darker_london | Adrian White (Igby, Quinn)

Quinn darted into his Blackpool hotel room, phone in hand. He did a ninja jump over his suitcase, landing perfectly on the bed, before he lifted the phone back to his ear. "Sorry about that. What did you say?"

"This is Igby. The PI."

As if Quinn knew more than one Igby. "I figured. Did you find anything on Mal?" Quinn suddenly felt like his stomach had frozen in fear and his heart was racing with hope, both at the same time. I was unique and horrible, but not as horrible as the sinking feeling he experienced when Igby said, "no."

"Oh."

"It's not necessarily bad news," Igby informed Quinn, and Quinn wanted to punch him. How was no sign of his husband 'not bad news'? Flynn could be anywhere and anything could be happening to him and Quinn couldn't stop it and help Flynn if he didn't know where he was. But Igby was going to be the one who found him, so Quinn didn't scream or yell, he just clutched a handful of blanket hard so he could reply civilly.

"Oh?"

"It means he either walked somewhere, so we will keep close watch on Whitehead and Belfast, or he used a fake name, which we can track easily enough. I have the passenger lists for every flight, train, bus and boat that left Belfast or Whitehead that day. Can you think of any names he might have used?"

Quinn knew that Flynn had chosen a name that meant something to him when he changed his legal name eight years ago. Flynn had been his mother's maiden name. And Quinn was sure Igby would have looked up O'Reilly. There was another possibility though. "Ardal? Is there any Ardal?"

"Ardal? Funny name. Just a second, I have to be control f-ing."

The line went silent as Quinn was put on hold, luckily before he could say something about 'Igby' being weirder than 'Ardal'. Several moments later, Igby was back. "No Ardal."

Damn. Quinn frowned and then it dawned on him. "Oh god, I'm an idiot. Try Adrian."

Silence again, though somehow Quinn just knew that was it. Flynn had used Spectre's real name to disappear, just as Spectre had created a name for himself to disappear with. It was symbolic and it would mean something to Flynn because Spectre had saved Flynn, but 'Adrian' was an anagram of Adrina. Quinn knew Flynn would have no trouble getting fake ID. Hell, he could probably make fake ID.

"There are three Adrians," Igby informed Quinn when he came back to the phone.

"Surnames?"

"White, Van der Berg and Pegg."

Quinn bit his lip and then he said softly, "I'd start with Adrian White. My uhm...my best friend is Adrina Black, so...it's probably that Adrian."

"Adrian White is on the passenger list for the Belfast to Liverpool ferry. I'll check more passenger lists from there to see where he went after that. We'll find him."

And then Igby hung up and Quinn was left sitting in the middle of his bed, clutching a handful of blankets. He wanted Flynn now. Now. Sitting in a hotel room alone thinking of all the terrible things that could be happening to him...or the terrible things he might have to do to other people, it only made Quinn feel sick with worry.

Just as quickly as Quinn had run into his room, he ran out of it in search of his shoes. He needed to get out of the hotel. He was terrified enough that someone was going to sneak into his room and try to kill him like Frankie had. Hotels had become terrifying places. Quinn wanted a walk on the boardwalk. Hopefull someone else would too, so he wouldn't be alone.