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He was always on the run.
Feet pounding against hot asphalt during the summer and mind running in circles as his eyes glance around his surroundings.
A siren wails in the background and he can see the lights flashing in his peripheral vision and he knows if he turns around the cops will be right behind him.
He keeps running, he listens as his breaths become heavier and as the sirens stop and become replaced with feet pounding on the ground behind him. He glances around and there is a fence, he has to hop it.
He runs, left foot then right foot, each step pushing him farther and farther. The fence is near and he hears someone yelling behind him but he doesn’t pay attention. He puts one foot onto the fence and pushes up, reaching his hands upwards to grab the top.
Hands catch on wood and his muscles ache as he uses the last bit of his strength to pull him over. Feet hit the floor and people yell and he listens as they scramble to follow him. He runs.
Feet hit the concrete behind him, but he keeps running. He has to keep running, even as his legs begin to feel heavy and as his lungs beg for him to just breathe. He has to run, he doesn’t know what will happen if he doesn’t.
Everything aches and the footsteps behind him are getting louder and the wind is rushing around him. He isn’t sure if he can outrun them. The more he runs the more he wonders if it would be better if he just gave up.
Surrendering, it is something he has never done, but sometimes it seems so easy to just cop out then continue to run. He really wishes he could just stop running, but he was destined to run.
The wind blowing through his hair and the adrenaline rush you get from the chase. He loves it all, but he wonders what the world would look like if it wasn’t always blurred by the speed and lost to the effects of the stress that surges through his brain.
He wonders what it would be like to just slow down for a moment. His question gets answered as he is tackled to the ground.
Arms are tangled around his waist and a voice is shouting and his arms hurt from the way they hit the concrete.
“Tommy Innit. You are now under arrest,” it is Sam. Tommy knows Sam, they have grown to know each other over the years of Tommy and his running.
“Yeah yeah, you gonna tell me about my rights again too?” Tommy makes a joke of the situation but everyone involved knows that Tommy might not be able to get out of this one.
He has had a run in with the law for years now. Stealing things from major corporations or defacing property with his graffiti art have littered his childhood and the whole police station knows him by name.
This time though, he may have gone past the point of redemption in the law's eyes. He may or may not have accidentally trespassed and broke into the mayor's home. Now, he is aware it sounds bad, but he didn’t know it was the mayor’s house. He just thought it was some rich folk who wouldn’t notice a missing item or two.
Turns out they did notice because they came home to Tommy standing in the middle of their kitchen looking into their pantry. He was like a deer caught in headlights, frozen as the man and his wife scrutinized him with their glares.
He quickly remembered himself though and did what he does best. Tommy ran.
That’s how he ended up here. He ran and he jumped and he turned and he heaved for air and forced himself to run as fast as he could.
He pushed himself to the limit and his limit wasn’t good enough.
Sam helps him up off the floor, before leading him to one of the cars.
“I’m sorry Tommy, but I don’t know if I can save you here,” Sam is frowning and Tommy thinks knows from that alone that this cannot go well for him.
Tommy nods, “It’s okay big man, you’ve done more than enough for me.”
They both know Tommy has more to say, but neither comment on it as they each get into the car.
Silence fills the air as they settle, Tommy is in the back and Sam is in the front and neither of them will speak. It will be a solemn ride and they both know it. They know it as Sam pulls out from where the car was parked and as they drive down the bumpy roads.
Tommy’s hands wring together and his eyes trace the passing buildings as he wonders how much time in jail they are going to try to give him. He figures that no matter the time he deserves it.
He figures that maybe it would be nice to not have to run anymore, to finally be caught in the trap laid out for you. He has spent so long playing the mouse in this absurd game of chase and he thinks that maybe it is okay for the game to finally have come to a close.
Running is tiring, and now he doesn’t have to run anymore. He doesn’t have to run as the car pulls into the lot or as Sam lightly pulls him out of the car and into the station.
He doesn’t have to run as he gets interrogated and put into a holding cell.
He can just breathe.
It is nice. It is nice being able to just breathe and accept that this is what he will live. He will live in the cells and with the prison food and whatnot. It is nice knowing what his future holds.
That’s what he thinks at least. He thinks he knows what his future holds except when Sam comes to the cell door he has some kind of bitter smile on his face.
