Affliction
Thud.... Alex Eames winced in pain as she lay on the cold wooden floor. With her eyes still firmly shut she slid her hand under her hip, removing the high heel she had impaled herself on. She opened her eyes cautiously, the intense sunlight burned. Still, the piercing rings of the phone continued. Gingerly climbing back onto her bed, she scoured the lilac covers for the phone.
"Hello..?" Alex said grumpily. Curling herself up in her bed sheets, a subconscious attempt to not be removed.
"Eames.. You alright?" Bobby's voice was laced with concern.
"Yeah, why."
"Are you sick or just hung over?"
"Goren.hungover.. what?" Alex, one hand clutching the phone, the other holding her stinging hip, she shifted her gaze to the alarm clock, focusing hard on its vague image. "Its 5am, its Saturday morning, its sleeping time."
"Did I wake you?"
"Violently."
"I'm sorry. Can you come in? We have a suspect on the Wellings case in custody. I tried calling you but you last night but you weren't answering, I figured you were out till early"
"Friends birthday." She explained.
"Ok. See you in thirty minutes?"
"Ha, try again?" Alex quipped, resistant about the prospect of working today.
"Forty Five?"
"An hour, if you're lucky."
"An hour it is"
"Bye"
"Bye.. and Eames.."
"Yep"
"Thanks for this."
"Don't worry Goren, you owe me one."
With that, Alex replaced the phone and retreated to the shower, tripping over the other heel. They were conspiring to get her. It was the heaviness of her head that concerned her more though; her tiny frame wasn't made to cope with margaritas.
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Alex walked into the precinct, escaping the bitter cold of a late January day. Bobby sat opposite a girl; she could only see her thin back and cropped ebony hair. Bobby's eyes caught Alex's figure and in response he immediately picked up a coffee and walked over to greet her. He tried to hide an evident anguish with a warm smile. Handing her the cup, he directed Alex into an interrogation room with an arm laden with papers and folders.
Switching on the light Bobby immediately noticed the stress of Alex's eyes.
"You're squinting." he said, a smirk lighting up his face.
"Didn't notice." Alex replied. "So, who's the girl," she continued.
"Jessica Hall. The 36th picked her up in an alley last night covered in blood and disorientated. The hospital staff managed to get her name out of her and ran it through the system. She's the daughter the mother refused to keep." He continued, glancing at her through the window. "When she was 21 Mrs. Wellings dumped Jessica at the local supermarket at two days old, apparently distressed in a heroin dependency," His voice was bitter. "She's sick."
"Sick?" Alex voice was burdened with concern, but with strange lack of reason.
"She was just tested. The specialists seem to think Jessica's mental state just recently deteriorated. She had no past of mental disease. Her memory is a mess and she has lost her judgment. She doesn't know anything of her past and no control of her present."
"Dementia."
Bobby took a deep breath and nodded in agreement. "Maybe tertiary syphilis?" His voice was uneasy.
"But she seems young?"
"19. She went through several foster homes. If she was infected when she was young then.." He didn't finish. "15 years is long enough, I guess."
Alex glanced up at him, he sighed and proceed out the door.
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The grey walls of the interrogation room were cold and gloomy. He sat down. Easing deep into the chair. He leaned his head in one hand and looked at her. Jessica sat opposite him, picking at her torn fingernails, refusing with sheer will any comfort offered. She was tired, scared and hostile and he was certain she had done it; stabbed Mrs. Welllings three children to death. But she wasn't a murderer.
"Jessica," Bobby spoke with restrain. "When did you find out Julie Wellings was your mum?"
"I don't know." She did not look up, continuing to pick at her fingernails as if the routine was holding her together. Preventing him from cracking her.
"You did know," he paused, "that Carla Wellings was your mum?"
Jessica did not respond. She sat still, except for the nervous shiver that had overrun her body and the constant movement of her fingertips.
"Silence speaks a thousand words Jessica." Bobby said, rising from his chair to survey her. The sharp contrast of a small black mark on her white skin caught his attention. "What's that on your arm?"
