Agree to Disagree
A/N: This story is set during/after the events of "Your Day is Coming", which admittedly I haven't seen since it premiered, so if any details are wrong, please bear with me. Hope you enjoy!
Gabby Dawson sighed as she and Matt Casey headed up to the front door. It had been a long, hellish day, her first day discharged from the hospital. Both of them felt dead on their feet and wanted nothing more than for the day to officially be over. More than that, both of them wished they could wake up in the morning and this would all be a bad dream, but they both knew that wasn't going to happen. The baby was gone. Now they had to pick up the pieces of what they'd thought their life was going to be.
"How're you feeling?" Matt asked.
He'd said the same thing practically every 10 minutes since they'd left the hospital. Outside of that, he wasn't sure what to say without crossing into eggshell territory. Neither of them said anything about the baby, both for their own reasons. Casey because he didn't want to upset Gabby anymore than she already was, and he suspected she didn't bring it up because she was still trying to take it all in and come to terms with the fact that she was no longer going to be a mother. He knew the tremendous loss he felt by what had happened, but couldn't even begin to imagine what it must be like for her.
"Fine," she distantly answered. That had been her go-to answer for the last couple hours. He knew she didn't mean it, and he also knew she wouldn't say otherwise until she felt like it.
Gabby took her key out and went to open the door. Before she did, Casey cupped his hand under her chin to force her to meet his eyes, and he told her with his whole heart, "We're going to get through this, Gabby."
She glumly nodded and replied, "I know." She turned away from him, opened the door and went in.
Casey stayed behind for a second and tried to wrap his head around what was going on. He honestly had no idea how they 'got through this', or 'moved on', or whatever the hell people called it when your child died and you just press on like nothing happened and resume life as usual. He also had no idea how to really be of any help to Gabby as she worked through her grief, other than to offer her his full attention and emotional support, he doubted even that would be enough, but it was all he could promise her.
"Matt!"
Gabby's voice from inside the house sent a wave of panic through Casey's body. She sounded...what, distressed? Shocked? He couldn't pinpoint it, and that's what scared him, because he'd never heard that tone in Gabby's voice before. Matt charged into the house to find out what was wrong, and as soon as he saw what it was, he froze in his tracks and could only look around the house in a stupor.
Roses. Carnations. Lilies. Hydrangeas. Peonies. Begonias. Geraniums. Everywhere Casey looked, there were vases upon vases of colorful bouquets of flowers of every size and color, on the TV stand, on the inn table in the corner, on the coffee table, on the dining room table. Matt couldn't even keep track how many bouquets there were, he lost count after ten.
"Matt, did you do this?" Gabby asked as she stood in the middle of the room, likewise looking around at the flowers in awe.
Casey shook his head. "No."
Gabby turned towards him with a wild look in her eyes as she said, "Well who could've let them in? We have the only keys."
Good question. On one hand, it wasn't a farfetched idea that some of the guys from Squad might've sent flowers, but Casey couldn't see any of them kicking the door open to let a florist in, and much as he trusted his crew with his life, he didn't trust any of them with a house key.
"What about Antonio?" Matt asked.
Gabby did something akin to a double take, followed by a roll of her eyes and a scoffing snort. "Antonio wouldn't know begonias from bedbugs. Besides, this has to cost more than he'd make in a whole month."
The next idea hit Casey so suddenly he snapped his fingers almost as soon as Gabby got the last word out. "Card, one of these has to have a card, there has to be something explaining it."
The two of them quickly set to work rifling through the petals and baby's breath and thorns of each bouquet as they looked for a card from whoever sent them. Casey picked up a cut crystal vase full of red carnations, and his mind flashed back many years to when he was a kid, and his mother explaining the historical significance of red carnations for Mother's Day, and Casey gripped the vase and about smashed it against the tabletop in a fit of rage. Somebody's idea of a sick joke.
"Found it!" Gabby called as she picked a small envelope out of the clutch of a plastic trident in a bouquet of daisies and lilacs and tore it in half to get to the card.
"Who sent them?" Casey asked.
Gabby unfolded the piece of paper that had been folded in quarters and read it. Her mouth rounded in an 'o' of discovery, then her bottom jaw dropped and her eyebrows shot up.
"What is it?" Casey asked as he went over to her and took the card from her, and read the message.