He isn’t frowning though, and that is what scares Tommy the most.
“Tommy,” Sam’s face turns into a grimace. “I think I may have saved you, but I don’t know if you are going to like what I have to say.”
Tommy nods cautiously.
“I have convinced them to not take you to court, but there is a condition.”
Tommy carefully meets Sam’s gaze.
“You have to apprentice a detective.”
Tommy’s mouth drops, “What?!”
“I know, I know, but this is the only way I could stop them from pressing charges.”
“Sam, you know how much I dislike the detectives.”
Sam sighs, he knows. He knows Tommy’s past and he knows what the detectives failed to do for him. “I know Tommy, but this was the only way that they deemed you could learn to respect the law according to the mayor.”
Tommy looks down at his hands, “Maybe jail would be better.”
“Tommy we both know that you need to have some resemblance of freedom and you won’t have that there.”
Tommy nods, he resigns himself to this fate. He lets himself agree to working for the very people that failed him all of those years. He doesn’t want to, but Sam is right.
Tommy is a runner and he can’t run if he is chained. He can’t fly if they clip his wings.
So, Tommy is now a detective. Well, a detective's apprentice.
Sam tells him that this is kind of a double sided punishment because apparently the detective he is being paired under sucks or something. That isn’t exactly what Sam said, but that is what Tommy heard out of all the words.
He gets told that he has to be at the station tomorrow to meet the detective before they will then go to the detective’s office. Tommy nods, it is stiff and sharp and he just would like to go home.
Eventually he is released. The night air is warm and as Tommy walks the stars become more prevalent and he begins to hear the chirping of the crickets hiding in the grass. His home is on the outskirts of town.
It isn’t anything grand, but it isn’t some rundown shack either. It is a three bedroom, two bath home and it is everything Tommy could have asked for and more. It is the home where he grew up and the place where his friends came over to and his parents held block parties.
This was his home.
It isn’t really a home anymore.
The halls that once used to be filled with laughter and life are now empty. The kitchen isn’t filled with the scent of home cooked meals and there isn’t a TV playing softly in the background when he enters the house.
His parents aren’t there with welcoming arms and warm smiles. His parents won’t ever be there again. They are gone and they took that sense of home with them.
Tommy is now left with the memories of them that he clutches close to his heart, as though they can slip right through his fingers like a cigarette turning to ash. He doesn’t get their love anymore.
He got that taken away from him when they were murdered. He got it all taken away when nobody cared enough to learn what had happened to his parents.
The house is dark. It is always dark now.
It was dark from the lack of light that his parents emitted and it was dark from Tommy just not having the energy to turn on lights that he doesn’t need.
So, it is dark and Tommy is tired and he does not want to go be some apprentice for some stupid detective.
He decides to just sleep. When Tommy sleeps he doesn’t have to think about the death or his sentence for his most recent crime. When he sleeps he doesn’t have to think about life, he can just exist.
Sleep is like his break. He gets to breathe and just rest and so he cherishes these moments at night when he moves into his room and lies in the bed and listens to the sounds of the crickets and a too quiet home.
He gets ready for bed, he brushes his teeth and puts on whatever pajamas are on the floor and he pulls the covers back. He doesn’t look around his room much anymore, afraid to see something that will just remind him of what he no longer has.
Instead, he just slips into bed and closes his eyes. He closes them and lets all of his stress bleed into tomorrow and he allows himself to finally stop running and to just stop.
He stops and he sleeps and he has a nightmare or two that he won’t remember when he wakes up. He won’t remember his screams or the blood or his helplessness when he wakes up.
He will remember the flashes and that pure feeling of fear, but he won’t remember anything else. Sometimes he doesn’t know if that is a blessing or a curse.
There is no alarm to wake him up nowadays. He doesn’t have the smell of cooking bacon or the sound of his parents moving around downstairs.
The rays that shine through his window wake him up and the silence that emanates around the home keeps him awake. He hasn’t gotten over the eeriness of a silent home yet and to be honest he isn’t sure he ever will.
He doesn’t mull on that thought though, he just gets ready. It is a monotonous task and he slips into the ease of the routine as he moves around the house. He gets dressed and brushes his teeth and slips toast into the toaster.
He calculates how long it will take for him to make it to the station and he considers the consequences of skipping.
