SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL.
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Please Note:
I am not a writer I'm an artist, I paint, so the grammar will be terrible, you'll find I love a good long run on sentence, and I throw full stops in where ever I please. I call it artistic licence...
I own Nothing.
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There's something beautiful about Joseph Chandler, Something besides his obvious good looks. It's in the smooth length of his back in his perfectly fitted suit jacket and the shine of the shoes he polishes himself, It's the fire and determination he carries with him whilst at the same time portraying a delicate elegance not often associated with a man of his standing. From the second he'd arrived Kent had been unable to keep his eyes from him.
As a child Kent had dreamt of a stranger coming to take him away, perhaps it had been hope, that in a world where no one seemed to understand him this man would come and help him escape the monotony, he'd listen to him and care for him and promise him some day he wouldn't feel so painfully alone. He no longer remembers what this romanticised figure from his childhood fantasies looked like but lately he's beginning to believe he may have had blue eyes and blonde hair.
Kent's not sure whether it's possible to have loved someone longer than you've known them.
Chandler's always aware of when things are starting to spiral out of control because two things happen. He uses his tiger balm more often and he takes Kent with him everywhere he goes. He can't remember when it started and he's sure Miles has noticed but the DS doesn't mention it and for that he's grateful.
The way the DC falls into step with him is empowering, just having that one person besides him makes him feel like he has an army. He finds he stands closer to him when he's feeling unsure of himself and he knows Kent's aware because, whether it's when he's standing over a body or speaking to a witness, whenever he stumbles he feels the shadow of his DC standing closer than manners dictate silently supporting him and spurring him on. When it's getting too much there's a small touch to his forearm suggesting they should leave.
In the office Chandler likes his space in times like these, times when the chaos threatens to take over, but the overly tidy incident room and the constant supply of green tea Kent silently leaves on the corner of his desk help to keep the demons at bay.
As he looks out through the glass Kent raises his brows, an unspoken question in his eyes, are you all right?. The slightest of nods and a barely there smile in return is enough to confirm that he will be.
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And then the case is over, and the office quiet and everything goes back to normal.
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Since the Brookes case things have been different for Kent, when he's tired he can't hide the limp and he finds himself getting tired quickly lately. He tries to keep up and he tries to act unaffected, he buries it deep inside and pretends to forget.
It's worse when he's on his own, when he's on his own it envelopes him like a cloud he often times can't see his way out of, it comes with a throbbing deep inside his brain that seems to have the ability to interfere with his thought process. He's sure Miles has noticed but the DS doesn't mention it and for that he's grateful. He doesn't want to be a burden.
His hands tremble now when he's under pressure. He's been told its psychosomatic. He can't seem to stop it.
It takes the DI longer then it should to notice.
Kent can tell the moment that he does.
An almost constant presence appears at his shoulder, sometimes leaning next to him while he reviews CCTV footage, sometimes that little too close behind him when he's examining the board, always ghosting around him and never far away. The DIs office door is always propped open now.
The later it gets in the day the slower Chandler walks, Kent doesn't ache so much when he doesn't have to rush which is fortunate now that they go almost everywhere together. He thinks Kent looks lonely somehow so he tries to keep him busy, tries to keep him involved.
He knows how much it hurts to be lost inside yourself, to wallow away in darkness when no one is looking.
He deals away his self respect for all the interesting cases just so the boy won't get bored.
When there's even the slightest hostility from a suspect Chandler's standing in front of him, when he's interviewing witnesses Chandler's always in his line of sight. There are encouraging nods and comfortable silences and a small touch to the hand to still quivering fingers.
There's a small tub of tiger balm pressed in to his palm, 'It'll help with the headaches', and as the container's already half empty and the DI leaves at lunch and returns with a new one it doesn't take a detective to realise he's gone all morning without.
On the occasions he has to go out on his own, and he does it gladly because it's his job, he always returns to Riley trying badly to conceal a smirk and a fresh cappuchino waiting on his desk.
As he looks in through the glass Chandler raises his brows, an unspoken question in his eyes, are you alright?. The slightest of nods and a barely there smile in return is enough to confirm that he will be.
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