Magnus would never say he was graceful, or even go to say that he was fairly competent in the area of balance. Needless to say, due to his lack of balance, often times he fell or simply stumbled, his long arms windmilling to keep his balance. That was the prime reason Wallander kept him at the office. The first time Magnus had gone out to a crime scene with Wallander, he had tripped over a rock, and slipped into a puddle of blood, and landed on the body, and ruined his favorite coat.
Magnus darted a glance up at the wall clock, only two more hours until his shift ended and he could go home for a much needed rest. He shifted slightly for a more comfortable position, and just as he relaxed, he wound up on the ground next to the chair. He swore under breath as he lept to his feet, darting a glance around the office hoping no one had seen his blunder.
Richardson, a cadet, was elbowing Mariah and telling her something with a grin, then they both turned towards Magnus, and began to giggle. Martinsson looked down at his desk, feeling his cheeks flush red, he rested his fingertips of his right hand on the desk, before turning around, grabbing his jacket and more or less fleeing the office.
As he thudded down the stairs, his toe caught the edge of a step, and he scrambled to keep his balance, and failed. He tumbled down the stairs, limbs flailing instinctively trying to protect his head and back. He shut his eyes tightly as his body bore the accidentally inflicted abuse.
Finally, after what seemed like ages, his body came to a halt at the foot of the stairs. He just laid there for a moment, winded and feeling the wetness of tears beginning to fill his eyes. He heard snorts of poorly concealed laughter as he stood up, feeling every single bruise and scrape he had just acquired.
He darted a glance around gauging everyone's reactions, one rookie called out, 'Maybe next time you'll leave us a mess to clean up!'
Magnus clenched his jaw, and quickly walked out of the police station, not caring that his shift had not ended, nor that he had left a half typed out report on his computer, that Wallander would never be able to figure out to get to. All that matter was that he had to get out of there.
As he walked through the town, pulling his coat collar up tight around his neck against the cold breeze. He pulled his phone out of his pocket as it began to ring, he glanced at caller ID and saw it was Kurt. He decided to ignore it, and slipped it back into his pocket. He just needed to be alone.
As Martinsson walked through the town, not really caring where he went, his mind wandered remembering various memories, all involving someone laughing at him, and him winding up physically and emotionally hurt.
He turned down an alley way, remembering all the countless failures he had done. He remembered one time, his family had gone on a trail ride on horses, for his sisters birthday, and the brown horse he had been riding, saw a plastic bag, and took off. Magnus had held on to the horses neck, not wanting to fall beneath the horses hooves. When suddenly the horse had suddenly pivoted on its hindquarters and reared. Needless to say Magnus fell off, and those moments when he saw the horse up above him about to crash down on him, were the most terrifying in his life, but when the horses hooves came to the ground, they didn't touch him, they landed next to him with a loud thud, and then the horse was gone.
When his parents and sister finally caught up to him on their horses, he was shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. His father told him to toughen up, his mother gave him a once over before declaring him fit to get back in the saddle, and when he had done all in his power to keep from mounting the horrid beast, his sister called him a wuss.
As he slinked along, he failed to notice a dark shadow following him.