From the Corner of his Eye
Pairing: Sean Bean/ David Wenham
Rating: R
Warnings: AU, violence, disability (blindness)
Summary: David Wenham was the perfect suspect. But even though he definitely had the opportunity, Sean just couldn't come up with motive and means.
Beta: moanahine *hugs 'n squishes*
Chapter 4
Phew. David pressed himself against the cold brick wall, listening intently. He frowned. He was at least fairly sure that he could not hear Bean's footsteps anywhere nearby at the moment. So the officer was not willing to run after him for the sake of the case. Damn.
David hid his face in his hands, swallowing the sob that was rising in his throat. How could he have been so stupid? Why for heaven's sake had he made up the bullshit about the phone calls? He really should have known that Bean would insist on a phone trace. He was trying to catch a murderer after all.
David chuckled darkly. Bean could be surprisingly sensitive if he wanted to be. At least for short periods of time. And he really had the determination of a rottweiler with a grudge. David could not help grinning. He wondered if Bean lurked behind the door of his home and jumped out to bite the postman's ankles when the poor sob brought the mail. His grin broadened. Bean probably really did.
Still. David sobered immediately. His wish to help, his need to finally see the bastard who had killed his mother behind bars, had just led him into even more trouble. If telling Bean about his mother had temporarily made the other man more inclined not to suspect him, then he had most certainly managed to undo that by refusing to let Bean put a trace on his phone. Fortunateĺy he knew the park well enough to vanish. Unless Bean had followed him quickly and was lurking somewhere nearby, shadowing him again.
Well. He probably still had one more - one last - chance to convince Bean that he was indeed innocent. The Inspector would be back to talk to him. He had to if he wanted to solve the case. The only question was whether Bean would approach him openly or bring him in for questioning again.
~***~
Sean knew that he would probably need prosthetic teeth if he kept on grinding his teeth like this, but it was the only thing that kept him from walking up to Wenham and yelling at the guy. Or at the who ever was unfortunate enough to be close to him when he finally let go of his anger.
He had no idea what it was but something about Wenham - apart from his refusal to be of any help - really got to him. And he needed to know what ever it was that Wenham was holding back. The story about his mother was, if it was true, surely part of the puzzle and maybe the reason why Wenham kept making himself more and more suspicious, but he felt that there was something else. Something more. There just had to be.
He sighed, shaking his head as he headed sraight for the nearest bus stop. He should probably head back to the station but he felt like touring the city instead. He could always claim that he had still been following Wenhamm. After all, Noble had authorized the stake-out, no matter how reluctantly.
Still, the idea of arresting Wenham again was strangely appealing. For just a moment he allowed himself to entertain the fantasy of waking Wenham first thing in the morning, handcuffing him and dragging him to bed. Oh shit. Sean gasped, stopping dead in his tracks. The station! He had meant dragging Wenham out of the house and to the station. Nowhere else. And most certainly not anywhere with beds, pillows and opportunities.
Gods. He shook his head. Maybe that was why Wenham managed to annoy him so much. He would look great in handcuffs, though. “Fuck.” Sean whispered, desperately trying to clear his mind. Seemed like he had just disembarked from the cruise of the river Nile that he had been on for the last few days.
“Fuck.” He raked his hands through his hair. Of all the times to fall in lust with somebody. And why did it have to be Wenham of all people? And when had he started walking again? He stopped, glaring at his reflection in the window of the bus that had just stopped in front of him.
“Stop falling for the subject already, will you?” He growed at himself, stepping backwards.
God. Sean shook his head. No falling. There was definitely no falling involved. Of any kind. Except for the lust bit. Great. He bit his tongue, refusing to groan again. He was pathetic. And he had been alone for too long. Far too long. But then he had always taken care to keep his sexual orientation as far away from the station and his work as possible. And that had somehow ended in being alone. A lot of things could happen to gay cops. And delayed calls for back up were only one example.
He shook himself out of his trance, smiling apologetically at the elderly couple who were waiting for the next bus. Seemed like strange men who stared bindly at glass windows were not exactly at the top of their list of favourite people. Still smiling, he turned. Well. This was most certainly not what he had expected to happen. Or considered to be possible.
