Not Quite Dead, Yet


delia_icon.gif ryans2_icon.gif

Scene Title Not Quite Dead, Yet
Synopsis Ryans pulls out an old box of photos from his old days in the Company, so that his daughter can identify a mysterious man at the scene of a recent killing.
Date April 27, 2010

Lucille's Apartment

It was barely daylight when Ryans headed out to the house, his mission to retrieve the box of photos up in his closet. The memories of happier times and when he had worked at a 'Paper' company. How hard they had all worked to keep that secret quiet and still raise their families.

The box sat stoically on the passengers seat as Ryans drove back into the city, just knowing that whoever that mysterious man was, possibly sat in that box made it tough to drive cautiously. He needed to know, but he also didn't need the spin out.

So by time he arrived at Lucille's again and was let inside, it was early afternoon. Settling on the couch, Ryans reaches over to where the box sits on the coffee table and slowly removes the lid. "Hopefully, we'll find him in this box." If not, he'd have to go through Martin to get a line up. Though this was easier to explain to her. So he lets the lie drop from his lips, "I dont' see a lot of the people I worked with, so it would be nice to see who it was, maybe I can find him once I know who."

Even though she had been expecting her father's visit, life had to continue as normal. This meant classes in the morning and by the time he showed up, her homework was already laid out all over the kitchen table and she was working on a paper that was due the next week. She doesn't quit her focus on the paper until Benjamin is settled on the sofa with the box.

Moving over to sit beside him, she peeks into the familiar box and reaches inside to grab the first stack of photos. "He had long black hair, and a beard… But he might not have had that when he was working with you. You know, because he's homeless and stuff."

Flipping through the first few, she pauses every once in a while. Her brow furrows in concentration as she scans the various faces, always smoothing when she spies the happy faces of her family. "He had an accent too… Like he wasn't from the United States."

"More then likely not." Ryans states softly, pulling out various photos frames. Some are set asides on the other side of him, after he studies them for a moment. "However, knowing the man had an accent allows me to weed out."

"How are you doing today?" Comes the question after a moment of silence, another photo set aside, "I know yesterday was…" Ryans doesn't finish that sentence, not sure how to describe it. A soft sigh escapes him. Both of his girls had something happen to them now… they were getting drug into his world. The one he's kept secret for almost thirty years.

"Getting back to normal helps, routine and stuff… Keeps my mind off." Delia swallows and tries to wipe the sour look off her face. "Off the smell. I can't get rid of the smell. I had to borrow some of Lulu's clothes because I threw the stuff I was wearing away last night." Looking over to the front entryway, she purses her lips into a sad frown. Her big comfortable moon boots are indeed missing.

"Henry was nice," she says, changing the subject. "Cute too." She looks up at her father with a small smile then tries to hide it as she glances back down to her stack of photos. "I was thinking that we should introduce him to Lulu, they might hit it off and keep her away from those bar people she meets."

"No." Ryans says firmly as a few more pictures are set aside. "I'd rather keep you all away from the people I work with." It's not really the life he wants for either of them, even if their mother endured it. Mary was a special woman.

"And the smell is gone, but the memory of it will stick with you." A photo is handed over, when she looks at it, she'll find it isn't the man. Ryans says softly, "That happens with horrible experiences."

"That's not really fair, Dad, he seemed pretty nice. A lot nicer than the guy she brought home the other night, what a creeper he was." Not that there actually was someone brought home, but there could have been and aside from that, the younger agent did seem like the kind of guy that would keep her older sister out of trouble.

Taking the photo from Ben's hand, Delia stares at it for a few minutes before she finally shakes her head and passes it back. "Rounder face, dark brown eyes, like he was from Vietnam or something. But not Chinese… I don't think." She flips through a few more of hers before putting the stack aside and reaching for more inside the box.

He takes out another frame, this one he really looks at, his face falling into sadness. Ryans brushes a hand over it, removing some of the dust that has collected over it. It's a happy scene.

Mary holding a brand new baby in her arms, a woman looking at the baby. Ryans remembers that day. The day they showed off their youngest at one of the family parties. Ryans himself stands next to Mary, saying something to an oriental man, both are smiling. The older man never smiles like that on a normal day. A young Lucille clings to her daddy's leg, looking at a young teenage girl, same foreign nationality of her parents, who is staring at the camera.

