A/N: Vote & Comment if you like ❤️
So I searched through the depths of Wattpad again. So far only A_Muse's Brand of Bodhi is somewhere close to what I look for.
......[(( _ _ ))..zzzZZ(( _ _ ))..zzzZZ]......

POV RILEY:

"Jesus fucking Christ, Swanson! What in god's name are you sleeping here for?"

Eyes shot open, I jolt awake at the booming voice. Chief Dean. The woman's voice is a megaphone itself. No wonder she never uses the microphone when addressing the press.

She stares me down with her hands placed on her hips. It's that look that every mother has when she's scowling her child. Chief Dean is like a second mother to me since I first joined the force. She's just less insane than my biological one. The urge to run away grows while she marches closer to the table. From the looks of it, the chief just arrived. Her coat is draped over one arm and her hand back is tucked under an armpit.

I rub my stiff back while making sure I turn my gaze elsewhere. "You get anything from your late-night scribbling?" the chief asks. I hesitantly glance over to her, relieved that she's observing the boards, not me. I get out of my seat to stand next to her. My joints crack as I stretch; sleeping in a chair is not a comfortable idea. I respond, scanning my work as well, "I think I'm getting somewhere. I need Jenkins to look in some names though..."

Chief Dean nods with the grin on her face becoming tight. She says calmly, "So... I'm joyed to see you getting some progress in the investigation. You know who also made progress? Your partner. In healing. Who's asking why you aren't there while he's battered up because of what I heard you did." That's what I feared she would mention. Yesterday's events drop heavy into my gut, weighing it down like a ton of bricks. Guilt stacked upon guilt as I remember the scene vividly.

I lean on the edge of the table. I was about to rub my hands over my face but I see leftover blood -his blood- dried on my palms and between my fingers. I bite my lower lip, suppressing a choked sob. Again. It's all my fault. I hate messing up- and I hate it when it's something I can't take back. I understand our line of work is dangerous but when it's clearly your fault, it doesn't leave your mind- specially when it's an accident you can avoid.

Two hands are placed over my shoulders. "Riley, look at me, hun." I do as she says. I know she's trying to comfort me. I remember having the same tone and treatment when I first shot a man. I returned to the station, trembling like crazy. Chief Dean got me on my feet again.

The chief continues, "I am happy that you are unharmed. It's unfortunate that Hal ended up in the hospital. Don't let this incident make you freeze up. Let this be a lesson learnt to stick with your partner even when you both don't agree on the same thing. There is a reason why I assigned you one. I need my men, not only working, but looking out for each other." I nod slightly, not breaking from her gaze to show I understand.

She pays me once and pulls me into a short hug before letting go. "You understand I want you to go visit Hal at the hospital, right?" she asks. I don't want to face my partner now. Even though she assured me that Hal's not angry, I still don't want to see him. But because she's asking for a now-answer, I give her a nod before she starts heading to her office. "Also Swanson, you should go home and change. I'll give you three hours to comeback and not look like roadkill." My jaw drops at the insensitive comparison. Chief Dean tosses something to me which I catch in surprise. My keys. Hal must have given it to her while she visited. I got it back but... how am I supposed to drive when my car is parked in the other part of the city?

As if on cue, the ping from the elevators reveal a groggy-faced George. He drags his feet across the tiled flooring, then gives me the evil eye. He sighs, "Your cars in the parking lot... damnit man you owe me." I, sadly, know what he means. If he had to get my car, he had to encounter Mabel and Mabel knows that he's crushing hard on her sister, Lucia, like a damn school boy. Even when she's not pestering about your love life, Mabel can be mentally exhausting if you had a long day.

"Thanks..."

"I expect you to see Hal, Riley. The poor guy under pain killers kept asking if you were fine. I wanted to drag your sorry ass because I know you. You run with your tail between your legs when you feel at fault," George scowls as he throws his coat inside his own office. He makes his way towards the table. "You're lucky the guy's built like a truck-" The mention of truck reminds me of Mabel's neon green one and we both shiver. He shakes his head, "Scratch that. I mean a train."

George then observes the name-covered whiteboards in awe. I pat his shoulder, "I'll visit Hal later. I'm heading out." No, I'm not visiting my partner any time soon. I briskly walk to leave the floor and I hear George calling out from the back, "Hey! Hey! I know you when you lie through you teeth! You better visit him or I'll drag you myself, you-" The elevator doors cut off his shouting.

I was thankful that I got my car back. It saves time from encountering with Mabel again. Luckily she didn't push me that hard yesterday, most likely because I looked like "roadkill" according to the chief. 

I reach my apartment under an hour. First thing I do is head to the bathroom. Jesus Christ, she wasn't kidding on how terrible I looked. There are very noticeable bags under my eyes. My hair is standing up all over. My button-up have tiny blood stains mostly around the cuffs and lower portion of the shirt. Turns out I did get hurt yesterday but these scrapes are nothing compared to Hal's condition.

I clean myself up quickly, being gentle to the open skin. While I redress, I pick up my smartphone. Feeling the guilt rise up, I send the picture I took of the whiteboards to Hal. After we introduced ourselves on day one, we already got each other's contacts stored so messaging. Sending a text message should be fine- talking face to face, on the hand, is a definite no for me right now. Though, he should know what I believe I found.

Not expecting a reply, I was about to put it away until the phone vibrates and the screen glows. My heart races; he couldn't have responded that fast... but there it is- his contact showing a new text.

I'm bored. Come here.

