Even at 3 am Bellevue is a buzz with activity, with the ER filled with a mix of nurses, orderlies and bloody patients, as both detectives make their way thought the throng of people. Al flashes his badge at a weary security guard as he walks by not waiting to get an Okay to venture into the OR wing.
Both men are stopped shortly after entering the wing by a short doctor in scrubs, "Sorry boys but he's in the middle of surgery right now and it's a little touch and go at the moment so any questions you have for him will have to wait for quite a while…"
Kiku pulls out his notebook and flips to a new page, "Is there anything you can tell us before you go back in?"
He nods rubbing his hands together, "Well, if he does live he'll be paralyzed from the waist down, and we were able to remove the knife. We'll make sure one of your boys gets it but that's all I can tell you for now." With that, he turns back around and walks back into one of the nearby rooms.
Kiku doesn't look up from his writing as he asks, "What do you want to do now?"
He looks up to see Alfred dialing quickly as the phone goes to his ear, "I want to know who this new player is."
With his tea finally done Arthur goes back to his laptop, humming to himself as he pulls up the file also trying to ignore the fairy floating around his head. He sighs for a moment, "What?" He turns towards the female creature.
It blinks before letting out a giggle, "I like that Alfred, we should keep him for a long time…but I don't like this case. It's too bloody."
Arthur doesn't swat it away knowing all too well the damn thing not really there, "Whatever…" He wants kick himself though for even talking to it, he knows better than to pay any attention to his hallucinations yet he still finds himself in conversation with them.
He rubs his temples, how many times has Alfred caught him talking to air? And it's not just Alfred but Peter's caught him doing it too, at least Karen hasn't even though Alfred would just say it's Daddy's imaginary friends…
He quickly grabs for his now ringing phone, "Yes love?" He knows only one person would call him this early.
Again, the fairy above his head giggles, "Aww you called him Love. That's so sweet." She blows him a kiss and he swats her away.
"What is it?" He hears Alfred sigh over the phone, these late nights and little sleep are getting to his lover and he can tell, "Alfred?"
Alfred fakes a cough, "Nothing…" He pauses wondering if he should ask Arthur for help, not that he really needs it but it would make Arthur feel better so, what the hell, "I was wondering if you ever hear the name Bonnefoy?"
Even the fairy leans in close to the phone as Arthur's eyes grow wide, "As in Francis Bonnefoy?" The fairy shakes it's head almost sighing as he says it, "Alfred if it's who I think it is…fuck what is he doing in the states?" He knows Francis well; he is the one that got him arrested on raping all those small schoolchildren seven years before after all. He can still remember all the faces, each one a small blond-haired child with large blue eyes and angelic faces, "He made them call him Papa…"
Alfred blinks unsure what's going on at the other end, "Made who call him Papa?" He regrets asking the instant he says it, knowing it might trigger something deep in Arthur's mind. Fairies and flying mint bunny things he can handle, large evil demons telling him to kill is another. "Arthur are you still there?"
"Yeah I'm here…" Arthur types rapidly on his laptop, "I'm sending it to your phone…I think or at least your email." He presses send shaking his head, it took two years to get Francis the first time and even then, it was hard to make it stick. The Frenchman has money not to mention friends in both low and high places.
Strange though Francis's type while does vary in ages he doesn't go around killing his victims…although many have 'commented suicide' over the years. This really is not his style, besides none of the victims were sexually assaulted at least to his knowledge, "Alfred, were any of the men raped?"
Alfred just stares at the phone, it finally clicking what Arthur's first statement meant, "No, and before you ask Iggy I mean nothing was found in or around their…um…you know." He rubs his forehead feeling his face go a slight red. Walking slowly away from his partner he looks down at the phone this is one area he has never really felt comfortable talking about even after all these years of working homicide.
He hears Arthur on the other end, "Ok, fine. And you know it's ok to say it, I mean-"
Alfred quickly cuts him off, "I know it's ok to say that something found up their ass…shit just thanks Iggy I'll look up Bonnefoy later. Go back to bed and I will talk to you later. Bye."
The British man lets out a laugh; he always finds it funny that his big strong cop actually doesn't like to talk about anything involving sex. Well that isn't completely true, he's fine when it comes to them in the bedroom but if it came to anything slightly different or strange Alfred's face was as red as an tomato.
He pulls up the file he was just in looking around just in case, only finding just the fairy watching over his shoulder. He has to keep these files away from the sneaky little eyes of his son. His son's been through enough in the past five years and this is the last thing he wants Peter reading.
He was surprised at first when Alfred learned he had kids that he instantly was not only ok with it but also let them move in with him. In fact, the only thing that surprised the father more was that his ex-wife gave him sole custody, although it was only so if Peter or Karen inherited his illness she wouldn't have to deal with them.
The fairy gets in his face, "Focus Britain!" Her small hand slaps him across the face and he swears he can feel it, "What would you do if you didn't have me here, honestly."
His brow lowers and he just about grows at the flying annoyance, "Stop calling me that and if you weren't here I'd probably be better off now shut up or I'll get my meds." That quiets the creature who slowly falls to sit on the table.
Quickly his nimble fingers start to type, deep in thought. Something doesn't feel right about this killer. How he kills feels more like a movie killer than anything else. He sighs looking back at his empty tea cup, he's going to need more if he is going to get to the bottom of this, not that he would be able to sleep anyway.
