Dear Claire
Chapter 1
Author's Note: Law & Order and its characters are not mine.
So I haven't written a Jack and Claire story in a long time. But this just came out of me.
Set after Claire's untimely death, Jack finds a way to talk to her and find some measure of comfort and peace at the same time.
This is dedicated to my all-time favorite show and my all-time favorite character, Law & Order and Jack McCoy respectively. This is also dedicated to my original L&O ship, Jack and Claire. And to the actors who played them brilliantly – Sam Waterston and Jill Hennessy!
Abby (fadedelegance) - I hope you enjoy this one!
Thank you for reading!
Jack McCoy was angry. And unable to sleep. He had been tossing and turning for hours but sleep would not come.
It's been months since her death and yet every day it still hurt just as much. He missed her. He missed having her next to him in his bed. He missed waking up next to her. He missed making love to her. He missed her arms and legs wrapped around him. He missed her.
It had been a hard couple of days. Adam Schiff had finally forced him to get a second chair and to be honest, as much as he loved the man, it was the reason that he was angry right now. He didn't need a second chair….didn't want a second chair. At least not a new one. Because getting a new one meant that he was finally admitting that she was truly gone. That Claire wasn't coming back. And he hadn't been ready to do that. But Adam forced him.
Frustrated and sad, Jack finally got out of his solitary and lonely bed. He went to his kitchen, opened his cupboard and pulled out his bottle of Glenlivet. He poured himself a glass and then to sit on the couch in his living room.
He drained half the scotch before putting it down. Unseeingly, he stared blankly on his black TV. Then realizing that he was looking at nothing, he put his hands on his head, bowing.
For a few moments, Jack stayed in that position, his gaze boring through the floor. And then all of a sudden from the corner of his eye, he saw a pad of yellow paper on top of the side table. All at once he knew what he wanted to do.
He was going to write to Claire.
Quickly now, he got up and walked the couple of steps to the side table and grabbed the paper and the pen beside it. He then flipped the switch of the nearest lamp on, went back to the couch and took another sip of his scotch. As he felt the fiery liquid go down his throat, he leaned back, savoring it. He closed his eyes, picturing her in his mind momentarily. A minute later, he opened them and started to write.
Dear Claire,
Yesterday was a really hard day. Yesterday, Adam forced upon me a new second chair.
I guess she's okay. I've heard good things about her. I'm not sure if you ever met her. Her name is Jamie Ross. She's just going on six months at the DA's office. She used to be a defense attorney. Based on today, I know she's going to do well and she's going to challenge me. I guess that's something.
But she's not you. That's really what she has going against her. She's not you.
Oh Claire, I miss you. I miss you every day.
I keep thinking about that damn day. I keep thinking I shouldn't have made you go with me to that execution. Why did I force you? Why was it so important to me to have you there? Did I somehow know that witnessing it was going to make me miserable so I had to drag you with me because I wanted some company in my misery? After all they say misery loves company.
They also say hindsight is 20/20 Claire, but in this case the more I think about the why, the more I'm confused. I don't know why I acted the way I did. I don't know why I forced you. I only know that I wanted you to be there with me.
I saw Jamie arranging her things on her desk today. When I saw that I felt like I was being stabbed with a thousand needles. It hurt. I wanted to lash out at her. I wanted to shout at her and ask her what the hell she thought she was doing. I wanted to ask her what she was doing at YOUR desk.
And then I remembered. It was no longer your desk. Because you are gone. And you aren't coming back. Of course I couldn't lash out at her.
When she saw me as she paused to look up, she quickly left whatever it was she was doing and followed me to my office. And I'm sure you're wondering if I found her pretty. She is. But nothing compared to you, Claire. No one compares to you.
Once she was inside my office, she immediately began talking to me about the case we were handling. A man killed a woman with 4 kids because he wanted to steal her car. She thought it was a death penalty case. But for some reason I told her I didn't' think it was a death penalty case. Which made her mad. She was insistent and full of resolve to try it as a capital case. I'm sure wherever you are you're gasping in surprise. Jack McCoy not gunning for the death penalty? And I'm also sure you're probably saying too. " Well, Jack, you got what you wanted – a second chair with the same beliefs and convictions as you. "
But screw that, Claire. I'd rather have you. I'd rather us be arguing for the rest of our lives – debating the pros and cons of the death penalty – making up and fighting again, over and over – I'd be okay with that - more than okay actually if it meant having you here with me still, Claire. Because even though I never got to tell you – I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I'm sorry I never got to tell you Claire. I will regret that forever.
I don't even know why I'm writing this to you. You're gone. Maybe in my advancing years, let's face it, I'm not a young man anymore even though when you were with me and when you loved me you made me feel like I was in my 20s again – so maybe I'm getting sentimental.
Then again, maybe it's because I want to somehow still be able to speak to you like before - even if it's just written down on paper now and even though the conversation is only in my head.
Claire I don't want to forget you. I'm scared to forget you. I'm scared to forget how to love like I loved you. Like I love you still.
It's my fault that you're gone Claire. I know that. And yes it is. I can almost hear your voice right now. You're saying it's not. That you could have said no, that you didn't have to allow me to drag you to see that execution. Maybe that's true. Nevertheless without my prodding you wouldn't have been there. And we wouldn't have fought about the absoluteness of the death penalty again. You would have been in the office with me instead of not wanting to see me. I shouldn't have let you take the day off. If anything we should have taken the day together. After all we saw the execution together, we should have taken the day off together. But oh no, I wanted to prove that I was a tough son of a bitch and so I went to work. I thought I was doing the right thing by sending you home and covering for you. But the right thing would have been to send myself home to you. To be with the woman I loved. To grieve with her. To allow her to give me comfort. And most of all to give her the comfort she needed. But I didn't do that. And look what happened.
Claire I may not have practiced my faith for a long time. But I know that God is still there. And I can feel that you've forgiven me. And God has forgiven me. But I have not forgiven myself. I hope someday I can.
I'll end here for now, Claire. I hope you don't mind if from this point on I write you from time to time. I wish you'd come to me in a dream. I have so many what ifs when it comes to you. I wish I didn't. But I do.
I love you Claire. You may not be in my second chair anymore but you will always be in my heart.
I am yours, always,
Jack
Tears stung Jack's eyes as he finished his letter. For a minute he skimmed it forgetting that he couldn't send it. But the writing and the scotch had done their job. Finally, Jack felt the exhaustion settle and his eyes becoming tired.
He glanced at the clock. It was nearly 4 am. It was time to sleep. He had a full docket in a few hours.
He drained the rest of his scotch and then he tore the pages of his written letter from the pad.
Before going to bed, he passed by his study desk. He opened the middle drawer and there he saw the picture he could no longer display. It was a picture of the two of them. They were in formal wear attending a fundraising even for Adam Schiff. The two of them had just become a couple when it was taken but no one knew. And because of that they looked happy and mischievous.
Now it hurt him every time to look at that picture. So he had taken it out of its frame and put it inside the drawer he just opened. He traced Claire's face as he saw it again. Then with a sigh, he folded the letter he had just written and put it at the bottom of picture. Then with one more glance at it, he closed the drawer.
Feeling somewhat better but still very much sad, Jack finally went back to his bed. And as he gave in to tears, his final thought before sleep overcame him was that he hoped tomorrow was a better day.
Thoughts? Please review! Here or on twitter: LadyJ_817
I'd super appreciate it!
This will be a multi-chapter story – time period will span from Season 7 to Season 20.
Thank you again for reading!
