Densi Forever

A Dying Man Tells No Lies

Hetty's POV

I humm as I sip my tea, reading the newspaper. I feel a stare and wonder. I'm the only one here, who could possibly- ah yes. I almost forgot about him. Who else would come to the office at midnight?

"Hello, Mr. Deeks," I say, not looking up. "Wow, that's just creepy. How do you- you know what, I don't wanna know." He responds. I look up and see that he needs a shave badly, his clothes are disgusting, and his mouth is still cloaked in blood.

"Mr. Deeks, I must admit, you look like.... crap," I say, montioning to his appearance. He chuckles and says, "Oh Hetty, you break my heart." I smile at him. "But something tells me your not here to talk about you," I say.

"Oh how you read my mind. Well, here goes: Where's my partner?" He asks, his tone turning serious. "She's just mourning, Detective. You needn't worry. She's ok," I answer.

"But how do you know that? You don't know where she is, no one does. I've watched her house, she hasn't come home. She hasn't come here either. It's been weeks, Hetty. Weeks. I'm scared," he says, his voice breaking. He looks away, trying to choke back tears.

"Mr. Deeks, your partner thinks you're dead. And she thinks it's her fault. Just imagine what she's feeling right now. She's going through a lot," I sadly, walking around the side of my desk to stand in front of him.

"But she shouldn't, it wasn't her fault! She didn't realize she would trigger a reaction like that! It wasn't-" He starts to say, getting worked up, but is cut off by a fit of coughing, resulting in him coughing up blood into his hand. 

"Mr. Deeks, please, go get better, or you really will die," I say, patting him on the back. He looks at me with agony in his eyes. "Why Hetty? Why can't I tell her?"  He asks in a whisper.

"Because, Mr. Deeks. If she knew, she would ask questions that can't be asked. And we don't want her to end up hurt," I respond calmly.

"But Hetty, look at her, she is in pain! Right now! And I can't bear knowing that she's out there- right now- without help. Without any backup. Without her partner. She could be hurt or put in danger or killed for all we know! Please Hetty, please. Give me one more reason," he begs. I am forced to go to my last resort.

"Because look at you, Mr.Deeks, you are dying. Right now. And why get her hopes up for her to be let back down. Her heart will be broken again." I say.

He looks me dead in the eye and I know I won't be able to say no this time. "But Hetty, she'll know it wasn't her fault. She'll be able to move on. It'll be hard, yea, but she'll get to enjoy the time we have left. Please Hetty, just please. You never know, I might not die. I have a 50/50 chance. And you know those doctors, they're usually wrong, I probably have a 99/1 chance. Come on. Please. THis is my partner. And I don't want her to spend the rest of her life in pain, blaming herself for something she had no control over. Please," he says, his puppy dog eyes boring into my soul.

I sigh. "Fine Mr. Deeks, go find her." He beams, hugs me, and then jogs to the door. I watch as he runs out, that goofy smile still on his blood-caked face. He's such a puppy dog. But he was wrong about one thing.

"She won't be able to move on, Mr. Deeks. Trust me," I whisper, and then sip my tea.