Milky blue eyes were staring directly at him, only separated from his face by a few centimetres. Fuck. He shuddered. Wenham's empty stare was extremely disconcerting. Especially if one was the sole recipient of it.
“Mr Wenham.” Damn. Sean cleared his throat. “Mr Wenham.” He repeated, nodding softly. That was better. Not as surprised and shaky. “Should I take your sudden re-appearance as a sign that you might be willing to talk after all?”
~***~
The sun had almost reached its zenith for the day and was now shining down on the city, illuminating the crazy masses of people, taxis and buses that went about their business in a fratnic buzz of activity. Days like these were perfect for losing oneself in the crowds of the city, for walking the streets, unseen and unnoticed, just another shadow in the crowd, just another guy - any other guy - waiting at a red traffic light or pedestrian's crossing.
He loved these days; Loved to lose himself in the city and just be himself . It was the only situation in which he could let go, could finally allow himself to just be - be just another faceless guy in the crowd instead of an authority figure to which people looked for safety and advice .
And yet even days like these were always spoiled by people with problems. Sunlight played through his hair as he knelt down, staring at the fallen figure in front of him. He had not intended to act so quickly but when Leslie had left the doctor's office and had headed out to take a stroll through the hospital gardens, he had seen an opportunity that he simply could not let pass. Luckily he always had a scalpel or hunting knife with him.
Whistling he stepped out of the bushes and back onto the path that led down towards the lake. No one noticed him as he strolled along the path, his mood better than it had been for days.
~***~
“Wenham? Wenham!”
Sean surged forward as soon as he noticed that there was something wrong with the other man but he was too late. “Fuck!” Wenham hit the ground with a heavy thud. He had never seen anyone collapse that quickly. For just a second he had thought that there had been some kind of awareness in the other man's eyes, an indication that he was actually looking back at Sean instead of just staring back at him, but there had not been enough time to dwell on that thought before Wenham collapsed.
“Wenham!” He sank down beside the other man, slapping his cheeks. No reaction. Except for the rapid eye movement. Fuck, This looked like some sort of weird epileptic seizure. Except for the fact that Wenham was completely still. Only his eyes were rolling wildly, jerking from side to side under closed eyelids .
“For fuck's sake, I'll kill you if you don't wake up!”
Sean shrugged out of his jacket, pushing it under Wenham's head and yelling at the group of bystanders that had gathered around them to stay back.
“Just stay back, it's only a seizure. He'll be alright in a minute.” Yeah, right. It still did not look like a seizure.
He frowned. A silver flash on the edge of his vision caught his attention. “Get the fuck away from him!” He yelled, glaring at the offender. Fucking kids. The little bastards had been filming Wenham with their mobile phones. Stupid, little assholes. Morons, all of them.
He sighed, releasing a breath he had not known he had been holding. Wenham was waking up.
“It's alright.” he said, feeling a bit stupid. “You u had some sort of seizure.”
“I know.” Wenham frowned, patting the jacket under his head. “What's that?”
“My jacket.” Sean felt even more stupid. “I just thought that.. never mind, I'll take it away.” He could not help grinning as Wenham gave him a soft smile. Yep, definitely lust. He shook his head, tapping Wenham's chest to alert the other man to the fact that he wanted to help him up. A moment later Wenham was on his feet again and, with a last growl, Sean scared the last bystanders away , checking Wenham's head for injuries in the process. None.
But the other man's hair sure felt nice. It actually felt a lot softer than it looked, Sean noticed, which was probably due to the hair geel or whatever Wenham used in the morning. Fuck! Why the heck was he thinking about what Wenham did or which products he used when he got up in the morning?
“Are you alright?” He asked instead, forcing his thoughts away from everything that put the words Wenham and/ or bed into the close vicinity of each other. No good going there. He blinked as Wenham's soft laughter finally registered with him. “Sorry.” He chuckled. “I guess that was the most imbecilic question I could have asked in a situation like this.”
