Chapter Text
Things took a turn, which is something that became predictable for Fusco, especially when he inevitably became wrapped up in some blatant conspiracy with Thing One and Thing Two, now here he is with a blotched nose that was taken care of by the people working in the hospital after things got ahead of him.
They found Bill, tried to be cordial, Bill grew offended, took the potshot against Fusco, devolved from there, now he’s handcuffed and forcibly sedated by the hospital as he made attempts trying to escape from his confines.
Predictably, Heather showed up to raise hell about everything, well, Edwin had enough strength to try and keep things cordial, but Fusco already had grounds to file charges against Bill for assaulting him and Edwin.
If not for the Geek, he would have cuffed both Heather and her husband.
Amid this period, Fusco noticed the absence of the daughter that as he breathed through his mouth while his nose remained numb due to the anesthesia given to him, Heather wouldn’t tell him.
Edwin stepped in and tried getting Heather to tell him, but once more, she refused to tell them, and her husband wasn’t much help.
Out of earshot, Fusco relayed this to the Geek, and he surveyed where Heather’s phone pinged during the trip to the hospital to visit Bill, he noticed there was a ten-minute stopover.
Checking the address, it’d seem that Heather dropped her daughter off at a friend’s, which would be peculiar in a situation such as this, and what the Machine calculated.
Quickly, the Machine pinpointed the location as one of Cathy’s friends.
Probably a good thing, too, considering the hell that happened.
She been a piece of work since she got here, blaming him and Edwin for her husband, both men incapable of using their usual tactics considering the situation, having to modify them to keep her from going for their throats or being unreasonable.
While Fusco wished he could say that there was a happy ending with cases like these, the grim reality was simply impossible for him to even attempt guaranteeing that something would go right was impossible.
Everything can change on a whim with cases like these and often not they’re not great, the only thing Fusco can do was hope for the best outcome, even if it isn’t what he wanted.
Believe Fusco, if he could, he absolutely would make sure everyone in these cases gets a happy ending, but that’s not realistic in a world like this, didn’t have much of a choice.
However, with the Geek and Mr. FBI cropping up every now again to force him into whatever they’re working on for the day, maybe there’s a chance that while he can’t change everything, what he could change is the most impactful.
Maybe the nurse gave him too much of the good stuff, as he tenderly touched his swollen nose as the pain was dulled by the drugs.
Doctors say it wasn’t broken, but he’ll be hearing Rudolf jokes for a while until the bruising on his nose subsides.
Already Edwin had his fun coming up with jokes at Fusco’s expenses, it was a miracle he finally stopped to get some coffee, but he finally stopped all-together, stating that while it was fun, all good things come to an end.
“I’m sure your date feels differently,” Fusco snarks much to Edwin’s amusement as the men were forced to watch Heather and her husband until further notice.
Edwin mentioned them starting their reports now, so when they finally head back to the precinct it’s easier for them to finish, get home quicker, too.
“I gotta pick my prescription up,” Fusco sighed as he reminded Edwin that per the doctor’s orders, he’s on a mix of painkillers and something for the inflammation for the next few weeks until the swelling and bruising goes down.
Offering him a friendly smile, Edwin comforted Fusco, saying that it could’ve been worse.
“What, getting stuck in the tanning booth?” Fusco snarks.
Proceeding to tell him a story about one of his cases before he transferred to New York City, Edwin regaled how he and his partner at the time were stopped by a concerned citizen who flagged them in an affluent area.
She claimed hearing moaning coming from one of the houses and didn’t know what to do, well, luck would have it she flagged Edwin and Gabriel down.
Led to the house, sure enough, Edwin and Gabriel heard moaning coming from it.
Mule kicked the back door open and the men entered a house bigger than the lobby they’re in.
They’re following the moaning and finally they found the owner face down on a round patio table.
Thinking he had a heart attack, well, Edwin and Gabriel went to help the man, thinking he collapsed on top of the table, well upon reaching him, they were greatly mistaken.