I rolled my eyes; of course that's what he says when I send crucial work. I can't hear the tone behind the message, worried that he's passive-aggressively venting his irritation through text. I agree that I should ignore it. I do have only an hour left before Chief Dean kicks my ass.

The phone vibrates again.

The cute nurses won't let me smoke. I'm dying from boredom. George left me with an almost-dead phone. I can only use one hand to text.

Great to hear he's doing fine. George wasn't joking about the ginger being built like a truc- train. I still don't respond as I make my way out of my home to the car. I turn my phone off, not wanting to receive anymore messages from a drug-induced Hal. He needs to rest if he wishes to leave the hospital- well, if he's not too banged up which I doubt.

I hit the fast forward button when my Pink Floyd album decides to play Wish You Were Here, ironically. The thing with classic rock is they hit me with lyrics I can understand. I sometimes wish most of modern music was like this but I guess that's too high of a bar. Hal would probably be shocked that I like some Beyoncé songs even though I messed with him in our previous car ride.

I turn my phone back on when I reach the station. The fresh clothes I'm wearing doesn't stick to my side like my attire from last night. I adjust the tie around my collar while feeling my phone vibrate from the messages I ignored. I succumb to wanting to read them.

I'm not mad at you.

Bzzz

I want to talk to you.

Bzzz

Don't ignore your injured partner you heartless man D; I'm probably going to die and you won't even care.

Bzzz

No seriously. I want to speak with you. It is about the case. Also bring something entertaining with you. I got to have something other than Spanish soap operas. The last nurse left the damn remote on the other side of the room. I'll fracture more of my bones if you don't come soon.

"Such a drama queen," I mutter out loud. Though, I had to give it to him; my partner knows how to break the ice. Those silly text messages dissipated most of the anxiety I had from just remembering about the accident. I shake my head as I make my way through the first floor of the building. I sigh, giving into Hal's persistence. I text back that I'll be there tonight. An immediate response returns. I roll my eyes at the lone heart emoji as his response.

Shoving my phone into my brown coat, I walk out of the elevator feeling a lot better than I had when I woke up. I cross my arms at the cleaned up whiteboards. I feared they would get erased so I'm glad I took a picture of them earlier. The stack of documents I left also disappeared. I wonder if George and Jenkins had to clean up after me.

"Swanson, come here," calls Chief Dean who peeks out of her office. I quicken my pace and enter the office. Her's is slightly bigger than the regular detective's. I guess that's the perks of being the chief of police. I couldn't understand why she would choose a spot in our floor while there is more space on other floors. She most likely wants to keep an eye on George. With her on this floor, many other divisions venture through here.

I'm greeted by a young white male that I estimate to be around his mid twenties. The curly brown hair is cut short neatly. His green eyes follow my every movement, much to my dislike. Chief Dean introduces him, "Swanson, this is Jack Mason. He just got promoted to detective. He'll be on our homicide division from now on."

I nod, holding out my hand, "Congratulations, Jack. Good to have you on the team. It's great to have a fresh pair of hands here." He shakes it, not breaking his gaze from mine. The man brimmed with confidence. Most rookies come in here with a jumpy personality either from being too eager or nervous. This newbie is calm and collected; I'll grow to like him if he continues to prove himself this early.

Jack smiles slightly, "Thanks. It's going to be busy for me. Chief Dean is making me do the work that most of the team had to drop because of the serial killer case- you call the guy the Hangman, right?" I nod then glance over to the chief. The poor guy's doing the work we are too busy to do by himself? This kid's a trooper.

Chief Dean speaks up, "Actually, you won't be doing those cases alone, Mason." I have an irking feeling on where she's going with this. Why else would she call me here? I shake my head immediately while she narrows her eyes at me. She continues, "Swanson here will be your partner for the time being. He can mentor you- and no Swanson, do not backdown from this-"

"But chief-"

"The only 'buts' in this department is mine. And it's huge enough to topple the whole team. I don't want to hear any complaints. I can't have you running around in the Hangman case without a partner."

"Then put me with George and Lucia!" I can feel my satisfied mood from texting Hal slowly drop. I can't believe she's kicking me off the case! This is uncalled for! I already have a lead I want to chase but if she does to me what am I to do? I still need to speak with Jenkins about the additional backgrounds on some names. The chief is tying my hands here!

"Swanson, I know you don't want to leave the case but there are a couple of reasons why I'm asking you to take Jack under your wing for a short time. One, you know the ropes on the simple cases. Two, all my other investigators are running around for our Hangman. Three, I want you to take a breather. This morning's actions showed how you are not able to continue in this case- don't you dare cut me off again, son- and I'm saying you need to rest just like Hal until you feel you are ready to rejoin. It won't be long so just do what I'm asking you to."

I'm silent, having a stare down with the chief. My jaw tightens in anger. She's really going to do this to me; there's no persuading her. I bite my lip once then break away from her intense gaze. One can only last for a few seconds when having a intimidation contest with the chief. I blink a couple of times then let out a short sigh, "Fine... I'll mentor the rookie."

The chief gives me a final nod in approval before I exit with Jack. I stop shortly in front of my office with Jack behind me. I turn to face him, "Alright, kid. If we are going to get this shit done, I'm going to work you to the bone. Can you handle it?"

Jack gives me a nod. The brunette curls of his bounce a tad from the firm movement. "Anything."

"Good. Trust your gut, follow my lead, and don't be a pain in the ass, Jack." I get another nod but with a grin this time.