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Enjoy the Moment	By : Arumeicourt Category: +G through L > Heavy Rain Views: 2070 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Heavy Rain, and am not affiliated with Quantic Dream, or Sony. I do not own Norman Jayden, Carter Blake, or any offical characters contained within. I earn no money from this work of fiction.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Author's Note: I haven't even proof-read this yet (it's late and I'm lazy), so anticipate heavy editing...Also, I took the liberty of combining the endings "Innocent" and "A New Life" together because, come on, Grace is a total bitch. And Madison doesn't get enough love.

Dear Norman,
I'd like to thank you for sending Shaun that game for his birthday, but he hardly plays with any of his other presents! He drags it to Grace's house too though, which drives her insane…so I can't complain too much.
I know you were too busy to come up for the party, but we'll have your head if you miss the wedding. Madison promised to use every resource she has to dig up something on you, and Shaun and I have our own ways of handling evildoers.
But seriously, it'd mean a lot to the three of us if you showed up. We're all doing great, by the way, thanks for asking. We ended up moving out into the suburbs since work was getting a little tough to find, but Grace is being surprisingly cooperative and Shaun adjusted very well.
We're all still having the nightmares, yeah, but I think moving helped. The neighborhood is much safer, for starters, and Shaun's school is full of much nicer people. It's away from a lot of pesky journalists as well. (…Please don't tell Mad I said that)
Mad's already mailed out the invitations for the wedding, but we'd all love to see you again if you ever get the time beforehand.
Take care of yourself,
Ethan
Inside the envelope the letter had been sent in was a small photo. As Norman took it in hand, he found the Mars family beaming up at him, Ethan with his arm wrapped around Madison, both of them holding a hand on Shaun's shoulders who stood in front of them. Despite the slight strain around all of their eyes, the smiles on their faces were far from fake. Norman could easily imagine the three of them laughing and hugging after the picture had been taken, could practically see Ethan grabbing Shaun and hoisting him into a piggy back ride while Madison watched with a smile.
Norman flipped the photo with a genuine smile of his own, realizing with a blink that on the back of the photo was another messy note from the head of the Mars family. This one was far smaller, yet the amount of raw emotion it contained pulled at Norman's heartstrings more than anything else in the envelope.
Thanks for the second chance, it read simply.
Norman sat down into the chair at his desk with an exhale full of a series of emotions, yet a grin occupied his expression stronger than anything else. Smiling was the only thing keeping him from weeping openly like a damn baby at Ethan's note. God, he was a complete sucker for this kind of sappy stuff.
Despite all the time that had passed, the Mars family didn't look too different from the last time he had saw them. Less stressed, certainly, but the stubbornly cheerful demeanor on all their expressions was the same he had seen several months ago when he had met them all for dinner once Ethan was released from prison.
It had been ages since they had last seen one another face to face, Norman realized with a stab of guilt. He had sent letters, called them a few times, even sent postcards when he was in different states for work, but they hadn't actually met in person in far too long despite him having been in Philadelphia…many times to date. The "culprit" in this case was fairly obvious – Carter Blake.
Oh god, if Madison wanted to find dirt on me, that'd be it… Actually, Norman was reasonably certain the journalist knew something about his relationship with the police lieutenant. She was tactful enough to not say anything over the phone as Ethan was always present on the other line, but she did mention Blake too often, too lightly, for her to not be suspecting something.
…What a headline that would be. The famed FBI Agent who cracked the Origami Killer case…caught together with its head police lieutenant…Yeah, that'd help both our careers.
Color rushed to Norman's face, yet it did nothing to erase the still present smile. He wasn't seriously worried – while he wasn't extremely close to Madison, he still considered her a friend, and knew as such that she'd never publish something so lethal against him. No, she probably was just exhibiting that female intuition, someone who knew something was going on but would rather watch and tease than say anything and ruin the fun.
Women. The thought was mostly without venom – Norman was in far too good of a mood to put any negative feeling behind it. Besides…now that he thought about it, what he…"had" with Carter was partially her fault. Hers and Ethan's.
Norman closed his eyes, the images flowing through his mind as vividly as if he had put on ARI. It had been only a couple weeks after Ethan was released from prison. Norman had only just finished all the paperwork from the murders back in D.C. when he received the invitation from the family. After the illusion scare with ARI and the beginning of his attempts to quit triptocaine, Norman had accepted without hesitation, desperate for some human interaction and compassion.

