Disclaimer: None of the regular characters belong to the author, borrowing from the World of Wolf. The original characters are of my creation, not intending to resemble known folks living or dead.
Summary: A serious 'what-if' inspired from the events of the Season 14 opener – "Bodies" and borrowing/blending later and earlier episodes while taking some definite 'detours' of the canon LO universe.
Nightmares and Knots
Chapter 1 – Discovery
"We've a body over here!"
The emergency worker crawled into the hole in the wall of the old warehouse building and pulled on the arms tied around an oxygen tank. The soaked body was lighter than the rescuer thought as he wrapped his arm around the body's waist. In the daylight, he looked down at the matted hair and filthy beard that surrounded the mask providing breathable air during the fire in the neighboring building now a rumble of debris.
Slowly pulling the mask off, revealing the only clean part of the other man's pale face, the rescuer said, "It's all right buddy. You're going to be all right."
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Detective Joe Fontana let out a low whistle as he recalled the day they were called to go to the arson site. Hard to believe, he told himself, that it was only a couple of days ago, initial impressions settled to a homeless person's barrel fire getting out of control. The building was an abandoned warehouse neglected and ignored like the rest of the neighborhood. But once, it was teaming with life and business, long ago, when he was younger.
He glanced up at Nina Cassady, his partner, who was muttering something under her breath and wondered how she would fair with her first mass murder.
She was easily half his age and with less experience on the job to go with. The kid, and that was exactly what she was, lucked out in a transfer to the 2-7 the same time he did. It was his poor luck that brought her to him as a partner. At least there hadn't been many homicides to work with so far, he reminded himself.
"We take the cases given to us," he said, as if she should have had that figured out by now. "I told you that something will turn up that will tell you why we got this-." He handed her the fire marshal's report he had been reading and watched her reaction. Maybe now she'd understand the challenges that came with working in Homicide, learn the fine balance of reaction and taking action. Her expressionless face was not what he hoped for.
Fontana sighed. Careful of setting high expectations, he told himself. The kid still hadn't recovered from the first homicide she worked on - an unsolved case yet - and that was over a year ago. Gut feeling told Joe that this would be much, much worse.
"Oh my-," Cassady said softly before covering her mouth with her hand.
Fontana forced himself focus on the figures lying among the ruins, images burned into his memory as he imagined the firefighters carefully removing what debris they could.
Joe would have guessed there were at least half a dozen bodies there, but given the unseen, he dared speculate the true number to be higher.
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A woman in her mid-50's barged towards the nurse's desk. "Where is he? John, the man you brought from that fire scene, where is he?"
The nurse looked up, marginally registering the woman, whose face was clearly older than the rest of her, despite the pathetic make-up. "Can you be more specific?"
"Him!" She shoved a photo of the man in front of the nurse's face. "John! Not some John Doe, but my brother John!"
The nurse pulled the glasses down over her eyes and studied it. Not an exact match, this clearly a cleaner version of the bum brought in. "John Doe is in room-." No sooner had the nurse finished the room number, the woman was down the hall almost instantly.
"Tramp," the nurse muttered under her breath as she set aside a collection of requests, one of them given by the new intern who was too eager to complete unnecessary tests. It was going to be one of those days.
----
Wendy Douglas let out the breath she hadn't realized she had held during her rush down the hall. He looked terrible, but at least he was alive. She felt the urgent need to hold his burned hands and massage the rope burns on his wrists.
"You can," the young woman said, as if reading her thoughts. "It's amazing, isn't it? I mean, they say so many bodies were found in that place, and here was John, found hidden."
Wendy nodded, frowning at the tubes attached to John. "Have you run tests on him? What was the damage-?"
The young woman shook her head. "Mr. Doe doesn't have insurance and the head nurse only permitted the major checks for hyperthermia and such. I snuck one in, but the hospital's going to let him go sometime today or tomorrow."
"He's coming home with me," Wendy said.
"This isn't like the pound or anything, ma'am."
Wendy bit her tongue as many unkind thoughts ran through her mind. It wasn't this girl's fault and it wouldn't be fair to target the kid with such anger. Instead, she said, "He's my brother and I'm taking him home."
The girl's shoulder's relaxed some. "Oh, that is wonderful! Most John Does aren't identified or spoken for in such a short time." She adjusted the pillow and blanket to make John comfortable, not that Wendy thought he'd notice. "It's…it's like a miracle."
