Lincoln's POV:
I don't even look over at the door when I hear it open. If Atticus is going to leave on his day off and ignore my existence, then I have every right to ignore him. I told him that it was unfair that he had to go in, and that he should tell his douche of a boss that he did not want to, but of course he said yes, because we can't have a nice day off where we sleep in apparently.
"Hey, babe..." Atticus tries, but I continue to wash my dishes and ignore his existence. "It's pretty early... I thought you'd still be asleep."
I force a smile, and he knows it isn't a real smile. "Well, I was actually sleeping really well until my idiot boyfriend woke up and was being loud on the phone and then left me," I tell him, making Atticus wince at my attitude. "So you can blame yourself for this."
"I don't like taking blame," Atticus whines, coming up behind me as I make myself tea. He places his hands that are always littered in callouses from whatever he does at work on my hips, and then kisses my neck. "I can make it up to you."
Nope! Not after you woke up at five and left me here alone knowing that you could have denied going in to work!
I turn around and shoot him a deadly glare, making him pout but take his hands off my hips. "You made your choice this morning when you could have just let the phone ring as opposed to going in on our only coming day off!" I exclaim, crossing my arms and glaring at him. "Why was your ringer even on?!"
"Just in case," Atticus mumbles, sitting down at the dining room table.
Now I feel like a piece of shit.
I know that Atticus has issues not responding to calls from work. He has an internal anxiety and guilt issue that acts up when he ignores a call from work, because he knows he could have gone in to help out his team. While I feel bad about it, he and I have talked about attempting to fix it, and it's kind of difficult to do so when he is still following his old habits.
"This morning was different, Lincoln," Atticus says, earning my attention.
I walk over to the table and sit down beside him, taking his hand in my own. "How so?"
"A boy only a year younger than you was murdered by someone with the Mistacesemia malfunction," he says, and my blood runs cold. "He was ripped apart and there was a message on the wall that I was told about but have not read yet because I didn't want to stay at the office too long. My only job was to collect one of the ones with the malfunction who lives in the area and interrogate them to rule out certain people."
"You haven't seen any pictures of the crime scene?" I ask him, rubbing Atticus' hand with my thumb.
He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but it's rare that something this bad happens. I-"
"It's okay," I cut him off, feeling the original traces of my anger and irritation flowing away. "That's terrifying, though, Atticus. And it explains the call I got this morning..."
Atticus furrows his eyebrows. "What call?"
"I got a call from the office but I ignored it because I'm taking my full day off, but now I'm rethinking it..." I grumble, and Atticus seems to be fighting back a laugh because he knows that I hate going in on my day off.
"You're one of the best doctors there, babe," Atticus says, taking my phone and unlocking it. "Have you listened to the voicemail?"
I shake my head as Atticus hits the button.
"Hey Lincoln, it's Danielle. I'm calling because someone was killed and it's assumed that a person with the Mistacesemia malfunction did it. The boss wants you to preform the autopsy and determine whether or not that was the cause of death. He won't let anyone else give their opinion, so if you could come in today that would be great, and if not, that's your task for tomorrow! Thanks!"
I groan and lay my head on the table.
"She said you could wait," Atticus says, because he knows that I do not want to go into work.
However, both he and I know this is a rare occasion. If it really was someone with the Mistacesemia malfunction, I need to confirm that so we can start narrowing down our search field.
"So much for our common day off," I say, forcing a smile as I peck Atticus' lips. "You wanna come with?"
"Yeah, sure. It seems as though we'll be working on this one together, so we might as well both be present," Atticus says as I disappear into our room and put on my work scrubs before finishing my coffee and getting in the car.
It is way too early for this; especially as a specialist who gets to work in the late morning most days. Waking up at six is cruel and unusual punishment.
"How long do you think it'll take?" Atticus asks me as we pull onto the unsurprisingly clear road and head toward my office.
I shrug. "Normal ones only take a couple of hours, but because this is unusual territory, it may take up to four... if you want to come pick me up at the end, you can," I tell Atticus, because he deserves more sleep.