He leaves at 11 am. He has to be there at 12 and he figures that he might as well take the long way.
He walks out of his house and he doesn’t bother to look back, he doesn’t want to face the desolate place that he still tries to call his home.
The sun is rising in the sky and beaming down on him, sweat begins to bead on his forehead and his shirt begins to stick to his skin. He ignores it all though, he ignores it all for the beauty of nature.
The sky is a brilliant blue and the clouds float lazily in the sky and the sun casts shadows on the ground and the flowers soak up the light. It is all beautiful. Nature is beautiful in every sense, Tommy doesn’t think that there is anything ugly about nature.
He can’t find anything wrong with the way the grass sways in the wind or the way the squirrels run up the trees or the nests that the birds build in the tops of the trees and the nooks of stores.
He can’t find a single fault in nature, because everything about it is meticulous and has so much detail put into everything. There is detail in the way the rays shine that day and the shape of the clouds and the texture of the landscape and Tommy appreciates the art that is each new day.
Soon enough, the grass turns into buildings and the birds stop chirping and the sun is blocked by another skyscraper. Nature is replaced with the artificial world that is the city and Tommy sighs as he walks closer and closer to his own demise.
The station is in his view and he sees Sam leaning against the brick wall outside, waiting for Tommy. He sees the cop cars and the way the windows gleam in the light. He hates it all. He wants to leave.
He could turn on his heel, he could run and never look back, but he can’t do that.
As much as he hates to admit it, this city is a part of his home. He knows the city like the back of his hand and he has walked the streets for longer than he can remember. This city is the bane of his existence, but it is also the reason he continues to live.
The bustling of the cars on the road and the looming buildings and the air pollution equally make him want to run into the forest and bask in the reflected light of the city.
He hates the city, he hates the sound of the cars and the fake light that flits through the environment. He hates the cops and the glass walls surrounding him and the people on all sides.
He loves the city, he loves the way people cross paths everyday and the alleyways that hide things from the world. He loves the ever present bustle of life and the way that there is never a dull moment in the city.
It is a constant love-hate relationship and Tommy wishes that he could hate it all as much as he says he does, but he can’t. For that reason, Tommy stays and he walks up to Sam and he doesn’t run.
“Hey Sam,” Tommy lifts a hand for a limp attempt at a wave.
Sam seems relieved that Tommy actually showed up, “Hey Tommy.”
That is that. Sam leads Tommy inside and Tommy tries to keep an open mind at this idea. He tries to keep a smile on his face as they walk down the halls. He tries to keep his hands from wringing together and he attempts to keep his eyes forward.
He thinks that somehow this walk is more stressful than if he was going to go to court.
They pass doors upon doors, but Tommy just knows that it is going to be the very last door.
Every door looks the same, and their feet click clack on the tile. The sounds echo through the quiet hallway and the tension bubbling through the air could slice through a stick of butter with ease.
Click, clack. Click, clack.
Doors upon doors and the hallway feels endless and click, clack, click, clack.
Sam begins to slow to a stop.
Tommy stays a step behind him.
Click, clack, click, clack.
They stop in front of a door. It looks the same as all of the other ones, but it is so different.
This door holds his future, this door seals his fate.
He breathes and Sam reaches for the door handle.
A broad hand reaches for the bronze door handle, wrapping around it and twisting slowly. Tommy is bouncing on his heels, it feels like the world is moving in tantalizingly slow motion.
The door slips open, and Tommy has to physically stop himself from bolting then and there. He has to be strong, he can’t keep running.
Sam steps aside, the door is wide open now and he knows Sam is inviting him inside.
His eyes trace the floor and he forces himself to move forward. He passes the door frame and he listens as Sam shuts the food behind them, and it is only then that he finally lifts his eyes off of the floor.
As his eyes move they catch first on the dress shoes. They are black and scuffed and Tommy can’t tell much about the guy from that alone. His eyes move up and he catches his eyes on the black slacks and the loose yellow business shirt.
Tommy thinks yellow is an odd choice, but he won’t say anything.
The man is looking at Tommy and he has some sort of grimace on his face. His hair is a rat nest of brunette curls on the top of his head and Tommy thinks that some kind of animal could sleep in the bags under his eyes.
Tommy gives a brisk wave, he is uninterested in anything this man has to say, but he has to pretend.
