Title: Life on Mars
Desc: Rebuilding your life was supposed to be hard, Gail knew that. But after three years where she thought she finally got it right, why did it have to come crashing back down? (Sequel to "Ashes to Ashes")
Type: drama / romance
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of Rookie Blue. The original characters are theirs. The show is theirs. I'm just better at logistics.
Chapter One: Too Many Sunsets
It's been three years since Gail moved to Vancouver. She and Holly have been married a few months.
The last bag was packed. No thanks to Gail, who had vanished an hour ago. Holly smiled and shook her head, checking the drawers one last time. She'd left out the clothes they planned to wear home, their toiletries, and the small carry-ons. It all fit, too, which made Holly wonder if they'd forgotten something in a drawer.
As she finished her second check, the door to the cabin opened. "Hey, woah. You didn't have to do all that."
"Well you disappeared so someone did." Holly smirked at her wife, feeling a flush of delight just being able to call her that.
Gail, slightly sunburnt, grinned at her. "I was getting food sorted." Of course she had no food on hand, prompting Holly to arch her eyebrows. "Dinner's being delivered later. I just ... Y'know. Last night in the tropics."
"Room service, huh?" When Gail sheepishly grinned, Holly laughed.
The honeymoon, delayed twice thanks to cases, had been funded by the unlikeliest of sources. Apparently Elaine's family, having heard everything from none other than Elaine herself, had bought them an all expense paid trip to the Bahamas. Instead of a hotel, everyone had private little cabins near the water, with bathrooms and hot tubs.
Holly had to admit it was perfect. Being all inclusive, there was no need for credit cards to boot. So they'd gotten to spend two weeks in the sun. Well. Holly spent two weeks in the sun. Gail stuck to the shade. Even with sunblock, she'd gotten a bit pink. That didn't stop them from snorkelling or hiking in the jungle. It just meant they had to time it right.
There was also a lot of sleeping and sex. Which was what a honeymoon should be. It was the first time in years Holly felt truly relaxed. In a way, it was like the summer road trips with her parents, only less travel, more sleeping, and more adult. They'd eaten at some amazing restaurants and taken long walks on the beach. There'd been night sailing and star gazing.
"Well, we are all packed. So what about watching one last sunset on the water?" Holly stretched her arms up.
"Shower first," said Gail, already out of her pants. "I was running all over today and you are grubby as hell."
Exasperated, Holly shook her head. "Gail, if I shower, I'm getting into my jammies and sleeping."
"Put a robe on. We're getting room service."
Holly hesitated and saw the logic in Gail's plan. "You first. I'll put your dirties in the suitcase."
"An agreeable plan, seeing as I'm mostly naked." Gail sashayed into the bathroom and Holly laughed.
In their two years of dating and now four months of marriage, Gail hadn't changed much at all. No, all the great changes happened in the year after Holly left Toronto. Gail figured out who she was, she figured out what she was, and who she wanted to be. That childish glee with which Gail embraced life was still there, but now it seemed to be steady and stable and sane.
Well. As sane as someone belting out Kelly Clarkson in the shower was capable of being.
"Hey, Gail! I love you!"
Her wife laughed from the shower. "I know!"
Holly rolled her eyes. By the time she'd put away Gail's dirty clothes and her own, the blonde was still showering. Not that Gail didn't love long, hot showers, but this was something else. Something more. Gail was preening.
Shaking her head, Holly entertained herself with one last walk through the cabin. The privacy had been lovely, and she didn't worry about anyone seeing her naked. Not that Holly minded. Like Gail, she was comfortable in her nudity. In Holly's case it was from growing up with hippies. She still had no idea why Gail felt that way.
Finally the water turned off and Gail emerged in a lightweight robe. "There's still hot water."
Holly squinted past the woman and noted the lack of steam. Had Gail taken a cold shower? It wasn't that hot out. Well, Holly had given up a while ago about trying to deeply understand some of Gail's idiosyncratic tendencies. "How about soap?"
"There's that too." Gail eyed the clothes for the trip home. "Shoo. Go get clean."
"Bossy." Holly smirked and went into the bathroom. Her toiletries were laid out not how she'd left them. Toothbrushes, sure, that made sense. But the razor? "Gail, why is my razor out?"
