OH LAZARUS

“Then what the fuck is it?” Maverick was getting mad, his mood swings all over the place as he went from confused to anxious to angry within seconds. His worry for Henry was starting to turn into irritation, and he tensed when the other took his hands. He didn’t pull away, however, searching the detective’s face for some kind of answer, “What aren’t you telling me? You’re scaring me.”

Oh he had taken it too far… He hadn’t meant to, and he had not even imagined that Mav would draw the conclusion of him dying in cancer before the truth. But how do you tell your best friend that you’re in love with him? It had taken days before Henry even dared to call the other over, and now when Maverick stood right in front of him, the detective was acting like an idiot. “Okay.” He took a deep breath, meeting the other’s gaze. A pause followed wherein Henry tired to come up with a good way of confessing. No good way came to mind, so instead he sighed. “I have feelings for you, Maverick.”

“Good, then Westport is very lucky to have you.” A statement she wondered if he’d protest. She knew things weren’t always so easy and especially now, he probably wasn’t in the best of states given his recent break-up, but she wanted to let him know, whether he chose to believe it or not, that she saw him in a good light and was happy to have him here. “Just me.” She then echoed, nodding her head slightly and pinning her lips together into a thin line. There was no point in lying or trying to spare herself from embarrassment. Noah was gone now and that was that. “No, he’s since moved out. Got an apartment or something, I don’t know.” And she didn’t have a right to know. Noah was legally still her husband, but ever since she cheated she didn’t have a right to know a lot of things regarding him. “It is. There’s a lot to think about. But rather than thinking about any of it, I’m here, with you. Which is a much better option, in my opinion.”

“That’s nice of you to say.” He did not at all agree. Perhaps she saw that. She knew him fairly well after all. But either way, the fact that she said it, that she seemed to care if he stayed or not, it made happy. The very basic human instinct of being liked was present even in this detective, and having a friend in Danny mean a lot. “Oh, I’m sorry it didn’t work out…” Wasn’t this how the conversation had gone just after he’d broken up with Juliet? This time it wouldn’t end the same however. It wasn’t supposed to be Henry and Danny, not in the way his mind had wished only some months ago. He sighed, downing his drink. “I’m happy you’re here,” he said and a genuine smile took over his lips. “When life screws you over and you wanna ignore it, I’ll be there for you, just like you were there for me.” Screw husbands and sisters and life in general. 

“Henry –” He cut off, Henry’s words making his anxiety skyrocket. People always said this when they wanted to admit something. “Dio mio. You have cancer, don’t you?!” Maverick stood up, like the detective was insane thinking the Callahan could sit down after getting news like this. Granted, Henry hadn’t even said that, but Maverick’s mind had already gone to the worst option. “Fuck – how are you feeling? Are you okay? Do you need treatment? I’ll find you a wig if you don’t want to lose your hair. You’ll still be pretty without it, I promise.”

Mav didn’t like to think that Henry had all those scars – inflicted by years of pain he couldn’t imagine. While Maverick whined about his life, it was useless compared to Henry’s. That was a sobering thought as he gave a small smile, “It feels better. Like it never happened,” he admitted, reaching to pick up his glass when Henry reached for the bottle. The following crash made him jump, the shattering of the glass surprising him as the bottle then hit the floor. “Jesus fucking Christ, Henry.” He looked concerned, pushing his chair out so he could bend down to start picking up the larger pieces of glass out of worry Aristotle might step on them, “Are you okay?”

Maverick tapped his fingers on the table, finding amusement in the way Henry seemed surprised by the joke. He didn’t want the detective choking, anyway, “Breathe – unless you want mouth to mouth, then you just have to ask.” He gave a wry smile, picking up his glass to take a drink and look at Henry from over the top. The mention of the gala had him sighing, setting down his glass to think about it for a second. “Yeah, the gala.” Mav turned over his hand, the scar shining against his palm, “I’ve just been…dealing with everything,” he said slowly, like that was a valid excuse for how much of a homebody he’d been. The stress had made him want to relapse, and he’d holed himself in his and his brother’s place instead. But he didn’t come here to have Henry worry about that. “You miss me? You just have to ask and I’ll come over, you know.”

“But you’re sticking around Westport, right?” She questioned, brows raising slightly. Whether it be in an apartment or a house, she just wanted to know. “You know… if you uh, wanna get back to the house feeling, my place has four extra bedrooms. I’ve got all this space and well, it’s just me there, so I mean…” For a moment there, she paused, unsure if it was an appropriate idea. They were still best friends, she had to believe that they were, but who knew how he felt now. “Perfect, then I plan on stopping by whenever I damn well please. But don’t worry, I’ll always knock first and I’ll be sure to bring food so you have no choice but to let me in.” A chuckle then fell from her lips—she was finally feeling a bit more comfortable now. “Mmm, I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to her since and well, I sort of just left a few minutes after she told me. So I have no idea what she wants or where we go. Not even sure if I want anything from her.” Especially since she’d just be a constant reminder of how her father wanted this other girl, but not her. 