“Yes.” Wenham grinned back at home . “But I'm alright again. I'm used to it.”
“Used?” Sean repeated, all of his internal alarms ringing. “Used to? Does that mean that you often have seizures like that?”
“Yes. No. Not really.”
Sean raised his eyebrows as Wenham floundered and stuttered his way through something that was probably supposed to be an explanation. Something about a-tonic seizures. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, lightly tapping his feet on the pavement.
“Wenham.” He finally interrupted the other man. “I'm taking you to the hospital.”
He smirked. Wenham's shocked expression would have been funny in any other situation. He looked like a cow caught in a thunderstorm, completely dumbstruck.
“No!” The other man squeaked finally, frantically shaking his head. “That's not necessary . I don't need to go to the hospital. I feel great.” He paused. “Just a bit tired.”
“Tired.” Sean repeated, shaking his head. he was incredibly glad that Wenham could not see his amused smile. This was certainly entertaining in some sort of weird and twisted way.
“It's normal to be tired after a seizure.”
“But you didn't have a seizure.”
“Yes, I did.”
“No.” Sean interrupted Wenham once again. “It wasn't a seizure. If it had been an a-tonic seizure your eyebrows wouldn't have been moving and if it had been any other kind of seizure then the rest of your body wouldn't have been still. You,” he said stressing each word by tapping a finger against Wenham's chest, “Did not have a seizure. Therefore I am taking you to the hospital.”
“But...”
“Don't make me take you there in handcuffs, Wenham.” Sean growled, wincing. Damn. He had just managed to get his mind away fom Wenham and beds and now it was already returning to thoughts of Wenham and handcuffs. “I will if I have to.”
“You're on foot.” Wenham pointed out.
“So?”
“Are you planning on walking me there?”
“The hell I am.” He took Wenham's elbow, steering the other man towards the street. “We're taking a cab.”
He did not know what amazed him more, the fact that Wenham did not counter with some witty come-back or that he did not put up any resistance. No need for handcuffs after all. Shaking his head again, he flagged a cab. Wenham and handcuffs again. Damn.
~***~
He smiled as the stupid duck dived after a stone he had thrown into the lake for the second time in a row. For some strange reason hope was the only thing that always prevailed. No matter what happened, no matter how hard circumstances were, how desperate the situation was, people always kept on hoping. Hoping that things would get better eventually, that someone would come and help them, would save them, and that maybe the stone was only an abnormally heavy breadcrumb. At least that was what the duck was probably hoping. Such a stupid, little thing. And so fragile.
He sighed contentedly, raising his gaze. The hospital towered on the other side of the lake, a big, white threat of needles and orderlies. He shivered. Disgusting place. He probably should have left already, but he was reluctant to leave, did not want to risk going somewhere else as long as he was still feeling echos of the watcher.
He had no idea who - or what - it was, but he knew that someone was watching him. From time to time he felt as though there was someone standing right behind him, looking over his shoulder and watching each and every move he made. Always watching. Watching and staring, but never anything else. And lately he had had that feeling of being watched more and more often. Yet every time he turned, or looked into mirrors, there was never anybody there. Every time he was looking at nothing but empty space, staring at thin air, even though his mind and his senses told him that there should be someone.
Just another reason why he had never seriously considered seeking therapy of his own free will. They would only tell him that it was all in his mind. Just like they always had.
He threw another stone, but it seemed that the duck had finally learned something. Some of the patients and nurses on the other side were walking dangerously close to the little group of bushes in which he had left Leslie's body, but so far no one had discovered her. He wondered how long it would take. So far he had never stayed long enough to actually see how the bodies were discovered. There had never been an opportunity. And yet staying meant that he would perhaps be able to give his watcher another little show. He frowned. Even though his watcher seemed to be suspiciously absent at the moment.
Well. It did not matter. He would be back. The watcher always came back. Crossing his ankles he settled back on the park bench. He had time to wait. All the time in the world. At least almost.
~***~
“Excuse me, Sir,” the nurse with the clipboard said, “Are you the officer who brought Mr Wenham in?”