The homeowner was… Edwin colorfully stated in his birthday suit… and not just in his birthday suit.
“Hadn’t we found him when we did, they woulda amputated it. People, man, why they gotta do this stuff to themselves?” Edwin exhaled as he reminiscent about having to rescue a man from his own indulgence.
They played up a story for the concerned neighbor when the ambulance came, that the neighbor fell, given his age, well, the neighbor bought the cover, and the grateful homeowner thanked the detectives from the bottom of his heart for preserving his reputation.
“Oh god, tell me he wasn’t married!” Fusco flinched as he hoped the homeowner didn’t have a significant other to explain his predicament and Edwin denied that he was married, just curious, so the homeowner claimed.
Though, now that Edwin thought about, maybe it would have been better had the homeowner been married, at least someone to talk sense into a man deflowering the poor patio table.
Shaking his head disapprovingly, Fusco expressed concerns that it wasn’t the first time the homeowner had been, shall he dare say, exploring.
“I try not to think too hard, man. People. The internet so vast and knowledgeable, right there, least you can do is Google if it’s a good idea!” Edwin heavily sighs as he rubbed his tired eyes.
Hearing this story, Fusco nods in approval, that there were worse things to happen.
If he was forced to choose between a punched nose or his private life exposed to unwitting detectives, Fusco knew what he was choosing.
“Aw, don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Edwin encouraged Fusco to look on the bright side.
Eying him, Fusco questioned him with, “How are you so damn optimistic?”
Someone who went through the effort of becoming a detective, Edwin should have chips in his shoulder deeper than Death Valley being exposed to the human condition, but here he was, sunny.
Damn Jerseyans.
“Aw come on, Lee, can’t be a pessimist all the time,” Edwin lightly teases Fusco as he rolls his eyes at his partner as he muttered under his breath.
It was his call, he convinced the Geek to abandon the plan to send Edwin away, only because he didn’t want to do the paperwork by himself, and here he was regretting it.
“Excuse me, sir, do you know where I may be able to find a Bill Middleton?” Fusco stirs from his thought when he glimpsed a man, maybe his sixties, can’t tell with that thick beard of his, and seeing him closely, Fusco winces when he recognizes the earmarks of a lawyer.
Gritting his teeth, Fusco asks, “She call you to file charges against me?”
Even if the cameras show her becoming belligerent with him and witnesses can testify that he never laid a finger on her, she’s barking up the wrong tree.
Shaking his head as he pushed up his glasses, the man explained he was called to speak with Bill.
“Called you… why?” Fusco questioned why social services sent for the man and he responded that it’s between him and Heather, can’t say anything else except that.
Stiffly moving his head, Fusco grunts as he points with his head the man in the direction where Bill’s room was, before warning the man about Heather’s attitude.
“It’s not my first time, detective,” the man smiled as he pushed up his large round glasses before moving away from Fusco to visit Bill.
Rubbing his eyes in frustration, Fusco exhaled sharply before hearing Edwin beside him, informing him that they needed to return to the precinct, their duties were done, and their lou wants a word with them.
“Fuck it, let’s go,” Fusco didn’t have it in him to do anything else, the last thing he wanted was another incident to write about it, so off he and Edwin went.
Grabbed his prescription along the way, took them while he and Edwin finished their reports that were started at the hospital.
Lou wasn’t happy with what transpired, but Fusco fought for his innocence while Edwin backed him up in his claims, warned him to be careful, and that was the end of it.
“If he wasn’t there to smoke you, then why was he there?” Edwin pondered about their mysterious lawyer.
Shrugging, Fusco answers with a gruff, “Fuck if I know, come on, I gotta get something in my stomach.”
Taking medicine on an empty stomach isn’t a good idea, even if Fusco drank coffee.
“Fine. Since you took the hit, I’ll treat you, okay?” Edwin smiles and Fusco eyes him with suspicion.
TO BE CONTINUED… Reese and Mr. Hartford