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Three months.
It had been three months since David had last stepped foot in this place. Nestled in this cramped, sketchy corner of the city was his father’s pride and joy.
‘Shaw Security’
The narrow, two-story building wasn’t in the best of shape. The peeling stucco was crumbling along the corners, revealing the brick underneath. The white lettering on the front window was wearing away at the edges. The interior was dark and the glass windows peeked out beneath the barred safety shutters, reflecting the dark orange glow of the late afternoon sun.
The streets were vacant for the most part. The only sign of life was the partially lit ‘Walk-ins Welcome’ neon light sign blinking near the entrance of the building. David had always thought the sign looked gimmicky, but his father would argue to the contrary.
“It gives it an old school, noir charm,” his father would say in good humor. “Besides, a start-up like ours will take any business we can get. There's a method to my madness.” He would tap his temple with a nod, as if it contained all of the secrets of the universe.
As the unbidden memories bubbled to the surface, David could feel the familiar wave of uncontrollable grief wash over him. He choked back a sob, gripping the keys of the building tightly in his hand.
He really didn’t want to be here. It was only necessity that brought him to this place.
The lease was falling behind, and in the past few weeks, the buildings’ owner had been constantly harassing David over the late payments. David was compelled to return only after the owner had threatened him with legal action, as well as the seizure of everything within the Shaw Pack Security office as collateral. His father’s death be damned.
David resolutely pushed his grief in the deepest part of himself. No time to mourn. There was work to do.
He jostled with the keys to find the right set before unlocking the front door. It took a few unsuccessful attempts to open before David finally managed to shoulder the door free.
Stepping inside, David could smell the stagnant air of the office. It was apparent that no one had set foot in this place for quite a while. The light coating of dust he had managed to kick up hung in the air, visible through the rays of light peeking through the shutters.
David batted the air away from his face, doing his best not to cough. He flipped the switch near the entrance, the electricity taking a few moments to kick in before the fluorescent lights overhead flickered to life.
Scanning over the room, it was just as David had remembered it. The waiting room was the largest room in the office, which honestly wasn’t saying much. The front desk was shoved into the far left corner of the room, along with a telephone, printer, and fax machine. Two people could barely squeeze by each other when manning the front. Opposite of the front desk was a tan, second-hand leather couch his father had spotted at one of the local flea markets.
David recalled how his father had drafted Asher and Milo's fathers, as well as Asher, Milo, and David himself, into assisting with the moving process of the newly leased office. The day was spent shuttling filing cabinets, plastic chairs, office supplies, fake plants, coffee machines, and probably the damned kitchen sink too.
That stupid couch was the cherry on top of an already stressful, miserable day. It was wide, and it was heavy. It had been a pain in the ass to maneuver up the small set of stairs, but attempting to fit it through the narrow door required an engineering degree and perhaps an act of God. The rest of the day was filled with many curses, arguments, and a lot of empty beers.
By some miracle, they had finally managed to squeeze the damned thing through the entrance. However, there was no fanfare or victory celebration, just a long stretch of sullen silence. His father had placed his hands over his hips, breathing heavily at the exertion. After a few moments, he finally broke the silence.
“...I’m getting us some fucking pizzas.”
The stain from the marinara sauce was still visible in one area of the dark, beige carpet. It helped make the decision easier when determining where to place the couch.
The corners of David’s eyes stung as he wiped the tears away with his wrist.
It’s just the dust.
David shuffled into the adjacent room, behind the front desk. This was where his father’s office was. The door was open - it was always open.
Stepping over the threshold felt like stepping back in time. Everything was how his father had left it. The walls were occupied with filing cabinets, several drawers still half-open. Boxes of office supplies were still left unpacked, piled into small areas on the floor. His fathers’ desk was covered with stacks of documents, along with a stale cup of coffee. Every surface of the cramped office was in use.
To say his father was not an organized man was an understatement, but somehow he had always managed to make it work.
David walked around his father’s desk, gazing at the empty chair. He still couldn’t bring himself to sit in it. He nudged it to the side as he began opening the various desk drawers.
“Where the hell did you keep the lease contract papers?” David muttered to himself. His father was never much of a computer guy, opting to do most of his record keeping with pen and paper. Unfortunately for David, his father also never made it a habit to label anything either. David agitatedly leafed through the stacks of papers, none of which seemed to hold the information he required.
After several minutes of searching, David could feel his temper mounting, his jaw clenched tight as yet another stack of papers yielded nothing that he needed. A couple of hours had passed with no success. He must have searched through several dozen stacks of papers.
David snapped out angrily, “What the actual fuck, Dad?! You couldn’t have made it a little easier for me? For Christs’ sake!” Impulsively, his arm swept the recently searched stack of papers off of the desk and onto the floor, scattering the pages. This time, David fully sat in his father’s chair, burying his face in his hands, breathing heavily through his nose.