Luckily for Tommy, it appears this man wants nothing to do with Tommy either because all he does is grumble under his breath. At that, Tommy glances back at Sam and Sam just sighs.
“Wilbur, you have to talk to the kid,” Sam sounds like a tired dad and Tommy wonders how long they have known each other.
“I don’t want to though,” this Wilbur guy pulls his arms across his chest and downturns his mouth.
Tommy snickers and Wilbur gives him a glare.
“Tommy, don’t antagonize him.”
Tommy whips his head to look at Sam, “I wasn’t even doing that!”
Sam gives him a look and Tommy backs down.
“Okay, now Wilbur, introduce yourself.”
Wilbur sighs before turning towards Tommy a bit more, “Hi my name is Wilbur..”
Sam waves his hand, urging Wilbur to say something more.
“I am a detective and I like the color blue.”
Tommy nods, he doesn’t really know what to say to that. Wilbur didn’t really give him much to work with.
“Cool,” Sam seems to sigh at those words but Tommy smiles contently.
“Tommy,” Sam sounds like he needs a nap and maybe a vacation.
“Sorry,” Tommy drops his head slightly before actually introducing himself.
“Hello, I’m Tommy, everyone’s favorite local criminal! I hate detectives and you seem stupid, but I am glad to be here and not jail!”
Tommy smiles smugly as he sticks his hand out to offer to shake hands. Wilbur, however, looks like he just got mugged or something by the look on his face.
“Where did you find this kid Sam?”
The hand is dropped to his side and Tommy steps into Wilbur’s view again. “I actually found Sam!”
A slight fond chuckle is heard from Sam and Wilbur looks like he would rather shoot himself then talk to Tommy.
“I was talking to Sam, not you.”
“Well I wasn’t done with our conversation.”
“I was.”
Tommy doesn’t respond to that, instead turning to Sam again, “Did you have to choose the most annoying guy?”
“I had to pick someone that you would get along with,” Sam is smiling.
“But he is annoying.”
“Exactly.”
Tommy shuts up and Wilbur bursts into a fit of laughter.
“What are you laughing at? He called you annoying too!”
Wilbur stops laughing, “Hey! Wait, I’m not annoying.”
Sam chooses this to be the best moment to send them off, “Okay, it is time for you guys to head into work!”
They are practically shoved out the door and Tommy has to stop himself from “accidentally” elbowing Wilbur.
They walk through the hallway, only their breaths and footsteps filling the air. It isn’t as tense this time, not like on the way there and Tommy bounds through the hallways if only to bother Wilbur.
The sun is still beaming down on them when they exit and Tommy immediately waits for Wilbur to point out his car so they can get this show on the road.
Wilbur starts walking and Tommy follows. They walk to some random grey car that is rather boring in Tommy’s opinion and enter. Tommy figures that Wilbur isn’t one for small talk so instead he turns on the radio.
Some pop song is playing on the radio and Wilbur makes a disgusted face before plugging in his phone to connect it to his own playlist.
The songs aren’t boring, but they aren’t something Tommy would normally listen to. He doesn’t mind it though, simply bopping his head to the beats and glancing out the windows as they make their way to Wilbur’s office.
Tommy isn’t quite sure what detectives do exactly but he figures it has to be a whole lot of nothing, so he prepares himself for a very boring summer.
The car ride is calm enough, neither of them talk and the buildings blur by and Wilbur drums his fingers on the wheel. It is rather peaceful in a way and if it were any other situation Tommy would have found himself relaxing.
Except, he is in a stranger’s car and he is going to have to be an apprentice to a guy who does not seem very fond of him. Tommy figures that there is nothing he can do about that though considering it was either this guy or jail.
The car slows to a stop, breaking Tommy’s train of thought and forcing him to look up to the front.
The building is unassuming, just like any other and Wilbur gets out of the car without a word said to Tommy. Tommy scrambles to get out of the car and to catch up to Wilbur and his stupidly long legs.
The door is made of glass and Wilbur pushes it open with nothing more than a slight glance back to make sure Tommy was following. The inside is nice enough, it looks about how you would expect a detective's office to look.
It is bland and boring and there are some people mulling around and others talking to each other with folders and hushed whispers. There are like cubicles and separate offices and an ever present buzz of energy that reminds Tommy of the city at night.