“Yeah that’s… that’s the plan.” He liked Westport so much more than his memories of LA. You couldn’t pay him to return back west, not after the hell he endured. He met her eyes, wondering for a moment if she was joking or not. He lingered by the thought, remembering how it felt to live with someone. Juliet had been the first person he settled down with, and after that ended he had spent his post-breakup grieving days with Maverick. Henry was getting more and more used to the thought that he was a couple-person. He needed someone else to share his life with. “Just you?” her final words landed only after the tide wave of thoughts had hit him. “Not Noah?”He nodded as Danneel mentioned her uncertainty considering her sister. He couldn’t imagine what he would have done himself if that was him. He always wanted a big family, and had found replacements in the people he had met in his life. Of course it was far from the same. A small part of him started to suddenly envy Danny, at her possibility of a real family. But, he shrugged it off, holding onto the hope that one day he’d be able to have kids and play house on his own. “Yeah… it’s… it’s a strange seat to be in.”

Maverick cleared his throat awkwardly, finding the conversation finisher typical. The Detective hardly said much, but now it was like pulling something from him that he obviously didn’t want to say. The Callahan sunk into his chair, watching the food get placed on his plate, “Right. So…” he gave a weak smile, “Any hot dates lately?” he pressed, glancing over at Aristotle when the dog abandoned him. Now he didn’t have something else to give his attention to, the idleness of the situation settling into the air. Maverick always found something to talk about, and he tried again, “You’re not leaving, right? This isn’t some goodbye and shit, yeah? Because if you take the dog, I’ll never talk to you again.”

Henry was getting terribly aware of how unnecessarily difficult he was being. Fear never shut him down like this - he was terrific when it came to throwing himself into situation that would leave him with scars. He always expected them to be physical however, and the risk he was taking now was unlike any he'd ever experienced before. "Dates?" The question almost made him choke on his pasta, his gaze meeting Maverick's. "Hell no." He chuckled without any real emotion behind it. He grabbed his glass again. Whiskey and pasta was an alright combination, right? “Nah… nothing like that.” Henry leaned back in his seat, taking a moment before speaking again. “I… uh, I thought it’d be nice with a dinner. Just us. Haven’t seen you since the… the gala.”

Maverick could feel Henry’s anxiety, even across the room as the Detective went into the kitchen. He rubbed the back of his neck, never one for awkwardness. He always managed to fill the silence with a joke, or something flirty when it came to Henry. Despite that, he stayed somewhat quiet, feeling like his heart was caught in his throat. 

He had wondered the whole way over what the dinner was for. Normally, they had take-out, watched some shitty comedy that had come out recently, then went their separate ways. Maverick rubbed his palms against the leather pants Lucien had gotten him – and he’d kept his word, wearing them the same night so he could find someone to take him home the minute he walked into one of Atlanta’s clubs. But he wasn’t in a rush to leave Henry’s – he never was. “Yeah? I thought you used to complain about eating out of bags,” he pointed out with a small smile, looking at the food and taking the glass. He wondered if this was that conversation. The one where Henry told him about how in love he was with a new woman – how he was moving, or leaving Georgia altogether. Before Maverick’s anxiety could upset him, he pushed the thoughts aside, taking a seat, “Damn, Henry. If I’d known you’d liked the soup that much, I would’ve made more. So what’s all this about? Did you get a promotion or something? I don’t think you’ve ever cooked. In what…three years?” 

Henry shrugged, taking, a large, sip from his own glass. His hands were sweaty now. He wiped his left on on his jeans. The detective had never been a man of many words, but that was never a problem around Maverick. Not anymore. He pushed another smile forward as Mav commented on the soup. It was his favourite meal, hands down. It had also been circa ninety percent of his diet when the two of them lived together. He had lost three kilos. Worth it. "Nah..." He sat down, motioning for Maverick to do the same. Aristotle found his spot on the sofa, seemingly no longer interested in the gathering when Mav stopped giving him attention. "I don't see a promotion in my future anytime soon." He fell silent, not even sure how to continue the conversation. He knew what he wanted to say, but he had no idea how to do it. Instead he proceeded to place the pasta on Mav's plate.   

“So… cozy, you mean?” A better word to help describe something that was smaller in size. Danneel had a liking for the small apartments in the city. There was always something about them that made her feel safe and warm. “Quiet is good. Allows you to breathe a bit. Though, I’m surprised you’ve managed to get something quiet downtown. You lucked out. Is it… a long-term thing?” She was curious, honestly. Did he plan on sticking around in Westport or what was going on now with him? “Mmm, yeah, I suppose so. How about it’s just a party of two? You, me, nachos and we’ll get some tequila or something to go with it. How’s that sound?” To her, it sounded nice, but at the same time, it sounded risky too. At his next comment, the brunette then laughed softly and shook her head. Hearing that word was hard to swallow, but hey, it was apart of her messy life now. “Yeah, apparently I do. Not that I’m too surprised. Figured me dad started a new family. Never thought I’d meet the offspring, though. It’s weird.”

