours prior. "He was such a smug asshole too. There is no way he doesn't have skeletons in his closet."
"Very professional, Sam."
Agitated, Sam threw his hands up into the air. Just as he was about to say something, both Sam and Deadman's communicator's pinged at the same time. A new message, telling them a documented has been added to their case files.
"You gotta be shittin' me..."
Another flyer popped up on the holodisplay. It had the same design as the other one, but this time with a bunch of cartoony newspapers and skulls on it. A caricature of a businessman hanging off a pole took up most of the space and a message was written below it. 'One down - three to go - illusor'.
"A threat."
Sam's deadpan voice was the first thing to pierce through the quiet.
"And we have no idea who the next target will be. Great."
"I'll forward it to the lab. They're the only ones officially involved so far. If they got any high profile researchers, they deserve protection."
Sitting down on the table, Sam drafted up a mail. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Deadman check his watch, before he turned to Sam.
"We can wrap up after you're done. No new bodies came in from other cases and we're at a standstill. As frustrating as it is, let's just go home."
He hummed in agreement, absentmindedly. They had been hard at work and there was nothing else they could do right now.
"Anything you want me to get for tomorrow?", Sam changed the topic while writing the last bit of the mail.
"Depends. You wanna order something or maybe cook for me?"
Deadman waggled his eyebrows at him.
"Don't push your luck.", he replied with a laugh. "But...I coooould be persuaded." The message got sent and the holodisplay faded. "If you wanna bring some drinks and maybe more than one movie, I'll cook ya somethin' real good. I make a mean lasagna, ya know. And learned how to bake a while ago."
"You drive a hard bargain, detective. But I think my budget will allow that. After all I wouldn't want to miss that."
When Sam got to his bike it had already gotten dark and the temparatures dropped significantly. Mid-november. Dark and dreary. Rain. All things Sam wasn't too fond of. Droplets of rain hit his jacket and helmet, as he drove through the streets on his way to the nearest grocery store. Soon it would be snowing. Will he be spending christmas and new years alone this year? It felt weird to build connections to people again. Even while working together with Lucy, his colleagues always were just fleeting faces in the crowd. His wife was the social butterfly, that dragged him along to summer parties with friends or nudged him in the side, whenever he'd gotten too passive in convos with their mutual friends. However, now that was his own responsibility. Deadman was the first person he'd warmed up to in a long time and he would be lying if he wasn't at least a little bit proud, that he built this friendship by himself. The brike came to a stand in the store parking lot and Sam grabbed the backpack he kept in its storage. Inside he went directly to the ingredients he would be needing for tomorrow. He hadn't gotten the chance to really grocery shop, always just picking up the necessities and leaving the rest for another day, so he grabbed everything for the lasagna and the brownies he wanted to make. It wasn't anything impressive, though it being a homemade meal made with love is what mattered the most. Yet again his mind did a double take at the word 'love'. He thought back to them in bed earlier. Them almost kissing. Deadman's smile. It made Sam stop dead in his tracks. He had to face it. Something...was starting to develop. If not between them, then at least in Sam's own feelings. Part of him felt bad. Like all the nice gestures, their banter and even the few moments they had been close were just a charade or him being manipulative towards Deadman. But he had to be honest. It felt so, so nice to feel excitement again. With a filled backpack he arrived at his motorcycle again. A vibration in Sam's pocket made him fish out his phone. Speak of the devil. The message was partly obscured by a few raindrops that landed on the screen.
D: I picked three movies and also got us a nice bottle of whiskey to share. :)
Without a reply, the device slipped into his pocket again and he drove out of the parking lot. This was going to be a long night.
Back in his apartment Sam put the groceries away. Ingredients, snacks and yes he even picked up some random pieces of decor he saw on sale, just to make his apartment more inviting. Immediately he put on some music and got to cleaning. He hadn't dusted the place in a while and a few boxes were still left over from his move into this new place. Was he trying to impress Deadman? Maybe a little bit. An hour, maybe two went by when his phone buzzed in his pocket again.
D: I'll be coming over at around 4pm tomorrow. Should give us plenty of time to eat. Also, don't overthink it Sam.