He thinks it is comforting in a way, it reminds him of the stuff that he loves about the city he lives in. The only thing is that he hates that everyone here are the people he despises most.
“This is the office, you won’t do anything but sit here and watch me work.”
Tommy pouts a bit, he may not like these people but he doesn’t want to sit around like a dog all day.
“No way, you can’t make me sit around all day doing nothing.”
Wilbur scoffs, “Of course I can.”
Tommy smiles, “I’ll tell Sam.”
Wilbur’s eyes widened, “Okay, nevermind. I’ll figure out something for you to do.”
They keep walking and Tommy has the smuggest smile ever plastered onto his face. Wilbur seems to take to just avoiding looking at Tommy, which Tommy can get behind.
“When will we get to your office or whatever,” Tommy makes sure to sound extra annoying just to spite Wilbur.
“It is right in front of us,” Wilbur sounds tired, exasperated, bored.
Tommy just hums as Wilbur leads him into the cubicle that he calls his own. The little place he spends the better half of his days working in.
Papers are scattered across the desk and there are two computer screens and post it notes covering the walls.
But what Tommy notices first is the lack of personal items. There are no picture frames or anything, nothing that makes this cubicle uniquely Wilbur’s.
Something seems telling about that, like Tommy could figure out Wilbur just from the lack of sentimentals in his work place. Tommy won’t say anything though, it isn’t his place to.
Wilbur sits in the office chair and slumps into his seat, taking a look at all of the papers scattered on the desk before sighing.
There isn’t a seat for Tommy so he stands awkwardly in the corner, watching Wilbur sulk at his desk.
“So, what are we doing today?”
Wilbur looks up slowly towards the corner Tommy has claimed, “ I’m going to work on this case.”
Tommy moves closer to read over his shoulder, “Well, if I recalled we had an agreement that I would do stuff.”
Wilbur turns his chair and forces Tommy to step back.
“What would you even do?”
The smile that emerges on Tommy’s face is almost sinister, “I can just help you out, your job can’t be that hard.”
Wilbur splutters at his words, “I went to school for this, not just anyone can do my job!”
He seems borderline offended and Tommy has to stop himself from bursting into a fit of laughter.
“You guys don’t seem to do much anyways,” Tommy reaches over Wilbur and attempts to pick up some files.
“Those are confidential,” Wilbur swats his hand, but that won’t stop Tommy.
“I’m your apprentice so I can see them,” he snatches a random manilla folder and holds it above his hand before backing out of the cubicle.
It has some pictures of some crime scene and Tommy begins to read through the details.
His eyes land on the case number first, it isn’t anything of value, but something he notes. Then there is the name: Nancy Johnson. It is a plain name, nothing memorable. There is a cause of death, strangulation appears to be the main cause but by the image Tommy can assume there was a struggle.
There is a witness statement, presumably from a friend or a boyfriend and Tommy makes sure to skim through it briefly. It is filled with a whole lot of fluff and filler, nothing that gives much information for him.
He then flips through the evidence images. There are pictures of her home and her body and any evidence they may have found, not that there was much.
Tommy hums and then the file gets ripped from his hand.
“You can’t be looking at that!”
A sigh falls from Tommy’s mouth, “How old is that case?”
Wilbur furrows his brow and Tommy gives him a look.
“Probably 3 months old.”
Tommy nods before grabbing the file again and pointing some things out, “In this first image you can see that there are bottles on the counter which insinuates that people were drinking.”
He flips to the testimony.
“This guy here says that they just dropped her off and left, but the scene doesn’t back that up. You can also see that there was a struggle and the size of the bruise on the neck makes it seem as though the person was bigger than them.”
Wilbur’s eyes go wide.
“I think you should talk to this person further, you guys should have tested those bottles and presumably the empty glasses. You also should have figured out if that person had a solid alibi.”
Tommy glances at Wilbur and smiles before continuing again.
“Overall, you guys miss the easy details. This woman's family could have had closure but you guys call yourself detectives and then don’t detect the easy stuff that could make these unsolved cases closed.”
A jaw is dropped and the file is snatched from Tommy’s hand. Wilbur frantically flips through everything, eyes scanning and face downturning.
“No way,” Wilbur glances up at Tommy shock written across his face. “Did you just solve this murder?”
