A/N: Like I said, muse has season six and I own nothing. Could count as a missing-scene sort of thing for 'Haunted' if you care to look enough for it.
In Narcotics, the key was to be careful, and never let yourself get caught off guard.
He thinks of this as pain shoots through him, suddenly, and the voice of one of his old colleagues comes to mind, amused and serious at the same time.
You know, I could have been some dealer sneaking up into this squad room to shoot your ass, and you wouldn't have even noticed.
Ain't no dealer brave enough to walk on in here like they got nothing to hide.
The thought of this conversation from twenty-odd years ago makes him want to laugh, but he doesn't, because he can't.
He continues to think of this as he finally slides under.
There isn't anything else in this place where he's landed but some kind of light, and something else that he cannot place.
It isn't heaven and it isn't hell, so he knows that he isn't dead, but it is somewhere in between, and in between is the dangerous place.
You can't act like you're working for one side and you can't make it look like you're siding with the other.
So what the hell are you supposed to do? You're working for the department, but you're working for them.
You play the role and make them believe you're someone you're not. You make yourself believe.
It wasn't easy, but it wasn't hard.
And now that he's in this place, he wonders if maybe this sort of in between is as bad as the other one, because he can hear voices and see faces and when he looks hard enough, he can make out any number of cops sitting vigil.
The whole of the Narcotics squad's current lineup comes sliding in, followed by the Vice squad, and finally by Major Case.
You know, there's always gonna be a place here in Narcotics if you decide to come back.
Don't know if I will.
Sure you will. You never forget your first.
It's true, he thinks, while he stands there and looks down at them all, wishing that there was some way to tell them that he's not actually dead, but is instead barely hanging on, for now. You don't forget.
The problem with this is that sometimes, you want to.
There are two very distinct differences between Narcotics and SVU that hit him straight on when he transferred units.
The first is that Narcotics seems more like a family than SVU does, and the second is that at the end of the day, where the Narcotics lot kept tabs on each other because of the nature of their work, SVU does not.
No one ever wants to know what goes on in there.
Yeah, well, ain't nobody want to know what goes down in here, either.
That wasn't exactly true, Fin thinks now. People did want to know. It was just the fact that they couldn't ever say that put everyone off.
Life was complicated, but the Narcotics squad was a bitch. He's starting to think that SVU is even more of one.
If there is a way out of this place, he hasn't managed to find it yet, and he doesn't dare look down into the operating room where he knows he is, because he doesn't want to know.
So instead, he focuses on the waiting room, and on his current partner, once again wishing there was some way to let everyone know that he's not gone yet.
Munch, he knows, has seen too many people lost in Baltimore alone to want to see it happen again in New York, especially when he's already gone so long without having to see it all again.
They've both seen more than they needed to over their years in this line of work and the funny thing about it is that as disgusted as they are by some of it, for some reason, neither of them can turn around.
Therefore, he's lying on an operating table, and Munch is sitting with everyone else in a waiting room.
You ever wonder what it would feel like to die?
Why are you asking me that right now? Of all the times in the world, why now?
Because it's a possibility.
That was always the problem. Technically speaking, there is less of a chance of losing your life in SVU than there ever was in Narcotics.
Of course, there's always the off chance that something like this could happen, Fin thinks, wryly, and the off chance that you could die.
But he hasn't done that yet, and is pretty sure that he's not going to, either.
Then again, the other thing he learned in Narcotics was never to assume anything.
You couldn't assume that one person was going to do one thing, because usually when you did, it turned out they did the other thing. And you couldn't assume that you were going to be just fine, because odds were that if someone got the wrong idea, you wouldn't be.
Sometimes it was the other way around, though, and sometimes what you thought would happen was exactly what did happen.
Kind of like standing there in that corner store and assuming that those kids who walked in were going to cause some kind of trouble.
When they did, he hadn't been surprised.
But he hadn't exactly expected to get shot, either.
Kind of the point of being here, isn't it? You learn to expect the unexpected.
Only gonna get yourself shot if you don't.
That's not what I meant.
Then what did you mean?
But Angie Deakins had never answered that question because the phone had rung, and then they were off, and sitting vigil in this same exact hospital over someone else, someone that they had lost.
1998 had been one of those years of change that no one had expected, which only served to prove the Narcotics theory even further.
You had to learn to expect the unexpected, because if you didn't, you were screwed.
The last thing he sees before he regains consciousness in the recovery room is the looks of relief on everyone else's faces when they find out that he's not dead.
Suddenly, a conversation he had with Munch comes to mind.
…and we spend all this time trying to take these people off the streets, so they can't hurt anyone else, and all anyone has the time to do is turn around and put their damn guns on us. What the hell is that?
The people reacting to whatever they think the cops have done to them.
We haven't done a damn thing but try to protect them, and this is how they thank us?
No one ever said being a cop wasn't going to be a thankless job.
It's true, no one did.
It is thankless, but it's still worth it.
The second part of the conversation is more amusing than the first.
You ever think about dying?
Why should I? Been shot before and I'm still here, ain't I?
What, you think you're immortal or something?
Maybe.
In Narcotics, you have to believe that you're invincible because if you don't, you'll get nervous. You have to believe that you're immortal because if you don't, you'll get scared.
It is the same in SVU…but for different reasons.
After Cragen comes in and talks to him for a minute, there is Olivia. And then there is his son.
And then there is the entire Narcotics squad he used to run with, everyone from Angie to Bobby and Alex, all of them talking over each other and trying not to show how relieved they are that he's all right, even though he knows they are.
There is the usual poking at each other, and saying that they knew all along he wouldn't have done what he did in that corner store if he'd had a choice and screw the brass anyway.
It amuses him, greatly, but as it somewhat hurts to laugh, he tries not to.
It doesn't work.
After Narcotics wanders out, there is finally silence, but only for a moment, and then Munch is there, presumably to hang around for a while until he's summoned back to the squad room.
Fin watches him for a moment, not saying anything, and then, unable to resist, "Told ya I was immortal."
Munch rolls his eyes. "Shut the hell up, Fin. You are not. You're just lucky."
"Keep saying that, you're gonna jinx me."
"I am not. Now take this before anyone sees it."
There is another brief moment of silence after this, in which Fin takes the paper bag that Munch has, and neither man says anything, but somehow, it is all right.
It is in this moment that he knows even if he isn't immortal, it sure as hell feels that way right now.