"That's you," Shaun pointed at the drawing rather unnecessarily.
"'Course it is…looks just like me!" Norman grinned, bending down on one knee to properly see the picture.
"Really?" Shaun asked excitedly. "I didn't remember exactly what you looked like, so I kinda made some stuff up…"
Norman ruffled the enthusiastic child's hair fondly with a laugh. Coming down to Ethan's house had been a good idea after all – being around a kid was absolutely perfect for him. He had been craving the company of someone that wasn't full of judgement, falsified concern, or tactless questions. Norman loved kids; it was a huge part of the reason why he had immediately accepted being dispatched to the Philadelphian police force. Not only did he desire some field experience, but the very idea that a grown adult was targeting kids exclusively filled him with an almost mad dedication to see the bastard put to justice.
Seeing Shaun so pale and lifeless as he pulled him from the water filled grate had almost ruined him. Yet when life had finally returned to Shaun, it was as if the rain water was showering him with relief. For a moment, he had quite forgotten that Shelby had fled, his only concern being the boy in front of him. Norman had even managed to put aside his hatred towards one Carter Blake as he called for an ambulance and the man himself before heading off to end the streak of child murders for good.
He hadn't anticipated how permanent he'd make the stop of the murders. While Norman knew he might be called to kill another human being, (and having already shot Nathaniel in what Norman could only consider to be cold blood, not to mention watching Jackson Neville die without raising a hand) he couldn't have prepared himself for watching Scott Shelby fall into the grinder below. He had wanted justice, for the sake of the families of the victims…not vengeance.
You tried to help him up, and he tried to kill you again. You did all you could, Norman assured himself firmly. He shook his head slightly, returning his gaze to Shaun's illustration.
Norman was no artist himself, so he had to appreciate that Shaun could at least draw with detail. He could easily recognize himself, standing off against a much larger man in a police uniform that Norman presumed to be Scott Shelby. He himself was wearing his suit, and…ARI. Though of course, Shaun had just drawn what he thought were just sunglasses. But there was a streak line of blue radiating from the glasses, making it all the way to Shelby before turning red as if exploding.
"And that's, um…" Norman trailed off, indicating to the blue line.
"You're shooting lasers at the bad cop," Shaun explained patiently, as if Norman wasn't someone quick to catch on.
…I'll have to tell the FBI about that idea.
Norman smiled again and nodded as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. After a moment, he drew his eyes away from the picture with a serious expression.
"I 'preciate being called a superhero, Shaun, but…You do know that there were a lot of other heroes who helped you, right? Like your dad and Madison. They worked…really hard to make sure you were found safely."
"Hard" didn't even begin to describe it. Despite not necessarily having the need to know, Norman had read through the files on both of their roles in the murders. What Ethan had to do to get more letters to Shaun's address was nothing short of horrifying. Not for the first time, Norman felt rather guilty it hadn't been Ethan himself who saved Shaun. He tried to mark it off as folly – it was evident that Ethan was just happy Shaun was alive, and Norman had at least tried by releasing Ethan from prison the first time – but like Shelby had indicated in his rage, he couldn't help feeling that he didn't have the "right" to be the one to save him. The look of sheer desperation in Ethan's eyes when he had pounded on the glass doors at the precinct, begging Norman to save Shaun…Those were the eyes of a real hero, someone who would stop at nothing to save their son.
Madison, too, had nearly killed herself more than once in her efforts to gather information. In a way, her story was equally impressive. Norman at least had been assigned to do all the stupidly dangerous shit he had encountered – Madison was helping an utter stranger. Even if she was simultaneously chasing a story, he knew from personal experience that one just didn't dedicate themselves so hard to rescuing another person by motivation of their job alone.
The worry that their efforts were lost on the boy were completely washed away by the look of understanding on Shaun's face.
"I know," Shaun nodded. "My dad…I know nothing bad will ever happen again while he's here. And Maddie's strong, and funny too, so I know Dad will be okay…and me too." Norman gave a relieved nod in affirmation. He wasn't expecting Shaun to say any more on the subject until he pointed at the paper again, this time motioning toward another set of people Norman hadn't even noticed beforehand. He assumed the smaller figure was Shaun himself, being carried by a man wearing a shirt colored by the same blue crayon Shaun had used for ARI's laser beam. The top of his head was scribbled black; matching the small circle on the bottom that Norman realized…strongly resembled a goatee…
"And I know the police were working hard too," Shaun confirmed with a small nod. "That's the police officer that drove me to the hospital," he clarified, mistaking the look on Norman's face to be one of polite confusion. "He was really nice…And he visited me lots while I was in the hospital, too."
