Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lance was hungry. The men have left long ago but he still hasn't moved from his place on the ground. The hot air pressed down his tongue, infusing it with the taste of salt and metal. Another drop of sweat got into his eyes. He wet his lips and felt cracked skin and more metal. The pictures on the wall in front of him were toppled on the floor and there was a spot of blood on the doorframe and a trail of blood leading into the kitchen, probably long gone cold now. Unfeeling, he stood up to search for his family.

…

Lance hummed as he put make-up on the dead man. The family should be here in an hour and then the final preparations should be completed before any of the guests arrived. This fella was a good one. He was an army sergeant but as far as Lance knows members of all ranks wanted to come here and honor the deceased, not to mention all the relatives and the beautiful family of five he left behind. Lance carefully brushed his cheeks to put a little "life" in him. After the final touches he slowly brushes the man's hair and puts a little gel in it for appearances, nothing too fancy. This was his favourite part. It was like waving the body goodbye, even if the soul has been long gone - Lance wanted to give his own thanks for the parting of such amazing human beings. He finished just at the end of the song and he started whistling another one as he made a round around the venue to look over all the flowers and seats. After all, both the dead and the living deserve only the best care in this crucial moment.

The family arrived soon after. His wife passed away 3 years before him, so his daughter has taken over the organization. They pulled up in a small minivan and the 2 little kids almost immediately started exploring. They looked curious, if not a little bored and puzzled as to why they were here. Their bigger sibling was silent, but Lance guessed it's just because he picked it up from his parents. Children are empathic but don't understand stuff like that. That's why he's always liked them. Lance went over to the two small brothers and sister and started entertaining them while the parents looked around before going towards the coffin. The big brother joined them in a game of "I spy". Soon enough the guests started pooling in. The funeral went as smoothly as a funeral goes. The family stayed closely together and the children huddled around their mother who started crying a little into the event. She delivered the eulogy and everyone took their turns shaking hands with the husband and wife and expressing their condolences. Then the guests left and Lance saw off the family and the close friends that stayed after. Then they went to celebrate.

That was the most important part of his job. He also did cremation and caskets. And he also did unofficial autopsy reports for the insufferable and ambitious private detective. Keith was his name. He always acted above social interactions and basic conversational rules were unknown to him. The day he met him Keith just stormed in, looked around the lobby disapprovingly and asked about Stanley Demice, one of Lance's latest patients. No "Hello" no nothing. And when Lance insisted on some kind of certification or anything he just looked at him that he was a particularly ugly bug in his way. So Lance pulled up some petty bureaucratic shit and sent him away. Only to see him trying to sneak in after closing hours. Genuinely, what was wrong with him.

So he let him in. After two days he saw in the newspaper that the seemingly innocent case of tetanus that killed Demice turned out to be murder. And then Lance let him in again, when he demanded to see the next body. And he did it again and again. He helped him, but never without complaining and irritating the other male.

Like claiming that Keith had a fetish for dead old balding men because the last three bodies all fit this category.

"Lance, what the fuck."

"Hey, don't worry. Usually I would report you but I know you have some connections there. That's why you keep breaking and entering into people's places."

"I don't actually do that… Often."

He pouts as Lance laughed at him and the longer he went on the more Keith looked like he was about to punch Lance.

"Okay, okay. But man, you have very awkward timing. He's set up to be cremated in like 15 minutes. I can give you the report I did."

"Not that I don't trust you, but I would prefer if I could do my own analysis."

"Hey, I take offense. I'm a professional. And I always make a thorough report of every case. I really can't let you open him up now."

"It's not going to take long. And you'll just burn him after that anyways. What does it matter if he's not that proper."

"First of all, never say that to anyone else that works here. Or like any person, at all. Sure, we do autopsies but we should always respect the death. And second of all, no can do. Sorry Keith. I took pictures, if that helps."

Keith grumbled but complied and let Lance give him the file before leaving in a rush.

That was the good thing about keeping the detective close. Even if Keith was a stubborn idiot he listened to everything Lance said. That was good, as Lance still had some unfinished work on the body.

…

The blood was an ugly brown color, infused into the wood of the floor. There were scratch marks on the walls leading into the kitchen. Just as he was in front of the kitchen door Lance looked on towards the open space of the living room. The small table in front of the couch was flipped over and the couch's pillows have wound up on various parts of the room. There was broken glass near the dining table and some of the shining pieces were painted red. The carpet was in disarray. Lance went over to the window and looked outside. The sand was lazily pushed around by the wind and the vast blue of the ocean was visible from their house. Like always. The only sign of human life were the path of tires that the dust still hasn't covered up. Soon everything will be buried.