Read like a book. Again. He reacted to Deadman's message with a thumbs up emoji and threw his phone onto the sofa. After dusting the apartment, Sam got ready to take a shower, still lost in thought. Coming to terms with his crush on his coworker made his brain work on overtime. The warm water ran down his body, grounding him and giving him a sense of comfort. A headache was starting to build and Sam's shoulders were tense, so the heat of the liquid running down his back was a welcome source of relaxation. Over and over the past few days played on repeat in his thoughts. Their first meeting, every conversation they had. He had built such a strong emotional connection with this man. All in the manner of a few days. Sam's body remembered Deadman's touch. Sparks of electricity, eminating from his shoulder, his arm, wherever Deadman had touched him for comfort and to ground him, yet they danced along every inch of his skin. His hand ran along his chest, down to his now hardening cock, remembering them in bed next to each other again. In a steady rhythm he jerked himself off, lost in the sensations he felt back then. Deadman's breath ghosting across his cheek, how would it feel like over other parts of his body? Their lips almost touching, how he wanted to close the distance and finally get out of this purgatory of need and excitement. Moaning he pressed the back of his head against the cool bathroom tiles. What if they didn't stop there? Visions flash in front of his mind's eye. A kiss that turned into more, finally released from his prison of pining for his partner. Hands clawing at his back in lust and need for Sam's body. Passionately their lips clashed as Deadman thrust into him. It felt so good to finally indulge in this. Just as the person in his imagination muttered the words he wanted to hear, Sam came with a groan, stroking himself through his climax with quiet moans and heavy breathing. It took a while for Sam to come down from his high, panting and with wobbly feet. Quickly he washed himself off and got out of the shower.
Sleep came easier to him that night. Sam's thoughts were less jumbled, quieter. Phantom's of the dead were finally staying away. Morning came quickly and so did their meetup. He had lots of prep to do, so he got to work on their meal early. Soft tunes played and filled the apartment. Time went by quickly as Sauce bubbled in a pot, Sam prepped the batter for the brownies he was going to make and assembled the lasagna. Peace and quiet. Just as the lasagna went into the oven, Sam's phone buzzed in his pocket.
D: I'll be here in 5. Hope you've been hard at work. ;)
S: keep that cocky attitude and you'll only get the leftovers on monday
D: :(
S: :)
Quickly, Sam went into his bedroom to put on a new pair of clothes, some deodorant and also brushed his hair. Immediately, he then ruffled through his hair again, not wanting to make it too obvious that he freshened up specifically for his partner's arrivial.
"Keep it casual.", he said to himself in the mirror. He added a wink to that as well, which then only made him feel like an idiot. Before he could mess with his hair even more, the doorbell rang. Behind it stood Deadman, dressed in an unbuttoned green and black flannel, a gray shirt and a pair of jeans. In his right hand he carried a bag and a selection of movies in the other.
"Well hello there, detective. May I enter your domain?"
"Pff. Shut up and just come in. Leave your shoes at the door."
Sam grabbed the bag from Deadman and went to put it down on the kitchen table.
"Nice place. Cozy."
"Well, you comin' over gave me a reason to finally give a shit about makin' it presentable."
A chuckle came from the other man, now leaning against the wall connecting the kitchen and the living room. Sam checked on their food and then leaned against the counter. A few more minutes then it should be ready. Now, how to break the ice? This was...different. No work stuff to distract them, no messages or other interruptions.
"What did ya bring?"
The bag rustled as Sam went to open it up and reveal the contents.
"Just some whiskey and cola to mix it with. Figured you'd wanna mix it and not get entirely drunk."
Deadman did have a fair point. Plus, Sam knew that his lips got loose while drunk. He wouldn't want to embarrass himself. After taking them out of the bag, he placed the three bottles also on the kitchen counter. They'd be there for later.
"What made you invite me?"
"Little late to ask now."
Deadman crossed his arms and tilted his head.
"I'm just curious is all."
Sometimes talking to Deadman felt like doing skillchecks in an RPG. One low roll of the dice and suddenly Sam would say something really embarrassing.
