A/N: Completely random, as is half the stuff I've been posting up nowadays. Apparently my muse is convinced that 'conscience' is a good word to use for a prompt leading to yet another Deakins fic, therefore this. And CI's not mine...
I honestly wondered what drove people to do the things they did. What drove them to think that committing a crime was a good idea. What drove them to think that they wouldn't get caught. True, there were those rare few cases where the ones responsible didn't get caught…as I knew all too well. But I still wondered. I'd learned a while ago that there were certain things I was never going to figure out, and certain things that it would take me forever to figure out, but eventually I would. This fell under the former category.
It was also one of the reasons why I found myself sitting in my office, staring out into the squad room, relieved that we had finally closed another case, but at the same time bothered by it. The lot of us, that is, to say, myself, and the rest of the squad, had seen more than our fair share of the dark side of New York City, and yet it was almost as if we couldn't get enough of it. Like we kept going back for more. Like the ones we investigated and eventually nailed had nothing to do other than give us a so-called reason for living.
Thinking wasn't exactly something that I wanted to be doing, but it was the one thing that I could never really keep from doing when I didn't want to be doing it. One part of me wondered if this was really what I wanted to be doing; the other was telling me in no uncertain terms that if it wasn't, then I wouldn't be doing it, and if I was and I didn't want to be, then what the hell was I still doing there? It was these two voices that made me start thinking harder, and as I did, the one thought I'd been searching for all of this time finally hit me.
Most people had those proverbial voices. True, there were some who didn't, but those people were few and far between. Those that did, however, were not, and it was this thought that had me continuing to wonder.
Everyone was supposed to have a conscience. But as I looked out into my squad room, and watched my detectives as I thought about the work all of us did day in and day out, I wondered if anyone other than the lot of us really did.