Tommy shrugs, “It wasn’t hard you guys are just stupid.”
“No, no, we have had people working on this for months!”
Tommy raises an eyebrow, “Dude, all the evidence is right there.”
Wilbur doesn’t respond, instead running out of the cubicle with the file and a grin that spreads from ear to ear as he rushes down to one of the main offices. Tommy finds himself waddling slowly behind Wilbur, confusion lacing everything that he does.
“Phil! I think I’ve solved a case!”
Tommy mutters under his breath, “You mean I solved a case.”
No one pays him any attention though, too busy watching Wilbur run around like he is holding the winning lottery ticket. All of them seem equally as confused and that gives Tommy a bit of comfort.
“Phil!” Wilbur is screaming throughout the office and if Tommy looks to where Wilbur is looking he can make out some blond guy in one of the nicer offices. He thinks it isn’t absurd to assume that guy is Phil.
Who Tommy assumes is Phil glances up at the lanky man practically jogging towards his office, exasperation obvious in his eyes. Wilbur doesn’t seem to notice it though because he just bursts through the door of the office.
“Phil!”
If Tommy hears that name come from Wilbur’s mouth one more time he might punch him.
“Yes Wilbur?” Phil looks up with tired blue eyes and a frown already forming on his lips.
Wilbur visibly deflates before remembering himself.
“I think I–”
Tommy coughs.
“Sorry, we have made some progress on this case,” Wilbur’s grin is huge as he slides the file across the desk to Phil.
Phil picks it up gingerly and slides a pair of glasses onto his face. “Who is the kid?”
He opens the file and Wilbur bristles at the mention of Tommy.
“He is my apprentice, the one that you assigned for me to have,” the words are bitter as they fall from Wilbur's mouth.
“Ah, so what did you guys find here?”
Phil seems so bored with the conversation, he seems as though he expects Wilbur to fail and that makes something ache in Tommy’s heart.
“Well, we looked closer at the case and deduced that it might have been the best friend. There are drinks on the counter and it makes sense with the crime scene.”
Icy eyes flip through the file and Tommy can feel Wilbur’s nervous energy emanating from his entire being. He can tell Wilbur craves the validation from this man for whatever reason.
“Hm,” Phil is apathetic as he looks through it before setting the file down. “It took you long enough, this case was solved months ago.”
Wilbur’s jaw drops, “What? You had me working on a solved case for all of these months?”
He sounds so hurt and Tommy barely knows him, but he wants to protect him.
“You were in a slump and I figured it would be best to get you to figure out cases we already knew the answer to before putting you on real cases again.”
Wilbur sighs, “Oh, yeah. I get it.”
He goes to leave and Tommy cautiously follows behind, “Sorry for wasting your time Phil.”
Wilbur leaves, dejected and sad and Tommy cannot help but not like this Phil dude for the game he just played with Wilbur.
Black dress shoes hit the floor and Tommy follows as Wilbur heads out the back door. A cigarette is pulled from his pocket and all Tommy can do is follow.
Smoke falls from sullen lips and silence fills the air in the back alley as Wilbur leans against the wall with closed eyes.
“I am pathetic,” he doesn’t open his eyes and Tommy doesn’t know how to respond.
“No, you aren’t,” both of them can hear the hesitation in his voice.
Wilbur laughs, it is bitter and Tommy flinches slightly.
“Phil doesn’t trust me. Everyone in there thinks I’m a joke. I don’t know why I still try to pretend I am a detective.”
Tommy bristles, “Wilbur, I may not know you very well, but if I know one thing it is that you can’t just submit to this.”
Wilbur opens his eyes.
“You have to prove yourself and I can help you do that. I know I was meant to be a punishment for your shortcomings but why not make the most of this?”
A smile begins to form and so Tommy continues.
“I have a case you can solve,” Tommy breathes carefully.
“It is from about 2 years ago, but you guys never solved it.”
Wilbur looks curiously and Tommy cannot believe he is about to trauma dump on this man.
“My parents were killed 2 years ago, and their killer is still out there.”
A gasp is heard and Tommy steadies himself carefully.
“Tommy, I don’t think it would be smart to work on that case.”
Tommy shakes his head, “No we have to. You have to prove yourself and I need closure. This is the only way.”