"Because I want you to shave." Gail popped her head in, smiling. "Please?"
It really was rare for Gail to ask that. "Should I wash my hair?"
"I did."
"Your hair dries faster."
Gail flipped her off and left the bathroom. "Shave, wife. You'll feel better tomorrow when we get home. Trust me."
Well. Gail was the more traveled of the two. She'd been to every major European city by the time she was eighteen, after all. Holly sighed and stepped into the shower. She washed her hair, shaved her legs and armpits carefully, and even trimmed her nails. It was a routine. Every time she started the process, her mind and body did the whole thing on autopilot.
She knew Gail was much the same way. But while Gail sang as she showered, Holly went over articles in her head. She had an idea for a new one, about the evidence in the Perik case seven months back, but given the nearness of the case to the woman she loved, Holly shelved it. And she sure as hell wasn't about to ask Gail now for permission to write it up. But the serial killing behaviour was interesting.
There'd been a time when Holly had considered profiling, after all.
Absently, Holly ran a hand over her leg, catching a couple spots where the hair resisted removal. Always the back of the calf. She tsked at herself. Maybe a better article would be about the five year old body they'd found buried under the freak snowstorm last year. Yes, that was a better story. A man was killed, accidentally, by a hockey puck to the head.
He'd been playing with his friends at the lake, been hit, and fallen into the snow. When his friends tried to get to him, their combined weight cracked the ice and sent him under. Gail had mocked the group, mercilessly, while Holly had directed the recovery team. And then Holly's team came up with two bodies. That had been pretty damn cool, even Gail had to admit it. The lake was cold enough, even in summer, to prevent the full decomposition. Holly had gotten to use her diatom trick again, and they'd solved a five year old murder.
Yes, that would do. Holly beamed at her own brilliance, checked her other leg, and rinsed off. That would be a fantastic article. Maybe she could make the front cover with it.
"Hey, Gail," she said as she stepped out of the shower. "I have an idea."
"Oh really? So do I. Wanna see if they match?"
Holly laughed. "I doubt it. Mine's about an article." And she bubbled with delight, telling Gail all about her idea as she dried her hair and filed her nails down. For once, Gail didn't interrupt or make rude comments, letting Holly get all the way through. "So. What do you think?"
There was no answer. Holly frowned and braided her hair back. "Honey?" Maybe Gail had fallen asleep.
Then she heard something. It was low, behind the sound of the waves and the birds. She knew it... It was a song she'd not listened to in a long time. Gail was listening to music. Of course she didn't hear Holly's question. But... Why was she listening to that song? The last time Holly heard it, it was playing on her bathroom radio back at her townhouse in Toronto. She'd been trimming Gail's hair following the, then random, breakdown.
After they'd broken up, Holly had deleted all her MsMr songs. Every last one of them made her think of Gail. She'd not known until years later that Gail had went and downloaded them all for the same reasons. They made her think of Holly. And she'd missed Holly.
Opening the bathroom door, Holly looked around for her wife. Gail was on the bed, naked, one hand rather suggestively resting on her own inner thigh, one leg bent invitingly.
Holly's article completely fell out of her head.
She did not care in the slightest.
"Jesus, Gail."
The shaving, the hair washing, the nail trimming all made sense.
Holly swallowed a dry throat.
"It's our last night on vacation," Gail said, smiling. She gestured with one hand. A come hither motion.
Holly reflexively clutched her robe. "I ... Yes. Yes it is." The pale fingers gestured again. "I was just talking about an article," she said stupidly.
"You were. And I'm honestly not sure what it says about me that I find your science babble a turn on." Gail's voice lowered. "The way you get excited and just exude brain... And being that damn sexy does not hurt at all."
"Talking about dead bodies turns you on?"
"No, you talking about anything, even sports, god help me, turns me on." Gail shifted. "Now. Are you going to come here or do I have to take care of this myself?"
As Gail spoke, her hand moved and Holly felt her entire body heat up.
Oh.
Her brain had not been in that space at all, and then suddenly it was. Suddenly her skin burned and an ache, a longing, started. Holly hadn't just married Gail for the body, but dear god in heaven and earth and all things else, she was everything Holly had ever wanted and all the things she thought she'd never have.