"You made the offer, you're my partner. Felt a little lonely maybe."
A noise of acknowledgement came from behind Sam's shoulder. Just as he was about to speak up again, the timer he forgot he had set beeped. Quickly he grabbed the food out of the oven and set the temperature again, before he placed the brownies inside. Deadman's head peeked in from over his shoulder.
"Looks good."
"Tastes good too."
Deadman pulled out one of the chairs at the table and sat down with a sigh. After a few moments, Sam came over to the table, two plates of food in hand.
"Well then, dig in.", he said after sitting down.
"Thank you. For the food and the invitation.", Deadman replied with a small smile and grabbed a fork.
Sam dug into his own food, but he watched Deadman out of the corner of his eye. His partner chewed the bite he just took and then looked surprised.
"Wow, this is actually fantastic! Where'd you learn to cook?"
"Parents weren't home often, while I was still going to school. Had to learn early. Lucy also didn't cook much, so I kinda just...kept the habit." He looked a little sad again, but only for a moment. "Haven't really had the time or energy to cook much since the whole "bouncing from one P.D. to the next" thing started. So this is kinda my first real meal in this place."
Taking a few bites, Deadman listened to Sam, nodding every few sentences.
"I'm happy to share it with you then."
Yet again, Deadman's smile made Sam's heart melt. The fact that he managed to impress his partner with his cooking made him proud. Most of the meal was spent with Deadman rambling on about a few hobbies he had picked up himself and short little stories from both of them, relating to whatever it was that came up in conversation. In the middle of Deadman's next sentence the timer beeped again, which prompted Sam to usher him into the living room, while he took the baked goods out and left them to cool a bit.
"So what do you wanna start with?"
Deadman sunk into the sofa and held his hand out to the selection of movies currently displayed on the small table in front of him. It was admirable, that Deadman actually owned these as physical media, considering it had become harder and harder to come by physical copies of things. Some of the CDs in his collection cost more than he was willing to admit. He picked up the three cases and scanned the backs of them.
"What's the scariest? Feel like the scare factor's gonna go down once we start gettin' alcohol into our system.", Sam said with his eyes still on the back of a case labeled "The Descent".
Pushing up his glasses, Deadman thought about it for a moment.
"Well...'The Descent' takes a while to get going but it gets pretty scary a bit into the film. I brought 'Ringu' as a classic. And we did talk about 'Rec', but I'll be honest compared to those two, that is a popcorn flick."
"Let's do it in that order then." Sam put the cases back down on the table. "Start with the slowest. Plus it's getting darker, so just use it as a moodsetter or somethin'."
A mischievous glint appeared in Deadman eyes.
"Oh, what kind of mood are you trying to get me into, detective?"
Sam rolled his eyes and playfully poked him in his cheek.
"Get your mind out of the gutter, dude."
A few minutes later, Sam now sat next to Deadman on the sofa, while the beginning of the first movie played out. it was a bit awkward for him. Trying to figure out how to behave, how close he should be to Deadman. Yet again his head didn't really turn off. Of course, Deadman would see this as something casual and not think much to himself, but Sam couldn't help but glance at him every few minutes. He was still just sitting there, with his eyes glued to the screen. Every now and then he'd enthusiastically point something out in the movie or tell Sam a behind the scenes fact of the production and filming process. The movie itself was a slow burn, most of the first half of it was spent following a group of people exploring a cavesystem. Some people would probably call it boring, but he trusted Deadman to have picked this one for a reason. Suddenly he felt something behind his head as he was about to lean back into the cushions. Glancing over at Deadman, he saw the other man's arm laid across the backrest of the sofa. This was the first movie out of three for tonight and he already felt like combusting on the spot. Trying to act cool, he just crossed his arms and tried to calm his heart, which had just skipped a beat. 'Stop acting like a high schooler, dude.', he chastised himself in his mind. A few moments later Deadman leaned in closer.
"Hope you're ready for the good part.", he said in a low voice. Yet again, it took every bit of Sam's willpower to not visibly react to him. Thankfully it didn't take long for the movie to pick up the pace, leading the group from one bloody encounter to the next.
