I used to like lazy days. Spending a whole day lounging with my boyfriend or my best friend, watching movies, maybe a little studio time. I could paint with Henry or watch Ella create a song. We would laugh or sit quietly. It was the ideal way to spend my day. But now, I’m by myself in this big apartment with no one to talk to and nothing to do.

From the moment I woke up an hour ago to now, I’ve been lying in bed. It’s hard to be productive when you don’t want to move. It’s even harder when the act of thinking takes up all your energy. It should be easier to get over a fake breakup. I just feel so terrible.

I still haven’t gotten to explain anything. I know my dad spent the day with him, but what if that wasn’t enough? What if he hates me? He probably thinks I’m a coward for taking the easy way out. I wouldn’t blame him for not wanting to come back.

My first act of the day is to get in the shower that’s too hot and eventually turns achingly cold from letting the water run too long. How did life get this tedious? I can’t even be bothered to warm up food. Instead, I order pizza up to the studio and meander my way up there to see if maybe I can convince myself to be any sort of creative.

Lollygagging is what I would say happens. I spend too much time looking around in El’s studio before even attempting to open the door to mine. I’m not sure if I want to go into the room that I only ever allowed my better half to follow me into.

I hate to admit when one of my fathers are right. But when Dad was impressed that I let Henry in my studio, he wasn’t wrong. Since the day it was complete, it’s only ever been me that I’ve allowed to use the room. I’m still not sure why I showed him around it the first day. I even let him touch my paintings.

I am a coward for taking the easy way out.

And then, I go in and take a deep breath as I look around. It takes me a second before my heart hurts again. Or hurts more, I haven’t decided.

Right there, plain as day and life-size, is a purple and teal stamp of the man I’m so fond of. I can picture his face half-colored and fully-confused. His glasses thrown to the floor as his clothes are ruined. My realization of the now intimately familiar face as he’s securely pressed into the paint-slathered wall. The reminder makes me smile for a second. It’s like I’m watching it as an outside in my own mind. Mna, I miss him.

I meant to take it down a while ago, but I just never got around to it. Ever since I threw my guy up against this wall, we’ve used easels to paint on canvases so I haven’t had to move it. It occupies the space behind the step up we’ve made to accommodate our creative sessions. It’s the multicolored backdrop that we would laugh at from time to time.

I should probably leave it. It’s not hurting anything.

As I’m contemplating, my phone starts to ring. I shouldn’t be surprised by the name on the screen, but at the moment it’s a welcome relief. I need the distraction.

“Hello,” I answer with the first resemblance of a smile all day.

“Okay,” my middle sister starts off, “I know that you want to tell me, so I’m not going to push it. But, it’s hard to just ignore.”

A real smile graces my lips, “Dad called you.” It’s definitely not a question.

“We’re all worried about you,” Brie reasons.

“I’m fine, Bee. It’s a complicated story.”

She sighs, “I know there’s something holding you back and I don’t know what it is. You can always talk to me. I was really surprised when it was Dad that told me that you and Henry broke up. It’s usually me telling Dad things. I always know first and that bothers me.”

She’s right, of course. Had it just been me breaking up with Henry, I probably would have called her and told her. Or at least mentioned it when we were on the phone. Noting’s that simple anymore.

Moving away from the painting, I grab the chair next to the supply desk and sit down, facing away from the colorful mural. Using one hand to hold the phone, I use the other to rest my forehead on with my elbow on the flat surface in front of me, “You know that I would rather call you. This time you have to trust me. The only reason I didn’t call you first was because I needed them for something.”

“And you can’t tell me what,” she confirms.

“True.”

“Alright,” she seems to be contemplating something for a few seconds before she starts again. “Can you at least tell me you’re okay? Like, so I don’t have to come running. Ella and Maya are taking good care of you while you’re sad? You’re not blowing everyone off while you wallow, are you? That’s really unhealthy, bro.”

