Silent Witness
Harry/Nikki
Forgotten Son
The hand entwined in mines does not respond. It's gentle warmth only coming from the vital equipment that are breathing him life. As I slowly touch the slight stubble at the refined jaw line.
His unconscious state remaining oblivious to me as the palm of my hand stays put not willing to give up on him yet that my work colleague, friend and practical soul mate and the individual who managed to fake his own death more than successfully.
Might not get out of this one - and as per usual he had brought it on himself trying to bring the world to rights, trying to bring the person he thought responsible down alone and that from the first beat.
The autopsy of an unknown stranger had brought strong memories of his father back. A suicide that had ended up not being a suicide at all Harry deciphering that on a hunch alone something that had worried Leo immediately.
With the professionalism and calmness that usually goes hand in hand with any autopsy not being there. That if anything he had been on edge beforehand and that what had driven us to this point and this hospital bed was evidently something from his own past.
That dead stranger in the autopsy who reminded him off his father only being the catalyst to what those soulful pools that now lie closed to me had been trying desperately to tell me.
Even if he could not talk about it his body language and uncharacteristic silence around both my self and Leo had held all the clues necessary. Leo like an over protective father, to a caged son and my own unspoken bond one that went far and beyond friendship. Had not reached across the unspoken barrier that Harry had surrounded himself with.
As my thoughts now leap back to the present feeling the fragile life ebbing away slowly thinking about that heart murmur what had stopped him becoming a pilot and it had critically added to the delicate thread his life was now hanging by.
My hand slowly now realising from his as I take in the strong profile, where my other hand lies at the jaw before touching the brow and temple to run gently through the thick dark rich hair.
His leanness more apparent now, the handsome features pale and translucent what the other part of me knows only to well as being a very bad sign. That his death is nearing and there is no sign he is fighting this mighty enemy who will take him like all the others from my life.
As I once more reach for the strong gentle hand finding a smile as I do so trying to reach him before it is indeed to late
TO BE CONTINUED