Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Heavy Rain characters and stuff, yadda yadda.

Soup Kitchen

Carter Blake certainly didn't have a reputation as a good or kind-hearted man, and he certainly didn't think it did anyone any favours to be thought of as a good or kind-hearted man.

That's why, every Sunday, he went out of his way to travel from Philadelphia to Boston to volunteer at the soup kitchen there, where he didn't know anyone, and had no ties. This Sunday was no exception.

"Goddamned traffic..." Blake growled, as he sat in the motionless car. Inching forward, he sighed at the seemingly never-ending stream of traffic. He'd never make it in time now... He was gonna have to ring and cancel. Picking up his phone, Blake turned his head to look for any police cars about. Whilst he could get up to pretty much whatever he liked in his precinct, there were certainly people out there who wouldn't mind putting him down just for a little call on the phone... Plenty was in fact an understatement. Especially after he arrested Ethan Mars in the Origami Killer case... Double especially after Mars had decided to go public with his story to the newspapers... Including the, eh... 'questioning time' he had beaten into Ethan... he'd only just escaped out of that one with his career. In all fairness he couldn't really blame the guy... He'd have done a lot worse to himself if he'd been in Ethan's shoes. He pushed the thoughts aside, as he scanned the road and the lay-bys to see no cop cars about. There was one car in the lay-by, but only one guy in it. Not the police... He pulled out his phone, and punched in the numbers, making the call to the Boston soup kitchen.

"Hi. Yea, Faye? It's me, Carter. Look, I'm sorry but there's shitloads of traffic, I'm not going to be able to make it... Yea. Yea, I know. Again. Oh, you heard about that too? Fuckin' great... Yea, not the best thing that's ever..." Blake trailed off as he saw the guy from the car in the lay-by get out and start walking towards him. Oh shit, maybe he was one of the Boston cops after all? Before Blake could follow this thought any further, the man stumbled over nothing, fell, and landed splat on his face. Right in the middle of the road. "What the?!" Carter exclaimed. "Faye, I'm gonna have to go, now. Speak soon..." he cut off the phone and picked up his gun from under his seat, well aware this man could be armed and dangerous for all he knew. Not to mention drugged up to the eyeballs by the look of him...

He'd have to be quick. Even though the traffic was slow, the car in the other lane was gassing on the phone, and yelling at her kids in the back, she obviously hadn't seen the guy's head in the path of her wheels. Even going at ten miles per hour like she was now, assuming she didn't speed up, if she went over his head the poor guy stood no chance.

Scooting across the seat to the other side, Blake took a deep breath, and slammed the door open, and hurled himself into the road feet first, catching the other guy in the head with his feet, and more or less kicking him onto the grass at the side, out of the path of the car.

Blake, however, wasn't so lucky. As the car sped towards him, (fucking traffic had cleared, just his fucking luck!) he hurled himself out of its way, but it caught his leg, dislocating his ankle.

"Fuck!" Blake yelled in pain, shaking his fist at the speeding away car, the one-finger salute she showed at him either showing she had very poor upbringing, or she thought Blake was a fucking junkie. Whatever the case, Blake was obviously the one (slightly) less worse off. He half-rolled, half-kicked the other man into the recovery position, wincing at the pain in his foot.

"Fuck, fucking pansy isn't fucking breathing." he growled under his breath. He hated, absolutely hated doing Mouth-to-Mouth Resuscitation and now it was his day off, and he still seemed to get lumbered with the fucking drunks and stoners. He rolled the guy onto his back, and stared at what, or rather, who he saw. Norman Jayden.

"Norman fucking Jayden?!" he yelled out loud. But he had no time to waste. As he checked the guy's airways for obstructions, and tilted his head back, he thought angrily about how the guy was still ruining his fucking life, even when he wasn't working at the damned precinct any more. A treacherous thought entered his head.

He was going to have to kiss the guy that had accused him of being the Origami Killer.

"Ah, fuck it... Can't fucking let him die..." Carter said with a hint of disappointment in his voice. He bent in to give Jayden Mouth-to-Mouth, and just as suddenly as he had stopped breathing, Norman started breathing again, and threw up all down his shirt, and a fair proportion of Carter Blake's beard.

When his eyes had focused, he saw the bright-red face of Carter Blake (mostly covered in puke), he groaned.

"Oh, not you again. You're not real. GO 'WAY."

Carter dragged the seemingly inebriated man up against his own car, and slammed his head against the door.

"I'm as real as it gets." He growled. "Now you'd better tell me what the fuck is going on."