Norman tried to even his expression with a smile again as he accepted the drawing from Shaun, gently folding it before placing it in his wallet. He slowly followed Shaun outside his room and back downstairs to the living room, his highly stressed mind racing all the while. …Blake likes kids too, huh? Never woulda guessed.
Though honestly, that thought shouldn't surprise him as much as it did. There was never a time in Norman's workings with the Philadelphian police force that Carter Blake wasn't working. Though his actions, in Norman's opinion, hindered the case more than they had helped, it didn't change the fact that the near fanatical focus Blake had on saving Shaun wasn't entirely different from his own. Blake had rejected his own approach as a waste of time that could have been spent towards looking for Shaun, and the absolutely disgusted look on his face when Norman had explained the killer's murder method confirmed his suspicion that Blake's concern was genuine, even if his methods were misguided to say the least.
"Shaun, we're not leaving until you put a coat on!" Norman blinked as Madison's voice overrode his thoughts.
"It's not even that cold," Shaun protested half-heartedly, silencing himself the moment Madison's hands rose to her hips stubbornly. Without another word of protest, Shaun turned to return upstairs.
Her glare softened to a slight smile as she nodded politely to Norman. Behind her, Ethan appeared from the other room, placing a hand on her shoulder with a smile before directing his attention towards Norman.
"I hope Shaun didn't bother you too much. He was so excited to hear you were coming, I figured he wouldn't leave you alone." Norman nervously listened for resentment in his voice, immensely relieved when he sensed none.
"Nah…nah, of course not," he chuckled. "Just showin' me some pictures he drew…"
Ethan nodded seriously. "He does that a lot…He did it when his older brother…passed away a while back too." Norman winced at the pain in Ethan's voice – Ethan's file (which he steadily felt more and more he had no business reading) had everything about the car accident that had stolen his first son. Still, even behind the strain, Norman could sense there was question there.
"It's normal," he explained, keeping his tone comforting. "Kids don't know how to talk about that kinda stuff, so they express it through other means."
Ethan scratched his clean shaven face for a moment with a small frown. After a moment's thinking, however, he smiled.
"The pictures are a lot happier this time, though. Before, they were…more graphic."
"That's good," Norman said as encouragingly as possible. "Really. It'll just take time…for all of us," he added.
A mutual understanding was present without words between the three of them. Each of their experiences throughout the case had been different, yet the traumatic aftermaths were remarkably similar. They were certainly wounds only time could heal.
"So, uh…" Norman fidgeted slightly, longing to shift the mood…and ask the pair about Blake. He couldn't help but be immensely curious about the man's behavior – complete asshole as he was, he had been his partner. One that he never had the opportunity to learn anything about, due to the nature of the case they worked on, not to mention the fact that they couldn't be in one another's presence without fighting. If anything, Norman wanted to hear that Shaun had misjudged Blake's actions so he could return to viewing the man without any positive qualities – so he could go back to hating him in peace.
"Shaun told me that Car….that the police lieutenant, Blake, helped him…?"
Ethan smiled slightly at the unspoken question. "I figured that'd surprise you. I know you two didn't exactly get along-"
"What gave'yah that impression?" Norman mumbled under his breath.
"-The punch in the face tipped me off," he chuckled. "But he really was a big help to Shaun…Before, he'd have panic attacks if any police officer approached him. But he didn't have that problem with Lieutenant Blake at all. He agreed to ask everything the police needed to know, and even after they were done collecting Shaun's testimony he'd come back and visit him."
Norman shifted uncomfortably, seeking for something he could say in response. "So that's that? Ethan, he beat the shit out of you! You'd be facin' trial as the Origami Killer if Blake had his way. And if you knew everything he did before that…Well, hell, just ask your therapist!"
Ethan merely listened patiently to Norman's rant. As he took a pause to breathe before continuing (really, Norman could go all night), however, he overrode him.
"Before? Actually…when I reported Shaun as missing, he tried to comfort me by saying Shaun probably just ran away and that they'd spend the night looking for him," he pointed out with a small smile.
