iv. LA FBI OFFICES present times

"Listen up people!" Don yelled across the bullpen, his voice filled with a masked rage, "We've got another murder on our hands and two people in hiding. We've a profile, and a name. We will get this man."

Don pointed at David, "David, put up the pictures."

As David put the mug shots up, the FBI Team glimpsed for the first time the man who had terrorized their consultant's boyfriend for almost thirty years. His hair was greying at the temples, and his beard and hair were a large mess. The man's eyes were dark, and void of emotion. Don sighed as he stared at the perp. The image of this man was enough to disturb him, he couldn't imagine what Larry was thinking as a young man on his own. Don pointed at Marcus' picture. "This is Marcus McClintock. He is a fifty year old white male. Originally from New York City. These murders are believed to be a continuation of the 1977 murder of John Winsepp. He stalks gay couples and murders them using blunt objects, with a preference for glass objects. He prefers young college age men, who are average height and weight, but with red to blonde hair. He's been focusing around the LA area for Larry Fleinhart, professor of physics at Calsci. As one notes, There have been three CalSci alumni murdered. Full reports are in the files everyone has. We have McClintock's address but he's moved out. We're considering him armed and dangerous despite not using any weapons. Questions?"

An agent raised her hand, "Do we have a car, license plate? Approximate location?"

Don shook his head, "There is a car registered to his ex wife, but we currently have no idea if she has it or if he does. We're attempting to contact her as we speak. License plate is..." Don sighed, "4gr8tkidz."

David shook his head. "That's just disturbing," He muttered.

David took over at this point and split the large group into teams, to search the LA area for the car. Two agents, one of them Terry's replacement, went to talk with the four kids, wondering if they've seen their father at all. Don sat down, rubbing his face. They had all the leads, they had a warrant for Marcus' arrest. The only problem was that they didn't have Marcus. He was apparently very good at hiding. David spoke up, hoping that some encouraging words would clear Don's head, "Listen, Don. We've got everything on this guy. We just need to figure out who he'll strike next."

"Well, we're lucky enough that McClintock doesn't know that Larry and Charlie are in hiding. He doesn't know that we know who he is." Don pointed out.

"Do you think he's watching Larry? He might notice that Charlie and Larry are missing."

"I hope not, David. that'll change all of his behavior. With his MO, he might increase the killings."

"Displaying his frustration for Larry being taken away. How much do you think Larry has played into this?" David asked, moving to sit beside Don.

Don looked up shocked, "Larry had no prior knowledge to these murders, David. Are you implying that Larry is an accomplice in some way?"

"No, Don, absolutely not, but how much does Larry's existance, and what he knew, plays into McClintock's plan. I think that McClintock, obviously obsessed with this first murder, is using Larry as a focus. A test almost. Larry is his obsession, and without Larry in his sight, I think we should expect a more public reaction."

Don's eyebrows furrowed, "You think he's going to send us a message of some sort? Maybe another kill... close to home?"

David nodded, "It makes sense. McClintock seems the type. Remember, after scaring the hell out of Larry, he beat him pretty badly. Larry wasn't exactly truthful about the hospital stay."

Don tilted his head, intrigued. "How so?"

"When we pulled the records, we discovered that Larry's injuries were much more extensive then a few sprains and a broken nose. His leg had a spiral fracture, most likely from turning so quickly to flee McClintock's assault. He was in that hospital for three days."

Don took another aggravated breath, "I swear to God, David. You better be with me when I find this guy, because I'm going to kill him if I'm alone."

David nodded, "You'll have to get in line. There's an entire FBI staff team ready."

A woman stuck her head into the room, looking at Don. "Agent Eppes, we've a location."

Both men stood up, grabbing their coats. "Where to?" Don asked.

"He's actually been in Pasadena the entire time. We've reports of Marcus walking in the Meridian Park area." She responded, handing them the report.

Don smiled, and looked at David, "We're getting him ourselves, let's go."

undisclosed location. present time.

Charlie smiled as he fed Larry a bite of the spaghetti. Larry laughed and wiped his face, amused by how Charlie had managed to drip sauce everywhere. "Charles, as much as I appreciate your parental treatment, I must insist to at least feed myself."

