HOUSE OF BROKEN SOULS. Part 17
Warnings: This Chapter: None. Overall: Slash, sexually explicit content, graphic violence
The fiction includes a mental illness storyline. I am not qualified in mental health, everything I know about it is googled. It's fantasy folks, please don't shoot me though helpful criticism is always welcomed.
*Not real. The folks aren't mine. No damage intended.
A big thankyou to Lia (Cheebles) for all her help ((hugs))
Short chapter I know. One day I might achieve some consistency...
Jensen rocked back on his chair, chewing on his lower lip. It wasn’t a decision he had been expecting to make but he supposed circumstances had changed and he had his own agenda too. “I’m not going back to Texas Chad, it’s too much.”
“You don’t have to. The FBI are interested but they don’t have the manpower or resources. They provide a new profiler at our end. They give you whatever technology and permission you need to use it. Effectively you will be consulting, funded jointly by FBI and our department and answer to the Chief, but you operate from here. Contact is with me. Detective Collins is assigned to give whatever regional help you need. You get your badge back but it’s a desk job, it’s confined to 20 hours in any week and that is not negotiable.”
Jensen scowled and Chad looked him in the eye. “Honestly Jen, if I told the Chief everything that has happened with you this week you wouldn’t be returning at all. Misha thinks you’re unfit and I’m wavering. I’m going to gamble on you because I know how strong you are. I also know we need you. You found The Player once. It’s because of you we know his habits and his face.” He held his hand up to still any speech from Jensen “I know, he found you too but that is not going to happen this time. Providing you stay off active duty he isn’t even going to know you’re back.”
“Well, it’s not like he can torture and kill my husband twice is it?” It was a bitter and sarcastic remark and Chad ignored it.
“I have to say I’m surprised Jen. Why the sudden turnaround?”
Jensen picked up his faded leather document wallet, unbuckled it and took out his own folder. He placed it in front of Chad and opened the cover.
“Caitlin Doe.” He said firmly, tapping the photograph held with a single paperclip. I get to ask questions, see records and it gets approved as part of this investigation. He sat back and waited for Chad to skim through the file.
Chad sucked in air noisily as he considered the demand. “We can’t approve anything in the field and it’s not a good idea. It would be a very, very bad idea to hit the streets asking about this.”
Jensen nodded “Just the paper trail.” Mentally he crossed his fingers and added the words “while on police time” but Chad didn’t have to know that.
“Do you honestly think she could be one of ours?” Detective Murray asked.
“Nah. She’s alive, the cuts are outside his MO and what would be the odds? I reckon the rest of her injuries are close enough though and so’s the timescale.”
“Good enough. OK. You got a deal Jenny-boy. You want to get to work?”
The rest of the afternoon was spent organizing resources and signing requisition forms. As afternoon wore into evening Chad refilled their coffee cups for the umpteenth time and rested a reassuring hand on Jensen’s arm. “I’ll leave a summary on the new findings but we should discuss them briefly.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You can still back out of this if it’s too tough Jen.”
“No! no.” He ran a hand through his hair and chewed at his lower lip, “This” and he pointed vaguely “This was supposed to help. Moving I mean and there’s some relief in not seeing the old places but it doesn’t scrub the memories away. Sure as hell doesn’t stop the nightmares. Besides Chad, the editing is getting old. What else can I really do? This I was good at.” He looked defeated.
“Jeez Jen what the hell are you talking about? You ARE good at it! Don’t sell yourself short and don’t give me crap about not being good at anything else. I was there at school and you were the fucking golden boy. Don’t get me angry with you.”
“Can you just stop bitching me out and get on with this already?” Jensen flexed his fist in frustration.
Chad breathed out, silently counting to ten “I guess.”
Continued in part 18 here: anniespinkhouse.livejournal.com/6039.html