The Murder Of 1998

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Ricky rolled out of bed and shielded his eyes from the bit of sunlight that was coming through the windows. The only reason why he even got out of bed was because someone was knocking on his apartment door for so long that he couldn't ignore it anymore. He grabbed his sweats from the floor and pulled them up his legs, walking to his door and opening it.

Ray stood in front of Ricky with a little smile on his lips.

"Mind if I come in?"

Ricky shrugged and walked away to his dining table. He grabbed a glass and the half empty bottle of alcohol, pouring himself a drink as he sat down. "Want some?" He mumbled. As tempting as it was, Ray refused it and Ricky just looked out the window.

"I'm... so sorry for what happened," Ray said quietly. Ricky wiped his eyes as he didn't want Ray seeing him cry.

"I want to be alone."

Ray placed his hand on his brothers shoulder who touched his hand and felt the emotiones getting too much to bare. He covered his mouth as he wept.

"Remember, I'm just a phone call away," Ray reminded him as he walked back to the door, closing it behind him. He took in a deep sigh and looked down the hall behind him. There was no one around.

No, it's not him.

-x-

Brandon finished washing his hands after finishing with Penelope Worth's autopsy who was found earlier this morning.

Jonathan came walking in with his hand in his pocket as the other was holding his flip phone. He seemed a bit upset about something, and Brandon could easily tell.

"You look very unhappy," Brandon said in a very monotone voice. Jonathan scoffed and threw his phone onto the counter.

"It's that noticeable?"

"By the way you just threw your phone, I would say yes, it is very noticeable," Brandon replied. Jonathan leaned against the wall and noticed how Brandon stared at him like he had no emotions. "I would very much appreciate it if you could explain what it is that troubles you."

Jonathan could tell that besides his monotone voice and his expressionless face, Brandon was very concerned. There wasn't anyone else in the room, so he thought he might as well.

"Its my dad. He says he found a guy I might be interested in."

Brandon lifted an eyebrow. "Oh."

"But, I don't want him. He's not my type," Jonathan said. Brandon didn't seem so convinced by it. He turned around and picked up the clipboard of Penelope's autopsy, filling in a few things. "I like other people." Jonathan stood behind Brandon, his hands moving onto his ass then waist. Brandon gasp and quickly spun around. He turned red like a tomato.

"A-agent Wallace! This is high inappropriate. T-this is just flat out sexual harassment!"

Jonathan laughed, clutching onto his stomach. "You're so cute when you fluster like that." He composed himself and looked around. "It's ok, no one's around anyways."

Brandon felt his hands shaking, nearly dropping the clipboard. He fixed his glasses and looked down at the floor. "I thought that we would keep our sexual relationship OUT of the work place." Brandon frowned. "I would rather keep it like that... please."

Jonathan sighed and nodded. "Right. You're not out yet."

"It's not my fault that my father said he would literally murder me if I was gay," Brandon said. "And I don't doubt that he would. After he caught me giving a kiss to a boy, he beat me till I was bleeding and had a concussion, then he threw me onto the street where a car was coming."