“No,” I say a little uneasily.

“Samuel Blain, you better say something before I ditch my ridiculously expensive classes to come kick your ass.”

I think about it for a few seconds and sit back in my chair, “Ella and Maya went to Canada with Toby for part of his tour. They’ll bet back in a couple weeks.” As she goes to interrupt, I cut her off, “But don’t worry about me. I’ll be busy with work and Sanders. Everything will be fine and you need to continue with your school stuff. I don’t want you to kill people because you’re only a half-ass doctor.”

Her sigh is long and drawn out, “Blain, I’m worrying.”

“I know,” I nod at no one.

“You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?”

“Nope.”

“If you need anything-”

I interrupt her again, “I won’t. I’ll be fine. I have lots to do around here.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” I tell her as I hear a knock coming from Ella’s side. “But, I have to go. My pizza just got here. I’ll give you a call later.”

As I get up she concedes, “Okay, but anything at all.”

“I know, Bee. I love you.”

“I love you too, big brother,” she still sounds a little upset.

“Bye, Brianna.”

“Bye, Blain.”

As I open the door, my phone gets slid into my pocket. The entire pizza transaction takes only a minute and then I set it on one of El’s little tables. I sit down on her couch on the other side of the room, suddenly not hungry. I’m glad my parents didn’t tell my sister what’s going on, but I sort of wish they wouldn’t have said anything at all.

What good can come from her knowing that I’m sad and alone?

After a few more minutes, I pick up the box and head back downstairs. There’s nothing that I can accomplish up here. I’m not in the mood to paint. I don’t want to see the print of Henry on my wall. I can’t use Ella’s equipment, even if I did know how. It’s just better for me not to be in this environment.

Instead, I pull out my classic bad day tool.

After everything is set up and I’m cozy, I push play on “Save the Day” and relax into the pull out couch alone with my pizza.

-----

Monday comes around very slowly. It doesn’t help that I don’t do much.

Ella calls at one point and I tell her that everything is fine. I can tell she’s having a good time and I don’t want to ruin her little vacation. And maybe I accidently leave out the fact that I broke up with Henry. But I’m sure my sister will tell her soon. It’ll be worth getting cussed out if she gets a few good days out of it.

Henry doesn’t try to get a hold of me. Even though that was the plan, it doesn’t suck any less. I want to talk to him, but it’s better that he’s listening. I hope it’s not because he doesn’t want to talk to me.

Monday arrives along with work. When I get to the station, Sanders is already there sitting at our desks. He looks as tired as I feel. But maybe at this point, we’ll be able to work together again. I won’t have to sit at my desk all day and look busy.

“You didn’t answer my calls,” my partner accuses as I sit down.

He’s not wrong.

Shrugging, I fiddle with the things on my desk instead of looking at him directly, “I was busy.”

“I almost came over to make sure you weren’t dead,” his voice take on a hint of sadness that makes me look up.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I didn’t really think about it.”

He straightens his back and leans forward, an angry whisper at his lips, “You should think about that. You’re life and your friends and family are in danger. You need to think about everything. Answer all the calls that come your way. Make sure the people you love are safe. Don’t hide away and feel sorry for yourself. Do something, Blain.”

Moving toward him, I match his aggression, “And what can I do about it right now? I can’t work the case. I can’t talk to the one person I want to make sure is okay. I can’t talk to anybody about the situation.”

“If you were anymore wrong,” his eyebrow quirks, “you’d be a vegetarian bull shark.”

“What?” He’s lost me.

Sanders shakes his head, “Listen, You can’t work the case, but you can ask the detective that are if you can give any other information. You know any little bit can help. You can’t talk to Henry, but I sure as hell can. And I’m telling you now, he’s just fine and sounds about as happy as you look. And now that I’m kicked off the case too, you can talk to me about it.” As I start to open my mouth he holds up a hand, “But my suggestion would be to buck up and stop being so sad. We have to get back to work now that they have two teams pulled off for your case. That’s two less teams to solve the homicides of New York City. We have some catching up to do.”