"You have no idea," Wendy said, brushing back a lock of John's hair. "You've no idea."
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Detective Ed Green put one hand on his hip as he leaned forward, silently counting to fifty in all of the languages he knew as the other hand pressed against his forehead in a futile attempt to prevent the inevitable headache coming on. He knew managed health care didn't treat 'poor' people well, but their treatment of the homeless was even more inhumane.
One of the firefighters had called to inform him of a body found at the scene Ms. Douglas had told them about not long ago – alive. Initial reports put the body count at twenty or so. Part of Ed prayed that his worst fear wasn't reality, in that the person he sought would be found among them. The page he received sparked hope if even for only a moment.
Then he had to come to the 'hospital of lost persons.' The receptionist at the desk was as helpful as a politician in his opinion. Ask for any recent 'John Does', the reply was silence. Not even the badge brought out an answer. He finally stopped a young intern passing. "Maybe you can help me," he said.
That brought the receptionist out of her frozen state. "She doesn't know anything."
Green held back the replies racing through his mind, turning his attention back to the young woman whose arm he touched. He asked, "Have any John Does come through here recently?"
"Quite a few in the past couple of days, yes."
Ed felt his heart pound in his chest. "Any of them suffering smoke inhalation or burns?"
She nodded slowly, apprehension in her face.
Too soon to hope for good news, he told himself. He took out the photo he carried in his coat pocket. "How about this gentleman here?"
She studied the photograph for quite some time. Then, her face broke into a smile. "Gee, John's quite popular." Just as quickly as the smile appeared, a frown fell. "He's gone."
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Mike Logan looked up from his desk. "Where have you been?"
"Hell and back," Green said as he tossed a few things on the desk.
"Maybe one of these messages will help," he said, handing him a collection of pink slips. "I think you have an eager date awaiting you."
Green paged through the slips, most of them from the same person. "She calling back?"
Logan raised his eyebrows. "I didn't realize you were that desperate. I tried to get her number-."
"Doesn't have one," Green said. "Damn. Maybe that's…"
The phone rang on Logan's desk. He answered, looking at his partner. "He's right here." To Green, he mouthed, 'Mystery Woman.'
Logan watched Green throughout the entire conversation. Once the call ended, the older man pounced. "Details, partner. What's going on?"
"Remember that case? The one I've-?"
"Your obsession project?" Green shot him a look that didn't faze Logan in the least. "What about it?" Logan was reluctant to admit that signing back on at the 27th Precinct about the time of the disappearance wasn't probably the best thing, but he knew how hard it hit some around him. Most folks, himself included, gave the man up for dead long ago.
"He was found. Days ago, actually. At the scene."
Logan shook his head. He had gotten used to Green speaking in such short sentences, even if it ticked him off. 'Too much change,' was the reason Logan gave him. First Briscoe leaving, then this… "Where's he at, then?"
"She won't say."
Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, making a note to talk to the lieutenant before leaving tonight. "Is he safe? Is he hurt? I said 'details', Ed."
"I don't know."
Mike struggled not to let the frustration show in his voice as he asked, "Is she planning on meeting you somewhere or what? Is she going to take you to him or give a better idea of where to find him exactly?"
"Find out tomorrow."
Logan nodded, relieved to get at least one usable answer. "Good. I'm going with you then."
"No you're not."
At that, Logan placed both hands atop his desk as he pushed herself with deliberate slowness. Smiling, he said, "We'll just see about that."
----
"It's his call, Mike."
"Lieu, I'm telling you, I think Green's too close to this to look at it objectively anymore."
Lieutenant Anita Van Buren shook her head. Part of her had to agree with Logan about that. Then again, she didn't want to take away hope from one of the few people who still held out for… "Look, would it help if I said you could go so long as you didn't tell him you were going?"
"That's pathetic, Lieu. Then I'll become just as crazy as him, only stalking."
Van Buren smiled. It did sound pathetic, and Mike wasn't one for putting up with pathetic things. "If this informant only trusts Green, we can't afford to spook her. If, as you believe, she's just stringing Ed along, then we need to put a stop to it."
A silence crept into the office. There had been several missing person's cases that led to recovery long after others gave up. And then there were many unsolved cases where hope was lost. She wasn't sure what to think about the case here.
