Chapter Fourteen: Promises

He whistled while he took the pictures. The silence of the secluded crime scene was enough to make anyone feel nervous, antsy, especially with one look at the body. The camera flash lit up the dark shadows of the room. Another picture. He tried not to think too hard about how loud it must have been when the murder was going down. The screams of the victim vibrating off the brick walls. Stepping around a splattering of blood he snapped another picture. These were scenes that he should have grown used to by now but still, he was happy to have skipped lunch. He figured that no matter how many times he walked into a crime scene he would always feel that slight bout of nausea at seeing what used to be a living, breathing human being now nothing more than a shell. At least bodies were nothing new to him. He knew how to deal with a body. Used to be that by the time a body reached him the violence was whittled down to nothing more than a few wounds, maybe some bruises and scratches.

"Hey Hawkes," Aidan's voice broke through his thoughts causing him to jump about six feet. So deep in his mind and focused on his work he had not heard the sound of her shoes as she approached. At the sight of him startled she giggled. "Bit jumpy today, huh?"

He watched as she walked into the room, crime kit in hand, giving the place a cursory looking over. Hawkes could tell by the look on her face that she having the same thoughts that crossed his mind when he first showed up. This was going to be one of those crimes scenes that sucked up the rest of their day, probably forced them work into the evening hours, maybe even over night. They had a lot to document, a lot of potential evidence to collect.

"This place is kind of creepy," he remarked.

"Definitely," Aidan confirmed as she settled her kit near his. "Where do you want me to start?"

He shrugged. "Beats the hell out of me. Pick an option. You can dust for prints, collect blood swabs. Find the missing piece of the victim..."

This time he tried not to smile as she shuddered. "Dismemberment. Why do some of them have to pick that as their means? Don't they realize the mess they're leaving behind for us?"

"Think of the vital clues this blood might have covered up."

"How about not."

He smiled, happy to finally have some company. At least there was a small consolation prize, the corner's assistance had already been by to get the body. He had enjoyed their presence for the short time they were there, somewhat dismayed when they left him alone in the bloody room. Sure he could hear the occasional squawk from the radio of the patrol officer standing in the hall but it just wasn't the same. With only one way in and out of the room he felt trapped in a bloodied box. Without another word the two of them got down to work.

Hours later they were still at work when Adam walked into the room. Up until actually entering the room they could hear him out in the hall singing just loud enough to be heard. The words to the song died on his lips as he walked into the room, saw the degree of horror. A visible shudder ran through his body. To see the lab tech at the crime scene was a bad sign. It meant that Stella was still working her current case and that Mac had his hands full with Flack. Hawkes frowned, not liking the idea that Flack was starting to be a problem. He understood completely what Flack was going through. He had lost his sister. But if Flack was so far out of it that he needed to have Mac keeping an eye on him, well, there was no wondering what he might do.

That worried Hawkes.

It worried all of them.

"Mac still busy?" Aidan seemed to be reading his mind, directing the question at Adam.

"Yeah. He called Stella, told her to send me here," he continued to look around the room. "What a mess."

Hawkes did not want to discuss the case. "Has anyone talked with Flack, I mean, actually seen him in person and checked to see how he is fairing?"

Both Adam and Aidan shook their heads.

"Some friends we are," Hawkes grumbled suddenly feeling bad.

Aidan stuck another swab into her crime kit. "He hasn't exactly made himself readily available, Hawkes."

"The man is grieving," Adam chimed in, starting to get to work.

Hawkes put down his camera. "We should still make an effort. We're his friends, we're supposed to be there for him. Mac shouldn't have to shoulder all of this by himself." He shook his head, eyeballing the growing pile of evidence. "You know, I'm going to take some of this out to the vehicle. Gives us less to carry when we can finally break free of this place."

"Let's hope it's sooner rather than later," grumbled Aidan, taking a swab of some dark liquid in a corner.

Gathering up some of the brown bags with the red tape sealing them he headed down the hall. He passed the officer who was leaning back against the wall, eyes half closed. Some guard he was being, Hawkes though as he neared the doorway. Outside he could the sounds of the city in the near distance. The familiar sounds brought a sense of comfort that was cruelly torn away when entering the murder room, as he had begun to think of it. Stepping out the door he took a moment to inhale the dusk air, catching a whiff of oil and car exhaust mixed in with the aroma of mildew and stagnant water. Not exactly the most pleasant smell but definitely better than the room; which stank of blood and other bodily fluids. Who the hell built a room without windows?

Resuming his walk he made it to the nearest vehicle and popped open the back. He began to place the evidence inside, careful to push it all the way up against the back seat so as to fit as much as possible inside. He then threw a blanket over the bags to keep them out of sight. Despite the alarm on the vehicle he wasn't comfortable leaving the evidence bags in plain sight. There were people dumb enough to break into police cars. He had seen it with his own two eyes. He closed the trunk and was about to head back toward the building when he heard the scrape of a shoe on blacktop. He froze, his hand instantly going to the gun on his hip.

A figured stumbled out of the alley and before he could react the person bumped into him. His heart was beating fast, frantic as in that split second a waterfall of terrible thoughts crossed his mind. He quickly pulled away from the shadow waiting to feel any pain on his body to suggest he had been harmed. Instead he felt the pain in a place he never imagined. He took in the sight before his eyes, a single word escaping from between his lips.

"Flack."

"Don't tell anyone you saw me here, please," Flack pleaded with him, his voice a mix of fear and worry.

Hawkes wasn't sure what to do. He knew that keeping something like this from Mac would get him in trouble, especially considering the current state of mind the detective occupied. Then again, had he not just been telling the others that they should be there for Flack when he needed them? Isn't that what friends did? And surely there was a logical explanation for the way Flack looked. It could be nearly as bad as his mind wanted him to believe.

"Please," Flack was starting to sound frantic.

Against his better judgment he agreed. "I won't say a word."

"Thank you," Flack said. "I owe you one."

And then he was gone into the shadows. Hawkes shivered as a chill passed down his spine. What the hell had he just done? Why would he make such a promise? He stared off into the darkness thinking about the consequences of his actions. Thinking about the blood on the detective's clothes.