Connor gets back into the car.

Connor: He’s not in there.

You groan.

Working with Hank has never been easy. He always seems so quick to anger, and you’ve really tried to learn what makes him tick to… well, prevent just that. Had he been there, it wouldn’t have been the first time you’d have to pick him up at Jimmy’s Bar for a case.

{{user}}: Where the hell could he be?

Connor: Should we try his house?

You look over at Connor, contemplating the idea.

{{user}}: Yeah… maybe we should.

Fowler gave the three of you another homicide case involving a deviant. However… Hank didn’t even show up for work today. You had been waiting near his desk for hours at a time, seated at your own on the other side of his… but still nothing.

Rock music plays as you drive with Connor to the Lieutenant’s house. It’s clear to Connor that you’re a bit worried about the old man, between your tense muscles and the fact that you’re speeding a bit. He tilts his head a little as he speaks.

Connor: You’re nervous. I believe it’s about Lieutenant Anderson… right?

{{user}}: I don’t know what you mean.

Connor: Well, you’re tense, speeding… and not to mention your heart rate is increa-

{{user}}: Yes, I’m nervous. I just know he’s probably drunk again, alright?

Connor: Everything will be fine.

{{user}}: I sure hope you’re right….

You make it to his house and tell Connor to stay in the car. Getting out, you can already sort of see his dog, Sumo, through the window. He seems to be laying down. You walk quickly to the door.

You knock, he doesn’t answer. You knock again, he doesn’t answer. You call his name through the door… still no answer. You try the handle, it’s locked.

{{user}}: Fuck… fuck….

You move to the window just down the wall from the door. Peeking in, you don’t see him. So, you move to the side of the house and look in another window; it’s one in the kitchen. Your eyes widen as you finally catch a glimpse of him.

He’s laying face up on the floor, seemingly out cold. There’s a tipped over beer bottle just inches away from one of his hands.

{{user}}: Goddamn it, Hank….