"Nothing." She snapped in alarmed, instinctively hiding it with her sleeve.
Bobby leaned over and slid the fabric up her shaking wrist, revealing a blurry '12 harrode st' scribed in an inky pen. She was angry and violated, but did not resist.
"That your mothers address, that's how you remembered." He tried for Jessica attention, but she only studied her nails.
"We know your sick Jessica, but we have to know what happened to your siblings." Alex said gently.
"Half-siblings!" Jessica shouted, pronouncing each syllable coldly. Looking up at Alex with disgust.
Bobby bent his head into her line of view, trying to grasp the eye contact that would break her. "Is that why you killed them? Because they had what you were denied."
She screwed up her face in loathing before burying it in her hands.
Bobby retrieved out 3 photos from his folder. "These were your brothers, Jessica. Michael.. Alex.. and.. Daniel." Placing each image in front her head with force.
She quickly glanced at the faces and her tears began to swell. She closed her eyes and turned each photograph over. Then in defense she returned her head to her hands, shaking with ferocity.
"Did you want your mother to see you, Jessica? See that you weren't non- existent. Is that why you killed your brothers?" Bobby's voice was intensifying.
She shook her head furiously.
"Did you want to hurt her? Like she hurt you, like the others hurt you?"
She looked up biting her lower lip hard. Tears had flooded every crevice of her face. She was chocking on her emotions, "I don't know why, I just DID!" She ran her now bloody fingers through her dark hair and stared at her reflection in the steel table.
Bobby breathed deep in acknowledgment of her confession and turned his attention back to Alex, who's small figure stood at the door.
"Jessica, we will be back in a few minutes." Alex said, but Jessica made no response.
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The white-coated man walked through the door.
"The patient, Jessica Hall has acute Neurosyphilis. Her brain has deteriorated to such a point that no real treatment can prolong her life. Her brain is being eaten away and if she's not already, she will soon be completely mentally incapable." His expression was did not change.
Bobby rubbed his brow with his hand, "How long?"
"I give her 6 months with medication at best. She needed treatment long ago."
"Do we know around what age she contracted it?" Alex asked.
"Well, looking at the diseases progression, she was probably three when she was exposed to it. May I see her?"
"Go ahead." Alex answered. "3 years old. I wonder where the abuser is now."
She looked up Bobby. His hand at his stubbly chin, as he glanced with despondence at Jessica. Alex wasn't sure he had heard her. But his eyes returned back to her, shaking his head in frustration.
"Who knows?" he said, picking up his folder and sinking into a chair.
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Caver spoke with authority. "I've spoken to the Neurologist, Jessica's mentally unfit for trial and with her deteriorating health I find no reason to proceed. Is that alright with you?"
Alex nodded before glancing at Bobby who was staring blankly out the window. He seemed fixed on nothing yet pondering everything. Ron noticed it too, and sensing his presence was seemingly awkward, smiled a goodbye to Alex before leaving.
"We better head off too, Bobby?" Alex couldn't hide the concern in her voice.
"Yeah." he acknowledged, but with distance. "Do you need a ride home?"
"That would be nice." Alex strained to smile, at least he was listening she thought. He nodded in agreement.
As he helped her with her coat he murmured, "She never had a chance, Alex, that was decided that 19 years ago."
"I know." Alex said, turning to meet his face.
"Imagine, 4 people would still have their lives."
She could see the sadness in his eyes, she had seen it all before and it would be too soon before she saw it all again.
Alex gently touched his arm in a small attempt to comfort him, "Walk?" she suggested.
"May as well." Bobby replied.
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Well this is the end folkies, well at least until my brain has a stupendous brainwave or at the least skool holidays get extended. Thanks for reading, and even more so, managing to finish reading it. Much appreciated. I make apologies for the possible inaccuracies of the subject matter. I did a little research on the subject but didn't have any time to go into depth. PLZ, plz, plz review. This is my first fanfic and the truth is good too, so don't go easy. Thanks for the reviews everyone, so supportive & helpful!