“Yes.” He smiled at her. He knew her. She was the one whose name he always forgot, even though she always seemed to be on duty when he was here. Which, fortunately, was not all that often. “Is there a problem?”
“Well,” the nurse frowned, first at her clipboard and then at Sean, “That's actually exactly the thing I wanted to ask you.”
“I'm sorry?” Sean tried to get a look at the clipboard. “Why should there be a problem?”
“Mr Wenham is somewhat reluctant to co-operate,” the nurse said, nodding at the examination room she had just come out of, “He says that he's feeling well and that there's no reason to examine him,” The nurse's frown deepened as she looked around the waiting room, obviously searching or looking for something. “Where are the other officers?”
Sean blinked. Other officers? There were no other officers in the waiting room and as far as he could tell there had not been any while he had been here. “Which other officers are you talking about? Were you expecting someone?”
“Shouldn't there be at least two officers present of a criminal is taken to the hospital? And shouldn't he be in handcuffs?”
Sean sighed silently as the nurse's frown became a mask of forbidding disapproval. “I am afraid, Inspector Bean, that we will not be able to examine, much less treat, Mr Wenham under these conditions.” Her frown returned with full force. “Even if he were consenting to an examination.”
“Mr Wenham.” Sean took a deep breath. “Is not a criminal .” At least not a convicted criminal, he added silently. “I would, however,” he gave the nurse a grim smile, “Like a word with him. If I may?” He asked, waiting just long enough for the nurse to nod, before heading towards the examination room. Time to talk to Wenham. He sighed. And hopefully time to get Wenham to see reason.
~***~
“Inspector Bean.”
Sean froze in his tracks, already half-way through the door as the icy voice hit him like a blizzard in June. “I was wondering if they'd send you in here.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Each person has their own individual footstep.” Wenham gave him a humourless smile. “Almost like a fingerprint. Once I've heard it often enough to memorize it, I would recognize it anywhere.”
“Ah.” Sean managed to shake himself out of his stupor stepped in and closed the door. No reason to give the nurses and orderlies, who were lurking outside, even more of a show,
“Why are you refusing treatment?” He asked. “You had an inexplicable seizure and I thought we agreed that you need to get checked out .” God. Sean winced. He sounded like a nagging housewife.
“You agreed, Inspector.” Wenham said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I only went along because you coerced me.”
“Coerced you?” Sean repeated. He suddenly felt that even a glacier would be warm and cozy in comparison to the other man. “I did not coerce you.”
“Yes, you did.” Wenham insisted. “And you told the nurses I was a wanted criminal.”
“I did nothing of the kind.”
“Then why did she believe that I should be guarded and handcuffed?” Sean winced again. Glacier Wenham had just become the next ice age.
“It was just a misunderstanding.”
“Oh yes? I,” Wenham started, trailing off as the door opened again.
“Yes?” Sean gave the nurse a baleful glare. “What is it?” It was the one with the clipboard again.
“Mr Wenham.”
Sean glared at the nurse, but she ignored him and continued to talk to Wenham. “Will you agree to an examination now?”
“No.” Wenham said flatly. Sean could not help growling. He hated being ignored. And he was still of the opinion that Wenham should be examined.
“Very well.” The nurse turned, giving Sean a glare that was just as dark as his own. “In that case I have to ask you to leave. There are patients in the waiting room who actually need medical attention.”
“Of course.” Sean forced himself to give the nurse a fake smile. By now he was feeling anything but guilty for forgetting her name. “We'll leave immediately.”
“We will?” Wenham asked, raising his eyebrows at Sean.
“Yes, we will.” Sean froze, snarling as his mobile started to ring. Fuck. This was really the last thing he needed right now.
“Well?” Wenham nodded into Sean's direction, sliding off the chair and adjusting his clothes. “Aren't you going to answer that?”
Sighing Sean started hunting for the damned mobile, already walking out of the room. Fuck. He stared morosely at the display, his fingers hovering directly over the accept button.
Viggo. Dread hit him like a blow to the stomach. It could only mean one thing. One fucking thing. There had been another one. Again. And so fast.
“Yes?” He barked into the phone, finally accepting the call. Just damn.