"What if it's true and he's alive?" Logan asked.
"I don't know. Mike, part of me has prayed every night since that day and another part of me says 'this is reality and the odds are against-.'"
Mike shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe he's one to beat the odds?"
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After redressing the wound on his neck, Wendy wiped the perspiration from John's face before pulling up the covers. Staring at him, it saddened her that he had eaten so little. She knew he hadn't eaten a thing the few times she had seen him before. Yet he seemed accustomed to it, and that worried her.
She could have given Detective Green the name of the hotel, but she felt a need to be extra cautious. It would only be a matter of time before the hospital administrators figured out that she gave a bogus name and address. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair.
At the moment, she didn't care.
The only one who could put Wendy and John together to a specific location would be the taxi driver. Since he was an old friend of hers, and a regular customer, 'buying' his silence/amnesia wasn't too difficult. He even offered to make a couple of stops while en route to a little-known hotel, slipping her some extra cash 'just in case.'
Wendy combed John's hair, debating whether or not it was safe to cut it while he slept. She knew she could do it, knew he'd look more human if she did it. Add that to the partially trimmed beard that she was more than eager to finish, John could look as debonair as ever – even if it was only in her mind's eye.
She carefully rose from the bed, grabbed her purse and the drug center bag, and took out the necessary tools. After grabbing a few other things from the bathroom, she went back to the bed. Wrapping a towel around his shoulders like a barber, she gently rested him against her chest.
She was dying for a beer or a cigarette. Then again, the smell of the smoke would probably wake him up. She forcefully steadied her hands, scissors in one, and comb in the other. She could do this, she reminded herself. She needed to do it, for him.
He didn't stir once during the trimming. Part of her was relieved, another part of her terrified. What the young nurse had told her was probably true, in that the hospital wouldn't likely run the battery of necessary tests for him. She could only hope for the best, hope that Detective Green would show up, hope that the devils responsible wouldn't resurface anytime soon.
After cleaning up the mess, Wendy took her shoes off then slipped under the covers with John. Her head resting against his back, she took reassurance with every breath he took as she held him in her arms.
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Ed checked his watch for the umpteenth time. What if everything he had believed in was wrong? What if the gossipers were right in that he had lost it? Why this case got to him more than most didn't make sense to him even as he tried to explain it to his partner.
The fact that no one had even looked for this man until a dead body showed up bothered him. Had the workplace been so blind to the people that no one saw that someone was gone and that something was terribly wrong? His partner would have looked for him, of that Ed was sure.
Ed often asked himself, 'How would Lennie handle it?' Part of him knew the answer, knew the older man's wealth of experience and wisdom. Yet the young man in Ed wanted reassurance from his father-figure that all was right in the world.
"Sorry I'm late."
Ed's eyes darted up to see the woman whose return he waited for weeks. The day Wendy Douglas walked into the 27th with news about a man held hostage in one of the warehouses in the lower part of town, Ed treated it as a typical missing person's case. When he took his notebook out to write something down, the well-worn photo of Jack McCoy he carried with him fell out. Wendy scooped it up before he had a chance and let out an almost squeal, "This is him!" She kept the picture; he kept his hope.
"Is he alive?" he asked, now back in the present.
She nodded. "I don't want to leave him alone for long, though." Wendy looked hungrily at Ed's half-eaten breakfast. "Is this a new 'guy diet' or dare I ask?"
One look at her face and Ed saw the maternal intent behind the comment. He cracked a smile. "I'll claim diet." He called the waitress over for a menu then told Wendy to order whatever she wanted.
The order completed and the bill paid, the two of them left the café for his car, all the while Ed was aware of the 'shadow' behind him.
"Excuse me a moment, please." He helped Wendy into the car then turned abruptly towards Logan. Trying to force Logan back with every step he took, he said in a low voice, "Pull a stunt like this again Logan and you and I will be fightin', got it! Now go back. Now!"
Logan said evenly, "And what if you go missing just like him?"
"I won't," Ed said. "Now g-!"
"That's right," Logan said, "you won't because I'm going with you. End of discussion."
The stand-off lasted longer than Ed wanted it to. He wanted to lose Mike and not Wendy. When he saw that Mike meant what he said, Ed had no choice but to relent.