Wilbur is hesitant, Tommy can see it in the way his fingers twitch and his mouth downturns as Tommy talks.
“Are you sure?”
It is an olive branch and Tommy yanks it from his hands.
“Yes.”
The air around them settles and neither of them move for a moment before finally Wilbur breaks the silence.
“Okay, let’s get to work then,” he has a broken smile on his face and a half burned cigarette in his hand and Tommy finds himself slapping a broken smile on his face as well.
Tommy opens the door, letting Wilbur lead the way. Their feet hit the floor in sync and they both have matching faces of determination. Tommy knows that the first thing they have to do is get the old files.
“How are we gonna get their case file?”
“I can get it, no one will stop me from trying to solve something that they deemed cold.”
Tommy nods and they keep moving. They move into Wilbur's cubicle and he watches with calculating eyes as Wilbur begins to type up a request for a case file.
“What were their names?”
“Lucy and Michael Innit.”
Wilbur just nods before typing in their names and the approximate age of the case before hitting send.
“If all goes well we should have the file by tomorrow. We will have to go get it, but that is fine as well.”
Tommy just nods.
“Until then we can figure out which of these cases on my desk have already been solved.”
They go through dozens of files, Tommy researching and combing through them to figure out if it is another throwaway case.
Most of them are and the few that aren’t are cold cases from years ago. Tommy sighs as he flips through some of the last files, finding the easy details and the evidence that they already have caught the killer.
It is saddening, to see how little faith they put into Wilbur. To watch as Wilbur slumps further and further into his chair as the pile of closed cases grows.
“I have just been a pawn in their game this whole time.”
“You can’t lose a game that you didn’t know you were playing Wilbur,” Tommy doesn’t know when he got good at giving advice. “You know the game now and you are making your own rules. You can win now.”
Wilbur’s lips tilt upwards into the slightest of smiles, “Thanks Tommy, you are kind of smart for an annoying criminal.”
Tommy snorts, “Of course I am.”
They keep going through the files, and once they finish they take to moving them to Phil’s office. The files are dropped onto the floor in front of the door unceremoniously and they leave a note that has a few bitter words written on it.
Tommy makes sure Wilbur stays in line and Wilbur focuses on not breaking through the door in rage. They make a pretty good team.
As a team, they then leave before Phil opens the door and sees them there.
Wilbur decides that they can leave early,they did finish all of the files that he has been working on for months, so they deserve the break.
Tommy agrees because he wants to get out of there. He may kind of like Wilbur now, but that doesn’t mean he will tolerate all of the other snobby detectives in there.
The sun is setting when they leave. You can see glimpses of the sky and the colors, but both of them know that in the city they will never see a true sunset. People are walking down the road and cars are everywhere and Tommy thinks that this is nice.
Watching people pass and listening to the city bustle with life as he and Wilbur walk to the car. It is peaceful in a way, and maybe only Tommy thinks that.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?”
Wilbur looks back at Tommy, “What? The city?”
Tommy hums, “Yeah, well kind of. I hate the city, but there is something kind of nice about the constant noise and the people with totally different lives to our own that pass us every day.”
Wilbur unlocks the car and they both slide in and then Tommy continues, “Everyone has a story, and I think that it is interesting to watch how some storylines cross in a city like this. People are connected by the common threads that bind them and no one notices.”
Wilbur puts the car into drive, “You think a lot for a kid your age.”
“You don’t even know how old I am.”
“I know you aren’t old enough for this life or your knowledge.”
Tommy doesn’t respond.
The radio is turned on to ease away the silence that had settled over the car.
Wilbur hums along quietly and Tommy watches the buildings blur.
He makes up stories about the people and he thinks about the story of Wilbur’s life. He thinks and maybe Wilbur was right when he said that he thinks too much.
But, Tommy knows that sometimes it just takes one thought to change everything.
One thought can change a person's life, one thought can make you turn left instead of right, one thought can make or break everything.
Tommy thinks a lot, he thinks that is justified.
–
It takes a week for them to really begin the investigation. They have the file and Tommy has gone through it with a fine tooth comb to try to find anything that might have been missed. He spends hours looking through all of the evidence.
He spends hours looking at his parents dead body.
He spends hours reading through the witness testimonies.
He spends hours forcing himself to try to find what the others couldn’t.
He spends hours failing.
