Title: Tomorrow Never Comes ---His Last Case sequel---
Disclaimer: Major angst. Violence/Harassment. Slash.
Special Note: See my profile for a note on this story.
POV?
Introduction
The lab is quiet. This puts me at ease. Day shift is gone and not all of night shift is in. This will go well. Maybe.
I look to the picture in my hand. Happier times. I want to smile. Really, I do. Half-heartedly I tear the photo in half. The memory is gone.
The person I'm waiting for walks by. He doesn't see me. I check the hall. It's empty behind him. Briskly, yet slowly, I follow the guy I want.
He turns into the locker room.
Outside the door I pause. The metal is cool in my hand. I don't bother to check the chamber, I know it's full. My gun is always loaded.
Steeling my spine I enter the room. He's sitting on the bench, tying his shoes. As the door closes behind me he looks to me.
"What are you doing here?" He snaps.
"Came to see you."
"Get lost, trash."
He resumes tying his shoes. My anger is stoked by his ignorance. I point my gun at him.
"I'm not done with you."
He looks to me again. His eyes grow large as he sees the shiny metal.
"What the…"
"Shut up! You don't get to talk. You've done enough talking."
"Come on, man, you don't have the balls to pull that trigger."
I step closer. "I don't?"
He smiles. "Go ahead. Dare you to do it."
My mind races with visions of anger. Death. Blood. Anger. Loneliness.
"Enjoy your hell."
He smiles, calling my bluff.
I pull the trigger.