Chapter Text

The first bite had Lance retching. The blood almost too easily flooded his mouth and went down his throat, coating it in a warm ooze. It was the smooth muscle that didn't want to go down past his mouth. It was wrong. It was so wrong. But then his eyes focused once again to see spilled guts and other body fluids decorating the kitchen floor. He reached down to save another piece.

…

Lance gave up and with a sign set the spoon down. It was one of those days, where just the sight of food made him sick but also there was this after taste of salt, dirt and metal on his tongue, so he spent entire days downing cup after cup of some flavored fluid. Right now he was on his second bottle of iced tea from the vending machine and the documentation of dead bodies was doing nothing for his appetite. He was just noting down the contents of the stomach of an old lady, who died after she fell down in her struggle to reach a book from the highest shelf, when the door burst open to reveal Keith. He was walking towards Lance with big purposeful strikes and one of his smug smirks that showed only after a completed challenge from Lance. Lance put his pen down and (very) patiently waited to hear what Keith had to brag about.

"I solved that case even with your ass making it difficult for me."

And he took out his notebook to explain in detail how he noticed from the file Lance gave him that he was on antidepressants, which wasn't surprising as the interviews with the deceased showed that he has had mental health issues for a long time now and he had a psychiatrist. However, a talk with the specialist revealed that their latest correspondence has been through email and text messages, sometimes calls, due to the patient's declining physical health. However the forensic analysis didn't hint at any long-term physiological issues that would hinder Mr.Demice's everyday life, so his attention turned to his closest caretakers. And Keith talked and failed to contain his excitement and pride, as he didn't look away from Lance's face to catch any miniature expression. And Lance really tried to push down the smile that was threatening to show because he knew that the first thing he has to do is find some way to tease him. Because it was weird how engrossed with the man he is and the way he was genuinely happy about how the solved case brought a shine to Keith's eyes. And it was sickening, the way Lance felt Keith's wish to impress him and how he ate it up like a starving man, wishing to see this expression again and again. To bring more and more bodies.

"How's that for an impossible case."

"Obviously it was not impossible. I had it all written down."

"You had what written down?! You didn't do anything."

"But I did. I wrote about the antidepressants in my analysis, didn't I."

"Yes, but—"

"So I solved it. God, you're so slow, mullet."

"This isn't you solving it! You're stupid."

"I sound pretty smart actually. I basically just handed you over a cheat sheet and you just copied what I wrote. Stupid."

"That's so not how it works."

Keith was trying not to shout but Lance could see how he was about to burst any second.

"Well, since we're soon going to hear in the news about MY case, how about I take you out on a drink."

Lance smiled with the audacity of a man and winked at Keith. Keith in return just rolled his eyes and scoffed before heading towards the door.

"Don't be stupid. The drinks are on me."

That brought back the smile that Lance didn't even notice had fallen and he ruthlessly abandoned the old woman's report to catch up.

Lance's stomach still shriveled up at the thought of holding food. But he easily drank beer from Keith's pocket money and when Keith's burger arrived, he leaned over from time to time to steal from his fries and have him shout at him only for Lance to shut him up in a murderous silence when he reached over and smeared ketchup on his cheek. After that Keith threw a handful of fries at him and Lance returned the favour and by the time the waiter came over to kick them out Lance had smacked Keith in the face with lettuce and Keith painted his face red with tomatoes. Lance doubted that Keith managed to eat but as he watched him snicker with sauce still sticking to his cheek he hoped he felt the same fullness and flutter in his stomach as Lance.

…

Lance quickly reached and took another garlic knot before his Mama noticed and smacked it out of his hand. She brought it on, he thinks. After all she knows these are his favourites. He bit into the bread and felt the garlic infused butter dance atop his taste buds. The bread itself was soft as a pillow and he relished in the buttery heaven only intensified by the spices. By instinct he looked to his left towards Rachel to check if she was about to make an attack towards his plate, however, he found her engrossed in her own heaven. She was popping meat filled potato balls like candy as she drowned them in another spoonful of sauce. In front of him Veronica politely declined the offered alcohol and Lance had to hide a smile as their eyes met from across the table. Lance knew that she was still recovering from the previous night's fun that had her falling into their bushes and crawling towards the back entrance where Lance let her in.

"Come on. Eat a little meat, Lance."

He reluctantly accepted the food, but still readily bites into the tender flesh.

Lance really misses his family.