All Norman could manage to that was an exasperated look. "…Ethan, I'm s'ahrry, but you're way too forgivin-"
It was Madison that interrupted their argument, placing a hand on Norman's shoulder. Norman shut his mouth, directing his irritated gaze at her instead. It only made her smile slightly before squeezing her grip supportively.
"Nobody's saying the guy's a saint, Jayden," she said gently. "But…we were all stressed out that week. I think we all did things under that stress that we regret now." Norman's eyes flicked towards Ethan again for a moment, noting the pained look in his face before returning his focus to Madison. She released her hold on his shoulder before playfully punching him. Before he could respond, she looked passed him to Shaun, who had returned sullenly, coat in hand. "…But enough about that damn case. I don't know about you three, but I'm famished."
Norman smiled weakly before following them to the car. He wasn't bothered by what Ethan had said (because, quite frankly, in his eyes one or two good deeds did not pardon the rabid cop's laundry list of bad ones) so much as what Madison had. Norman had always prided himself in being the "good cop". Before the Origami case, he had never taken another man's life…And then Nathaniel Williams came along. The fluid, stabbing motions the man had made forced Norman to rely on instincts alone – something the intellectual had never done before due to his desire to know the situation completely and utterly before acting.
The results were reflected in the misguided yet utterly innocent man's eternal gaze. The ultimate price of acting while under pressure – who was to say that wasn't what moved Blake's hand as well? After 8 murders, the pressure to save a child's life must have been immense.
After the blunder, Blake had been…remarkably similar to the man Ethan had just tried to paint him out to be. Supportive, if in his own awkward, blunt way. It wasn't until long after the talk that Norman finally rationalized why the otherwise uncaring cop had been sympathetic – even if Blake hadn't actually been in danger after Nathaniel put the gun aside, Norman's hasty actions had proven to him that he'd be willing to kill to save his partner's life.
But what about the other man Norman had watched die during his investigation? Blake hadn't been around for it to be the bad cop…and Norman had taken the role into his own hands. Norman had blamed triptocaine, withdrawals, and sheer stress after having just been threatened with his fucking life by Jackson Neville, but it didn't change the fact that he had threatened to shoot the man, or even blow him up if he didn't comply. After hearing Madison's words, the excuse didn't hold as much water as before.
No, no. 's totally apples to oranges…You saw that damn skull. Mad Jack would've killed you. Ethan's therapist wasn't exactly holding Blake at gunpoint before he got the shit beaten out of him.
That was certainly the case…but what about the guard at the Blue Lagoon? After Shelby had nearly broke his neck, Jayden was hurled into another state of drug aided fear and anger. Hearing the guard dryly refuse to cooperate with him sent him over the edge – despite his previous lectures against violence, the bouncer quickly found himself shoved against the wall in the moment of heated rage. Luckily for the both of them, he had complied. Norman honestly didn't know what he would have done otherwise, and that scared him more than anything else.
He could blame triptocaine all he wanted, and the argument was certainly valid. But it merely explained his actions, doing absolutely nothing to justify them. Not to mention…Blake was quite right that Norman had very little field experience. No doubt Blake probably had more self-restraint when he started being a cop god knows how many years ago. How long before Norman himself went apeshit on anyone that refused to spill their story immediately? Could he honestly say he had the moral high ground?
…Was he really that different from Carter Blake?

"…so after all that, courtesy of Captain Perry, it's nearly impossible for Ethan to get work around here," Madison finished with a sigh. All but finished with her plate, she set her fork down and gave Norman an irritated stare. He managed a sympathetic smile back at her.
"Is moving out of the question? I bet a new home would be good for all of you…Someplace a little quieter, with less prying eyes."
"Not until Champ finishes the school year," Ethan answered, ruffling the hair of his son affectionately. "I don't want to pull him out of school halfway."
"I want you to," Shaun mumbled after swatting his dad's arm away. "I hate my school."
"No, you hate school."
"Same thing."
Norman watched the argument silently, amusement twinkling in his eyes. It was quite surprising that Shaun had immediately returned to school after leaving the hospital – He would have expected the boy to be too traumatized to return so quickly, yet Shaun had complied and even caught up with all of his schoolwork to boot. It was more than a little impressive for someone his age, even if he did express an adamant dislike for school like all kids.
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," Shaun announced after the slight pause. "Don't leave without me."
"Ahh, you saw right through our plan of leaving you with the check," Madison joked. Shaun glared back at her, though Norman spotted a small smile before he completely turned around and walked away.
