I'll Find You

Chapter 01

Damien Tate is exhausted, both physically and mentally drained. Letting out a deep sigh, he regretfully closes the thick case file in front of him. It's been eight years since she went missing. Eight whole years and Damien has spent every spare ounce of his energy, almost every second of his time, searching for her ever since. Damien rubs a hand over his face as he yawns, expecting the action to somewhat aid in waking him up. It doesn't, but he shouldn't have tried to convince himself otherwise. He's been perpetually tired his entire adult life; it likely won't change anytime soon.

Is he ever going to find her?

Damien stands from his chair, the furniture's legs screeching noisily against the worn wooden floor of his tiny kitchen. He downs the rest of the stale coffee that had gone cold long ago in a single gulp before placing his empty mug in the already overflowing sink. He's grateful for the large assortment of coffee cups his coworkers gift him every holiday season; having so many means that he wastes less time washing dishes. Not really, but at least he doesn't have to do it as frequently.

Taking off his sweat-dampened and likely smelly shirt as he heads toward his bathroom, Damien tosses the dirty article of clothing onto the floor, uncaring where it lands. He grabs the first one he sees from the top of the stuffed laundry hamper, not bothering to check its level of cleanliness before pulling it over his head; he can't really remember whether or not he washed those clothes. The wrinkles in the garment don't deter him, either. Well, he's dressed, he supposes. That's all that really matters. After washing his face and rinsing his mouth clean, Damien deems himself as ready as he'll ever be to head to work.

As a detective, it's Damien's job to solve mysteries. His record is nearly perfect; all of his cases have been solved expertly in no time at all. All cases, that is, except hers. This case has him wholly stumped, which frustrates him to no end. But that frustration also stems from a deeper connection on a thoroughly personal level. Although he has never actually been assigned to this particular case, it fervently haunts him. It torments him every second of every day, awake or sleeping. He can't escape it. When he's not working on his assigned cases, Damien is searching for her, forgoing sleep, giving up his personal life, and neglecting both his physical and mental health. And he does it all for her without a bit of hesitation or regret.

Damien was eighteen when his younger sister was abducted from their local park, just a mile or two down the road from their childhood home. Tally was just fifteen at the time. It was a warm day in May of Damien's senior year of high school when it happened, a day that Damien could never forget. He had been at the rehearsal for his high school graduation ceremony when he received a text from Tally saying she was walking home. At the time, he didn't think anything of it; he had no reason to. In their small town, walking home was a common occurrence for many teenagers, and Tally was no exception. Hours later, when Damien returned to their house, Tally was nowhere to be found.

It's a light load at work today, mostly paperwork, which Damien struggles to keep his eyes open through. It will definitely take several more cups of strongly brewed and highly caffeinated coffee to survive the entirety of this day. He probably should have slept for more than two hours last night, but sleep constantly evades him. It's not important, anyway, when his little sister's life is on the line. He had been far too busy going over the details of Tally's case for the hundredth time to care about sleep last night in a similar fashion to most nights. Maybe even two-hundredth, possibly three, who knows? Damien lost count of how many times he read that file years ago; he could probably recite the details by memory by now.

Vigorously shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Damien tries to focus on the seemingly endless stack of papers on the desk in front of him. His vision is a bit hazy due to his tiredness, but he'll just have to make it work for him; he can't slack off on the job simply because he chose to read over his sister's file once more. If that were the case, he'd never get any work done.

Damien works straight through his lunch break with squinted eyes and an aching head. While prioritizing his cases over himself, he forgets once again to make the time to eat something for lunch. That happens quite often for him; sometimes, he even goes days without eating. Showering, too. And laundry--he regularly forgets to wash his clothes, hence his unsureness about the state of his t-shirt this morning. He is unsure if it's because there are not enough hours in the day or if he is simply too engrossed in his search to care about such mundane tasks. Possibly both. Finding Tally has always taken priority for him, even over his own well-being. And that likely won't change until he finds her. Even then, his own needs will probably take a backseat to her; they'll have eight years to make up for, after all.

The day drags on at the office; the hands on the clock seem to hardly move at all. With his workload finally completed, Damien heads to the evidence room to recheck the contents of the box labeled with Tally's name. There must be something he's missed all the times he's gone over these items, some single, even seemingly insignificant clue that has escaped him. Although he could swear that he's thoroughly combed over even the most minor details, he maintains a sliver of hope that something new will someday present itself. Damien vows to himself and to his sister that he will figure it out. He will find her. No matter the personal cost.

"Tate?" a deep voice asks, immediately drawing his attention from the dusty cardboard box in his shaking hands. "Going through Tally's case once more?" Too tired and preoccupied to make conversation, Damien nods in confirmation instead; he knows that a verbal response likely isn't necessary in this particular situation, anyway. "Alright," the chief responds neutrally. He lets out a quiet sigh before adding, "Just make sure to get some rest tonight. You look like hell."

"Yes, Chief," Damien replies automatically, although he knows it's not likely that he'll get much sleep tonight. Or any time soon, for that matter. He hasn't slept well in the last eight years; it's undoubtedly not going to magically happen now. Chief Davis gives him a short nod, then exits the room, leaving Damien to himself with the evidence box once again.