The oriental man… that would catch Delia's attention. He's in a suit, hair and face clean cut, but it is the homeless man. Ryans frowns at the picture and moves to set it aside.

As the picture passes her line of sight, Delia takes a quick glance at it. "Hey!" She exclaims, grabbing it up, she focuses in on the little bundle in Mary's arms and smiles over at her dad. "That's me, isn't it? I can totally tell by the red hair." She's smiling up at him and then she leans over to nudge against his side.

She doesn't put the picture down quite yet, wanting to share the memory with her father a bit before setting it aside for another year or five. She looks at her own family for the longest time before her blue eyes drift over to the other people in the photograph. "Dad," she straightens up, holding the picture toward him again. "Dad, that's thim, I know it, that's him…"

Brows crease as she holds the photo out to him, Ryans eyes drop to the photo again as he rumbles out a, "That is impossible." He states simply, taking it back. "Everyone in that family is dead." Though he eyes the picture with a small frown. "The parents killed in Midtown… the little girl was murdered recently in the store she inherited from her folks."

However, despite his words Ryans sets the photo on the coffee table, before moving to pull more pictures out to start flipping through them. "There are a lot of people in this box that have died… in midtown or otherwise."

"M-maybe you're right…" Delia concedes, her shoulders drop and she reaches for another batch of pictures. Her eyes keep moving toward the man's face in that photograph though, then she looks toward the little girl. "How long ago was she murdered? How?"

Flipping through the photographs again, she comes across yet another of her father with the same man, this time from a different angle. They're dressed differently, much more casually. It's a summerscape and the company seemed to be holding a family picnic. The girls in the background are running around, this time the baby that was in Mary's arms is trying to keep up with the brunette just ahead of her.

Holding it right in front of her fathers face, Delia gives him her most serious face and pointed look. "That's him, really Daddy, it's him, swear to God."

"She was stabbed." It's supplied reluctantly by the Senior Agent. He offers a stack of some of the other oriental men that were in the Company's service, only to have a picnic photo stuck in front of his face. Eyeing the man the photo, Ryans lips press into a thin line. It was impossible…

The photo is snatches away and the old man stands quickly. "I need to go Delia." He turns back towards her, but his eyes are on the photo in his hands. "I don't think this is him, but I need to go to work and do some checking." His head nods to the box on the table. "Go through all of those, just in case."

His coat is grabbed up and he starts shrugging into it. If his daughter is right, then they have their man, but why… why would he want everyone dead.

"Stabbed, that's… That's so sad…" Delia says as she lowers the photo, right before it's snatched out of her hand. There's a flicker in her eyes as he stands up to go and she stands with him. The box is eyed with an expression of sadness but she nods. "I'll go through it — After I get my essay done? Or at least started?"

The importance of Ryans' mission is lost on her. To Delia, they are simply trying to track down a homeless man that used to work with her father. A good deed. "I'll do it tonight, I promise. I can't work anymore anyway, not until I get new scrubs and things." She shrugs and turns toward the table playing host to her multitude of homework. With a giant sigh of frustration, she stalks toward the table and picks up one of her sheets of paper. "See you soon?"

She doesn't know and, in truth, Ryans can't let her know. "That is fine." He concedes with a small nod. To her he is just trying to connect with an old friend.

Already half way to the door, Ryans stops and moves back to his red headed daughter, bending down to plant a fatherly kiss on the top of her head, hand brushing over her hair briefly. "Soon." He promises softly, before heading to the door again.

He only pauses once more to give her one of those rare smiles before stepping out of the door, shutting his slowly behind him. Only once it clicks does he pull out the photo again, along with his cellphone. There is an urgency to his stride as he starts down the long hallway, fingers seeking out a phone number.

The phone is brought up to his ear, as he approaches the elevator. When the other end picks up, Ryans tone is all business. "Crowley. I have a possible ID on the man that talked to Delia." The hand holding the photo, punches at the down arrow. "The thing is… we thought he was dead." Turning he glances down the hallway, back to his daughter's apartment. "She identified Akado Ichihara from photos I had."

The doors of the elevator slide open and the Senior Agent steps in, hitting the proper button, he looks distracted by whatever is being said on the other end. "I'm on my way out to you right now."

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