Legacy

Part 2

Mason sat at his computer, his fingers resting on the handle of a half empty, but long cold mug of coffee. The keys on the keyboard pressed into his sleeping face, sure to leave an imprint across his cheek and chin.

The document on the screen was just a jumble of nonstop gibberish, but if one were to scroll up all the way to the top, the title of his paper would read "September's Not Over Yet!"

The first twenty pages were a detailed analysis of the Walker house.

How a lot of Septembers things were gone, but her patched up duffel bag was still in her closet. How her dad disappeared, but all of his things were still in the house. There was even a wad of cash that was stuffed in the man's sock drawer. If he really left, why wouldn't he take the money with him?

The next twelve pages were a bunch of theories. Most of which came to a dead end. But there was still one towards the bottom... that was typed up before Mason plopped his head down in exhaustion.

The theory was mostly comprised of clipped newspaper articles. All missing persons. All after September Walker and her father disappeared five years ago.

A sudden knocking sound sent Mason bolting back into consciousness, spilling cold coffee all over his black pants and sending the mug crashing to the floor to split into three large pieces.

But none of that bothered the young man as he frantically snatched up his phone and flipped it open. "Hello! Who's this?" he got out before realizing that his phone was not the thing that needed answering.

Quick as a rabbit, Mason was at his office door. "Oh! Detective Shaw! Sir!" Mason's free hand immediately combed through his hair as he jumped out of the man's way.

The head detective stepped into the closet sized office and shut the door behind him. "Lee," he grumbled, shaking his head and loosening his paisley tie, "The Captain wanted me to check in with you. He thinks you're working yourself sick with all these theories."

Now Mason was wide awake. "I'll stop with my theories when my friend is found," he said firmly. "Show me a goddamn body, and I'll drop it and go back to college." He reached out straighten the man's paisley tie. "Hell, I'll even buy you a box of doughnuts."

The Detective just shook his head and sighed in defeat. "If she's alive out there... and we find her, I'll be the one who gets you a box of doughnuts." Then he added under his breath, "Good lord knows you could use the meat on your bones."

Mason raked his fingers through his hair. "People go missing all the time. There are families who might never see their daughters, sisters... babies ever again. September has nobody. If I'm not looking for her, who the fuck is? I told her I'd be there for her..." His eyes began to fill with tears and he wiped them away before the Detective could see. "When she's found..."

When. Not if.

"When she's found, I won't leave her side until she screams at me to give her space."

The Detective just shook his head and wrapped his arms around Mason in a soft embrace. "When you find her, she can stay with us," he whispered. "You're right. The only one who's still looking is you. And damn... that girl's lucky."

It was at that moment that Mason noticed his computer screen.

"Shit," he muttered, bolting over to his chair, the wheels making him roll a couple feet too far before he slammed a finger on the delete button.

"Mason..." Shaw Almost never used his first name, so Mason had to turn back to face the Detective. "You need to go home. Get some sleep. I'll look over your work and see what I can do."

Mason opened his mouth to object, but Shaw put up a hand.

"A good night's sleep is the best thing you can do for September at this point. If you stay up too long your mind will overheat. Then where will we be?"

There was a long silence before Mason sighed and reached up to rub his face, finally feeling the indents left in his face by the computer keys.

"Fine..." Mason muttered, rubbing his eyes. "But that goes for you too. I hate waking up with your side of the bed untouched."

Shaw chuckled and kissed Mason's forehead. "Alright. I promise. I'll join you in a couple hours," he said, checking his watch as he hauled Mason out of his chair.

And with that, Mason Lee left his tiny office.

Thank god the precinct was usually quiet around this time. Shaw and Lee had to keep things looking professional during work hours, especially considering that most of the cops there were less than supportive of gay relationships.

Hell, a good number of them witnessed the AIDS crisis first hand, and still hadn't gotten past the ugly stereotype.

Mason made his way to the restroom and wet a towel to make sure the coffee stain on his pants wouldn't set. After a minute of that (and getting absolutely nowhere), he splashed his face with cold water so he would be wide awake for the drive back home.

As Mason stepped out into the crisp autumn night, he adjusted his jacket.

It would be September tomorrow. That month always made him feel on edge. It would be another birthday she would have without him. Another birthday wherever she was.

Would she even be celebrating? Would she even know what day it was? How old she was?

How long Mason had been searching for her?

It broke Masons heart how much she missed. Graduation. The time he broke his arm. Meeting Detective Richard Shaw and Mason falling for him. Hard. For all Mason knew, she missed turning twenty-one.

Maybe in a couple years he would just give up. The trail was five years cold, anyway. For all he knew, she was dead.

When Mason finally reached the small house, he did exactly what he promised he would do. He went to bed. But not before getting himself a glass of wine and pouring a sip into the sink for his friend.

"Happy birthday," he whispered before gulping down his drink and refilling the glass.

The bottle was empty the next morning.