YouTube One-Shots (Book 3)

I'm Sorry I Wasn't There In Time

Tumblr prompt: Drugged in red dresses

Note: It's pretty angsty. I hope you enjoy it though!

Pairing: H2OWildcat

Tyler desperately did not want to get that call. He didn't want that call to tell him a certain thing, one that would ruin his life forever. That call told him that he was too late; that he was a failure to many people - his coworkers, his friends, his lover, his lover's family and friends - he couldn't bear the weight of that on his shoulders. Nor could he bear the weight of being alone for the rest of his life, which was bound to happen if he ever got that damned phone call. His whole world, gone. Completely devoid of life. A wasteland.

If he got that call, Tyler would admit, he deserved it for failing. He deserved every bit of it.

Tyler heard his phone ring. He saw the number, and knew it was all over. He knew this would be the last bit of his happiness, his hope, just fucking thrown out the window, worthless, useless. He answered the call, and slowly put it up to his ear.

"You found him."

There was silence on the other end. He knew the officer was getting his thoughts together to say this in the best way he could. But there was no "best way", and both of them knew it.

"Yeah," the officer said, swallowing thickly. "We did."

Tyler felt like crying. He wanted to sob, but he knew he had to keep his composure. "What happened? What's the scene look like?" His voice sounded broken, but he didn't care. He just had to know what happened.

"... He was found in a dumpster in an alleyway behind an abandoned building. Couple of kids were running around where they weren't supposed to. Saw an arm hanging out of a dumpster, and they called us. Body shows multiple signs that he tried to fight back. There's a mark on his neck, wrists and ankles that indicate he was tied up... He's also wearing a red dress, sir."

Tyler slammed his hand on the table he was sitting at. He let the tears roll down his face; no one was there anyways. "God fucking DAMMIT!" he screamed.

"S-sir?"

"What?" Tyler hoped there weren't any more bad news.

"I'm-I'm very sorry for your loss, sir. I'm so, so sorry. We'll catch that bastard, I promise you-"

Tyler ended the call. He couldn't bear to hear any more "encouraging words". It was all too late for him.

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Later that day Tyler was called into the autopsy room. Tyler didn't want to see what was under the white sheet that covered the body of his lover, but he knew he had to face it.

When the cover was finally lifted, Tyler felt like puking. He rushed to the garbage can, gagging and heaving, but nothing came out except for the tears in his eyes. The coroner rubbed his back soothingly, sympathetically.

When he got his composure back, they covered the body and gave him some of the test results. "... I know you're gonna hate hearing this, but... He was drugged, Ty. And you usually know what comes with being drugged."

Tyler felt like puking again. His baby, his sweetheart, drugged in a red dress. It all sounded like an episode from a drama cop show, but it was real. It was all real.

"But with the dress, we can trace it back to what store holds it and see security footage there to try and catch this fucker."

Tyler barely heard the coroner. He still felt sick to his stomach, and could barely wrap his head around the whole thing. He was a mess. He walked out halfway through what the coroner was saying. He had to get out of there. He had to leave, to go somewhere that wasn't so suffocating.

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The funeral was absolute hell. Tyler never wanted to see any of these people. He'd rather die than face them again.

The talk between him and others were small. Many people telling him "I'm sorry" and "You did your best", no one telling him what their eyes told him.

Not once did he speak to anyone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tyler stayed at the grave after the service. He was there until no one else was there, and much later. He held his tears back as much as he could before he couldn't and he cried and cried and cried.

"Jonathan, I'm so sorry," he sobbed, resting his head on the tombstone. "I tried so fucking hard to find you. I swear I did. But I just fucking couldn't." He wiped his eyes, although that did nothing. "I don't know where I went wrong, Jon. I'm just so fucking sorry that I didn't get to you in time. You didn't deserve a damn thing that happened to you. I swear I'm going to find that fucker if it's the last god damn thing I do." His crying had slowed down a bit. He wiped his eyes and kissed the tombstone. "I love you, Jonathan. Always have, always will." he sighed, "I'm gonna miss you, Jon. I'm gonna miss every fucking bit of you."

He finally got up. His whole body ached as he did.

He decided it was time to go home, although home wasn't really home anymore.