Deepest sympathies for your loss. Many thoughts and prayers to help you get through this difficult time. Don't ever ask 'why', because there's never a good enough answer. When your time comes again, don't look back with regret of what was lost, only take comfort in the second chance you're given.
Hank Voight
"Hank Voight sent these?" Casey asked, feeling even more dumbstruck now.
"But how?" Gabby asked. "The door was locked."
Casey's mind reeled back three years, felt like a lifetime anymore, another time and place, a loud authoritative knock on his door, two uniformed officers coming in.
"We have a warrant to search your house for cocaine."
"Hank Voight doesn't need a key," Matt responded as he felt gears in his head turning, and felt like his mind was shutting down except for a narrow path of tunnel vision running on autopilot.
Molly's was a little more crowded than on any given night, but Matt was able to spot the Intelligence detective seated at the bar, as soon as he set foot in the door. He didn't even recall leaving the house or coming down here, all of a sudden he was just there, and he wasn't leaving until he got what he came for. He marched over and saw Voight turn on his bar stool, a bottle of beer in his hand.
"I recognize that look. You come to kick my ass again?" Voight asked nonchalantly. "Let me get my jacket, we'll take it outside."
"We got your flowers," Casey said venomously.
"I know. Who do you think let the florists in?" Hank responded without missing a beat.
"Why did you do it?" Casey wanted to know.
"Why did I send flowers to a couple who just lost their baby?" Voight responded as he turned back to the bar. "Gee, I don't know, maybe because it was the right thing to do." He gestured to the empty stool next to him. "Sit down."
"I'm not staying," Casey told him.
"SIT!" Voight ordered in a voice that got the attention of several barflies in the nearest vicinity. After a few seconds, they all turned back to their own business and forgot about it. Against his own better judgment, Casey's butt found the stool and he sat down next to the Intelligence cop.
"Order a drink," Hank said, "I'm buying."
"No thanks."
"Either you order a drink or I'll order one for you, either way you're going to sit there and listen to what I have to say," Voight told him.
Casey huffed and told a passing waitress, "I'll have what he's having." She returned shortly with a bottle of beer that matched Voight's, but Matt didn't touch it.
"Maybe this isn't any of my business," Voight said, "but in light of what's happened, shouldn't you be home with your girlfriend instead of down here looking for a fight with me?" He turned to Casey and asked, "How is she doing?"
"She just lost her baby, how do you think?" Casey asked.
"I can guess," Hank said.
Casey looked towards the door and said, "I am not doing this."
"What?"
"I'm not having this conversation with the cop who tried to bribe and kill me," Casey said.
"I never tried to bribe you," Voight responded.
Casey looked back at him. "Oh no? What do you call donating a 6 foot plasma TV to the fire house the day after we meet?"
"My good deed for the decade," Voight answered. "I seem to recall somebody stuck a tacky cardboard sign out front saying 'television donations appreciated'. It didn't matter anyway, you returned it to sender. As for the other thing..." he shrugged, "Sorry about that."
Casey snorted. "That's it? You pay somebody $2,000 to whack me, and all you have to say is 'sorry'?"
"Hey," Voight pointed a warning finger at him, which for some reason suddenly quieted the lieutenant. The sergeant told him, "I deal with situations the best way I can, sometimes it's not enough, sometimes I'm wrong, and when I am, I apologize for it...usually."
Casey scoffed.
"So how is Gabby handling it?" Voight asked.
"She's not," Casey answered. "And if she is, hell if she'll let me in on it."
"That's to be expected, I know it's difficult, but don't push her on it," Hank told him.
"No offense, Voight," Casey said, "but you're really the last person I want to take advice from on anything."
Voight looked at Matt through the corner of his eyes. He took a swig of his beer and addressed the lieutenant, "I'm going to tell you something, and if you repeat a word of it to anybody, I'm going to hunt you down and kill you in your sleep."
Casey looked at him with slightly widened eyes and said, trying to maintain a deadpan tone, "You have my attention."
Voight turned on his stool to look at Casey directly, and told him, "My wife and I lost a daughter at birth, believe me, I know what you two are going through right now. We had Justin, but we just couldn't ever stop wondering, 'What if?'" He shook his head. "Didn't do any good, Justin was all we had."