Holly was so, so glad to be proven wrong.
"We've got death," announced Juliet as she walked into the office, spotting her erstwhile partner just sitting down.
Gail groaned. "Come on, I just got back! Can't we start with a day of paperwork and catching up on email?"
"You don't want a drive-by on a remote road?" That caught Gail's attention quickly. Weird cases always did. "I'll even let you drive."
"Sold. But I expect a cake tomorrow!" Grabbing her jacket, Gail pulled it back on and followed Juliet back out.
Officer Yung took that opportunity to walk off the elevator with a box of donuts and a pair of coffees. "Uh… Welcome back, Detective?"
Gail cheekily took the box. The whole box. And the coffees "Thanks, Yung, you're the best!"
"You're incorrigible," said Juliet, taking the coffees and picking one for herself. "I sent him out for you, you know."
Muffled, because she was eating a donut, Gail replied. "You're the best then." The blonde's eyes were bright and amused.
Juliet peered into the box and picked her favourite donut. "So how was the honeymoon?"
"Good." Gail grinned. Her nose was a little red. They'd gone to someplace warm and tropical, but Gail had refused to tell anyone exactly where. Juliet, wisely, decided not to ask. "We went snorkelling and Holly made me try bungee jumping."
"That sounds way too athletic. You married a jock, Peck."
"Don't I know it." Gail chomped into a second donut and handed the box to Juliet so they could get into the car. "But it was nice to get away and just be able to … y'know be?"
Juliet laughed. "Do you even know how to do that?"
"I'm learning! Where are we going?"
"Ass end of beyond."
They beat forensics to the scene, which was rare since Holly had taken over. She liked things done promptly. Two sets of uniforms had the road area blocked off, though it was nearly unnecessary. This was the back roads of beyond.
"Helluva spot for a drive by," Gail said. She pulled on a pair of aviator sunglasses.
"Discrete. Maybe a hit?'
"Could be." Gail parked and stretched as she got out.
Juliet stood up and looked around. A professional hit would be fun, though. Not for the dead guy, but to dig into and maybe find some seedy people. As she surveyed the scene, Juliet's eye was caught by something shiny. Metallic. "Peck, I'm going to check something out."
"Don't get lost." Gail was studying the car.
She walked across the damp grass and brush, absently wondering about ticks, until Juliet found the shiny thing. A bicycle wheel. And a cyclist. Dead. And really, really, familiar looking.
Well now. That was very very odd.
"Hey, Peck. What's the thing about how we all have doppelgängers?"
Gail looked up from the body along the road side. "Something like we all have seven people who look just like us out there. I forget. Holly would know. Why? You find yours?"
Juliet shook her head. "Not mine. We got a second body though." She was a good bit away from the main accident, but looking at it, it was possible the vic had been thrown this way. How fast would the car have to be going to do that? If they were traveling in the same direction… Shit. Juliet realized those stupid word problems in school were useful.
Brushing off her pants, Gail walked over and froze. "Well that's fucking disturbing," she said, nearly a mutter.
"I kinda feel better it's not just me." Juliet tilted her head. "It's like… if Holly was a boy?"
"Ew. Can I not think about that?" But Gail frowned deeply. "Shit."
Like as not, Gail was thinking what Juliet was thinking. It wasn't like it was a secret that Holly had been adopted. Juliet knew that. She'd met the Stewarts at the wedding and they told everyone all about how they'd fostered her first, then adopted her at ten, and she'd been an awkward and gangly kid the whole time they'd had her. They showed photos of adoption day, putting them in an album with graduation day and, now, wedding day.
So no. It was not not like it was a secret to anyone. Still. One didn't expect to find a near-perfect male clone of one's coroner, who happened to be married to one's own partner, dead in a field.
And yet that was exactly what they had. A dead guy who was the spitting image of Holly Peck (née Stewart).
She had to ask. "Does Holly have any blood family?"
"Not that she knows of." Gail pulled on fresh gloves and double checked that the man was dead. It was perfunctory. He was ghastly pale and there was a pool of blood under him. "Dead cyclist. Dead driver with bullet holes. So… You think the driver was shot and veered off, clipping the cyclist and killing him?"
"You are taking the whole 'my wife has a dude dupe' way calmer than I would," Juliet said.