Chapter Text

Lance jerked awake as sudden as a doe hearing a gunshot. The shirt stuck to his skin and it felt cold, but his face was burning up and he couldn't breathe and he couldn't see and—

Lance was staring at the plain white wall as his breaths started to calm down. The icon and cross at the upper right corner were dark smudges in his blurry vision. He turned towards the bedside table and drank from the water bottle he always prepared before bed. There is also a plastic basin under the bed, just in case. Lance looked out towards the window. The curtains mostly obscured the outside world but it was still obvious that it was far from sunrise hours. He stood up and pushed apart the curtains before opening the window. He lay on the floor in front of it and watched as the moon progressively got dimmer and the sky progressively lighter and alive with colour. Lance had to get ready for work.

Lance hummed to himself as he though about what his face would look like after he dies. He doesn't actually have to wonder. The body fluids would be drained from his body and instead his blood vessels would be pumped with embalming fluid. He will look normal, just asleep and very very pale. Now if a skilled hand such as his would put on just a little concealer and blush he would just be sleeping. But this is not always what happens. Maybe his skin will get shriveled up and the animals would get to his eyes and he will ooze with infection and maggots and the cavities of his body will cave in and become the breeding group of insects.

Lance checks over the face of the deceased before deeming his work satisfiable and backing away. He really wanted to close himself in his lab and do incisions after incisions to watch dead flesh make way for muscles, ligaments and bones. Even now, as he stared into the face of the old woman, his hands itched to open her up just to see and caress her insides. But she lay peaceful and he would never do that to someone who raised 4 children as a single mother and now lay there ready for their eternal rest. He was becoming a glutton.

The fact that he couldn't be able to see Keith today also wasn't contributing to his mood. Lance knew that they have accepted a body found at the river bank, kilometers away from the nearest bridge. The body was bloated and some of the skin from the cadaver's limps had fallen off when the police officers were retrieving it. And Lance had a funeral to prepare and that meant that Griffin would do the autopsy and he won't come to Lance to pester him about having "just a quick look" at the body.

He crossed the woman's hands on top of her chest and caressed her hair. A deep guilt settled into him. To think that he for a moment forgot that his first and foremost job is to take care of the dead. That this was where his heart was set. He took one of her hands and gingerly kissed it as an apology. Keith is not important. Now to sent her down six feet under.

The funeral was schedules for the late afternoon, close to the evening. There weren't many people, but while it wasn't an open casket funeral Lance knew that she looked beautiful as they were lowering her into the ground. Each guest took a turn throwing a handful of soil on top of the casket and then made space for the workers. Lance himself also took a shovel and started filling the grave beside the workers. One of them gave him a nod of acknowledgement, already familiar with Lance. Lance returned the gesture before he got lost into the rhythmic motions of burying, the sound of soil falling and the burning in his hands. After she was berried for good all of the people left slowly still in the aftermath of the sorrowful event. All but one older woman who sat on the edge of the grave. Lance didn't know what the deceased was to the woman, it never mattered. He wished he could burst through the ground and give her a piece of her, to keep and to cherish. But he knew that everyone had their own personal peculiarity of grieving. Lance quickly left the hunched over women with the body of the one she loved.

His stoic gaze almost skipped over Keith's figure before he startled and looked towards the lounge chair of the funeral home. There Keith sat as the image of impatience as he looked straight at Lance with furrowed eyebrows and a promise to give him hell for making him wait. Still, surprisingly he didn't jump Lance immediately after her entered the building but instead stood still and waited for Lance's reaction.

Lance didn't really want to bother. Not right now, when the image of the woman hunched over the grave flashed through his mind and her hidden face left all to his imagination - was she silently crying, was her face devoid of expression, were her eyes screaming. But he still found his legs taking him towards Keith.

"Are always so somber after a funeral. I don't see it, you know. You're always so annoying and you see dead people everyday."

Any other day that would have cracked Lance up. "See dead people everyday". Yeah, that was the case precisely. But Lance still forced a smile on his face that he hoped resembled his usual annoying one.

"Yeah, and you would have thought that you hate people given that your job is to find out how they kill each other. Oh wait, you do hate people."

"I don't hate people."

Keith mumbled and his mouth lowered into a pout. This was good. But Keith wasn't actually rising to his bait and his eyebrows were furrowed more so in concern and not anger and actually his cute pout was closer to a grimace. And Lance was also very close to grimacing because why couldn't he just play along and why did Lance even have to play along. What was wrong with him? Actually what was wrong with Keith and every other person who wasn't on the floor and bawling and being crushed by the force of the sorrow that the earth holds?

