It didn't seem to matter what happened the night before. The feeling of comfort wrapped around her would have given her the same reaction. The warm sensation lacing her body, the gentle, calming breaths swirling around her; in the end it all made her feel the exact same.
Like she was home.
The ringing of the phone, however, seemed to snap her out of it.
Hazel's eyes opened, the glassy orbs dripping with sleep glazing over every surface she could spot. A TV, the coffee table, the portraits hanging against the walls. A living room. She was in a living room.
Her head dipped, falling into something warm. Whatever she had been lying on shifted. Feeling so, the brunette attempted to stand, getting ready to push herself off of the couch and stretch out the kinks she felt in her muscles, but something strong stopped her. Something she hadn't been expecting.
Her eyes turned to her side and looked up, her body curving forwards into whatever she had fallen asleep against. Or rather, who she had fallen asleep into.
It took a instant beat of her heart to see Nathan's peaceful, resting face looming just over her. The gentle breaths escaping his mouth brushing against the front of her scalp, causing the stray hairs to quiver.
All the kinks in her body melted.
Nathan had slept with her. Well. Slept with her. In the literal sense. If it had been figurative, a lot more would be happening rather than a beat red face and a bubbling speech box.
She was just about to speak, say something, do something, until another ring from the phone snapped her head to glance in that direction.
The phone. Maybe that was her salvation. A way to escape her flustered, fumbling speech and regain composure before the male awoke.
It wasn't like she hated it. That's what her mind was murmuring as she stumbled towards the landline. She didn't. It was one of the best sleeps she had had in ages. But she wasn't sure how to react from this point onwards. Was Nathan aware of this? How would he react when he woke up? Did she just make everything awkward and uncomfortable?
So many questions were swirling in her mind that as she mumbled a greeting to whoever was on the other line, she could hardly hear them state who they were. She stood silently, her eyes squinting at the notepad resting beside the device's charging station. "I-I'm sorry?" She mumbled softly. She couldn't tell if she was just nervous or if it was the grogginess as to why she's was having trouble remaining focused.
There was still, sarcastic silence on the other end until a voice finally sighed. "Ms. Daniels?"
She blinked, her auburn orbs dancing around the stand searching for a familiarity in his voice. "Yes?" She drew out the sound on the 'y', hoping to buy herself time. Nothing.
The male sighed again. "This is Doctor Richards calling. About my client, Vic Gates? This is the right number, correct?" Her eyes widened. "I don't have all day to do this."
She could feel her cheeks flare with embarrassment and a pinch of annoyance. He made the choice to call her, after all. She bit down on her cheek holding back a frustrated sigh. "Yes, that's me. I apologize, Doctor."
Frustrated silence. But through the blaring irritation she could hear the flipping of pages and whistles from his nose. "Well, I have the answers to the questions you asked earlier,"
"Yes?" Maybe she sounded a little too anxious as there was a stunned pause at the other end.
"Well," He breathed again, a grunt working its way up in the back of his throat. "If I must be honest, I don't know where you received your facts from."
Hazel blinked in confusion, her head tilting back in bewilderment. "Uh," There was a rustling behind her, and luckily the sudden fling back to the case calmed the flaming red that was once in her cheeks, giving her the courage to turn around as she spoke. "What?"
Nathan sat upright, his hair a mess as he turned to watch the girl on the phone. His eyes - while large and filled with life - had a gentle wisp of sleep cast over them, like a spell that allowed him to sleep so peacefully at night.
"There was never a prescription written."
Hazel stood in stunned silence, her eyes meeting Nathan's. Realizing the panic laced behind her auburn orbs his gaze lost its sweet undertone and faded more serious, weakly pushing himself to his feet. Quickly, Hazel slammed down on the speaker button, not moving any other features of her body.
"I never assigned him any of the medications you're claiming Mr. Gates has. He doesn't have any of those cases to begin with." Hazel stood in stunned silence her mouth gaping open as she watched Nathan's expression fall into the same stunned silence she was in. "I hope you're aware that prank calling can get you fined, madam."
Hazel shook her head, then stopped realizing she was the only one who could see it. She turned back to the charging station, exposing her side to Nathan. "No - no sir, it's a real question. Someone wrote him a diagnosis. He's in the psychiatric ward at the General Hospital as we speak."
More silence, but it seemed to be emitting less anger than before. "Pardon?" His voice soft and feathery called to her. Interesting how his tone changed based on who had the upper-hand.
"Mr. Vic Gates was admitted to the psychiatric hospital for claimed cases of OCD and Schizophrenia. He tampered with a crime scene and those were the excuses we were given. He had a diagnosis from you?"
Silence. Maybe he was now shaking his head on the other end of the line. "No, I never wrote a prescription for that. He's a healthy man, no signs of either of those."
