"Mister Hunter?" Seth called out. There was no response from the man. He only stared at the flowers on the seat next to the bed. Seth walked closer to him. "I'm so sorry for what you're going through. Believe me, I am."

"Then stop wasting time here and get out there to look for my wife's killer." Raymond whispered. Seth paused in his steps and frowned.

"We are. Right now in fact." Seth took a couple more steps towards the man, sliding a hand into the pocket of his pants.

"I didn't try to kill myself. I just... I just wanted something else to help take some pain away." Raymond gripped on tightly to the sheets. "They say that I didn't cut deep enough because I was too drunk and my coordination was off. They say I'm... lucky." He let out a sob. "Whats so lucky about living when you want to die?"

The detective frowned and lifted his hand to his eyes to rub the tears away. "I understand just how you feel, Mister–"

"Raymond."

Seth nodded. "Raymond. I'm sorry for everything you've gone through." He reached over and placed a hand on the mans shoulder.

"I'm all alone," Raymond whispered, "please, I want someone close to me." Seth raised a brow, knowing exactly what Raymond was asking for. He cleared his throat and took off his dress shoes and leaving his suit jacket on the chair next to the flowers. He got into the bed with Raymond, hugging him gently from behind. The moment when Seth made contact with him, Raymond burst into tears.

He truly was the loneliest man in the world.


-x-


Walter looked around in search for the nurse named Jermey Brown. He turned the corner, spotting the man he was looking for standing at the vending machine and looking at the options. Pretending like he was going to also get a snack from the vending machine, he pulled out his wallet and casually walked over.

"Hm." Walter tapped his foot against the floor, staring at the options. None of them looked pleasing to him.

"The popcorn chips are the best. But I felt like trying something new." Jermey sighed and ran his fingers through his long brown hair.

"Is that so?" Walter drifted in his words. He turned to look at Jermey.

"Oh, I saw you earlier on the elevator. You're that detective that's investigating Emily's murder..."

Walter felt like frowning. His attempt at being discreet failed for the most part. He knew that during his time questioning the man that he would find out that he was a detective that was looking into the case of his co-worker, but he wanted to be the one to tell him instead of him already knowing. Regardless, Walter nodded his head.

"Shit. It sucks what happened to Emily," Jermey sighed. "I mean, I was so close to her too. We and a couple of nurses would all get drinks after our shifts had ended at times. It was always nice to wind down after a long day of having patients either throwing up on you or peeing all over you. The time spent with her was just great." He looked down at the dollar in his hands. "She was like a sister to me."

"You probably already know what I'm gonna ask," Walter said.

Jermey sighed. "I was here, working a shift the entire time during that day. You can check my timecard."

Walter nodded. "Alright then. I believe you." He bit down on his bottom lip, noticing the way that Jermey stared at George Washington who was the man on the dollar bill. "You don't seem very sad about her death."

"I've cried all my tears out from '92. I'm all out of them." Jermey said.

"Right. I know I read the report." Walter cleared his throat while he leaned against the vending machine. "Did Emily ever seem off to you? Maybe she told you something or behaved in a way that you thought was weird."

Jermey looked up at the detectives ocean blue eyes. "I don't know if this counts as weird but one day the paramedics brought in a man with a GSW to the chest. Dead center. After only a few minutes of arriving, he died from blood loss since he was found nearly an hour after getting shot. Emily was so freaked out. I figured that she was just a bit shaken up from how chaotic it all was. But she stood in the corner of rooms, sometimes staring off into space."

Walter tilted his head to the side a bit. "Who was the man that was shot?"

Jermey shrugged his shoulder. "We don't know. He was never identified. No ID or drivers license. Nothing. The police never found the shooter either."

Walter had taken out his small notepad and a pen, writing down all the information he heard that he considered useful. "And how long ago was this?"

"A month ago."

Walter stopped writing and stared up at the nurse. It was recent. It made Walter feel suspicious of something. But he didn't want to make it seem obvious. He wrote down the last bit of information before tucking his notepad into the pocket of his shirt. "Thank you." He said.

Jermey shrugged and slid the dollar bill into the slot before pushing in a number. The vending machine pushed forward a bag of Chex Mix. He moved his hand under the slot to grab the snack.

"Find this bastard, will you?" He sighed and walked away from Walter.

Walter looked at the vending machine, staring at the popcorn chips. He didn't like anything that the vending machine had to offer. Everything looked displeasing. But he decided to try Jermey's suggestion. He pulled out a dollar from his old wallet and slid it into the vending machine, pushing a button on the number that was under the bag. He watched as the machine pushed forward the bag, throwing it over the edge. He slid his hand under the slot and grabbed the snack, opening the bag. He scrunched up his nose at the smell. But never judge a book by its cover, right? He grabbed a chip, taking a small bite of it.

"Not bad." He whispered.





(A/N) So yesterday I went out for the first time since Wednesday and apparently the majority of my area and other towns don't have power. The snow storm was that bad. But this morning I woke up and my WiFi was working pretty decently for a bit until it became shit again.

Also, I see the number of reads on the chapters going up, yet the votes and comments stay the same. It would mean a lot to me if you can vote and comment! It helps a lot.

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