Maverick’s head had been all over the place for days after the gala. He’d tried to lay low for a while, taking long walks by himself without Aristotle. He figured Henry needed some time as well, whether or not he was busy enough with the case or anything else the detective deemed important. When he’d gotten an offer for dinner, he’d almost laughed. Henry could cook? Either way, the answer had been a yes.

He found himself outside the door, knocking a couple times until Henry answered it. The first thing he could see was Aristotle, and Maverick reached his hand down to pet the dog on the head before he smiled at Henry, “Hey. You start the party without me, or what?” he huffed out a laugh at the scent of whiskey, leaning forward to give the other a hug. He pulled away after a moment, sliding by to look at everything, “I didn’t know you cooked, bello. Or did you order it?” he teased, setting down the bottle of scotch he’d brought along.

Aristotle was the first to reach the door, most likely already knowing who stood on the other side. Of course, Henry could figure out who it was as well. It was Maverick, his friend for… was it almost three years already? Maverick who’s first words to the detective had been 'to be horny’. Who had become his best friend. Who had been there for him no matter how difficult Henry had made it. “Though really, if you are horny, I can lend you a hand.’

“I’m pretty sure you’ll catch up.” He made the hug brief, feeling some kind of guilt already washing over him. Did this count as him lying to Maverick? Should he just say what he wanted to say immediately, like ripping off a Band-Aid? His body had already moved into the kitchen as his mind went on, and he was on his way to place the food on the table. No. Stick to the plan. “I used to do it more,” he said, grabbing a glass for Maverick, “learned all I know in Afghanistan.” He paused as he handed Maverick his drink. “Won’t be as good as your soup, but I tried.”

He hadn’t checked up on Mav since the gala. Now a couple of days had passed without even a phone call. The other man had told Henry that the Detective didn’t need to babysit him, and this had lead to the hesitation now holding Henry back from reaching out. Being free from work because of what had happened to him, Henry had spent some days alone with his chaotic thoughts. It had taken him some time to gather up the courage to call Maverick, to invite the other over. ‘For dinner?’ Uh, sure.  

He had made pasta. It tasted alright when he’d tested it. He hoped that the other wouldn’t expect much. As he waited for Maverick to arrive, he tapped nervously on the edge of his forth glass of whiskey. He was pretty sure however that he’d need the whole bottle to calm his nerves. He recognized his emotion as some kind of fear. Something entirely new and strange and… terrifying, lingering on in his mind since escaping the fire. His gaze met Aristotle’s, the dog watching him from the comfort of the sofa. “Should I do this?” The dog looked back at him. “You think this is a good idea?” Aristotle closed his eyes, trying to go back to sleep, 

Danae shot him a look when he called her Lady. One she had meant to come across as a glare but probably fell flat in her state but she didn’t really care. “Ooh so you think I’ve got pretty eyes?” she asked him, peering over her glass at him before adding, “Hmmm and what sort of ideas would you be getting?”

”Wouldn’t you like to know?” He forced himself to look away, some part of his mind knowing that this wasn’t good. He’d downed half of his drink already. It felt good. No matter if it was good or not. Henry had spent too much time worrying about everything going on. That was boring. “I could never use such foul language in front of you.”

Danae could feel that she was well past the phase of noticing the bitterness on her tongue as the gin and tonic passed her throat… it may as well have been water. “Hmmm… well if he were to be chased away then I’d be left all alone and I don’t want that,” her smirk was growing as she looked at him, her eyes dancing with mischief. Lord, if she remembered any of this she was going to be embarrassed in the morning. 

Giving her the old ‘oh, me?” look, he couldn’t help but laugh. Everything going on in his head, feelings that haunted him for no reason, it was all numbed by the bliss of intoxication. “Now, now Lady Howard,” he mumbled, raising his drink to his lips. “Be careful who you aim those pretty eyes at… Someone like myself might get the wrong idea.”

HENRY RICHARDS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT TASK 001 –

BASICS.

full name: Henry James Richards

nickname(s): Asshole, Idiot, Detective

gender: male

pronouns: he/him

birthdate: February 21st, 1984

occupation: Criminal Soldier Detective

sexual orientation: confused

She knew that she had more than her fair share of the gin that was going around the bar tonight but in all honesty, she didn’t care. Danae was by no means a rowdy drunk and was usually just extra cheery or a little flirty. And, as Henry (her drinking buddy for the evening) approaching, it seemed to be the latter of the two. “Oh you know… hanging around waiting on a guy that’s all kinds of wrong for me,” she purred, moving her drink to her lips.

“Oh really?” He turned to the bartender, ordering another of whatever he’d been drinking all night. Blue eyes returning to the lady next to him he nodded, the same sly smile lingering on his lips. “Now what would this guy like?” Getting his drink, he took a sip. It tasted nothing like alcohol anymore. That was usually a bad sign. “I need to know so that I can chase him away if he shows up.”