"Maybe that's why he said they were hardly noticeable," Hazel mumbled to herself; however, Richards seemed to pick up on it. Nathan shifted to his other leg to lean against as the two spoke, Hazel's stunned gaze never shifting.
"Whoever wrote that is a fraud. I never gave him a prescription."
"We're on it. Thank you, sir." Before giving him a chance to speak, she hung up. Maybe that caused yet another bitter sigh out of him.
Hazel couldn't quite tell where she was mentally as she took a few dumbfounded steps away from the phone, hugging her arms around her waist. Was this a massive bound forwards or a huge step back? The answer was clear; whoever tampered with Vic's prescription was somehow involved with the crime scene. Maybe even the crime itself.
"Woah," Nathan breathed.
They were involved with the murder.
"Then what in the hell is going on with Gates?"
Everything was a setup.
Hazel's eyes widened. Her head knocked up. Her hands flopped down. Her legs took a weak step backwards. The air seemed to get sucked out of her lungs like a vacuum as she desperately struggled to breath, her thoughts in a cage of oxygen-less bars. "Sinclair," She finally managed out.
Nathan turned, hoping to better understand what she said. Noticing the struggles she had with breathing he leaning forwards, but she rested a hand against his arm before he got too close, assuring him she was fine - as well as balancing herself. Her legs felt as if they had lost all blood.
"Sinclair," She cried out. Louder, air flowing into her lungs like a river of ideas, of emotion. "Sinclair." She looked up, eyes crashing against Nathan's, his filled to it's peak with uncertainty.
"What does--"
"Sinclair's story. I-it doesn't match up anymore." She was stumbling and stuttering, she didn't care. She could sense the slow understanding in Nathan's eyes as they slowly began their expansion
"Gates isn't on medication because he doesn't have any illnesses."
"So that means that's Vic's story is credible." Hazel gasped, hands flying over her mouth, allowing the air to continue to flow through her fingers into her awaiting, empty stream.
Suddenly, as if a light switch snapped inside of both of them upon the impact in their eyes, they froze. Grew grim. Stood straight.
"We need to find Sinclair." Hazel bit down on her lip, her mind churning with ideas. With thoughts, possibilities. "We . . . we need to go question him and - and the rest of the staff." She was fumbling, her heart was racing. Sinclair was withholding something. Some information. They needed it.
Nathan could feel a smile etching its way onto his face, his soul was thrilled that they had a major lead - potentially one that could crack the case - but his heart was happy seeing the girl ecstatic about putting the puzzle pieces together.
She froze, her face falling back into it's once serious state. "I-I need to go get ready." She breathed, darting in a fast walk into his bedroom. "I just need to quickly wash my face and teeth and maybe put on a clean shirt and then we can go,"
Hearing her mumbling on and on as she gathered her cluttered things and moved into his bathroom made him grin, working his way to his closet to throw on a fresh pair of clothes.
Today. It felt like today was the day.
-------------
Despite being crunched for time, Nathan was amazed at the wonders Hazel could do.
She knew she needed to look presentable, otherwise they wouldn't take her seriously when she ran into the station and cried bloody murder. So, instead, she knew she needed to look as nice as possible, as quickly as possible.
Simple light blue jeans with a maroon coloured, knit sweater gracing overtop, looming over her waist and brushing against her hips. She graced her locket, as she did on days where she felt she needed the extra support, as well as a pair of brown boots and - because of the time crunch - loose flowing hair that curled slightly at the shoulders and cascaded down her front.
But, regardless of how presentable she looked, none of it seemed to matter.
"He got released?" Nathan gawked.
The man behind the desk shrugged, scratching his blonde stubble in unawareness. The two had decided to stop by the police station to briefly fill them in and hopefully get some backup support for whatever they wished to pursue next. Somehow unsurprisingly, everything seemed to get more and more difficult.
"He didn't have anything wrong. His doctor called and cleared out the entire ordeal." The man commented, stretching his arms behind his head. "There was no reason to keep him there."
"He's a key suspect in an ongoing murder investigation." Nathan spat, blood boiling. Hazel could practically feel the steam coming out of his ears. "You didn't think to bring him here for questioning?"
"We can locate him as soon as we can and we'll bring him in."
"Good." Nathan retorted as he made his way to the door, motioning for Hazel to follow behind him to which she did. As quickly as possible. "We''ll contact you if anything develops. Find him." Those were his final words before the two of them vanished out the door.
Hazel scurried close behind him, blood pumping in and through her ears as she walked. She was so terrified and thrilled she could hardly hear him claim that the next stop was Sinclair's interrogation.
Immediately, a part of her filled with anxiety.
