|Abel Parrish + Fenrir (devourer) wrote in paxletalelogs,|
@ 2017-03-24 11:28:00
|Entry tags:||ares, fenrir|
these are the words of another victim
Who: Abel & Daniel.
What: Abel gets an update about Daniel's parolee.
Where: LA County courthouse.
When: Two days after this thread.
Abel was looking down at his phone, scrolling through another work email as he crossed the front entrance to the LA County courthouse. The day was a bright one, spring in full bloom; a blue sky arched overhead, making everything seem just fine.
As he glanced up, he spotted Daniel Ciin in one corner of his peripheral vision; Abel paused, and waved, drawing the other man's attention. Glancing at his watch, he realized he had time for this short diversion, and altered his path to cross with the other man's.
"Daniel, again so soon," he said, taking the other man's hand in a firm grip. "How's everything working out?"
Daniel's jaw went tight. "You want the work-appropriate answer or the real one?" he asked. He shook his head, shoulders slumping with his quiet sigh. "Andre was doin' great right up until he wasn't. The house mom said he settled in fine, kept to himself but helped around the place and all. Then a couple days ago she finds him dead in his room." His jaw clenched again, working silently as he thought of what to say. "Did you notice anything in your consult? Anything at all? I never got this vibe from him."
Confusion, then surprise washed over Abel's face. His head bobbed, uncertainty written in the movement. "He certainly seemed withdrawn, but no more so than anyone else who's just done hard time and then put back out into the world." His brows drew together, his posture straightening as though he were putting on a suit; a mien that allowed a different sort of personality to flow through.
"He did seem... Wary. Uncertain of himself. It seemed less like he wanted something of his own, and was having some difficulty adjusting to taking responsibility." Abel lowered his voice, keeping his next words private. "How certain are you that your...assumption of his readiness was his actual readiness, and not," he shrugged, working to delicately place the phrasing, "a projection of what you wanted for him?"
Immediately, Daniel bristled. "Very. I was born at night, but it wasn't last night. I've done this long enough to know the difference, believe me." His head canted curiously. Anger flashed in his dark eyes. "If you saw that shit, why didn't you say somethin' to me? The fuck did you think I sent him to you for? A fuckin' social call?"
"I did, Daniel," Abel replied, looking taken aback. He dug into his briefcase, pulling out a report he'd created after the fact, one that he had not filed with the county but looked as though it had been with the proper signatures and stamps. He held it out for Daniel's perusal, believing it would be utterly believable. He'd spent too much time covering his tracks to slip up now. "This is a copy I kept for my files, but I left one with your department. I was told it would be hand delivered to you."
"Well it fuckin' wasn't." Daniel snatched the paper from Abel's hands, his gaze darting over the damning lines. His heart sank into the very bottom of his stomach. He looked up from the page. "It wasn't, and you better believe I'm gonna deal with whoever's to blame. But seriously, man, you don't think this is somethin' you should've called about? I don't know how other assholes do their jobs, but my phone's on all day every day. Next time you think one of my guys is gonna play David Carradine in the halfway house, why don't you pick up the phone or hell, walk downstairs, and give me a little heads up?"
Concern drained from Abel's face completely, replaced with irritation. "I said he was withdrawn, Daniel, I didn't think he was suicidal. I realize you have a large caseload; did you not think others do as well? I know I said I'd do you a favor, but that does not extend to ensuring your department does its job." He kept his voice as even as possible, attempting to avoid laying the blame. "I'm sure this is very upsetting, but, of all people, I'd think you'd understand this is the sort of territory that comes with the job. If I didn't know better, Daniel, I'd think you were getting too attached to your cases."
"Oh, don't fuckin' put me on the couch." Daniel shoved the paper back at Abel, pinning it flat against his broad chest. "I told you I'd handle whoever fucked up on my end. And I'm askin' for a little professional courtesy from you in return. But you know what?" He threw up his hands, palms up in surrender. "You got too much work to do it right? I'll help you out. Don't you worry about seein' another one of my guys."
Abel shrugged, trying on a sincere mask. Daniel's reactions were by far interesting and too amusing for words. "You won't hear me crying. I hope this doesn't mean we can't be friendly with each other in other capacities. I really am sorry, Daniel; I had no idea things would shake out like this." He glanced down at his watch, stepping back from the man with a slightly hesitant gesture. "I've got an appointment in ten; a little cramming to do beforehand. You know how it goes." He shrugged, trying to add some levity to the conversation; he had a good idea regarding Daniel's presumed reaction, but it was always best to test hypotheses.
It took all the collective force of Daniel's long home training to keep him from flipping the other man off. He could not trust himself to speak, and already sorrow and frustration with his own failings were eating away at his righteous fury. Before his own actions or words could betray him, he turned on his heel and skulked off.
The meter in Abel's head tilted toward true, the smile on his face more than a little self satisfied as he watched Daniel's figure flee. He'd have to make a few inquiries, ensure that the other man wasn't looking too hard into Andre's untimely demise, just to be certain that he himself was in no danger.
For the moment, though, he wallowed in his success, and headed inside the courthouse.