[center][url=http://fontmeme.com/handwriting-fonts/][img]http://fontmeme.com/embed.php?text=Okay%2C%20Let%27s%20be%20Detectives&name=ASafePlacetoFall.ttf&size=30&style_color=90C2AA[/img][/url][/center][center][sub]Collab between [@Bozo] and [@Narcotic Dollie][/sub][/center][hr] [hider=Who is this?] Kyle lets her go, untangling his arms from their hold on her as he murmurs, “I’ll see you around.” Nori watches him go, her stomach lurching at the thought of how she had just severed the relationship to the point where she might not be able to stitch it back together. [i]’It’s better this way, for now. I’d rather be unhappy if it meant he got to stay alive,’[/i] She reminds herself, but it still feels dreadful. The blonde makes it to the gate and the attendant lets her through without so much as batting an eyelash at her wardrobe. She remembers her phone buzzing earlier and digs it back out, hoping that it was Jen finally texting her back finally. A car flies by and someone rolls down the window to whistle at her, causing Nori to scowl and flip them the bird before unlocking her home screen to check her messages. [i]Who is this? --Detective Holland[/i] Nori stops walking and goes completely still, her mouth suddenly dry. Yellow eyes blink down at her screen, dumbfounded for a moment, before she starts typing briskly, her thumbs bumping into each other when her rapid pace makes them clumsy. [i]Detective Holland? Thank God, you never called after the fire and I thought the Weatherman had gotten you. Where did you go? I was worried. Are you at your office? I have some questions and I'd like to hear what happened during the stakeout. --Nori[/i] --- He had been reclining in his chair when his phone beeped again, the screen casting a light through the darkness, his bandaged face obscured in shadow. Interesting. He had not expected a reply so soon. Raising the device to his eyes, he read the message, his brows furrowing together as he tried to make sense of what she said. The words seemed familiar, sparked something fierce in his mind, much like recalling a bad memory. [i] I...don’t remember. Merely...awoke, bathed in flames. Stumbled back to my apartment and patched my self up with a pair of pliers and some morphine. Not sure if I still have shards of glass in my arm, but I don’t trust you enough to come help, “Nori.” [/i] -- Detective Holland Of course, Holland had added the quotation marks to make a point. He didn’t know who this girl was, what her agenda entailed, and so on and so forth. He paused. Oliver this. Oliver that. Detective Holland? What… “Fuck, my head!” He growled in anguish, falling to a knee as a mind splitting headache wracked his skull. By God, he could feel his flesh starting to [i]burn[/i] again. --- She hasn’t gotten very much farther down the road when her phone goes off again and as she reads it she starts to feel sick. [i]You’re not serious, right? Why haven’t you gone to the hospital? Jesus, you’re going to get an infection.[/i] Nori stops and gnaws at her bottom lip, not really sure what to do in this situation. If what he said was true then there was no way he shouldn’t be in an emergency room. But he was acting strange. Why did he put quotation marks by her name? Her fingers begin to move again, typing out the rest of her message and hitting the send button. [i]I’m coming to your office. If this is some kind of joke I will set you on fire myself, Detective Holland. --Nori[/i] The blonde switches directions, heading towards the side of town where Shine City Investigation Services was located. --- He tossed the empty bottle of tylenol to the floor, the empty container falling on the hardwood with an audible ‘clack.’ Six pills, and he still didn’t feel any better. “Fuckin’ shitty ass Jap products.” He grumbled, staring at his phone as it vibrated again. His eyes scanned over the message, then promptly widened as he began to comprehend its contents. This woman was coming over to his office? Without knowing her intentions, he couldn’t take any chances. [i] Let her come. [/i] He thought, [i] I’ll be waiting. [/i] The lights went off in his office, and he slinked back into the darkness. Just what could he do now with such a nerve rendering case of amnesia? [i] Just my fucking luck. [/i] --- Thirty five minutes and multiple double takes from strangers later, Nori was standing in front of Detective Holland’s door, but it was locked and all the lights were out, just like it had been the night before. “Detective?” she calls, knocking on the door, but there isn’t a response. “Are you there?” No one answers. Nori shifts anxiously, pulling her phone out again and shooting off another text. [i]’I don’t know who this is, but stop messing with me. There isn’t anyone here. --Nori[/i] The blonde knocks on the door one more time, but it remains silent and dark in his office. The DJ is unbelievably frustrated because she thought everything was going to be alright and that Oliver had just taken a secret vacation or something. She growls and kicks at the door hard, causing the ‘Welcome’ mat under her foot to shift just a touch with the momentum of it, revealing something shining on the old hardwoods. [i]’Is that the key?’[/i] she thinks, dropping down to pick up the the object and sure enough, that’s exactly what it is. [i]’Do people still leave stuff out like this?’