Into the Dark

“Yes, all police officers have to answer is ‘who did it.’ We have to answer ‘how’ and if someone actually did anything at all,” she commented. Damn, she felt a little tipsy now. She willed herself not to get too touchy–she was a flirty drunk, which had gotten her into trouble more than once. 

“I guess they don’t have our special skill set,” Isabelle comments. “And for that, they don’t get to chase around ghosts.” She never wanted to be in law enforcement. She took a job once as a small town police officer because it was the only job in the town and she stayed only three months before she moved on, partly from boredom. She doesn’t envy them at all. 

“If there’s one thing I’ve heard about Australians, it’s that they can definitely hold their alcohol.” Castillo smiled, “Although, I think half the countries on earth pride themselves on being big drinkers. That’s probably some sort of interesting social phenomenon.”

Isabelle shakes her head, wearing a half smile. “Pretty sure it’s the nationality equivalent of a pissing contest,” she says flatly, motioning towards the dingy bar at the end of the street. “That’s it.” There’s not really much to look at, actually, it looks a bit like a good desert wind could knock it straight over. “Guess you don’t really need them to be drunk though to know what they’re thinking,” she points out as they start towards the rusty door. 

“This beer is at least.” Hunter smirked as his eyes flickered towards the glass and he drained it. Growing up he didn’t have any siblings, there wasn’t really anyone he could lean on or turn to advice. There was prayer, but it obviously wasn’t the same. As he grew more familiar with her it became abundantly clear that there was little he wouldn’t do for Isabelle, Hunter could only assume that if he did have a sister, this is what it would feel like.

She nods, picking up her paper again. “Escape before Castillo comes down,” she says, nodding towards the door, before finishing her beer, leaning over and tossing it in the bin. One look though, and Victoria would know, there’s really no point. “I already met the local bartender, think you’ll like him,” she comments, shaking her head as she turns the page, wondering how many pages they actually need for sport. 

“I mean, you say that like you’re kidding, but I think I saw some pretty big grey clouds comin’ our way…” He couldn’t really remember the last time he’d joked around with someone else like this, when his conversation had been nothing but light, free of the usual inhibitions and the constant necessity to remain guarded. He was surprised to find that it was quite nice.

Isabelle has to smile at the comment, looking instinctively towards the tinted windows. "I'll be sure to come to your desk tomorrow to discuss the rain," she says, distracted momentarily as the amber liquid is finally poured into her glass. 

Another case, another vast expanse of desert. But there was something different about this one, something… the word otherworldly had crossed his mind, albeit briefly. It was as though the earth itself was imbued with some sort of power, and the air felt tinged with a sense of the mysterious, the unknown. Looking out at the way the outback stretched on, seemingly into eternity, the earth burnt ochre under the blazing sun, you could really believe that this was the kind of land on which people disappeared without explanation.

Sylvie wiped her hair away from her face, the sweat causing it to cling to her forehead in a distinctly unpleasant way. After Mexico she’d hoped they’d end up somewhere nicer, and……colder. Perhaps Germany, or Russia, or Belgium. Not another damn desert wasteland. 

It's loud here, louder than she thought it would be. Birds that sounded like they were screaming woke her up at five in the morning and the air sticks to her, not in the way she remembers it in Spain, but with a dry heat that's uncomfortable against her eyes.

Excitement bubbled in him at the prospect of the challenge. Here he’d been thinking that his night would be a quiet one, that he’d have a few drinks and then go back to his apartment. And then Isabelle had walked in, and now his heart danced with the challenge. It was a bit of fun, a way for two hard-working detectives to amuse themselves, take their thoughts away from death and missing persons reports. But it was something else, too. A bonding exercise. And a challenge.

She studies the drinks in front of them, raising her eyebrow in amusement. It’s a flimsy excuse to get drunk, but it’s still an excuse, and she’s been told over and over again that she needs to bond with her teammates, so that’s exactly what this is - bonding the best way she knows how. “I was thinking along the lines of neither of us needing a liver transplant anytime soon,” she jokes with a straight face, holding her first shot glass in her hand 

Bourke had a population of just over two thousand, tiny, and so there was no way any of the team could slip into their community without ringing a few alarm bells. They didn’t exactly look or act like locals. He had promised, once at the briefing and again on the plane, to keep his mouth shut while the rest of the group gathered information - a vow of silence quickly broken. The landscape was hostile, and Jasper, with his pale skin and frail bones was far from suited to it. It felt like Groundhog Day, a punishment for their shortcomings in Mexico. They were now doomed to repeat the same struggles over and over again. 

She looks up from the paper, studying Jasper for a second, looking all the bit out of place as she feels.  “I don’t know, there’s something nice about the heat,” she says, slightly amused as she blows on her coffee. “And imagine, it’s winter here.” It’s said with the lightness she can manage with the jet lag and caffeine still trying to make its way through her veins and also her general disposition. 

“We are here for work.” Castillo pointed out mildly. It was true though, she probably needed to dedicate some period of each day to not thinking about work. Maybe she could start scheduling that in. “But - fine, no work talk. Although let’s just keep our ears open in case we hear anything.”

“You can’t work 24/7,” she points out lightly, a small smile on her face. She’s tried. It doesn’t work. You find yourself only half there and it’s never worth it in the end. She suspects that Castillo knows this though. “We can definitely keep our ears open though,” she agrees. “People didn’t really seem happy to talk earlier, hopefully Australians can’t hold their alcohol.” 