After a few moments, he peered through his fingers, noticing a couple of picture frames on the desk facing him. He slowly dropped his hands from his face, pulling both frames closer. One held a picture of his late mother, cradling David as an infant. The other was a picture of both David and his father, taken after David had graduated from school. The picture had shown David holding his diploma, a bashful, almost embarrassed smile on his face. His father on the other hand had an arm slung across David’s shoulders, his chest puffed out with a wide grin on his face. He looked so proud.
David felt something break inside of him.
Overcome with guilt, painful, broken sobs clawed its way out of his throat as his vision swam with tears. He once again buried his face in his hands, leaning back in the chair as if trying to hold back the oncoming wave of grief.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. He internally repeated in his mind, hoping his dad would forgive him for his misdirected anger.
After several minutes, his tears eventually subsided, and he settled back into the comfortable numbness he was accustomed to.
His tired eyes swept over the surface of the desk. From what David could deduce from his initial review of the various stacks of documents, the large pile on the left-hand side was for unfinished work, while the other smaller pile on the right-hand side was for completed work.
He glanced at the clock hanging over the gap above the filing cabinets. It was well into the evening hours. The sun had long since set, casting the edges of the room in darkness.
With mechanical movements, David opened the top drawer of the desk, fishing out a pen before grabbing the first paper on his left and placing it in front of him. He knew he wasn’t going to be getting sleep any time soon, he may as well start the organization process now. Maybe eventually he would find what he was looking for.
With a click of his pen, David began to busy himself with work.
—--
David poured himself another cup of coffee before returning to the desk. He had put quite a dent in his father’s former work pile, nearly halfway through. However, much to David’s chagrin, one common pattern appeared to emerge from quite a few recent complaints from the Department.
“Covert Violation (Voluntary - Third degree)”
“Covert Violation (Voluntary - Second degree)”
“Assault of Empowered Citizen(s) (Second degree)”
“Reckless Endangerment of Empowered Citizen(s) (Involuntary)”
“Failure to Report to Designated Empowered Education Facility”
“Covert Violation (Voluntary - First degree)”
The growing pile of violations stemmed from none other than a fellow packmate. David frowned at the substantial list of unanswered charges. He had known his packmate had played fast and loose with a number of covert-related rules, but he had no idea how extensive their misdemeanors were.
His father had never mentioned any of this to him. Even when encountering them in pack meetings, his father was always warm and welcoming toward them. Never giving any indication of any problems or issues they were causing toward him, or to the pack.
David felt an instinctive surge of protectiveness over his father. Were they simply taking advantage of his father’s good nature? Letting him deal with all of the repercussions of their actions while they ran around scott free? How long has this been going on?
Perhaps his father was too soft on them if this was any indication.
David started a separate pile solely for his packmate and continued working.
Another hour must have passed before David’s ears picked up on the sound of the front door being opened. His eyebrows furrowed as he stopped mid-writing, his pen hovering over the document in front of him. He wasn’t expecting company, especially this late at night. The only people he had told of his plans were Asher and Marie. Both of which had mentioned they would be swinging by in the morning to help with organizing the office.
If it was an intruder, then God help them. David wasn’t in the most charitable of moods to be dealing with would-be burglars.
The footsteps in the waiting room were tentative, as if contemplating turning around to leave. By now, they must have seen the lights were on in the back office. So anyone with thieving on their minds wouldn’t risk rounding the corner, only to find a shotgun pointed in their direction. Or in this case, an irate Shifter just itching to teach a lesson to anyone who dared to rob his father’s place.
To David’s surprise, however, he could hear the person take soft, measured steps toward his father’s office.
He remained sitting at the desk. There was no way his fathers’ tacky sign managed to bring in a random walk-in client. But he figured he may as well humor the possibility.
A few tense moments passed before the figure emerged through the doorway. David’s eyes widened slightly as he recognized them. His fellow packmate, the resident troublemaker.
He was certainly not expecting this turn of events. David felt his demeanor turning frigid at their arrival.
“Hey…” they ventured. David continued to stare silently at them, waiting for them to drop yet another problem into his lap. After an awkward pause, they continued, “I couldn’t find you anywhere else, so I figured…” they gestured vaguely around the room. With a small chuckle, they added, “And I thought I was the night owl around here.”
Their attempt at levity fell flat as they registered David’s deadpan expression. David said nothing and instead resumed his writing. He may as well be productive while waiting for the other shoe to drop.
His eyes didn’t catch them wringing their hands together anxiously. A few agonizing seconds passed before he heard their voice speak up again.
“David. I…I need your help.”
David let out a sharp breath through his nose, placing his pen loudly to the side before meeting their gaze. Without breaking eye contact, he wordlessly held up the violation notices in his hand for them to see. The look of frozen shock registered on their face as they belatedly recognized the letters.