Chapter 5
Rating: R
Warnings: AU, violence, disability (blindness)
Summary: David Wenham was the perfect suspect. But even though he definitely had the opportunity, Sean just couldn't come up with motive and means.
Beta: moanahine *hugs 'n squishes*
Chapter 4
Phew. David pressed himself against the cold brick wall, listening intently. He frowned. He was at least fairly sure that he could not hear Bean's footsteps anywhere nearby at the moment. So the officer was not willing to run after him for the sake of the case. Damn.
David hid his face in his hands, swallowing the sob that was rising in his throat. How could he have been so stupid? Why for heaven's sake had he made up the bullshit about the phone calls? He really should have known that Bean would insist on a phone trace. He was trying to catch a murderer after all.
David chuckled darkly. Bean could be surprisingly sensitive if he wanted to be. At least for short periods of time. And he really had the determination of a rottweiler with a grudge. David could not help grinning. He wondered if Bean lurked behind the door of his home and jumped out to bite the postman's ankles when the poor sob brought the mail. His grin broadened. Bean probably really did.
Still. David sobered immediately. His wish to help, his need to finally see the bastard who had killed his mother behind bars, had just led him into even more trouble. If telling Bean about his mother had temporarily made the other man more inclined not to suspect him, then he had most certainly managed to undo that by refusing to let Bean put a trace on his phone. Fortunateĺy he knew the park well enough to vanish. Unless Bean had followed him quickly and was lurking somewhere nearby, shadowing him again.
Well. He probably still had one more - one last - chance to convince Bean that he was indeed innocent. The Inspector would be back to talk to him. He had to if he wanted to solve the case. The only question was whether Bean would approach him openly or bring him in for questioning again.
~***~
Sean knew that he would probably need prosthetic teeth if he kept on grinding his teeth like this, but it was the only thing that kept him from walking up to Wenham and yelling at the guy. Or at the who ever was unfortunate enough to be close to him when he finally let go of his anger.
He had no idea what it was but something about Wenham - apart from his refusal to be of any help - really got to him. And he needed to know what ever it was that Wenham was holding back. The story about his mother was, if it was true, surely part of the puzzle and maybe the reason why Wenham kept making himself more and more suspicious, but he felt that there was something else. Something more. There just had to be.
He sighed, shaking his head as he headed sraight for the nearest bus stop. He should probably head back to the station but he felt like touring the city instead. He could always claim that he had still been following Wenhamm. After all, Noble had authorized the stake-out, no matter how reluctantly.
Still, the idea of arresting Wenham again was strangely appealing. For just a moment he allowed himself to entertain the fantasy of waking Wenham first thing in the morning, handcuffing him and dragging him to bed. Oh shit. Sean gasped, stopping dead in his tracks. The station! He had meant dragging Wenham out of the house and to the station. Nowhere else. And most certainly not anywhere with beds, pillows and opportunities.
Gods. He shook his head. Maybe that was why Wenham managed to annoy him so much. He would look great in handcuffs, though. “Fuck.” Sean whispered, desperately trying to clear his mind. Seemed like he had just disembarked from the cruise of the river Nile that he had been on for the last few days.
“Fuck.” He raked his hands through his hair. Of all the times to fall in lust with somebody. And why did it have to be Wenham of all people? And when had he started walking again? He stopped, glaring at his reflection in the window of the bus that had just stopped in front of him.
“Stop falling for the subject already, will you?” He growed at himself, stepping backwards.
God. Sean shook his head. No falling. There was definitely no falling involved. Of any kind. Except for the lust bit. Great. He bit his tongue, refusing to groan again. He was pathetic. And he had been alone for too long. Far too long. But then he had always taken care to keep his sexual orientation as far away from the station and his work as possible. And that had somehow ended in being alone. A lot of things could happen to gay cops. And delayed calls for back up were only one example.
He shook himself out of his trance, smiling apologetically at the elderly couple who were waiting for the next bus. Seemed like strange men who stared bindly at glass windows were not exactly at the top of their list of favourite people. Still smiling, he turned. Well. This was most certainly not what he had expected to happen. Or considered to be possible.
