Title: Fading Lights
Disclaimer: I'm writing fanfic, and thus I am clearly not Andrew Marlowe. Point being - I own nothing.
Summary: When Kate Beckett recognizes a reflection of herself in the plight of a young NYPD police recruit who's job is placed on probation after a suicide attempt, the homicide department makes room for another tag-along...which makes for an interesting change to the Caskett dynamic.
Author's Note: I haven't written fan fiction since vintage Harry Potter days, back when I was still a kid. Forgive me if I'm a little rusty, guys. I hope you enjoy it! It's also significant to mention that this story was inspired by my extraordinary best friend, who is truly one of the most amazing people I have ever met. This one's for you, hun! Always.
Silence rung through the bullpen, marred only by the sounds of a pen scribbling furiously across paper. Kate Beckett sat behind her desk, bent over in exhaustion as she pulled herself through what was left of her paperwork from the last two weeks. On the last page, and the last line, she barely stopped to cross the t's at the end of her signature. After another 14 hour day, Beckett was ready to clock out.
On her way to the elevator, Kate send sympathetic nods to two detectives in passing, not at all envious of the late hours they had on the shifts ahead of them. Her gesture was met with a grimace and a dejected sigh. But hey, she'd put in her time. Sleep beckoned. Sleep, and chinese take-out. Yum.
The elevator plummeted three floors and came to an abrupt stop sooner than Beckett was expecting. She furrowed her brow at the sight of the doors opening to reveal the uniformed division of the 12th. Kate was accustomed to a much quicker descent to the lobby this late in the evening. Stranger still, a threesome of uniformed officers trampled into the shaft, one of whom began frantically pushing the button for ground floor. Patience beyond tested, Kate failed to repress a sarcastic jab.
"By all means, continue to accost the elevator button...should definitely help speed things along," she said, crossing her arms beneath a royal blue pea coat. It was early May in New York City, but the rain of April had carried over into the new month, and brought with it the brisk, chilly wind of Spring. The coat was crucial.
The officer who pushed the button, a tall, balding man with his NYPD hat dangling from his free hand, threw her a warning glance, and withdrew his finger. She smiled awkwardly.
"Sorry, long day" she said, by way of explanation. The balding man twitched, then lost it.
"Long day? Try rooting around through New York City's dirtiest trash bins for evidence only to uncover nothing. Try taking statements from the scum of the ghetto. Try talking down a gangster who's threatening to kill his own sister. And to top it all off, try -"
"Ryerson, cool it." said the sturdy looking blonde cop, the woman of the group. The stitching on her shoulder identified her as Callaghan. She took a step toward Beckett, standing two feet shorter and yet still as intimidating as the Hulk in a mad rage.
"Detective, we just got a call about a body. A uniformed body - she's one of our own. EMS is saying she's alive, but unconscious. She might not make it. Mind showing some respect?" she said.
Beckett looked at her feet, and then raised her head to meet eyes with Callaghan. Worry lines etched her face. Kate looked at the other two cops, who looked equally distressed.
"Guys, I'm really sorry. I -" the elevator door chimed, and they let themselves out without giving regard to Kate. They spoke in hushed tones to one another, rushing through the lobby and out onto the streets. Guilt-ridden, Beckett followed at a slow trot. Neither Ryerson nor Callaghan turned to address her. The third uniform, a stout young man, looked warily behind his shoulder but said nothing. For a moment, he met Beckett's gaze. He quickly looked away and returned his attention to the others.
Beckett silenced her iPhone for added discretion as she followed the trio. She wasn't exactly sneaking up on them. If a body had been found, as a homicide detective she had every right to be there. But to reveal herself before they arrived at the crime scene might damage their hope that the fallen officer would still be alive when they got to her. Kate knew they were grasping at straws for strength on this one. She'd let them have what little hope they could muster. And in the event that the woman didn't survive...well, she'd be there to take over.
Kate was convinced that the crime scene wasn't far. After all, had it been a long way off, they'd have taken a squad car. Her aching feet screamed in protest as she forced one heel in front of the other, clicking mutely against the side-walk. The young, toad-like cop turned again. Again he said nothing. The others remained oblivious...or at least, pretended to be oblivious. Beckett huffed as they wound through the streets. When they finally stopped at an alleyway, mouths gaping, Kate froze as a precaution.
"Aw hell no, it's Blue." the silent cop plunged into the dark before the others, clearly more invested in the situation than the others. Beckett felt another stab of guilt - he'd let her follow them. He'd accepted that they might need someone from homicide when they arrived. He'd skipped the irrationalities of hope, which seemed to suggest he'd known death before. And now he was going to face it again.
Callaghan and Ryerson followed after a slow pause. EMS was indeed on site, the red and blue of their emergency lights circled the crime scene. If they hadn't rushed her to the hospital yet, the attack must have only just happened. Either that, or she'd already passed. Beckett surged forward.
"I'm sorry Ma'am, we have an officer down. You can't pass," said a husky uniform, guarding the parameter. Beckett flashed her badge, and he let her through.
"What the hell happened here?" she asked. The uniform whistled exasperatedly, shaking his head.
"Well I'll tell you, it wasn't an attempted murder. That much I know for sure." he said. Beckett frowned in confusion. The uniform just pointed in the direction of the stretcher. She walked forward.
The paramedics were speaking fast to Callaghan, who nodded here and there, arms crossed against her chest. Ryerson kicked the pavement. The silent one stood at the open door of the ambulance, wringing his hands. Beckett approached him.
"My name is -"
"Detective Beckett. Homicide. I know," he stated.
"Uh, yeah. Have we met?" she asked tentatively. He looked harshly at her.
"You worked my brother's murder. Sean Fletcher, 13, stabbed in Central Park...I was kinda under the impression you remembered people, not corpse numbers. Guess you didn't remember me," he said glumly. Brain synapse.
"Christopher. I do remember," she replied, softening her tone. He lit up.
"Thank God," he said, then laughed. "I basically became a cop because of you. I'd be embarrassed if you forgot who I even was"
"You a rookie, Christopher?" she asked. He smiled ruefully.
"Can you smell it on me, or what? Yeah, first month on the job. Same as her." he pointed his thumb over his shoulder into the ambulance.
"Who is she?"
"Alexandra Blue. My partner." The bland, harsh tone was back. "She took a bullet to the chest". Kate bristled. Fought against a flashback.
"Any leads on who might be responsible?" Beckett asked, leaning on one leg and peering intently at Christopher. He looked at the ground, lifted his gaze to the street lights, then back at the ground. He cleared his throat. His eyes glistened. And then, he spoke.
"Yeah. She's responsible."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand what that -" Beckett was suddenly cut off when Ryerson bustled past, his shoulder crashing into hers.
"Attempted suicide, detective. Not quite your game." Ryerson barked.
A deep fury exploded within her. Not even about Ryerson's insensitive, arrogant remark. That she could handle. An attempted suicide among their own? One of New York's finest nearly slain by her own hand? The notion was absolutely unacceptable. Especially for a rookie.
"Don't mind him, Beckett. He's on edge" Christopher explained. Beckett shook her head.
"I'm not too concerned about that. Did you want me to give you a lift to the hospital?" Beckett asked, watching the look of agony on Chris' face as another cop accompanied Alexandra in the ambulance instead of him. He nodded eagerly.
"You know, Blue is one of the strongest people I've ever met. I had no idea that she was hiding so much pain." Chris said, as they rushed back to the precinct to collect Beckett's cruiser. Kate was silent for a moment as she considered how to reply.
"You'd be surprised how many secrets pile up behind the badge. It's like fading lights...nobody really notices until everything goes dark."