Gail sighed. "Well. I had a serial killer and his mentor make look-a-likes of me. After that, a nice coincidence is calming."
"I'm just saying, if it was Nick I'd be freaking the fuck out."
With that slightly evil smile, Gail looked up at her. "Whereas I would be carolling in the streets?"
Juliet rolled her eyes. "You're a pain in my ass, Peck. Why did I agree to be your partner?"
"Because I'm fucking awesome, we have fun cases, and we've got the best case closure record in, like, forever?"
It was true. Juliet had been offered the rank of sergeant, but it would have meant a desk job and no more cases like this. And Gail was totally right. This was fun. And they were good at it. "Where's forensics anyway?"
Gail looked back at the body. "They're having some sort of drama bullshit thing. Holly was complaining last night that her new guy is an idiot and she never should have left him without putting someone in charge of him directly."
"Duncan levels?"
"Oh yeah," said Gail, smirking. "You know, I thought Duncan's name was Gerald for the longest time." She studied the body a moment more and then shook her head. "I want his ID."
"Check his shoe."
Gail scowled. "Ward, if we take anything off the body, I will not hear the end of it for days. Weeks. Years."
Juliet laughed. "Whipped!"
"I actually like it when science closes our cases for us," said Gail with a snarl.
"I like it when forensics gets here right away." Juliet's counter was weak and she knew it.
Luckily, for both of their sakes, the crime scene SUV pulled up. "About damn time," Gail said in a low mutter.
"Uh, you're gonna take that back." Juliet frowned as Holly stepped out of the driver's side of the SUV. "Dr. Peck in the house."
If it hadn't been so sad, Gail's head snapping up would have been comical. "Fuck me." Her voice was soft and angry. It was an interesting mix.
"Go. I'll watch our double."
Nodding, Gail stood up and pulled her gloves off as she walked over to the SUV. From the distance, Juliet watched Holly's face turn from the very bright, pleased to see Gail, expression into one of confusion. There was some gesturing, a minion going to look at the dead driver, and Holly walked over to Juliet with Gail beside her.
"So." Holly pulled a pair of gloves on and looked down at the dead man.
"Yeah." Gail exhaled in agreement.
"That's really fucking creepy," said Holly, decisively. "It's like ... A guy version of me."
Gail scowled. "Again, ew."
"Oh good, you've had that conversation?"
"Juliet says I'm way too calm about it." Gail shrugged and leaned over. "He has your nose."
Holly frowned. "A lot of people have noses like that."
"Holl, I spend an inordinate amount of time looking at your face. I think I'm qualified to say you gotta get off this case."
The doctor sighed and squatted by the man. "If the blood work looks anything like mine, I'll agree." She looked over her shoulder. "Hey, CSU, I need photos here."
Once the crime scene crew had taken the photos, Holly checked the pockets. "Anything useful?" Juliet wondered if the name was going to be the same as Holly's when she was a ward of the province.
"Jeremy Wilcox. Local." Holly shrugged. "Well. I guess we wait for the reports."
The doctor took the body back to the wagon and Gail sighed. "Yeah. This shit is just going to be weird as hell."
Juliet did not envy her at all. "Maybe it's just coincidence."
A despondent Gail, the one who had moved to Vancouver for a case, the one who had left her family and everything else behind, was the one who replied. "Juliet. Have you met my life? There's no such thing as coincidence. It's all just shit-on-Gail."
Staring at the results, Holly felt an unfamiliar sensation in the pit of her stomach. She hadn't felt this way in years, not since a drunken bender with Lisa and Rachel. Sick to her stomach. Swallowing bile, Holly closed the file and walked down the hall to her boss' office.
"Got a minute?"
He looked up, confused, and she held up two folders. "Is that the double homicide?"
"Murder and accidental death," she said shakily.
Maybe it was her tone that worried her boss, but Ira frowned. "You coming down with something?"
The answer Gail might give would be 'only an acute case of what the actual fuck.' But Holly was a bit more of a professional. "Not exactly. The bicyclist… His blood work came back."
"Already? That was this morning!"
"I rushed it." She put the files down on his desk. "I need you to assign someone else to the case."
Ira stared at her for a long moment. Slowly he opened the files and skimmed the first one. Then he looked at the second. "Holly. Why is your …" He stopped and swore. "Did you know?"
