"Lieutenant, I don't care if you were on the moon! If you're not going to be in the station, I expect a phone call. Got it?" Blake nodded curtly and turned to leave the room. But not before Perry could have one more dig. "This isn't like you, Blake. You're behaving like that asshole from last year – what was his name?"
"You mean Norman?" Carter muttered, irritated that everyone picked now to bring him up.
"Was that his name? Uppity little shit. Anyway – make sure you don't go the same way." Carter grunted, and closed the door behind him.
Ash turned to look at him – he'd obviously been listening in. He grinned, seemingly finding the whole situation funny.
"What?" Carter snapped, glaring at him. Ash held up his hands in surrender. Unfortunately he carried on talking.
"Nothing, nothing... Don't worry about it. I just thought it was funny listening to you being compared to a faggot. One who accused you of being the Origami Killer – little harsh there from Perry. I mean, killer, perhaps. Faggot, never." Carter flushed red at this half-hearted attempt from Ash to defuse the situation with humour. Thank God he didn't know...
"Fuck off, Ash." he growled, and Ash laughed.
"Whatever, Carter. I'll leave you be now... even I know when not to bait a bear."
"Dad... I don't have anywhere else to go."
"I don't care, Norman! And I've told you before, I'm not your father. Bad things only happen when you're around." Norman's eyes flashed.
"Fine. It's your house, it's not like you can't decide who stays here and who doesn't. But I'm telling you now, you are my father. You bred me, even if you don't like to admit it. But you know what? I wish you weren't. And don't worry. I won't bother you again." Norman turned to walk away, and his father slammed the door behind him.
In a daze, unsure what was going on any more over these past few weeks, he wandered across town to his usual doorway, which happened to be occupied... Ah well, what difference would one more change make anyway...
It seemed one more change, however small, could make a hell of a difference. Sat next to a coffee shop doorway as his new haunt, Norman had already got some leads. And pretty damn cold, compared to his last doorway. As a profiler, he made it a habit to listen in to conversations, and once again it had come in handy. Huddled up against the cold, he'd covertly eyed up two bulky men, at first only mildly interested for the sake of it, but then they'd said something interesting.
"Take him to the warehouse with the others. We're going to move them later on."
"Right." The other guy looked around him shadily, obviously neither of them had noticed Norman there. "Which one?" he asked Shady Guy Number One, once he had satisfied himself that no-one was around.
"The one near the docks, moron. That's the main one we're using at the moment. Now split, before someone sees us." The two of them walked off in opposite directions, and Norman got the uneasy feeling he may have found little Norman. Or at least, know the whereabouts of him a little later... What he'd give for a gun.