Something about the fact he had something to hide put her on the edge. What was going to happen when they went to confront him, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that it needed to be done. She needed to suck it up.
For once in her life, this was the thing she needed to push her anxiety to the side for. It could not (and it would not) get in the way of her finding the answers she craved.
Nathan, sensing her nerves with his sixth sense, gave a small sigh, calming down his blood levels to be able to speak calmly. He turned a corner, and began. "Don't worry, we got this. It's just a few simple questions and then we're done." He glanced over, her eyes remained glued to the road intently. Maybe because she wanted the car to move faster. Maybe because she wanted the car to move slower. "The police know where we are. Security will know we're up there. Everything will be fine."
The rest of the drive was quiet, and Nathan attempted to move as quickly and safely as possible. The sooner they got there, the sooner they talked to him, the sooner they got this done. Once they parked and finally got inside the building, they had never run faster in their lives. They took to the elevator in a hustle, flashing their IDs to the front desk as they darted to the elevators and slammed on the 8th floor button.
Then, finally, the door flew open and the two darted out, swiftly making their way to Sinclair's office door but attempting to remain as calm and quiet as possible. The less suspicion they drew, the better. They just needed to get to him before he caught wind of his "partner-in-crime" getting discharged.
Nathan turned to Hazel, tucking a finger under her chin and tilting her head to look up at him. He gestured for her to take a deep breath in and out with him, followed by brushing his hands soothingly against her shoulders. If they looked out of breath, even slightly off, he had every right to not answer a single thing they asked.
He reached his knuckles up, gently rapping against the door and remained still and patient.
Silence.
Silence.
Nothing.
He glanced back briefly at Hazel, who was fiddling with her nails in her hands. She didn't look up to meet his gaze, she was too fixated on the door. On what to say when they got inside. On how to act natural.
He knocked again,
And yet again nothing.
His eyes darted down to the doorknob, glistening in its innocence and all knowingness. It saw and knew everything. What Nathan would give to be a fly on the wall.
He reached for it, turning it with hopes and prayers until it creaked open. No click. No budge.
It wasn't closed.
Nathan turned back once more, Hazel's eyes finally glancing up to meet his now that something had developed with posed a more major threat than before. He reached out, pushing the door open more with his fingers.
"Nathan," She could feel herself breathe, but it came out as more of a cautious whimper.
He reached a hand back, setting it against her stomach and pushing her slightly behind him, allowing her head to loom just behind his shoulder.
They walked in silently, Nathan's hand clamping down tightly on the side of the door as he squeezed his way through, his hand reaching back to tug Hazel in more.
"It's empty, we're good for now."
Hazel stood up straight, cautiously staying close as Nathan drew closer to his desk to snoop around. But neither of them needed to be a professional to spot the letter tapped politely against his office chair; 'Read Me' typed against the front flap.
"Nathan,"
"It's okay," He breathed softly. "I'll get it. I'll read it." He needed to keep his voice soft. Mainly because he needed Hazel to remain as calm as possible for her to be stable enough to work. Also considering at this point they were trespassing and searching without a warrant. Being busted would not be good for either of them.
He gloved his hands with the gloves he had stuffed in the bottom of his pocket, then reached out and began carefully peeling the letter open. His eyes scanning every inch of the page and envelope it was in, looking for a sign to determine who it was from or what it contained.
It flapped open.
He took a deep breath. "Mr. Thomas Sinclair is involved with a mess that must be dealt with swiftly and in a specific fashion. Until the information can be handled and disposed of, he will remain in our care." Nathan went silent.
All typed neatly and folded perfectly. Someone, whoever this was, meant business.
"Oh god," Hazel breathed, her hands resting against the sides of her head. "He got kidnapped?"
"Held hostage, I assume." Nathan breathed quietly, folding the note back into it's envelope and clutching it in one of his hands, one at a time passing the gloves followed by the note to her. "It seems like they have plans to kill him."
"He must know something. Or he must have seen something,"
"And this is happening to keep it a secret." Nathan finished, adjusting his coat and giving a once-over of the room. "We need to get to the station, now. We're calling the police on our way over."
Hazel nodded, Nathan escorting her out first and swinging the door entirely closed on their way out, allowing it to finally click shut.
-------------
It was 7am.
Nathan and Hazel had been milling about the police station for hours. Police had been sent back to the lock-down and investigate Sinclair's office, and the letter had been sent off for fingerprints and came up dry. All of a sudden, this became NYPD's major case. Someone was being held hostage and was threatened to be murdered to keep a killer at large a secret, and they hadn't a single trace to go on.
No one in the office had seen anyone unfamiliar come in or leave, video cameras weren't installed on every floor so they provided no help whatsoever in seeing who had access to his office. Every back door and crook imaginable was open for exists.