Milky blue eyes were staring directly at him, only separated from his face by a few centimetres. Fuck. He shuddered. Wenham's empty stare was extremely disconcerting. Especially if one was the sole recipient of it.
“Mr Wenham.” Damn. Sean cleared his throat. “Mr Wenham.” He repeated, nodding softly. That was better. Not as surprised and shaky. “Should I take your sudden re-appearance as a sign that you might be willing to talk after all?”
~***~
The sun had almost reached its zenith for the day and was now shining down on the city, illuminating the crazy masses of people, taxis and buses that went about their business in a fratnic buzz of activity. Days like these were perfect for losing oneself in the crowds of the city, for walking the streets, unseen and unnoticed, just another shadow in the crowd, just another guy - any other guy - waiting at a red traffic light or pedestrian's crossing.
He loved these days; Loved to lose himself in the city and just be himself . It was the only situation in which he could let go, could finally allow himself to just be - be just another faceless guy in the crowd instead of an authority figure to which people looked for safety and advice .
And yet even days like these were always spoiled by people with problems. Sunlight played through his hair as he knelt down, staring at the fallen figure in front of him. He had not intended to act so quickly but when Leslie had left the doctor's office and had headed out to take a stroll through the hospital gardens, he had seen an opportunity that he simply could not let pass. Luckily he always had a scalpel or hunting knife with him.
Whistling he stepped out of the bushes and back onto the path that led down towards the lake. No one noticed him as he strolled along the path, his mood better than it had been for days.
~***~
“Wenham? Wenham!”
Sean surged forward as soon as he noticed that there was something wrong with the other man but he was too late. “Fuck!” Wenham hit the ground with a heavy thud. He had never seen anyone collapse that quickly. For just a second he had thought that there had been some kind of awareness in the other man's eyes, an indication that he was actually looking back at Sean instead of just staring back at him, but there had not been enough time to dwell on that thought before Wenham collapsed.
“Wenham!” He sank down beside the other man, slapping his cheeks. No reaction. Except for the rapid eye movement. Fuck, This looked like some sort of weird epileptic seizure. Except for the fact that Wenham was completely still. Only his eyes were rolling wildly, jerking from side to side under closed eyelids .
“For fuck's sake, I'll kill you if you don't wake up!”
Sean shrugged out of his jacket, pushing it under Wenham's head and yelling at the group of bystanders that had gathered around them to stay back.
“Just stay back, it's only a seizure. He'll be alright in a minute.” Yeah, right. It still did not look like a seizure.
He frowned. A silver flash on the edge of his vision caught his attention. “Get the fuck away from him!” He yelled, glaring at the offender. Fucking kids. The little bastards had been filming Wenham with their mobile phones. Stupid, little assholes. Morons, all of them.
He sighed, releasing a breath he had not known he had been holding. Wenham was waking up.
“It's alright.” he said, feeling a bit stupid. “You u had some sort of seizure.”
“I know.” Wenham frowned, patting the jacket under his head. “What's that?”
“My jacket.” Sean felt even more stupid. “I just thought that.. never mind, I'll take it away.” He could not help grinning as Wenham gave him a soft smile. Yep, definitely lust. He shook his head, tapping Wenham's chest to alert the other man to the fact that he wanted to help him up. A moment later Wenham was on his feet again and, with a last growl, Sean scared the last bystanders away , checking Wenham's head for injuries in the process. None.
But the other man's hair sure felt nice. It actually felt a lot softer than it looked, Sean noticed, which was probably due to the hair geel or whatever Wenham used in the morning. Fuck! Why the heck was he thinking about what Wenham did or which products he used when he got up in the morning?
“Are you alright?” He asked instead, forcing his thoughts away from everything that put the words Wenham and/ or bed into the close vicinity of each other. No good going there. He blinked as Wenham's soft laughter finally registered with him. “Sorry.” He chuckled. “I guess that was the most imbecilic question I could have asked in a situation like this.”
“Yes.” Wenham grinned back at home . “But I'm alright again. I'm used to it.”