A short while later the movie ended and Sam took that as his signal to finally get out of his seat and get some much needed mental reprieve.
"I'll get us some of the brownies. Should be cooled down by now."
He turned one of the smaller lamps standing in the living room on his way out. In the kitchen, he grabbed two plates and got to work cutting each of them two slices, as Deadman yet again spoke up from behind him.
"You can't just leave me hanging! Come on give me your impressions!"
Sam looked over his shoulder. Crossing his arms, his partner looked at him with an excited expression. He couldn't help but smirk, clearly amused by Deadman's enthusiasm.
"Took a while to get goin'. Wait paid off though."
A wide smile formed on Deadman's face and Sam could practically see the stars in his eyes. It was adorable how happy he was about Sam enjoying one of his own interests.
"I wasn't too sure that you'd like it, because of how slow it is but I am happy you do! Wasn't the scene that started off the entire second act fantastically shot?"
Deadman was such a different person in a private setting, but Sam didn't hate it. He could get used to this in fact.
"Sure was. Good movie choice."
He turned around with the two plates in hand, handing one to his partner, before leaning back against the counter and taking a bite of his own baked good. Deadman looked at his dessert and blinked a few times and then scooped some up on his fork.
"You know I didn't poison it, stop lookin' at it like it's gonna catch on fire."
"Sorry it's just...still weird to see the more private side to you. Feels almost like a privilege."
Sam wanted to come up with a snarky reply, mainly to defuse some of the weird tension that had built from that statement, but he stopped himself. He chewed the bite he had taken, mulling his next words over carefully.
"I mean, 's cause I want ya to see it."
It was now Deadman's turn to look at him with surprise in his eyes.
"I'm glad that's what you want." A few quiet moments later he spoke up again. "Especially if it means I'll get to have more stuff like this."
Sam rolled his eyes, yet couldn't contain his grin.
"Way to ruin the moment, man."
In the living room again both of them sat on the sofa again. Sam had poured each of them a drink, before they started up the second movie. Yet again, Deadman's arm was behind his head. He wondered if his partner was doing it on purpose. Maybe it was time to test the waters himself. Subtly he leaned more into it, ever so slightly shifting closer towards his partner. The old japanese movie played on in the background, yet Sam couldn't really pay attention to it. It felt like he was gravitating towards the man next to him, trying to find any excuse or opportunity to get closer. On the inside he chastised himself again. 'Like a fucking high schooler.', his inner voice said again, but he chose to ignore it. Indulge in it. You earned it. Deadman's arm now entirely slung over his shoulders interrupted his thoughts. He glanced at Deadman out of the corner of his eye, yet he was entirely focused on the screen in front of them. After a sip of his drink, he allowed himself one more move. It was his second of the night, since the movie had already been on for a while. Maybe it made him bolder. He leaned entirely against Deadman's side, his head pressed against the man's shoulder. The only reaction he got, was the arm only holding him a bit tighter. This was okay. Sam got lost in the man's body heat and the smell of him. There was this constant gnawing feeling in his gut. It wanted to tear him away from Deadman, tell him to sit on the other side of the sofa far away from his partner and sulk in shame. He should still be mourning, it would say. That part can go fuck itself for all he cared. Peace and quiet is what he wished for. A nice thing to indulge in, even for one night. He got it and he would enjoy it. Even throughout the third movie both of them barely moved, only occasionally grabbing a snack from the bag of pretzels he had put on the table or to refill their drinks, but the comfortable silence stayed. The position both of them were in was enough, at least for Sam. Deadman's body heat paired with the alcohol was making him feel tired and his eyelids were starting to feel heavy. On its own, his body started leaning into Deadman, fully embracing the warmth the other man was radiating and he was drifting off into sleep. As he started to drift off he could swear he felt Deadman's thumb stroking against his cheek affectionately. Maybe it was his imagination, maybe it was already the start of a dream, but he didn't care. And then in a quiet voice, almost a whisper he heard Deadman speak up.
"I enjoyed tonight a lot. Thank you."