"…He's okay with school, then?" Norman broke the silence after a moment.
"As good as he can be. Kids can't help but be curious about it…and adults even more so," Ethan added with a grimace. "I bet a new school is just what he needs."
"…But enough about us, Mr. FBI. How have you been?" Madison inquired with a smile.
Norman choked on his water, setting the glass down unsteadily as he felt the curious gaze of the couple on him. "Nothin' new to report…" he gasped.
"That hasn't already been said on Let's Talk Tonight?" she replied, openly grinning now.
"Oh, Christ…" Norman ran a hand through his hair, feeling his cheeks warm considerably. "You watched that?"
"Us and the rest of the nation," Ethan replied, joining Madison's teasing.
"God, I wish they hadn't aired that…I hate interviews," he groaned. "Can't evah talk without getting tongue tied…"
It was perfectly true, but the interview had been even worse as Norman had already begun reducing his Triptocaine intake at that point, making his speech even more slurred and his body shake more out of withdrawal than actual nerves. Which wasn't to say he hadn't been nervous – talking about himself was one of Norman's least favorite things. Try as he did to avoid any interview after the Origami case, his superiors felt it would be good publicity to attend at least a few. The public was weary from all the deaths, and seeing a young "hero" share his story was just what they needed.
If it had been just a display of the facts, or a brief rundown on how he had solved it, things wouldn't have been too bad. He certainly had no problem in meetings or debriefs. But he couldn't exactly talk about the case entirely without discussing ARI, which was still in the experimental stages and thus hadn't been disclosed publically yet. The public didn't want to hear about it anyway – they wanted to learn about him. And they certainly had learned that the alleged hero of the Origami Killer case was a shy, slightly awkward young man...to say the least.
The reporter seemed to find his lack of public speaking skills hilarious as she doubled over on the table laughing. Bringing her hand to cover her mouth, Ethan spared her from having to speak.
"It wasn't that bad…It made you look more human?" Ethan suggested, trying yet failing to remove the smile from his face.
"…Y'ere too kind. Really," Norman replied dryly. More to spare himself from having to say more, Norman reached out to take another sip of water. As the glass made to his lips, however, his grip failed him as the beginning stages of withdrawal began. He managed to catch the glass from falling completely, yet not without spilling its contents all over his hands and lap. Ethan and Madison's smiles faded, a worried look replacing them instantaneously.
Shit, fuck, no…Not in front of these two…
"Are you all right…?"
"Shit, I'm sorry, Norman…We didn't mean to offend you, I shouldn't have brought it up..."
Their voices faded in and out of his head – he barely managed to catch half of what they said as their faces, too, turned into a blur.
No, no, no! Stay with it…
There was simply no way he could pass out in front of the two. He knew he could never escape having to go to the hospital after all they'd been through. God, if they found out about his drug addiction, they'd leave him in disgust…or worse, try to seek him help. The FBI would fire him for drawing attention to their drug – or (more likely, considering the publicity around him as of late) simply buy out their silence and cover the whole thing up. No matter what, he'd lose the closest thing he had in years to having friends…
"Dad!"
Shaun's voice slurred in Norman's ailing brain, bringing him slightly back into reality. What would Shaun think if he knew the man he considered his hero was a drug addict? He didn't deserve that, not after all he'd already been through…
"Look who I ran into!"
Norman raised his head to look at a blurred figure behind Shaun. Hiding his shaking hands under the table, he shook his head and squinted. Why did he look so familiar? He didn't know anyone in Pennsylvania…
"…Holdin'up okay, Mars?"
The figure's voice sounded oddly familiar too. Fucking tritpo, if he wasn't going through withdrawals he was sure he could place the name…
"Thanks to your boss, not really," came Ethan's reply, laced with amusement to show he wasn't angry.
"Why don't you take a seat? We were just about to order dessert and drinks," Madison offered. The lighting in the restaurant made it impossible to see anything except bright blurs now.
"Oh, uh…I don't…"
"Come on, Mr. Blake! I'm sure Mr. Jayden will be happy too!"
Carter Blake's form came into vision with clarity as he gave a start, stepping back with an expression of utter surprise as he met Norman's unfocused eyes. His mouth opened slightly in shock before twisting into a horrible grin. Norman felt his stomach drop out as the feelings of withdrawals fled, wishing desperately he could join them as the absolute last man in the entire world he wanted to see sat down across from him.