Thud.... Alex Eames winced in pain as she lay on the cold wooden floor. With her eyes still firmly shut she slid her hand under her hip, removing the high heel she had impaled herself on. She opened her eyes cautiously, the intense sunlight burned. Still, the piercing rings of the phone continued. Gingerly climbing back onto her bed, she scoured the lilac covers for the phone.
"Hello..?" Alex said grumpily. Curling herself up in her bed sheets, a subconscious attempt to not be removed.
"Eames.. You alright?" Bobby's voice was laced with concern.
"Yeah, why."
"Are you sick or just hung over?"
"Goren.hungover.. what?" Alex, one hand clutching the phone, the other holding her stinging hip, she shifted her gaze to the alarm clock, focusing hard on its vague image. "Its 5am, its Saturday morning, its sleeping time."
"Did I wake you?"
"Violently."
"I'm sorry. Can you come in? We have a suspect on the Wellings case in custody. I tried calling you but you last night but you weren't answering, I figured you were out till early"
"Friends birthday." She explained.
"Ok. See you in thirty minutes?"
"Ha, try again?" Alex quipped, resistant about the prospect of working today.
"Forty Five?"
"An hour, if you're lucky."
"An hour it is"
"Bye"
"Bye.. and Eames.."
"Yep"
"Thanks for this."
"Don't worry Goren, you owe me one."
With that, Alex replaced the phone and retreated to the shower, tripping over the other heel. They were conspiring to get her. It was the heaviness of her head that concerned her more though; her tiny frame wasn't made to cope with margaritas.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Alex walked into the precinct, escaping the bitter cold of a late January day. Bobby sat opposite a girl; she could only see her thin back and cropped ebony hair. Bobby's eyes caught Alex's figure and in response he immediately picked up a coffee and walked over to greet her. He tried to hide an evident anguish with a warm smile. Handing her the cup, he directed Alex into an interrogation room with an arm laden with papers and folders.
Switching on the light Bobby immediately noticed the stress of Alex's eyes.
"You're squinting." he said, a smirk lighting up his face.
"Didn't notice." Alex replied. "So, who's the girl," she continued.
"Jessica Hall. The 36th picked her up in an alley last night covered in blood and disorientated. The hospital staff managed to get her name out of her and ran it through the system. She's the daughter the mother refused to keep." He continued, glancing at her through the window. "When she was 21 Mrs. Wellings dumped Jessica at the local supermarket at two days old, apparently distressed in a heroin dependency," His voice was bitter. "She's sick."
"Sick?" Alex voice was burdened with concern, but with strange lack of reason.
"She was just tested. The specialists seem to think Jessica's mental state just recently deteriorated. She had no past of mental disease. Her memory is a mess and she has lost her judgment. She doesn't know anything of her past and no control of her present."
"Dementia."
Bobby took a deep breath and nodded in agreement. "Maybe tertiary syphilis?" His voice was uneasy.
"But she seems young?"
"19. She went through several foster homes. If she was infected when she was young then.." He didn't finish. "15 years is long enough, I guess."
Alex glanced up at him, he sighed and proceed out the door.
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The grey walls of the interrogation room were cold and gloomy. He sat down. Easing deep into the chair. He leaned his head in one hand and looked at her. Jessica sat opposite him, picking at her torn fingernails, refusing with sheer will any comfort offered. She was tired, scared and hostile and he was certain she had done it; stabbed Mrs. Welllings three children to death. But she wasn't a murderer.
"Jessica," Bobby spoke with restrain. "When did you find out Julie Wellings was your mum?"
"I don't know." She did not look up, continuing to pick at her fingernails as if the routine was holding her together. Preventing him from cracking her.
"You did know," he paused, "that Carla Wellings was your mum?"
Jessica did not respond. She sat still, except for the nervous shiver that had overrun her body and the constant movement of her fingertips.
"Silence speaks a thousand words Jessica." Bobby said, rising from his chair to survey her. The sharp contrast of a small black mark on her white skin caught his attention. "What's that on your arm?"