"Feeding the one you love is sexy. Amita said so." Charlie pointed out, "She said it shows love and caring and that it really makes girls feel pampered."

Larry raised an eyebrow, "I don't know what you've been pretending this past year, but I'm definitely not a woman to be pampered."

Charlie chuckled, "Yes, I know you're not a woman, but that doesn't mean you wouldn't like to be pampered once in a while."

"On that point, not all women want to be pampered. In fact, some find the idea offensive."

Charlie set his fork down. "Fine. I'll just refill your wine glass, get you drunk and have my way with you."

Larry smiled, "That's more like it. Leave it to you, Charles, to make a safehouse and running for my life seem like a romantic vacation."

"It'd be a vacation if the cable worked." Charlie pointed out.

Larry shook his head, "You and the cable. I never knew you were such a couch potato, Charles."

"Wouldn't you love to see Merrick's face once he realized he was paying for gay porn?" Charlie said, shoving a mouthful of spaghetti into his own mouth.

Larry smiled, "It'd be priceless."

Charlie finished his plate, putting it away. He walked over, looking nervous and serious. He rubbed his hands together. Larry looked up and the glimmer in his eye flickered. "Something wrong, Charles?"

Charlie nodded, "Yes... well no. The thing is... I know you probably don't want to talk about it more but... how did you go for so long pretending nothing happened?"

Larry rubbed his knees and looked down. "Charles... It's very complicated. I mean, I regret it so much. I've hurt so many..."

Charlie lifted Larry's head and looked him in the eye, "My intention wasn't to make you start blaming yourself again. I just want you to talk to me, perhaps use me as a sound board. You haven't had anyone to talk to in thirty years."

Larry gave a crooked smile, "I told everything to my lava lamp."

"You had a lava lamp?" Charlie said, "Weren't those a bit... trendy for your tastes?"

Larry shrugged, "Reminded me of plasma and fluid dynamics."

Charlie nodded, understanding, and Larry was greatful for that. Charlie understood his small eccentricities. Charlie spoke again, "No really... when you got back to New York... started classes at the end of August... what happened?"

Larry took a deep breath, "I left for California at the end of August, but that month alone was... lonely, and frightening. I felt isolated, except for my books. Mind you, my thesis benefitted greatly from that horrific summer, but I don't think I did."

New York City. Mid august, 1977.

Larry peeked out his window, pulling back the crocheted curtains. He sighed and shut them. He couldn't live in fear forever. He was leaving in two weeks, to never return to New York. He had just recieved the worst phonecall of his life. His father came down with some illness. It had a long name, but was what everyone called Lou Gehrig's Disease. Larry bit his thumb nail in concern. His father was his strongest friend. He couldn't die. The library had very little on the subject, but enough to confirm to Larry that leaving his apartment was a terrible idea, and he should just accept the fact that he was going to live the rest of his life in a small studio apartment.

Larry shook his head and grabbed an album from the wall, popping in Hotel California. As Don Henley's voice came over, Larry shut his eyes. This was one of his favorite albums. Henley wrote about innocence, struggle, meaning of life... things lost.

Larry walked to his books again. They were scattered across the apartment, surrounded by half eaten meals. His studies really had improved. He could feel the theories in his head, melding together. Larry's shoulders began to relax as he thought more and more on his theories. He knew that the real world was just outside of his double bolted door, and was just behind his curtains that barely blocked the sunlight, but he'd rather have his face covered. The proverbial ostrich with his head in the sand. Larry preferred it that way. It was better than his still sore body. It was better than the horrific memories. It was better than returning home to perfect California to find his father's body breaking, and his mother's overwhelming sadness. He'd have to take care of her, because she'd die without her husband.

Larry finally couldn't concentrate on his books anymore. He threw them down and covered his face. "Listen Lawrence." Larry said to himself, "You forget everything and move on! Objects move until they are stopped by an equal or greater force. Well Marcus is not an equal or greater force. He is not a force. He's gone. Now, move."

Larry didn't and spent the rest of his time deep in thought, the Eagles album skipping occasionally, but lulling him and his confused feelings.

tbc...

Don't worry, it's almost to an end.