'' Repeating History ''

'' Coping Mechanism ''

After that rapid-fire back-and-forth shouting match and realizing that he’s not going to leave it be until he gets an answer he’s satisfied with, the detective shuts down. They shift their gaze away and allow their eyes to unfocus, dissociating, as they refuse to respond to him. Not caring if it’s childish.

     “Oh, we’re doing this now? Okay. Bowie. You’re not three, grow up. You can’t just. Hey,” he reaches over and grabs their shoulder, earning a violent reaction, as the younger detective swings on him, hitting him in the jaw as they yell out in a very sudden and volatile manner, more emotion than actual words coming out of them.

     “DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME.”

There’s an intense energy-filled silence that follows; like the air itself has become static. The two stared at each other. Making stern eye contact. Bowie appears deeply upset. More so than usual. Their furrowed brow, and lip twitching as it nearly curls up into a snarl. They’re more angry than sad, but still, a light amount of tears stream down their cheeks.

When they don’t look away for quite a while, nor show any signs of feeling ill from the eye contact, the older detective swallows softly–well aware that he’s fucked up–and breaks eye contact. Finally putting the car in motion and getting them to where they need to be. With that same hot energy living in the silence.

Arriving on the scene, the tension between Agent Carter and Bowie is still intense. But there’s work to be done. So they get out of the car without speaking a word to one another.

Examining the scene, Bowie is glad that the forensic and primary CSI teams have already come through and handled all of the hard work. Making it a whole lot easier for them to come in afterward and do their job.

     “Two victims,” Detective Carter starts, earning a sudden jolt from the startled Bowie. Silence was still the expectation between them.

He hesitates for quite a while before softly clearing his throat and continuing, “The female is Jessica Arlo. Aged thirty-two. Worked at a grocery store up the road. Relationship to victim number two, Engaged. The wedding was planned for early this summer. They’d been together for four years.” He pauses.

Bowie stands quietly for a moment. Focusing on the subtle movements of their body. Finger twitching. Involuntary swaying from side to side in the mild breeze. Their gaze focused on the faces of the two dead people as snow drifted past them. Growing thicker and heavier with time.

     “Our male victim is Tim Hunt. Thirty-five. Worked as an auto mechanic.” The older of the two finishes explaining. Standing back with his hands buried in his coat pockets, whilst watching Bowie put on latex gloves to touch and lean on the car, getting closer to inspect the bodies.

    “No known issues between the two of them. Upon speaking to family and friends, it seems most if not all of them regarded these two as the perfect, loving couple,” Detective Carter adds, loosely gesturing to the two deceased individuals.

     “Any kids?” Bowie asks quietly. Keeping their gaze focused as they search the car and inspect the two bodies in silence.

Their superior shakes his head. They flick their gaze up upon not receiving a verbal response and see this. Going back to focusing.
     “I’m not seeing any visible wounds on these two. And the frostbite that’s settling in is in a relatively early stage. They weren’t out here very long. At least not without heat,” Bowie states confidently. Looking up through the car at their superior who’s standing on the other side of the vehicle.

As they lock eyes there’s an awkwardness returned to the air again. A silent stiffness added to the already sharp feeling air. Making it hard for Bowie to take full breaths. They gag finally, lowering their gaze and swallowing the bile that had risen in their throat.