"I do hate Griffin, though. I almost walked straight out when I saw him at the front desc. I still asked for you but then I found out that you had a funeral today. I tried asking him, nicely, to see the body of the drowned woman. But then he opened his mouth and I don't even remember what he said. Probably something completely normal but in a very annoying way. I didn't punch him. But I also didn't see the body. So, yeah…"

This was the longest thing Keith has ever said to him. Keith doesn't ramble. He also doesn't comfort people. For sure not Lance. He doesn't really know what Keith was doing. Lance knew that he looked off, but not upset. But Keith was still looking at him with furrowed brows and his hand on top of his thigh twitched and Lance wondered if it had wished to touch him. Keith doesn't look like he himself wanted to continue speaking or does Lance think that he would handle another round of rambling, so he took a shot.

"Do you want me to sneak you into the morgue to have a look?"

"That wasn't what I was going for", that had Keith pausing and mumbling," but sure."

That was… more like it. He turned around and walked out of the building, the staff would finish tidying up and he can take care of any left-over documentation later. When Lance got to his car he turned around to look at Keith in question, but he spoke before he could even ask.

"My bike is over there. I'll just race you back."

Of course Mullet had a bike. And of course he wanted to prove that he was faster and better than Lance.

Keith was speeding past him before Lance could even have the chance to get in his car. He quickly slammed the door soon after and started driving after him, in a considerable speed but faster than how he usually drove. At the last stop light Lance spotted Keith's mullet peaking out from beneath his helmet and at last he cracked a smile without even realizing it. It was gone the moment he exited from his car and a fresh forced one was on when he met Keith outside .

"You ready to have your pants blown off, mullet?"

"For the last time, I am not into dead people—"

Lance had already turned the keys and entered through the back door reserved for staff members. They crept along the corridors until they reached the turn that leaded towards the lobby. Then Lance carefully took a peak. He found Griffin on the lounge chair, heavily invested in a conversation. Lance could guess with who. It was probably his on and off girlfriend and judging by Griffin's excuses and flustered expression it was exactly her. Lance smiled lightly and without a word led Keith by the arm towards the opposite direction. Soon they found themselves in front of the morgue and they both cleaned themselves and got equipped before Lance took out the body.

The woman stood in the middle of the room in what Lance could imagine is absolute coldness. The metal table only intensified the still blood and made every bruising on the pale skin look like it perforated the fragile paper canvas, when it reality it just stripped the other tissues and cavities naked of life, until everything was either gone or in a continuous state of degradation. Although for this corpse some other force had put its hands first on the naked body. The water had forcefully seeped through the pores of human's biggest organ and swelled the flesh up so much that everything has burst out of order. Blood escaped veins and washed over organs, fibers snapped at the pressure of holding everything together and now the skin was as if enlarged and jelly-like. The outer layer was shining with moisture and budding plasma. The lungs were filled with a sluggish fluid that splashed on Keith's protection glasses as he cut open an alveolus. The woman had scratches on the forehead, knees and feet, which Keith spent a lot of time observing before moving onto her clothes which were kept in a closed evidence bad.

Lance lost any semblance of time after Keith moved on to the closes. He was looking at the gummy corpse without truly seeing anything other than glue-like white with flashes of purple and beaten-up red. A sudden touch on his elbow made him jump up and accidentally fall to the flood. He quickly looked up to see Keith's, perhaps equally, startled expression. Keith quickly held his hands up as he cautiously took a small step back.

"Sorry for scaring you. I'm done."

Lance didn't reply so he and Keith looked in each others' eyes for a moment. Keith's gaze was searching and Lance was just mapping Keith's face with no real thought or agenda. Finally Keith opened his mouth again.

"Do you want to have dinner with me?"

"Why?"

Lance looked towards his clock. 8:37 pm. Why was is so early?

"No reason. I just want you to."

"And what are we going to eat?"

"We could go to the nearby Indian restaurant. There's also a Mexican restaurant no far from here. Or we can just go to KFC. Whatever you like. I can drive us there."

"I'm Cuban, not Mexican."

That was so pathetic. Lance wished that it was later so he had an excuse to reject Keith's offer made of pity. Be he also couldn't have Keith worrying and looking too much into Lance's business. He also just hated the look of Keith's face right now.

"Okay. Let's go to KFC."

They drove on Keith's motorcycle and Lance managed to hold on to Keith's waist even if his fingers felt stiff with coldness. Lance felt the heat radiating from Keith's back straight into his chest and it kickstarted his heart into beating fast again. It burned.

They got to the KFC and Lance spent the whole time wolfing down chicken wing after chicken wing. It was good that he didn't have to talk with Keith. But also Lance was so hungry.