"Well, well…Agent Norman Jayden. What brings you back? Here for another…articulate interview?" The grin deepened mockingly as the lieutenant adjusted into a more comfortable position in the seat.
"Fu-uuuh…" Norman broke off the word with a cough, his eyes following Shaun back to his seat.
"…No, Lieutenant, Norman's here on our invitation," Madison chimed in, rescuing Norman from having to reply.
"…Of course." Blake replied loosely, taking a quick swing out of a beer bottle Norman only now noticed he had been carrying. He still felt completely out of it, his hands shaking with increased tremor under the table even while his vision cleared.
You think it'd be bad if Madison or Ethan saw you? What if this asshole did?
"I, um…If you'll excuse me for a second…I think I just need some fresh air," Norman explained lamely as he stood up a little too quickly. Madison and Ethan shared a slightly confused look before nodding. He tried to avoid looking at Blake entirely as he walked away, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket as he made his way to the back parking lot.
Norman immediately lamented his decision to go outside instead of going to restroom as the cold Philadelphian air bit at his exposed face. It did nothing to reduce his shaking, but he couldn't just walk back inside – he'd have to pass their table again on the way in.
Resigning himself to the cold, Norman sighed and leaned against the building. At least it wasn't raining, though it was late enough in the evening for the sun to have completely disappeared anyway. He absently wondered what the state would be like if he had come here during a warmer season – it might have even been pretty.
Ugh…Cold. Withdrawals. And fucking Carter Blake. Everything I missed about this damn state.
The small flick of a lighter being used followed by a wave of warm smoke made Norman lean off the wall that had been all but supporting his weakened state in order to look back at the restaurant's exit doors. He didn't see anyone…
Great. Maybe I'll get mugged too in this abandoned parking lot.
He turned with a sigh…and found himself face to face with Carter Blake once more, the beer in his hand hanging just as loosely as the cigarette dangling from his lips. They curved up slightly in amusement as Norman jumped back into the wall in surprise. For a moment the older man just looked at him huddled against the brick building silently.
"…What do you want?" Norman asked finally in annoyance.
Blake snorted slightly, taking a drag from his cigarette before glaring back at him with an exhale of smoke. "A quiet place to smoke. Contrary to what the media's been saying, not everything's about you, hotshot."
Norman met his irritated gaze with a stubborn one of his own. "Right, because that's my fault. I don't know if you noticed, Blake, but I don't exactly welcome the attention…"
This made the cop give a small snort of laughter, exhaling in small puffs as a result. "…I did, actually. And I thought your accent was annoying in person."
Norman's face heated up again in embarrassment as well as anger. "Fuck off, Blake."
Blake just gave him a lazy look in response before answering. "Uh huh…least there's no kids around this time. Nice influence."
"…Never had you painted as a guy that likes kids," he shot back. Blake chuckled, apparently not bothered to answer as he flicked his finger slightly to rid the cigarette of excess ash before taking another puff. He didn't sound particularly irritated, however– actually, Blake seemed rather…relaxed. It contrasted greatly with the man he had been acquainted with just weeks ago, even if he was still making comments at Norman's expense. It was curious, and Norman was never one to let curiosities fester.
"I didn't know you took Shaun to the hospital eithah…" he continued, fishing for a reply.
"Yeah, well, you didn't exactly stick around to find out, did you?" Far from sounding offended, Blake seemed quite relieved about this. The implication that Blake wasn't sorry to see him go far from offended Norman either. A simple shared glance assured them both that the feeling was understood as mutual.
Still, Norman was rather surprised the incompetent cop hadn't reacted to seeing him defensively, or at least with outward hostility. He figured the fact that he had been the one who was right all along would have hurt the man's pride at least a little. Perhaps it was just relief that the case was finally over, without regards to the 'how'?
Blake appeared to be lost in thought about something as well, scratching his face absentmindedly before throwing the dwindled cigarette to the ground and rubbing it out with a swipe of his shoe. His gaze lingered from the charred mark on the ground before raising it to meet Norman.
"…Gary got your call and passed the message immediately. Said you called for me personally. Why's it so surprising I took the kid?"
"I was more surprised that you kept visiting him, actually," Norman replied with a small smirk of his own, daring the officer to admit he had some sort of a soft side.
