PSL Post for lieutenantantichrist

[leanonstuff]

[The killer was dead.

Norman had watched him fall after nearly swapping fates, a gruesome end for a truly deranged man. The following days found him swamped with attention, from media to the local cops and his fellow FBI agents, his head was swimming every time he had a moment alone. It was really a blessing when he was granted a few days off both to recover from his injuries and as a 'congratulations' for quickly solving a case that had become serious national news.

For the first time in awhile, as Norman lay on his DC apartment bed surrounded by a rare quiet, he felt pretty damn good about himself.

That was, until he took his next hit of Tripto.

He tried to get rid of the stuff, he really did. Flushed it down the toilet, hid it around the apartment, threw it out the window (not one of his better ideas), but somehow he always ended up with another vial in hand shortly after. Norman knew that the drug wasn't the sole problem too, maybe not even the most serious, but he couldn't part with ARI. He needed it for his job- how else would he have found Shaun in time?

Bleeding eyes haunted his dreams, more so since he knew such a thing could happen in reality again if he wasn't careful. As it turned out, all that time alone with his thoughts wasn't as nice as he'd hoped, and as such it was actually a relief when he returned to work. Norman knew that working for the FBI wasn't all glamorous; in fact, sitting behind a desk doing paperwork was more common for his job as a profiler than it was for most. He was well aware that he'd have to return to Philadelphia in order to officially close the case, as much as he loathed the thought of having to interact with Blake again. Maybe they wouldn't have to see each other, if he was lucky.

A few days later he found himself back in the precinct, only to be greeted by cheers, hugs and hearty pats on the back. Unexpected as this much praise was, Norman couldn't help but smile and make a couple silly quips to those who congratulated him. The first night there a big group of them went out to a local bar, apparently it had already been rented out for them that day, and brought the agent along to buy him drinks and continue lavishing him with praise. It seemed that they all wanted to be his friend now, something that admittedly felt pretty good for awhile but quickly became tiring. When the officers who had been chatting with him became distracted, Norman took his drink and retreated to a darker corner of the bar for a little break from the spotlight.]

Comments

[lieutenantantichrist]

[The one thing nobody in the city could stop talking about is the thing Blake wanted to forget.

Headlines. TV news. Goddamn internet. They were all pawing through anything and everything that could be dug up about the killer and waved around for the vultures. You couldn't open a goddamn newspaper without the front page blaring at you how how could this have happened? Details on page 4, psychoanalysis on page 6, interview with the killer's dementia-ridden mother on page 17. Fucking jackals.

Of course they'd come after Blake before the corpse was cold. For a second punching the bastard in the gut felt like it'd be worth the Lieutenant Involved in Origami Killer Case Assaults Reporter headlines, but he settled for slamming the door in his face.

He couldn't punch any of the people he'd really like to. There just happened to be a whole lot of heroin dealers and pimps getting their noses broken lately.

Blake spent a lot of time on the streets, especially on days when rumors were going around that one of those punchable faces was going to be showing up in the flesh. He spent the day tracking down a lead that ended in cornering the guy with a, Come on. Go ahead, do me a big favor and resist arrest.

Something of how he was feeling must have come across. The lousy jackass came along quietly.

So instead he came to his favorite bar after work to hunch over a beer for a while, and who should be there but the whole goddamn crew and the asshole they can't quit fawning over him. Blake refused to give in and leave. He was here first, damn it.

Then what did the asshole do but invade his territory.

For a while, Blake just looked at him.

Finally he grated out,]

Go ahead. Do it.