It was originally intended to be a courtesy call. Quinn had no idea it would devolve into a war.

It had been six weeks since Quinn had seen the man he loved, and that was too long. Even though the fear of Flynn's darker side remained, they couldn't work through that until Flynn came back. And Quinn wanted, more than anything, to work through it. He wanted the man he loved to be by his side again, no matter what he had done. When Quinn had said his vows at their wedding, he had meant them. He wanted to be by Flynn's side through everything, even this.

He had hired a private investigator to track Flynn down. Tristan and Quinn had met with the man who went by 'Igby' which, if Quinn was in a better mood he might have giggled at and made 'going down' jokes. Igby had said he would start where Flynn had last been for sure, which was in Whitehead. And while Quinn was angry at Flynn's parents for kicking his husband out again, he didn't want them to be surprised when Igby showed up on their doorstep.

Pauline and Angus O'Reilly had guns. It seemed best to warn them. He fully intended to warn his birth parents too.

Quinn dialled the phone while he was on his way to Deirdre's house to give her the details of the meeting, since she was the one paying for Igby to find Flynn. Someone picked up and then Quinn heard the surprisingly pleasant-sounding Pauline greet him. "He-Looooo!"

Quinn took a moment to marvel on how she could make a phone greeting sound like a statement instead of an invitation for someone to announce who they were, and he nearly tripped on an uneven part of the footpath. After righting himself, he said, "Pauline? It's Quinn." He felt wrong calling her her first name. When he was growing up, she had scared the shit out of him, and he had only ever referred to her as Mrs O'Reilly. If not, 'that bitch who almost ruined my life'. She was his mother-in-law now, however. He had to at least try to be on equal ground here, though shortly that latter moniker would resurface.

"Quinn?" Now she made it sound like a question. Pauline was a strange one. Who else would be calling her who happened to have the name 'Quinn'?

"Your son-in-law? Ardal? Quinn?" Quinn rolled his eyes and then he quickly darted across a street narrowly avoiding being run-over by a mini Cooper. "Fu- Ahem."

Pauline didn't even ask about his near outburst. "Yes...sorry, Quinn. I know. I'm just...a little surprised you're calling, that's all. Malachy isn't here."

"I know," Quinn said, working hard to make it sound less than accusatory, but mostly failing. "I was calling to give you a heads up. I hired a private investigator who goes by Igby. He's going to track Mal down and he wants to start in Whitehead. He'll be there tomorrow and he'll probably stop by."

"You hired a PI?"

Quinn blinked and, a block away from Deirdre's house, he paused in his onward ambulation. Did Pauline sound...shocked? Or was it worried? Surely not worried that Flynn would be found...

"I did," Quinn said firmly. "I'm worried about him and I miss him and I'm not leaving him out there by himself again." Emotion threatened to take over and Quinn balled up his empty hand and he sat down hard on someone's knee-high garden border. "He's been alone for so long, Mrs- Pauline. I can't do that to him." More than anything, Quinn had wanted to find his missing Flynn for the six years they were separated before. Now he had the means to do so. Or Deirdre did. He wasn't sitting by and letting another six years pass. Fuck that.

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone and then Pauline said softly, "Quinn, I'm sorry."

Assuming Pauline meant she was sorry for kicking Flynn out and while Quinn wanted her to feel pain for it, she sounded so absolutly guilt-ridden. Quinn was nothing if not an extremely compassionate man, and he couldn't just let her dangle there. "I know," he admitted. "Look, we'll find him and then you can tell him you made a mistake-"

"No," Pauline interrupted. "Quinn...I-"

Her stammering was starting to cause Quinn quite a lot of panic. Had something else happened to his husband that she hadn't told him!? "What?"

"You called once. He was in the house with me and I said he wasn't here."

Quinn closed his eyes at the pain he felt at knowing he could have at least spoken to his husband then. So many lost words he could have cherished now. "You already told me that, Pauline. I...it's not okay, but I understand he probably was too afraid to speak to me."

"I told him you signed the separation papers."

And now the silence was on Quinn's end while his tattered heart tried to find some kind of response to that. Quinn had flat out told Pauline he had torn the papers Flynn has sent him 'just in case' to pieces and thrown them away. She and told Flynn exactly the opposite and then kicked him out of their home again. She had sent him away from Quinn, thinking he was unloved and unwanted, and now he was lost to them and it was her fault.

"You WHAT?!" Quinn managed to squeak, jumping up so he could pace out his fury. "Why?!"

"I thought he would be better off-"

"Without me?! Fuck you!"

Quinn cut off the phone call and, after nearly hurling the phone to the ground in anger, but stopping at the last minute because he needed his phone, he shoved it into his pocket and he turned on his heel away from Deirdre's. If he told her this, he would be sending a hot-headed demon in Pauline and Angus' direction and he needed to calm himself down to a state where he didn't think that was a good idea.

Quickly, Quinn went over the options in his head of people he could go to. Tristan he had just seen. Adrina was so utterly sad. His poor Adrina. Eamon was helping her. Autumn would help, but it was too far to walk. And then he answer came to him.

Twenty minutes later, Quinn slammed through the door of his parents' house and the second he was inside, he shouted, "MUM!"

A worried looking and slightly dishevelled Maree bustled into the entry way from the kitchen. Her quite ample mid-section was covered with flour and she tried in vain to dust it all off her as she watched the young man who had become her son worriedly. These days she was always looking at him worriedly. "Quinn, darling?"

There, ring in front of his mother, Quinn stamped his foot, burst into tears, and he wailed, "Mal's Mum lied about me to him!" And then he ran and buried his face in his mother's neck while she hugged him.

"Oh my darling boy. What on Earth happened?"

"She- said- I-I-I wanted a div-divorce! Mal won't know I l-l-love him!" Quinn practically bawled. It was almost like he was saying someone had been mean to him on the playground, but here the stakes were so much higher.

Maree whisked Quinn inside and she sat him down. She let him cry on her for a half an hour and then they talked until night touched the sky. Bob returned home and the three of them ate dinner together, minus the home made bread Quinn had interrupted. Then Bob insisted that Quinn spend the night because he didn't want Quinn out walking by himself at night and Quinn was too weary to argue. He called Eamon and Adrina to let them know where he was, and then he returned to regale Bob with the story to, so he was caught up. Their conversation lasted until well past midnight, and though Quinn was exhausted by the time he went to bed, he was warm and full and loved.

And once again, like far too many nights before this, he was left hoping with all his powerless heart that the man he loved was as safe as he was and fearing that he was not.
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Darker London

October 2014

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