Sitting back in my chair, I contemplate the words he’s said to me. After a minute or so, I look up and nod, “You’re right.” As I’m about to stand, I look into his eyes, “Thank you. You know, for-”

He shakes his head again as he interrupts, “I know what for. Let’s not broadcast.” He lifts an eyebrow to give me a pointed look. One that I take as a ‘keep it need-to-know’, before he gets up and pulls on his jacket. “Let’s get out of here.”

And then we’re off. The first two stops are scenes that need to be ruled accidental before the coroner can take the body. All unexpected deaths come through the homicide unit and from there we have to decide if they are homicide, suicide, or accidental. The only ones we investigate further are the homicides.

The third scene we arrive at is an actual case. It takes most of the day to talk to the witnesses (the maid team that found the body as they were coming in to clean and the people in the surrounding rooms that heard a scuffle) and look around the hotel room itself. The victim seemed to give a good fight because the place is a disaster. There is stuff thrown everywhere. A shattered lamp sits next to a pillow that’s seen better day. The comforter is thrown over the large television that’s fallen over to lean against the wall behind it. The shower curtain is half pulled down and somehow there’s a shoe in the toilet. And not one that belongs to the victim.

It’s easy to get wrapped up in the case. My job takes a lot of brain power. It’s a big reason why I love it so much. It’s never the same and neither is the problem solving. There’s always a new set of rules. There’s always something else to look at. There’s always something that gets overlooked.

When Henry was around, I complained because my job was time consuming. But then again, I guess that’s what happens when you find something different that you would rather spend your time on. Now, I’m just glad for the distraction. I’d do just about anything to keep from worrying about him.

“We have to start training someone tomorrow,” Sanders mentions as we get into his car after leaving the scene. “They’re going to be taking over my potion when I’m out for the week or so once the baby’s born since we have so many of our guys tied up right now.”

“You’re coming back though, right?” I have to make sure.

I know he’s supposed to be only taking some vacation days, but I can’t really imagine losing anyone else in my life. It feels like everyone is “temporarily” gone.

He smiles, “I’ll be back. You can’t keep me away for too long.”

Nodding, I start looking through the paperwork I’m holding on my lap, “Do you know who we’re training? Like, did they give you a name?”

He shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road as we start to merge into traffic, “Nope, just said that it would all start tomorrow morning.” Before I can say anything else, he adds, “They also reminded me that your situation is a need-to-know type thing. Sharing with anyone that’s not involved in the actual work is not only prohibited blah blah blah.” He looks over at me briefly and smiles, “Not that I have to tell you that.”

“I’d rather not tell anyone and find the son of a bitch myself,” I tell him honesty.

He chuckles, “We’ll keep that to ourselves.”

Laughing with him feels good. It makes my chest less tight than it’s been for the last few days.

After a minute, I ask, “Where are you going to be having the baby if all this stuff isn’t taken care of? Only about a month until Maria’s due, right?”

He nods, “Yep, but she’ll just have to come back. Our doctor and birth plan are all here. She’ll probably leave the two younger boys up at her sister’s, but she bring the oldest back to help her with the baby once I come back to work.”

“Well,” I decide with a deep breath, “we better see to it that Dean and the other guys have the asshat caught by then. I’m not too big on the idea of putting a baby in danger.”

We stop at a stop light a few seconds later and he looks me in the eye, “We’ll get him.”

I don’t agree with him, but I don’t disagree either. Instead, I move my attention back to the paperwork in my lap and use my brain power for good.

~A/N~

Oh my gosh, I can't believe it either! I missed you guys! I'm in uni now (I know I'm an adult already, but I'm going BACK to school) and I seem to have even less time than when I worked a fulltime job. So I'm to try and be on my Sunday rotation again. I hope you guys aren't too mad!!