That was evidence they had been milling over and digesting since they had returned to the station the previous evening. A mere 12 hours earlier. Sure they had been allowed to leave once or twice. Once was so they could go on a nice 3am walk, and the other was so they could sit outside on the front steps, waiting for a police team to return so they could assist with whatever they found and brought back as evidence.
Somehow, they still drew up blanks.
"This is starting to get a bit painful, Nathan."
Nathan clenched his fists, standing tall and lifting his head up from the front desk it had been leaning against, removing his arms from it and resting them at his sides.
"David," He began, bitterness lacing every ounce of his voice. "Had your team actually started on this case when it happened instead of deciding to stop drug deals on the streets as your 'top priority'," he mocked, hand quotes and all. "Then maybe this wouldn't be as big of a mess as it is now."
David scoffed, crossing his arms in disgust. "We stopped plenty of massive drug cartels. We saved plenty of lives and threw 25 folks in jail."
"Yet you couldn't stop one murderer who's now going to claim 3 innocent lives." He shook his head, watching as his brother seethed. Nathan didn't care. "Good call." He turned, wanting to head back to the coffee machine and grab himself another cup when he saw Hazel.
She was leaning against a separate desk at the far side of the room. She had a pen and was jotting down some notes, making quick talk with the woman at the desk in front of her. As the officer stood to leave, commenting something about filing a report, Hazel's head rested against the side of the desk, her pen dropping down against the surface.
He gave a weak smile, walking up and placing a hand against her back, hoping to get her attention by rubbing the fabric against her skin gently. "Hazel,"
She stood taller removing her head from her desk and giving a small smile to her partner. Her hands sat peacefully against the ledge in front of her, not wanting to yet remove them as it seemed to be keeping her standing upright. "Yeah, Nathan?"
He gave another small smile. The agitated anger he felt a moment previous due to his brother's ignorance melted by her calming smile. "How are you holding up?"
She shrugged, tucking a loose strand of messy hair behind her ear. "I've been better. But I'm doing okay." He smiled tenderly, their eyes meshing peacefully.
Around them stood utter chaos. The case they had been working for what felt like ages finally getting the attention it deserved. The attention they both knew it needed long ago. Yet, during the time they should be panicking the most, they kept each other calm with nothing more than tender smiles and whispered words.
Somehow, despite the world crumbling around them, despite the fact that everything they had worked for was coming to its peak, they were lost in each other's worlds while the world was lost in the case that was theirs.
They both beamed at each other, the care they felt immense. The emotions they felt, real. Maybe 7:30am in a police station was the best time to feel them.
"Hey, hey, hey! We gotta call!" The only words that seemed to snap them out of their trance in each other.
"Is it who we're looking for?" David yelled back shushing the other swarming officers in the room as he drew closer.
A click and a beep was all that was needed to answer his question.
A voice, warbled and distorted, sounded across the room. The other officers remained still and silent. Nathan swiftly patted Hazel's shoulder, moving as quietly as possible closer towards the phone.
"Listen carefully," It warbled. David crossed his arms. Nathan and Hazel stood hauntingly still, daunting expressions stricken on their features. "You have one chance and one chance only. This man, Thomas Sinclair, has committed many sins. But, I have been told that even the sickened, deserve a second chance."
David clenched his fists, looming in closer to the phone line, spinning his finger towards one of the men on the other side of the room who was desperately attempting to track the source.
"So, in case anyone wishes to save one of the damned, he can be found in Wicker Elementary in the next hour."
Daunting silence, a brief chuckle.
"Better hurry, nobody likes a late guest."
The call clicked, and ended.
"Anything Dan?"
"Cut too quick David, couldn't get a signal."
"Dammit." David growled, tossing his hands out of his hair, allowing it's once perfect shape to be strewn into a mess. Unless it was dire, he hated ruining his looks. It tainted his pristine image. Nathan knew this as a fact.
"It's gotta be Vic." He grumbled.
Hazel turned, eyebrows squished quizzically. "Vic?"
Nathan shrugged, rubbing the front of his scalp in jitters and nerves. "He's probably mad at Sinclair for falsely selling him out. He wants to get rid of the guy." He sighed, studying her fragile and worn face. "It's the only thing that makes sense. Maybe the only reason he's throwing us this bone is because he doesn't want to get busted."
"Well he's still gonna be." David spat, snatching a gun off of his desk and slamming it into its hollister against his leg, snagging his jacket off of a nearby chair and tossing it over his shoulders. "Let's move people. No chances are being taken today."
Nathan turned to Hazel, setting a hand against her shoulder blade. "Ready for this?" He breathed.
Their hair was messy, their clothes wrinkled, their eyes only slightly deteriorated. But their passion, their desire to finish, was as if they had slept for days.
"Let's go."