Holly shook her head. "No." The DNA was a down and dirty match, but it was a familial one. There was no hiding the fact that Jeremy Wilcox was her brother. And not just a half brother.
The evidence did not lie. It couldn't. It showed cold hard truths to anyone who had the bravery and temerity to look. Holly had always prided herself on being the bold one who looked. She didn't shy away from horrors. That was something her parents had given her. A strength.
Now science looked back at her and told her she had a brother. A full, biological, brother.
At eleven, she'd been upset her foster sister had opted not to be adopted. Alicia was older, and had a sister in Newfie. When she turned nineteen, Alicia hugged her foster parents and said goodbye to the only family she'd really known. She left them to be with her biological family, to try and make some sense of that.
It didn't make any sense to Holly. Why leave the safety and comfort and love of the Stewarts? They were the ones who cared and loved. They were the ones who sheltered and protected. They were the ones who wanted Alicia and Holly and Drew.
Whoever Holly's parents were, they'd not wanted this other child anymore than they'd wanted her. That made her feel a little better. Maybe they'd abandoned him as well. Immediately she felt nauseated for even thinking such a horrible thought.
No one deserved to be abandoned. No one.
Holly's first clear memory was holding her belongings, meagre as they were. All she had were clothes that were out of season and didn't fit, a couple books, and a pair of glasses that were ungainly and not really the right prescription. They were close enough. And she wasn't even four years old. She was being taken to another temporary home, with five other girls. Within eighteen months, she'd been passed on to three more homes. One home, the mother hit her and Holly ran away. Another home, the older foster children stole her books and glasses and blamed her. At the fifth or sixth home, she fought back.
That was when she met Maya and Dieter. They weren't supposed to be there for her. Truthfully, the scraped and bloody and sullen seven year old caught not their attention but Alicia's. They were there for some information on Alicia's family, her missing sisters, and when the adults went to discuss things, the older girl spoke to her.
Why was Holly here? Where were her foster parents? Where was she going now?
And the answers didn't seem to help or please Alicia at all. As soon as Maya came out, Alicia demanded she talk to Holly and take her home.
Home, at that time, was a motor home that was already problematic when it came to a foster child. A second one, a violent child as Holly was now labeled, was an uphill battle. But it was calm Dieter who said that art and music could help. And if no one wanted this girl, then they would try.
Holly remembered not caring. She remembered trying to do her own dishes and laundry. She remembered Maya asking if she wanted help. She remembered Alicia asking what she wanted to eat. And as much as Holly loved her mother now, the strongest memory was her creeping to peek at Dieter's paintings.
He'd set himself up in the garage, often drawing the motor home as it was parked by their rental house. The shitty house they'd picked just so they could sort out what could be done with Holly. They had insisted she stay out of school for a little while, until she could be herself, and homeschooled her. Mornings was reading and history, afternoons was math and a little science. As much as a seven year old needed those things.
But after her lessons with Maya, and before Alicia came home from public school, she was free to walk around the neighbourhood. She just had to tell them where she was going. They bought her clothes that fit, that were in style, and that were hers. They bought her a watch so she could know when to come home. And Dieter painted.
So Holly moved a box to below the window and peeked in, watching him paint. Seeing a world be created by his mind and his hand was fascinating. Two weeks went by before Dieter asked if she wanted to learn how to paint. Holly hadn't even drawn so much as a stick figure house before then, and said she didn't know how.
Those lessons, the ones of creation, were the ones that helped her the most. The next time the social worker came over, Holly was laughing and happy. She teased Alicia and sat in Maya's lap to have her hair braided. She hung off Dieter's neck and asked him when they were going to drive around in the motor home and see places.
Those were her parents.
Not the mysterious unknown people who abandoned not one but two children.
"Sit down," ordered Ira.
As soon as Holly sat, she realized she had somehow gone past a little sick to her stomach and into woozy. "Interesting," she muttered, feeling herself slip out of real cognitive awareness. This was what the world felt like when too much happened at once. Holly had always thought it would be a little different. Maybe it would be like in the movies, where everything slowed down. But no, no everything just tuned right out.
A familiar voice cut in through the white noise. "Hey, Holly? Please confirm existence."