An annoyed glint shone from Blake's face before he responded with a grunt. "And I'm surprised you even bothered calling for me. You didn't bother to tell me about where Shaun was being held or who the Origami Killer was before you left without a god damn word. Knew I should've had you followed…"
That comment took him off guard for only a moment before the reply naturally flew from his lips. "Had me followed? Why didn't you just take the normal, rational route and…I don't know…fucking talked to me?"
"Like you did with your little lead on Mad Jack? How'd that work out for you, Jayden?"
Norman could practically feel his blood beginning to boil as his blood pressure hiked up. Carter had hit a nerve – the report Norman had left was certainly detailed…in the sense that he had admitted to the deranged lunatic dying in front of him after getting his pant leg stuck in machinery. The only detail he had left out was his loss of consciousness being triptocaine's fault instead of Jackson Neville himself.
"Hey, no shame in what you did, Norman. I'd have watched him die without lifting a finger too." Carter's tone was far too light, leading Norman to believe the man knew exactly what he was implying with that statement. The stress his words were causing happily joined the withdrawals in making Norman feel like absolute shit.
"That's not how it happened, Blake," he practically hissed, his teeth grinding together in vain to hold back far harsher comments.
"Yeah? Well, lemme replace "Jack" with "Shelby" and try that again," Blake smirked.
His vision was getting spotty once more as Blake's smug face flickered in and out of view. Doing his very best to stay conscious, Norman planted his feet firmer into the ground, staring daggers into the complete asshole in front of him.
"I'm sure you read it in the damn report, Blake. The first time he almost slipped into the grinder he begged for help up…and then he attacked me again. I tried to save him."
Blake gave him a long, calculating stare before slowly moving forward to get into his face. The blue in his eyes was far colder than anything Pennsylvania was capable of producing, and Norman knew instantly that in his next words, he was going in for the kill.
"Was that what you were trying to do with me when you shot Williams?"
And there it was – finally, the most raw, sensitive nerve that Blake knew exactly how to strike. The stress from media attention, pressure to quit ARI, the absence of triptocaine, withdrawals, and his musing from earlier about his own morals all seemed to crash down on Norman at once as he snapped once and for all. Without even considering the consequences of his actions, much less pausing to aim, Norman found himself panting as he doubled forward, a stinging pain shooting into his hand. It took him several seconds to realize he had just punched Carter Blake in the face for the second time in his life.
Blake, too, seemed to need a moment to process exactly what happened. He raised his head simultaneously with his hand as he brushed it against his face, wiping the blood that had begun streaming down his face from his nose. He stared at the blood dripping off his fingers for a moment before looking back at Norman. The horrible smile from earlier returned, full force.
"So…you wanna play, Norm?" the monster asked lightly. He paused before setting his beer against the wall. The movement was agonizingly slow, as if Blake had all the time in the world.
Tilting his head slightly, Blake took a few steps forward. Instinctively, Norman moved back. The realization at what he had just done made his head throb, his heart pounding just as harshly against his chest. Complete fear made Norman's throat tighten, rendering speech impossible. Unable to utter a word of apology, he watched rather helplessly as Blake approached.
…What the fuck did I ju-
Before the thought had a hope of being finished, Norman found himself flat on his ass. The whole world seemed to be spinning around him uncontrollably – Triptocaine was entirely incapable of throwing a sensation as overwhelming as this. It had to be some sort of divine miracle that Norman hadn't heaved up everything he had ever consumed when Blake's fist made contact with his stomach.
Between the tears of pain and his unfocused vision, he could just barely make out Blake walking back towards the restaurant. The smart thing to do was to just let him go; he knew a fight with Carter Blake held only one outcome, that he had absolutely no chance in beating the man in a fair fight. Especially in his weakened state as his body desperately tried to cleanse itself of drugs.
But right then, Norman didn't want to be smart. He didn't want to be the man that Shaun admired, that Ethan was grateful to, that Madison worried about, that the FBI relied on, that the American people loved. The only thing he wanted was to be free of all his expectations as he beat the everlasting shit out of the man that spat on all those labels.
Blake had only taken a couple steps before Norman threw all his weight into kicking the back of his knees out. He stumbled, falling over as Norman lunged forward and shoved him to the ground by his waist. With a snarl, Blake pulled his elbow back before driving it towards Norman's face. It just barely avoided making contact with his eye, smashing only slightly below it.