“Psh, yeah almost but maybe not quite.” Hunter smirks as he takes another sip. He’s always preferred animals to most people, but in most cases around here that might not be strictly true. Some creatures were better appreciated from afar… Though he supposed he could say the same about most people as well. He doesn’t really know anything about where Isabelle is from, really it’s anyone’s guess but if he was a betting man he’d wager she wouldn’t want to talk about it.

Isabelle chuckles under her breath, raising her glass just an inch towards Hunter. He’s getting better at this game, and although she trusts Hunter completely, there’s still a part of her that it terrifies just slightly. She needs to remind herself that she can’t run from his life - that this is it, this is pretty close to permanent, and maybe it’s okay to get slightly attached. Of course, she never has to voice that out loud, but it’s still there. 

“Thanks,” Hunter says with a nod as he takes the beer, it’s a pale lager and isn’t half as bad as he was expecting it to be. He has to think about her question for a few seconds, it’s hard to say really. “I try not to. I mean… Back home someone buys more eggs than usual and everyone whispers about it after mass. But in New York somebody gets shot and you’re lucky if it makes the papers.” Hunter pauses for a second, “I think people just care less in a big city.”

“Yeah,” she says, looking down at the bottle in her hands. “Almost makes up for the bird-eating spiders out back,” she comments dryly as she takes another sip. Sometimes she forgets that Hunter came from one of these towns, though she doesn’t know how. He still carries that small town... something with him. It’s not a bad thing, not necessarily a good, but it’s definitely a thing.

There’s a beauty to it that goes understated, people living under some of the harshest conditions and still somehow laughing in the face of a dozen poisonous snakes. Back home people see a spider too big and they scream as if it could do anything but kill an insect. Hunter doesn’t say much of anything in response, he wonders how long she stayed last time before she left but also doesn’t ask. “Yeah.” Comes the simple reply as he follows her gesture despite the fact it led nowhere. A lot of things came out of this place, a lot of things got lost. 

“A beer always sounds good.” It doesn’t take her much time and she’s pushing a cold beer into Hunter’s hands and taking a sip of her own as she sits back on the couch. “You ever wonder why stuff like this only seems to happen to towns like this?” She asks after a minute of starring down at the paper that didn’t have much to report except for some fair that’s on every first Saturday. 

“Probably, yeah.” He agrees, but as it stands he has some time to kill. Hunter wonders if there’s a chance any of the kids are still alive but shakes it away, it doesn’t do well to get too emotionally attached. After four years it’s something he’s still working on. “Well, that’s not exactly a difficult feat.”

“It’s nice here, so far away from everything else,” she says, not confirming that he’s right, but it’s highly implied. “Someone would really want to get here if they’re willing to take the plane ride.” Even South East Asia, the flights long enough that you’d question how much time you really want to spend in a plane to land where half the creatures (and plants) could kill you.  “Plus, you can really get lost here.” She points towards the window, the store next door not really adding much to her point, but she know that Hunter gets it. 

“With those ‘you should be working right now’ eyes no doubt.” Hunter said with a smirk before he glanced at the counter, “is it any good?” She’s probably the most likely person on the team to have tried it already. He’s not exactly a connoisseur, he’d already adapted to the fact that American beer is weak, so if Australian beer is crappy he’ll make do. 

Isabelle laughs. “She’d probably be right,” she admits, though she already put in her full eight hours today - the UCU never seemed to care about things like working hours or overtime. “It’s alright, go for the dry stuff.” She knows from her visit to the pub the night before. “Better than the American stuff anyways.” 

“Feel free to smack me if I pick up either of those.” Hunter mused as he glanced at the paper in front of Isabelle. Absently he wished for something a bit stronger than this coffee, but it was a bit early in the day for his taste - not that there was much here anyways. He had a flask, but drinking on the job wouldn’t go over well and it wasn’t like Hunter could really hide anything from Castillo.

“Oh, I will,” she says it like it’s a promise, and it kind of is. There’s no way she is carrying that home with her. “They serve beer too.” She reads the look on Hunter’s face, a familiar one. “But Castillo is still upstairs, and I’m sure ten minutes away from coming down to ask us what we’ve found.”

The place is far from glamorous, in fact if he’s being honest it’s a bit of an arm pit as far as towns go. They don’t even have public transportation. Still, from what he’s heard by poking around the community, it’s getting better. Justice Reinvestment is rare, most places are sooner to throw money into their prisons than into the community - a temporary fix for a problem that is clearly systemic. 

Isabelle half laughs into her cup, studying Hunter’s face. “Everyone here either calls you mate or darling, and I can’t decide which I dislike more,” she half-jokes, blowing on the hot coffee. In truth, it’s more of a ‘dahl’ which she had to have explained to her is ‘darling’ and not ‘doll’ which nearly started a fight (which Castillo would not have liked at all). 

Castillo nodded thoughtfully, “It might be a good idea, if we can ingratiate ourselves with the locals and become familiar faces they’re likely to talk to us more easily.” she paused, “Or am I thinking too much in work mode again?”

Isabelle nods, moving towards the entrance of the department. “Yeah, you are,” she says simply, motioning for her to follow. “You can just have a drink, you know? You can maybe even go the next three hours without thinking about the case,” she adds once they’re on the street and she’s trying to remember the way to the old pub.