"I'm sorry," Casey couldn't think of anything else to say. He'd had no idea.
Voight turned back to the bar and took another drink of his beer. "As you can imagine, it's not something I volunteer in conversation."
The gears were slowly starting to turn in Casey's head again and he thought of something.
"So when you were going to have me murdered because I wouldn't change my report?"
Voight seemed to ignore Casey's question, and said only, "I hope you two can move on from this, and I hope you have kids someday...and I hope you're lucky enough that you never have to face the possibility of one of them going to prison because they didn't only screw up their life but ruined their own and a whole other family's, because no matter what you did to bring them up right, it just wasn't enough."
Casey took a minute to let that sink in, and while he did, Voight threw in out of nowhere, "I know about your mother, Casey."
For a split second Matt felt shocked, but he quickly recovered and responded, "Yeah, everybody does."
"So I would think you could understand," Hank told him. "If there would've been something you could've done to keep her out of prison, you probably would've done it, wouldn't you?"
Not that Casey hadn't thought the same thing countless times over the years, but still...
"Not murder."
"Like I said," Voight said with a slight shrug of his shoulders, "I handle situations the best I can, sometimes I'm wrong...and when I am, I pay the price for them."
"And everybody else involved," Casey added.
Voight grunted and remarked, "We'll just have to agree to disagree."
"I guess that works," Casey picked up his bottle and clinked it against Voight's. "Gotta say, I'm glad we're where we are and not where we were 3 years ago."
"Never look back, you'll turn to salt," Voight said.
"Amen," Casey couldn't think of anything else to say, then finally took a drink.
"Hey," Voight told him. "Go home, go be with your girlfriend, she might not act like it, but she needs you now."
"Right," Matt stood up and put his jacket on. "On behalf of her, thanks for the flowers."
"And on behalf of you?" Voight asked.
Casey leaned in to Voight's ear and told him, "You ever break into my house again, I'll track you down and gut you like a fish."
Voight smirked and remarked, "I knew we'd see things eye to eye, just had to find some common ground. Hey. Either of you ever need anything, just let me know."
"And just why're you being so nice to me all of a sudden?" Matt asked.
Voight looked at him and answered, "Any guy that's got the balls to march into my home and kick my ass to protect his family, suicidal though it is, I gotta respect that."
Casey had no idea how to respond to that. Finally he told the sergeant, "Thanks...I think."
"Don't mention it," Hank said as he took another drink of his beer.
Gabby was waiting for him when he returned. She clearly didn't want to appear too overly concerned, she'd had the decency to be sitting on the couch, at least pretending she'd occupied her time while he was gone. But as soon as he entered the living room, she stood up.
"Well, what is it?" she asked.
Casey didn't say anything for a second. Then he shrugged his shoulders and answered, "Just Voight being Voight. Don't question it, don't ever try to understand it. Just his way of sending his condolences."
Gabby sat back down and looked like a weight had been taken off her shoulders.
"So, you good?" she asked.
"Yeah," he answered as he sat down beside her. "We discussed a few things. Gotta tell you, I'm glad we know now that he's on our side, because I sure as hell wouldn't want to tangle with him again."
Gabby laughed, "Oh you'd nail his ass and you know it."
"Before or after he shoots me?" Casey replied. He looked to her and asked, "So how're you doing?"
She sucked in a breath and said, "I wanted that baby, Matt."
"I know."
Gabby hung her head and told him, "I was already picking out names...clothes...daycare..."
"I know," Casey said as he pulled her to him. "Me too."
"But...you're right...we'll get through this," she said as she picked her head up again.
Casey wasn't sure why or how the thought popped into his head, but automatically he said to her, "Voight called you, didn't he?"
"After you left Molly's," she admitted. "He told me about...their daughter..." She shook her head. "I don't know, I think we're better off being able to move past this before we have another one, instead of having one at the same time you lose another, like they did."
"It'd be hard," Casey agreed, "hard as hell."
He tried to think about it all. Tried to put himself in Voight's shoes, first lose a child, then lose a wife, then threatened with losing your surviving child, trying to keep everything pulled together, hell, trying to keep yourself pulled together. Maybe it wasn't so surprising that Voight was the way he was. Casey held Gabby tighter against him and hoped he never had to find out what it was like to go through everything Hank had.