[/i] she muses as she gets back to her feet and moves closer to the door, sliding the key into the door knob and turning it until she hears the lock give a quiet, ‘click’. “Detective Holland?” she calls again, pushing the door open and taking a tentative step inside. It’s so dark that she can’t hardly make out anything. All of a sudden Nori starts to get a nervous feeling like something isn’t right, but she just takes a deep breath and takes another step forward. She had to be sure that he wasn’t here or she would never stop thinking about it. [/hider] [hider=Please, for the love of God, don’t shoot me!] Holland saw her come in through the front door, surprising even himself. He knew he should’ve hid that key in a better location. For a detective, he really was that fucking obvious and easy to figure out. Two steps and he was on her, pressing a loaded gun into her head as he pulled the action back with a metallic ‘clack.’ “That’s far enough. Identify yourself, and maybe I won’t have to refurbish my wooden floorings with your brains.” He growled, pressing the barrel in deeper just to prove a point. “No--Nori Haywood,” she says quickly, stumbling over her words as she yanks her hands up in an obvious, ‘Please, for the love of God, don’t shoot me’ gesture. “The woman on the phone.” He stated aloud to no one in particular, as if informing the house rather than himself. “I understand now. I thought I told you to stay away. I just got burned alive and can’t recall a damn thing beyond that.” He loosened his grip on his handgun, raising the weapon away slightly from her forehead. “What’s your relation to that?” Holland once again inquired, “Quickly now.” He takes the barrel off her forehead but keeps it trained on her and Nori can feel herself trembling. She’d never been on the other end of a loaded firearm before and the overwhelming feeling of fear was making it harder and harder to stay steady. “You took a case for me,” the DJ tells him and her eyes are slowly beginning to adjust to the darkness. “There was a word written on the door to my apartment in blood. I didn’t have a lot of money, but you took the case anyways,” she explains and now she can see that his entire face is covered in red stained gauze. “You really did get set on fire,” Nori whimpers, her eyes going hot as she realizes the gravity of what happened to him. “Oh God,” she wheezes, her stomach churning now that she knows what she’s done to him. His resolve falters as he begins to notice the tears, slowly lowering his weapon before holstering it all together. “I believe you.” He states flatly, turning away from her and bringing a hand to his chin. “You were the florist at that little ma and pa corner shop, I remember now.” He contemplates aloud, his bloodshot eyes darting from the floor to the bawling DJ in front of him. “It seems I had severely underestimated him this time.” He coughed, flecks of blood covering his bandaged hand as he continues. “As expected of the star of ‘Horror Happenings: Shrine City.’ “ Holland had been chasing the Weatherman for years. But unlike the weather, the man was unpredictable. “Why are you crying?” He asks. “I’m the one that failed you.” “I’m crying because you’re hurt, idiot,” she hisses through her tears, wiping her face on the sleeve of her button down shirt before she sniffs, trying to get herself under control. “Have you been to the hospital at all? Your bandages are soaked through,” Nori tells him, coming closer so she can better see how badly he’s injured. There are parts of him that aren’t wrapped as well, and the blonde can see the angry blisters peering back at her. “Why aren’t you in the emergency room? What if you had gone into shock?” “I already have.” Oliver retorted, stepping away from her as she approached. “What part of just awoke didn’t you understand? I pass out, and it’s already goddamn New Year’s Eve. I haven’t even celebrated Christmas yet.” He tightened his bandages, a trickle of blood seeping through the cracks and trailing down his forearm. “We both know what would happen if I went outside. I’d be stuck in intensive care for months. I can’t afford that shit, not with my salary.” He sticks a thumb towards his chest. “I can take care of myself.” “Yeah, you’ve told me that before, right before you [i][b]got yourself set on goddamn fire!”[/b][/i] she responds, her eyes zeroed in on the line of blood that has started to run it’s way down his arm. “You’re going to get an infection if you keep wearing the same filthy bandages, you have to change them! Do you even have any food in here? How are you going to feed yourself if you can’t go to the grocery store?” Suddenly, Nori realizes that she’s been yelling at the man who is covered in third degree burn because he tried to help her and she is appalled at herself. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, taking another step closer to him. “I’m just worried about you. Even though you agreed to take this case for me, I’m still partly to blame here. Let me help you, Detective Holland.” The Burned Man stares at her for a good long while, looking at her up and down, searching for any indication of malice or insidiousness. Upon finding nothing but genuine concern, he relents with a sigh. “Fine. Have it your way. But the minute you do your ‘help,’ you are outta here, you got that?” He asks, his lips contorting into a frown as he turns away. “You’re barely clothed, and the AC is on. My room is down the hall to the left, go put something on. If you wanna stay here then by God you are gonna live under my rules. Is that clear, Miss Haywood?” Abruptly turning on his heel, he saunters off to find that spare roll of gauze he put somewhere. The damn kid didn’t know what she was getting herself into. The detective relents and Nori let’s out a sigh, relaxing as some of the tension drains from the situation. “Yes, dad,” she mumbles before she turns and stumbles towards where he indicated his bedroom is. When she gets there the DJ has to paw around in the darkness to find the light switch and when she turns it on the room is flooded with brightness. The bed is in all sorts of disarray and there is blood splattered all over it. [i]’It looks like he slaughtered an animal in here,’[/i] she thinks, wincing at the sheer amount of it. [i]’That must be agony.’