"Nothing." She snapped in alarmed, instinctively hiding it with her sleeve.
Bobby leaned over and slid the fabric up her shaking wrist, revealing a blurry '12 harrode st' scribed in an inky pen. She was angry and violated, but did not resist.
"That your mothers address, that's how you remembered." He tried for Jessica attention, but she only studied her nails.
"We know your sick Jessica, but we have to know what happened to your siblings." Alex said gently.
"Half-siblings!" Jessica shouted, pronouncing each syllable coldly. Looking up at Alex with disgust.
Bobby bent his head into her line of view, trying to grasp the eye contact that would break her. "Is that why you killed them? Because they had what you were denied."
She screwed up her face in loathing before burying it in her hands.
Bobby retrieved out 3 photos from his folder. "These were your brothers, Jessica. Michael.. Alex.. and.. Daniel." Placing each image in front her head with force.
She quickly glanced at the faces and her tears began to swell. She closed her eyes and turned each photograph over. Then in defense she returned her head to her hands, shaking with ferocity.
"Did you want your mother to see you, Jessica? See that you weren't non- existent. Is that why you killed your brothers?" Bobby's voice was intensifying.
She shook her head furiously.
"Did you want to hurt her? Like she hurt you, like the others hurt you?"
She looked up biting her lower lip hard. Tears had flooded every crevice of her face. She was chocking on her emotions, "I don't know why, I just DID!" She ran her now bloody fingers through her dark hair and stared at her reflection in the steel table.
Bobby breathed deep in acknowledgment of her confession and turned his attention back to Alex, who's small figure stood at the door.
"Jessica, we will be back in a few minutes." Alex said, but Jessica made no response.
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The white-coated man walked through the door.
"The patient, Jessica Hall has acute Neurosyphilis. Her brain has deteriorated to such a point that no real treatment can prolong her life. Her brain is being eaten away and if she's not already, she will soon be completely mentally incapable." His expression was did not change.
Bobby rubbed his brow with his hand, "How long?"
"I give her 6 months with medication at best. She needed treatment long ago."
"Do we know around what age she contracted it?" Alex asked.
"Well, looking at the diseases progression, she was probably three when she was exposed to it. May I see her?"
"Go ahead." Alex answered. "3 years old. I wonder where the abuser is now."
She looked up Bobby. His hand at his stubbly chin, as he glanced with despondence at Jessica. Alex wasn't sure he had heard her. But his eyes returned back to her, shaking his head in frustration.
"Who knows?" he said, picking up his folder and sinking into a chair.
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Caver spoke with authority. "I've spoken to the Neurologist, Jessica's mentally unfit for trial and with her deteriorating health I find no reason to proceed. Is that alright with you?"
Alex nodded before glancing at Bobby who was staring blankly out the window. He seemed fixed on nothing yet pondering everything. Ron noticed it too, and sensing his presence was seemingly awkward, smiled a goodbye to Alex before leaving.
"We better head off too, Bobby?" Alex couldn't hide the concern in her voice.
"Yeah." he acknowledged, but with distance. "Do you need a ride home?"
"That would be nice." Alex strained to smile, at least he was listening she thought. He nodded in agreement.
As he helped her with her coat he murmured, "She never had a chance, Alex, that was decided that 19 years ago."
"I know." Alex said, turning to meet his face.
"Imagine, 4 people would still have their lives."
She could see the sadness in his eyes, she had seen it all before and it would be too soon before she saw it all again.
Alex gently touched his arm in a small attempt to comfort him, "Walk?" she suggested.
"May as well." Bobby replied.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Well this is the end folkies, well at least until my brain has a stupendous brainwave or at the least skool holidays get extended. Thanks for reading, and even more so, managing to finish reading it. Much appreciated. I make apologies for the possible inaccuracies of the subject matter. I did a little research on the subject but didn't have any time to go into depth. PLZ, plz, plz review. This is my first fanfic and the truth is good too, so don't go easy. Thanks for the reviews everyone, so supportive & helpful!