After he was satisfied they fully understood how much shit they were currently in, David placed the notices back in its designated pile. He may not have started this mess, but he was damn sure going to finish it.
“I assume you’re referring to these.” David said pointedly. “How would you like to review them? You’re here now. So let’s review them together.”
Their voice raised in protest, “No! It’s not like that! I only wanted to–”
“Covert Violation? Voluntary second and third degree?”
“That was for my friend!” they argued. “They’re unempowered. They needed–”
“Assault of empowered citizens? Second degree?”
He saw their lips curl in a snarl. “Those assholes had it coming! They were going to–”
David cut them off. “Reckless endangerment of empowered citizens?”
“That’s an exaggeration!” their voice rose in frustration. “Those are trumped up charges based on–!”
“Failure to Report to Designated Empowered Education Facility.”
“Gabe said he would take care of that. That I didn’t need–”
“And finally, another Covert violation. In the first degree! What the hell were you thinking?!”
For once, David was met with silence. His eyes searched their face, waiting for yet another excuse to tumble out of their mouth.
Their lips thinned, their voice wavering as they finally answered.
“They…they were my friend. They took their memories. I couldn’t…”
“Just. Stop.”
David pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning back in the chair. He was not in the right headspace to hear their excuses. He was tired.
“Maybe my father might have given you some leeway, but now? Whatever shit you’ve landed yourself in? Needs to end. Now.”
David watched their body stiffen at his words, their fists clenched tightly to their sides. He could tell they were making every effort to keep their mouth shut. Good. At least they had some self preservation skills intact.
“Once I get my father’s affairs in order, you and I are going to pay a visit to the Department. Whatever sentence you need to serve, you serve it. Whatever fines you need to pay, you pay it. Whatever classes you need to take, you take it. The last thing I need is for you to be an undue burden on the rest of the pack. Do I make myself clear?”
A tense silence hung in the air.
An imperceptible change shifted in their eyes at his statement. Whatever apprehension they once had, evaporated. Now replaced with a cold, steely glare.
Without a word, they shook their head in disbelief before turning to walk away. Not before slamming his father’s door closed behind them. The force of which sent several papers stacked on one of the nearby filing cabinets fluttering to the ground.
Great. Another mess to clean up.
David stood from the desk to retrieve the fallen papers. The last thing he needed was for someone to accidentally tread on an important document. Kneeling on the floor, he agitatedly snatched up the papers one by one. However, one particular document caught his eye.
Wait…this was.
The lease contract deal. On it, was proof that his father had already paid the office lease through the remainder of the year. David gripped the paper tightly.
That fucking rat of a landlord was planning on squeezing an extra few months rent out of him. Hoping to take advantage of the upheaval his father’s death had surely caused. Oh if that’s how it was, David was more than willing to rake him across the coals. Quite possibly in the literal sense.
Regardless, a small sense of relief washed over him. He wouldn’t have to worry about his father’s enterprise being taken to the cleaners. With that sense of relief however, regret began to filter into his mind as he thought back to his recent shouting match with his packmate.
David sighed. It wasn’t his best moment. Operating on a combination of caffeine, anxiety, and grief did not lend itself well to David’s actions, no matter how well intentioned.
He would apologize to his packmate tomorrow, and have a proper talk with them. His nerves were so frayed, it would be best to have a chance to recharge before saying anything he might regret later.
With that, he clicked the light off in his father’s office. He’d spend the rest of the night on the leather couch. He was in dire need of some shut eye. There were still a few hours left until Asher and Marie would arrive in the morning.
—-
Two years.
It had been almost two years since David had last heard from his packmate.
He glanced at his phone. Scrolling through pages of outgoing calls and unanswered texts.
He wasn’t going to give up, not while he still lived and breathed. He redialed their number once again, unsurprised as it quickly went to voicemail.
“Hey…it’s David. I’m hoping you haven’t blocked my number.”
An awkward silence followed as he wrestled with what else he wanted to say.
“...I’ve had the Department dismiss all of your charges. Most were found to be erroneous and in bad faith…they’ve been removed from your record.”
Another pause, before he let the guilt creep into his voice.
“I should have listened. I just…I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything. Just…come back home. The pack misses you, and...uh...I miss you.”
“In any event, be safe—”
*click*
Without hearing the rest of the message, the renegade Shifter quickly deleted the voicemail.
“Family troubles?” Quinn tutted sympathetically.
“You could say that,” they responded with an emotionless tone. “Though I don’t consider them family. He needs to learn to let go.”
“And yet you still keep his number?” the vampire pointed out with vague amusement.
They lowered their phone in silent contemplation before responding.
“Well, just like you say. Old habits die hard.”