[/i] Nori shakes herself to stop that train of thought and starts to dig through his clothes. For the most part everything is way too big, but she does eventually find a faded pair of blue pajama pants. The pale DJ shimmies into them, pulling the drawstring as tight as possible, but they still ride pretty low on her hips. [i]’It’s better than nothing.’[/i] she decides, taking off her plaid shirt and pulling on one of his white undershirts. [i]’It’s frickin’ freezing in here.’[/i] Nori decides to put the flannel back on over this one to better layer up, but forgoes the buttons for now. “Can we turn on the lights in here, Detective Holland?” she calls as she comes back into the main office area. “I won’t be much help with your injuries if I can’t see.” “Turn on the lights?” Holland repeats, glancing upwards and noticing that the lights were, indeed, off. “That explains a lot.” He mutters, walking over to the corner of the room and flipping on the switch. Of course, it felt like someone had shoved two red hot pokers into his eye sockets, but it got brighter. Tears streaming down his face, he dabbed them away with his rolled up sleeves of his shirt, blinking away the pain as his eyes got adjusted. “This place ain’t actually that bad.” He spoke to himself, acknowledging that it was probably because he was unconscious for the better part of a few days. Turning, he noticed that the girl had finally changed, and he couldn’t help but look on approvingly. After all, the heater was broke in his apartment. Pretty damn ironic all things considering. “So, Miss Haywood,” He began, taking a seat at the counter. “You really want to help that much, eh? Admirable I suppose, but you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t utilize you as much as you would like.” He may be burned but by God he was still a fully grown adult man. “Can you cook?” “I can use a cellphone and order take out,” Nori says instead of straight up answering him, but it’s a very obvious, ‘no’. “Huh.” Oliver grunts, crossing his arms. “You’re lucky I can, then. I’m assuming you’re staying over for dinner?” “I’m not planning on leaving until we get you squared away and we figure out what went wrong at the shop,” she starts, her eyebrows knitting together as she studied him in the artificial lights of the apartment. He looked like his bandages were more red than white at this point. “So I guess so.” “Then I hope you like spaghetti and meatballs.” He replied, uncrossing his arms and turning to the stove. “Despite livin’ in this country I ain’t a fan of their foods.” He pointed towards the pantry, “Pick your favorite noodle and grab a jar of sauce. Shit’s real easy to cook if you can take five minutes out of your day.” He paused. “We can talk more of your extended stay over the table, after I change these bandages, of course.” She’d already begun to pull out the thin spaghetti noodles when he said that last bit and she stopped for a second before reaching back into the pantry and retrieving the sauce. “Okay. I’m not trying to coddle you, but you said something about you might have glass in you earlier on the phone. Do you need me to check it out or do you have it handled?” “I won’t expose you to that sort of biological hazard.” He chuckled, lifting up his arms. “But I do suppose that’s why they keep bleeding….mom.” “It’s good to see the fire didn’t affect your humor, smartass,” she answers back, almost arguing with his refusal of her help in checking out his injuries, but thinks better of it. “So….I just boil the water, right? Do I put this in microwave or something?” she asks, shaking the jar of tomato sauce at him. Oliver could only stare at her like she was stupid. Oh wait, that’s because she was. “No, Haywood, no.” He rubs his temples, pointing to the stove. “Get two pots, fill one with water and the other with the sauce. Literally look on the back of the box.” Nori flips the jar around and studies it for a second before moving on to the box of noodles. “Woah. That’s helpful,” Nori hums. Who knew? “I think I can handle it now, detective, go get cleaned up. If you’re not back by the time I finish I’ll come check on you, cool?” Oliver ignores her, too busy ripping a shard of glass from his arm. “You say something?” He says through gritted teeth, reaching for a bottle of rubbing alcohol he got out earlier. “Can you bring that suturing kit over here?” [i]’Oh. Okay, we’re gonna do this right here,’[/i] Nori realizes before nodding and fetching the kit for him. She can see at least three hunks of glass stabbed into the gnarled flesh of his forearm and she winces in sympathy. “How did you get all this glass in you?” The blonde asks, setting the med kit down next to him. “Well, it was your window after all. I didn’t exactly choose the apartment with the windows that break into shards the size of fucking broadswords.” He shot back, popping open the med kit and retrieving a needle. “Makin’ dinner and cleanin’ wounds, the fuckin’ American way.” “Nah, it’s only the American way if you have your gun out too. And a three legged dog,” she replies, trying not to dwell on the fact that he’d had to jump through her window to escape the fire. The vision of him engulfed in flames to the point where the only solution he could see was to jump out of the second story apartment made her stomach twist in guilt. “It’s not sanitary, though, for sure.” “I’d never consider it to be.” Oliver nodded, yanking another shard from his forearm. “Although I will have to admit, I had to make an appointment with the acupuncture person last month anyway. Don’t think I need to see them now.” He glanced up, monitoring her progress on the food. “Oh shit, Nori!” He cried out, “The water is rising, turn it off!” [/hider]