In the pain and confusion, Norman wasn't entirely sure how many of his blows were received and how many he took in turn. He was quite certain Blake was making contact far more, but at the very least he could say he got his fair share of strikes in. Eventually, however, he found himself on his stomach, face first into the concrete below as he felt Blake shift off of him and stumble away. Too weak to stand, Norman clenched his eyes shut and waited for the inevitable final blow that would finally take his consciousness away.
…Yet it never came. In its place was the unmistakable sound of Blake…laughing. Not the cruel chuckle or the sarcastic laugh he had heard earlier at his own expense, but a genuine, sincere laugh that confused the shit out of him.
He rolled over onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows just in time to see Blake returning with his beer in hand. Despite being dangerously close to drifting off, Norman's vision was actually steadily improving as Blake grinned down at him before half-falling down next to him. His face was quite the mess, blood steadily flowing from his nose and mixing with the same liquid dripping from a gash directly below his left eye.
"...Not bad, kid…Not bad." His voice was still rich with laughter as he took a swing of his beer before handing it to Norman. Unable to count the reasons for his bewilderment, Norman accepted the bottle and took a drink before returning it.
"…We shoulda done that sooner. Might've made the investigation go smoother, y'know?" Blake grinned.
Strangely, Norman found himself…agreeing to the cop's words with a nod. An unbelievable sense of calm was washing over him as his adrenaline levels went down. Somehow, he felt as if that fight had put into words the insecurities he had been feeling about his own methods as of late…while simultaneously helping him understand the insecurities plaguing Blake about him not solving the case.
Though he couldn't see how he himself faired after their skirmish, Norman was absolutely certain he looked a shitload worse than Blake. The blood was certainly flowing more freely from his own face onto his clothes. He winced as the red liquid clearly stood out against his jacket.
"…the fuck am I gonna tell them?" he asked with an unsteady grin of his own. Blake flashed him an amused look, his gaze browsing over his increasingly stained front to his bloodied face.
"Give me your wallet. We can tell them you got mugged." Without waiting for a reply, Blake set his drink down and practically attacked him again as he dug into his front pockets.
"Ow- Fuck you, Blake, you're not taking my damn wallet-" The cop ignored him, one hand steadily holding him back by his face as he slipped a small card into the wallet before throwing it back with a smirk.
Norman snatched it back with an annoyed look before opening it. Inside, he was surprised to find Blake's business card, his number and address neatly typed in the center under his name.
"You figure it out then, FBI. That's your job, isn't it?" Blake rose to his feet rather unsteadily, eyeing Norman for once from above before giving him one last smirk as he turned to walk away.
"Blake…" Yet Norman found himself completely without words as the enigma of a man turned to face him expectantly. Norman wasn't surprised he had no idea what to say – hell, he had no idea what to feel at this moment.
But that, Norman reminded himself, wasn't all that different than how he felt before the fight. He didn't use words then – he hadn't needed them to communicate his emotions, letting his fists doing the talking as Blake "replied" in the same form. Perhaps this was just another time where words were unnecessary to convey a mutual understanding.
"…I'll see you 'round," he finished, returning his smirk as Blake nodded, giving an absent wave without turning back.

What had followed was a mess, of course. He ended up going with the mugging story after all. Ethan and Madison hadn't bought it for a second, of course, but Shaun just seemed to gain more respect towards him. Thankfully, no one had pushed the subject.
Norman glanced down at the photograph once more, resolving that the next time they met up (which would be the next time he drove up to Pennsylvania for sure – Carter could wait, a little lesson of patience would do him some good) he'd tell them the truth of what actually happened that night. But not before accessing the FBI database for anything he could counter-blackmail Madison with.
As for Carter…well, their relationship was the epitome of communication without saying a word. The only thing that had changed from that point was the…form of communication.
Grinning slightly as a small blush overtook him again, Norman flipped the photo in his fingers once more so the text was visible.
No, Mr. Mars…Thank you.

A/N: Sorry for the complete lack of sex, but I wanted their "reunion" to feel natural and in character. And speaking of in character...I hope I didn't come across as someone who thinks Blake is a nice guy. He's not. But I don't think he's a complete monster either. He had to have wanted to save those kids, or I don't think he'd have acted how he did.
...And I also don't think Norman is a complete saint. This mostly steams from the fact that I picked all the "Aggressive" options my first playthrough, but Norman does canonicaly threaten to kill Mad Jack and does shove the bouncer at the Blue Lagoon. Poor guy. Drugs are bad, Norm :(
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