The Fallen - Prologue
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x fem!reader
Synopsis: Your sister went missing two years ago but because of her past no one is looking into it despite your insistence that she didn't run off. Enter rookie detective Bradley Bradshaw. For whatever reason he believes you. Only he realizes there is more than meets the eye with this case.
Warnings: True Crime centered so if it's not your cup of tea don't read. Mentions of addiction and prostitution.
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Three weeks. That’s how long it's been since you’ve seen or heard from your sister. A few days, sometimes even over a week was normal. But three weeks? Not even at the height of your sister’s addiction had she gone three weeks with no contact. Even if most of the contact revolved around her asking for money to get her next fix under the guise of needing food or clothes. You always knew she used it for drugs. And you hated giving her the money and essentially enabling her, but you did it in the hopes that maybe just once she would actually buy the food or the clothes. She never did.
As much as you hated the path your sister had gone down, you couldn’t exactly blame her. The things you’d both been through – were fucking awful. Drugs were your sister’s way of coping. You’d managed better. You went to college, you got a degree, you started therapy. Of course you felt bad that while your sister had been barely surviving, if you could even really call it that, you were on the other end of the survival spectrum. Starting to really thrive.
You did what you could to help her, though. Countless times you let her crash in your home, fed her, found a way to get her into rehab. Each time it never lasted. Except this last time.
There was a visible difference in Christine. She had started to put on weight, life was returning to eyes, she was smiling again. This time you really thought she was going to make it. Until she disappeared. Your heart sank when that first week passed, because you were sure you knew what it meant. It wasn’t until the beginning of the third week that you really had started to worry. So much so that you wound up at the police station.
“Listen, sweetheart, we all know your sister and she’s probably just on a bender.” You were on the verge of tears, both out of worry for Christine and frustration at the officer’s defiance. Yes, your sister had a troubled past. But this wasn’t like her. She didn’t just disappear like this, at least not for this long.
“I don’t care what her past is, this isn’t like her! You have to do something, please.” The cry for help felt weak, because you were exhausted. Running on minimal sleep because you’d been up for hours trying to find her. Every time you called her phone it went straight to voicemail. Leading you to believe it was either dead or shut off. Stupidly you had gone to her old stomping grounds, a palace you didn’t want to be but you didn’t know what else to do or where else to look. Unfortunately it hadn’t led to her.
You knew it wasn’t going to be easy to convince the police something was really wrong with her. How many times had you picked her up from this exact jail after she got busted for possession or prostitution? Everyone who worked here knew your sister and ultimately knew you. And each time you walked through the doors you were met with looks of pity. Looks you had grown tired of getting, but by this point were numb to. You’d gotten them your whole life, so much that at this point you just stopped wondering if they would ever stop.
“Please…I just-I know something is wrong.” The female officer looked at you, again with pity, but she relented.
“Alright,” she sighed and pulled out some papers from a drawer. “Fill out a missing person’s report and we’ll go from there.” You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in. With everything you had in you, you hoped nothing was wrong, but that sinking feeling was getting deeper and deeper.
No matter what, you weren’t going to give up until you found your sister. Dead or alive.