Wilbur is the one who pulls him away from the file. Wilbur is the one who pulls him above the water, gives him a chance to breathe, the one who saves him from the pool of despair he was drowning in.
They take their time after that, Wilbur looks after Tommy and Tommy looks after himself.
Pages upon pages are searched through, bags form under their eyes, and a list of people to talk to is made. They take time, they are careful and meticulous and nobody questions what they are doing.
They are a detective and a kid with an eye for the details and they are going to solve this murder.
Wilbur pours his everything into the case, he keeps Tommy afloat and he makes sure the boy is okay. Wilbur doesn’t think they can solve it, but Tommy does. This means Wilbur keeps going anyways.
Tommy’s whole heart and soul is going into this case and a part of him can’t tell if it is for him or for Wilbur. He wants to say it is for himself but the deeper and deeper they go, the more people they interview and the more loose ends they find, the more Tommy thinks that maybe he is doing this for Wilbur.
The case is draining, and they aren’t finding anything but both won’t give up because they are doing this for each other at this point. There is no passion behind the case like there first was.
After the first month, they had the spark still, they had the light behind their actions and the determination hiding in their eyes.
After the third month, the light was dulled, like a sheet was thrown over it. They lacked the determination, but for what they lack they make up for with the love hiding in their hearts.
By month six, they lost the passion, they lost the light, they lost the determination. The light was lost to time and the passion was snuffed out like a cigarette on the concrete.
They kept trying though, hours were spent looking at a long lost case and hours were spent practically wasting time.
Neither of them would call it a waste though.
Tommy and Wilbur could never call it a waste because now they are close, they have learned that they are more similar than they seem, they are practically brothers.
How could that ever be a waste?
–
It is only on a night when the stars are high in the sky and the wind is frigid and Tommy and Wilbur are wrapped in a blanket and staring at the neverending abyss of black that twinkles like glitter when the light catches.
Their breaths can be seen if you squint hard enough and cold fingers grip onto the blanket for some warmth. They just lie there on the grass, staring at the light that is years upon years old.
Neither of them speak for a while, instead relishing in this brief moment of peace.
“Hey Tommy,” Wilbur doesn’t normally start the conversations, but something about looking at a section of the universe like this has willed him to break the silence.
“Yeah Wil?” Tommy speaks softly, he speaks with a sort of gentleness that can only be described as the way you would speak to a puppy or a newborn.
“Should we just give up?”
Tommy doesn’t sit up but the rustling is heard throughout the empty field as he turns, “Depends.”
Wilbur hums before turning to face Tommy as well, “What does it depend on?”
“Are you still doing it for yourself?”
“No,” it is finite and Wilbur feels himself frowning as he says it. “I don’t think I am.”
He watches Tommy’s face, waiting for it to fall, but it doesn’t.
“I don’t think I am either.”
Wilbur lets that sink in for a moment, “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
A silence falls over them, covering them like a blanket of snow. It isn’t uncomfortable, not really, but one wouldn’t describe it as comfortable either.
It is just there, ever present and waiting for something to come and break it.
Tommy takes a deep breath, “Do we stop then?”
“Yeah, I think we do.”
“What do we do now?”
Wilbur looks at Tommy’s eyes and he realizes that it doesn’t matter what he says as long as Tommy is included in the plan.
“We find a new case, we continue to be friends and make stupid jokes and pretend either of us are good detectives.”
Tommy smiles, “I like the sound of that.”
“I do too,” they both adorn matching smiles now.
The stars twinkle in the sky, the wind chills the air, two boys lay on the grass with twin smiles and freezing fingers.
They don’t have a plan, not for tomorrow and definitely not for the future.
They don’t need one though, not when they have each other.
So, they lay and they watch the stars and they think about the friendship they have made and the detective work that they both hate but keep at for the sake of it.
They think about the laughs and the long nights and the long lost passion.
They think a lot, and they smile more, and Tommy doesn’t have to run anymore because he has someone now.
He was always running, because there was nobody around to keep him in one place, and now he has Wilbur.
He has Wilbur and Wilbur has him and they have each other and the stars and their thoughts.
Tommy can breathe and he can take in the world and he can enjoy life and Wilbur is learning that he can enjoy life too.
“Thank you,” it is whispered into the air, something to be lost to the night sky.
“Thank you too.”