"No, it's alright. I was just wondering because I'm starving and want to order some food," he responds, reaching over the center console and patting my thigh. "Take your time."
I am so in love with this man.
When we arrive at my office, Danielle is sitting at the receptionist desk, despite being a Mistacesemia specialist like me. She catches the confused look on my face and rolls her eyes dramatically.
"Kasey called out again," she grumbles, referring to the new front desk guy who was hired and has a tendency not to show up. "As soon as we find someone new, he's out of here."
"He's a brat," I agree, taking the file that she hands me. "Have you done your own analysis?"
Danielle nods. "I think it was someone with the malfunction. I called the Oregon Supernatural Investigation Unit and they said there were no cameras in the area so they don't have solid proof. You wouldn't happen to know anything, would you Atticus?"
Atticus shakes his head. "I only did one interrogation today but I haven't even seen the crime scene images. Today is supposed to be our day off," he explains, kissing my cheek so I can take off and go preform the autopsy. "Have fun!"
"Always do," I respond sarcastically.
It's never fun to preform an autopsy... especially for someone this young. He looks like he's in his early twenties, only a few years younger than me. His body is in terrible shape; his stomach has been torn open, his eyes are gouged out, and his throat is torn open.
All of his internal organs have been taken, and it is clear that based on the state his body is in that he was still alive when he was ripped open. His hands have deep marks from knives and most of his bones are broken. Only someone of immense strength could do this, or someone with powers. So, either an MMA wrestler decided to kill him, or someone with the malfunction killed him, and that is unfortunately the conclusion I am leading toward.
I finish my report before covering up the body, taking a minute of silence for the boy. We still don't have a name to the mauled body, but it will not be long until they match the body to a name.
My only hope is that the family does not ask to see the body, because that would be horrible.
Danielle and Atticus are conversing when I leave the room, both of them eating sandwiches from my favorite sandwich place.
My heart warms when Atticus' eyes find me and he holds up a bag with lunch for me, but my appetite is ruined for the time being. I hand Danielle my report and sigh, sitting in the chair beside hers, since my childish boyfriend is sitting on the counter.
"Someone with the malfunction killed him," I tell her, grabbing the phone on the desk. "Does the boss want me to call him?"
She nods. "Yeah, most likely. He was really eager to hear your analysis," she tells me, finishing her sandwich. "Also, I have an appointment at ten for a four year old to test their blood and plasma. Would you be willing to hang out here until Jada comes in at eleven?"
I look over to Atticus for clarification that he's fine with it, and he nods. "Yeah, I can," I tell her as I dial my boss' number.
He answers on the first ring.
"Hi, Mr. Mora, this is Lincoln. I'm just calling because I did the autopsy and I wanted to let you know that it was an individual with the Mistacesemia malfunction who killed the boy. We still don't have a name, but I believe that the OSIU is on that and should be passing that information onto us soon enough."
"Sounds good. I'm sorry I couldn't come in, but I'm in Texas visiting my sister and this is a pretty sensitive case. Thanks for coming in."
"No problem, we're going to have the body transferred as soon as they find the name so we can have the OSIU contact the family," I inform him, before we say our goodbyes and hang up.
"It's really weird," Atticus says, pursing his lips. "Most people with the malfunction would hide it if they planned on murdering someone... bigger mass of people to search, you know?"
I nod, because this is surprising, and nothing we have ever experienced. Usually it's an accidents injury involving a person with the the condition, since they usually do not fight back when attacked, but we have never seen a purposeful murder like the one before us.
"It's strange, for sure," I agree, my mind wracking with ideas over what could have happened. "The only thing I can think of is that they would want to be known... like one of those crazy ones that gets on the news because they believe themself to be all-powerful and want to prove their power. If that was the case though, why do it at a random time with no cameras?"
Atticus shrugs. "Maybe it was a fight between the two people? We won't know much until we have a name and know a bit more about the victim."
He's right, but it doesn't stop my mind from racing through new ideas and what could have possibly happened.
For some reason, I have a feeling that this will not be an open and shut case.
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