“Used?” Sean repeated, all of his internal alarms ringing. “Used to? Does that mean that you often have seizures like that?”
“Yes. No. Not really.”
Sean raised his eyebrows as Wenham floundered and stuttered his way through something that was probably supposed to be an explanation. Something about a-tonic seizures. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, lightly tapping his feet on the pavement.
“Wenham.” He finally interrupted the other man. “I'm taking you to the hospital.”
He smirked. Wenham's shocked expression would have been funny in any other situation. He looked like a cow caught in a thunderstorm, completely dumbstruck.
“No!” The other man squeaked finally, frantically shaking his head. “That's not necessary . I don't need to go to the hospital. I feel great.” He paused. “Just a bit tired.”
“Tired.” Sean repeated, shaking his head. he was incredibly glad that Wenham could not see his amused smile. This was certainly entertaining in some sort of weird and twisted way.
“It's normal to be tired after a seizure.”
“But you didn't have a seizure.”
“Yes, I did.”
“No.” Sean interrupted Wenham once again. “It wasn't a seizure. If it had been an a-tonic seizure your eyebrows wouldn't have been moving and if it had been any other kind of seizure then the rest of your body wouldn't have been still. You,” he said stressing each word by tapping a finger against Wenham's chest, “Did not have a seizure. Therefore I am taking you to the hospital.”
“But...”
“Don't make me take you there in handcuffs, Wenham.” Sean growled, wincing. Damn. He had just managed to get his mind away fom Wenham and beds and now it was already returning to thoughts of Wenham and handcuffs. “I will if I have to.”
“You're on foot.” Wenham pointed out.
“So?”
“Are you planning on walking me there?”
“The hell I am.” He took Wenham's elbow, steering the other man towards the street. “We're taking a cab.”
He did not know what amazed him more, the fact that Wenham did not counter with some witty come-back or that he did not put up any resistance. No need for handcuffs after all. Shaking his head again, he flagged a cab. Wenham and handcuffs again. Damn.
~***~
He smiled as the stupid duck dived after a stone he had thrown into the lake for the second time in a row. For some strange reason hope was the only thing that always prevailed. No matter what happened, no matter how hard circumstances were, how desperate the situation was, people always kept on hoping. Hoping that things would get better eventually, that someone would come and help them, would save them, and that maybe the stone was only an abnormally heavy breadcrumb. At least that was what the duck was probably hoping. Such a stupid, little thing. And so fragile.
He sighed contentedly, raising his gaze. The hospital towered on the other side of the lake, a big, white threat of needles and orderlies. He shivered. Disgusting place. He probably should have left already, but he was reluctant to leave, did not want to risk going somewhere else as long as he was still feeling echos of the watcher.
He had no idea who - or what - it was, but he knew that someone was watching him. From time to time he felt as though there was someone standing right behind him, looking over his shoulder and watching each and every move he made. Always watching. Watching and staring, but never anything else. And lately he had had that feeling of being watched more and more often. Yet every time he turned, or looked into mirrors, there was never anybody there. Every time he was looking at nothing but empty space, staring at thin air, even though his mind and his senses told him that there should be someone.
Just another reason why he had never seriously considered seeking therapy of his own free will. They would only tell him that it was all in his mind. Just like they always had.
He threw another stone, but it seemed that the duck had finally learned something. Some of the patients and nurses on the other side were walking dangerously close to the little group of bushes in which he had left Leslie's body, but so far no one had discovered her. He wondered how long it would take. So far he had never stayed long enough to actually see how the bodies were discovered. There had never been an opportunity. And yet staying meant that he would perhaps be able to give his watcher another little show. He frowned. Even though his watcher seemed to be suspiciously absent at the moment.
Well. It did not matter. He would be back. The watcher always came back. Crossing his ankles he settled back on the park bench. He had time to wait. All the time in the world. At least almost.
~***~
“Excuse me, Sir,” the nurse with the clipboard said, “Are you the officer who brought Mr Wenham in?”
“Yes.” He smiled at her. He knew her. She was the one whose name he always forgot, even though she always seemed to be on duty when he was here. Which, fortunately, was not all that often. “Is there a problem?”