She looked up and blinked, surprised to see her wife standing right there. "Hey. When did you get here?"
Gail sighed. "Ira called me fifteen minutes ago, Holl. You blipped out."
Holly frowned. "What? No, we were talking about the case and I have to be recused..." She turned to her boss, who had the worried dad look going on. "Oh. I've ... You know, everyone looses time now and again, but I've never had it happen like that."
Pulling up a chair, Gail sat facing Holly. "Uh huh, emotional trauma's a trip, babe. Look at me for a second, will you?"
For some reason, Holly found herself smiling as she looked at her wife. "Hi."
"She's just in delayed shock," declared Gail. "I'll take her home."
"I've never seen shock hit quite like that." Ira sounded worried.
"I have," said Gail, flatly. "Holl, come on. Let's pack up your stuff and go home."
Holly found it incredibly hard to concentrate on what was happening. She barely followed along as Gail guided her through packing up and getting in the car to go home. It wasn't until she was at the house, standing on the front porch, that everything actually clicked into place.
"I have a brother," she said to Gail, pausing at the door.
"Yeah," replied her wife, her voice soft.
"I have a brother. Not a half brother, a brother brother. We share 25% of our DNA. Did you know I have my mother's DNA?" She turned to look at Gail, unable to stop talking. "It's illegal, but when I was in Toronto, I looked up my case and hers and there was hair. From her brush. And I ran the DNA, just to be sure. Because we didn't really do that so much in the 70s and 80s after all." Holly faltered.
Reaching past her, Gail unlocked the door. "And?"
"Oh. And she's my mother. Whoever she was. Biologically at least. My Mom, Maya, is my mom. She, you know, she's Mom. She raised me. She taught me how to ride a bike." Holly paused. "Who taught you?"
"To ride a bike?" Gail snorted and gently pushed Holly inside. "No one. I taught myself."
Holly sighed and took off her jacket. It was by rote. She knew she was only doing what was normal and expected of her just then, but she lacked the ability to do anything else. Just like she had no ability to filter what was coming out of her mouth. "If I had a choice between my parents and yours, my birth parents I mean, I'd take mine."
"Holly. You don't remember anything about them." Gail hung up the jackets and tapped on her phone. "How about you sit down. I'll make tea?"
Shaking her head, Holly fidgeted. "No. I think. Can we go running? Or do something physical? Not sex, I mean I love sex. Especially with you, but I'm kinda wired and I'm freaking out. Oh. Is this how you felt when you cut off your hair?"
With a sigh, Gail gently took hold of Holly's elbow. "No, I was having a panic attack. You're in shock, Holly."
Holly nodded. "You're right. You're right. This is an adrenal response. I'm probably going to start shaking in a minute and..." She trailed off. "Oh my god, Gail. I had a brother." The sob crawled out of her throat and Holly covered her mouth. "And he's dead. And I don't know anything."
"There it is," said Gail, knowingly. Suddenly Holly found herself sitting on the couch and her hands were shaking. Gail's arms were around her and the tears started pouring. The feeling of abandonment, of pain and loss. The anger and despair she'd felt as a little girl all came back in a moment.
Wave upon wave of agony washed through her, hot and salty and burning. Holly sobbed and buried her face into Gail's shoulder. Her wife didn't say anything, just held her close and rocked gently. How could she have had a sibling? How could this be a thing that, her entire life, she'd never known? Had her mother been pregnant when she'd abandoned Holly? Why didn't she remember anything?
Holly gasped for breath and tried to apologize, but Gail whispered that it was alright. Everything was alright.
But it was a lie. Nothing was alright.
Holly had a brother. She had a brother and he was dead and she'd lost the only blood family she might possibly have known.
Why did feeling pain for something she'd never known hurt so much? But it did. It seared her soul, red hot pokers in her heart. For a moment it showed her a world where she had her birth parents, and then it ripped it apart.
She had lost something she'd never had. And the only thing holding her together was the person who was always there for her.
Giving in to the raw agony, Holly clung to Gail and sobbed.
Don't worry, there's more. Holly just literally cannot process all this right now. She has to decide if she wants to know more. Spoilers? It would be a very short fic if she didn't want to know more. Unless her mother's a serial killer...