“Well,” the nurse frowned, first at her clipboard and then at Sean, “That's actually exactly the thing I wanted to ask you.”
“I'm sorry?” Sean tried to get a look at the clipboard. “Why should there be a problem?”
“Mr Wenham is somewhat reluctant to co-operate,” the nurse said, nodding at the examination room she had just come out of, “He says that he's feeling well and that there's no reason to examine him,” The nurse's frown deepened as she looked around the waiting room, obviously searching or looking for something. “Where are the other officers?”
Sean blinked. Other officers? There were no other officers in the waiting room and as far as he could tell there had not been any while he had been here. “Which other officers are you talking about? Were you expecting someone?”
“Shouldn't there be at least two officers present of a criminal is taken to the hospital? And shouldn't he be in handcuffs?”
Sean sighed silently as the nurse's frown became a mask of forbidding disapproval. “I am afraid, Inspector Bean, that we will not be able to examine, much less treat, Mr Wenham under these conditions.” Her frown returned with full force. “Even if he were consenting to an examination.”
“Mr Wenham.” Sean took a deep breath. “Is not a criminal .” At least not a convicted criminal, he added silently. “I would, however,” he gave the nurse a grim smile, “Like a word with him. If I may?” He asked, waiting just long enough for the nurse to nod, before heading towards the examination room. Time to talk to Wenham. He sighed. And hopefully time to get Wenham to see reason.
~***~
“Inspector Bean.”
Sean froze in his tracks, already half-way through the door as the icy voice hit him like a blizzard in June. “I was wondering if they'd send you in here.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Each person has their own individual footstep.” Wenham gave him a humourless smile. “Almost like a fingerprint. Once I've heard it often enough to memorize it, I would recognize it anywhere.”
“Ah.” Sean managed to shake himself out of his stupor stepped in and closed the door. No reason to give the nurses and orderlies, who were lurking outside, even more of a show,
“Why are you refusing treatment?” He asked. “You had an inexplicable seizure and I thought we agreed that you need to get checked out .” God. Sean winced. He sounded like a nagging housewife.
“You agreed, Inspector.” Wenham said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I only went along because you coerced me.”
“Coerced you?” Sean repeated. He suddenly felt that even a glacier would be warm and cozy in comparison to the other man. “I did not coerce you.”
“Yes, you did.” Wenham insisted. “And you told the nurses I was a wanted criminal.”
“I did nothing of the kind.”
“Then why did she believe that I should be guarded and handcuffed?” Sean winced again. Glacier Wenham had just become the next ice age.
“It was just a misunderstanding.”
“Oh yes? I,” Wenham started, trailing off as the door opened again.
“Yes?” Sean gave the nurse a baleful glare. “What is it?” It was the one with the clipboard again.
“Mr Wenham.”
Sean glared at the nurse, but she ignored him and continued to talk to Wenham. “Will you agree to an examination now?”
“No.” Wenham said flatly. Sean could not help growling. He hated being ignored. And he was still of the opinion that Wenham should be examined.
“Very well.” The nurse turned, giving Sean a glare that was just as dark as his own. “In that case I have to ask you to leave. There are patients in the waiting room who actually need medical attention.”
“Of course.” Sean forced himself to give the nurse a fake smile. By now he was feeling anything but guilty for forgetting her name. “We'll leave immediately.”
“We will?” Wenham asked, raising his eyebrows at Sean.
“Yes, we will.” Sean froze, snarling as his mobile started to ring. Fuck. This was really the last thing he needed right now.
“Well?” Wenham nodded into Sean's direction, sliding off the chair and adjusting his clothes. “Aren't you going to answer that?”
Sighing Sean started hunting for the damned mobile, already walking out of the room. Fuck. He stared morosely at the display, his fingers hovering directly over the accept button.
Viggo. Dread hit him like a blow to the stomach. It could only mean one thing. One fucking thing. There had been another one. Again. And so fast.
“Yes?” He barked into the phone, finally accepting the call. Just damn.
Chapter 5