He didn't meet her until the day she died. It was a mistaken run-in, their paths never destined to cross. Somehow it made her death more difficult, but he never knew her. He'd gone to one funeral only to have the result being another funeral.
Montgomery was a good man. A family man. Like him but - not. Alexis had long since moved back to California with Meredith. Not that she stayed long in the first place. She'd been in New York for less than a semester. Montgomery had somewhat of a normal family. Not that they didn't have their secrets, because he knew he did.
He didn't know the man that well - only the basics: family, age, workplace, - and he only saw him a few times a month, at most.
When the shot rings out, he's next to strangers. He'd like to think his mother would have come if she could. No one hears the shot until it enters her chest. There's calm for a second until everyone registers it. A few people try to run to her but they're held down. She's alone on the grass, looking up at the sky as she bleeds out. All alone.
He looks to where the shooter must have been, but instead of a man all he can see are rows and rows of gravestones. He absently wonders now whether she'll be among them, a name without a face and only a slab of stone to identify her. He wonders whether anyone will go to visit her.
Her funeral is mostly empty. He doesn't know anyone there, only of them. Montgomery has told him of them, but he can't recall all of their names. None of the people there are related to her - her family is dead. After the funeral, he meets with one of the few people that attend. Ryan.
He's tight-lipped about what happened to her, and leaves before he can ask a few more questions. It's completely inappropriate, to be asking questions about a dead woman, but everyone acts the same. Not hurt or mournful. They were accepting, as if they had known it would have happened all along. They were resigned; he figured she may have been as well.
Her father drunk himself to death after her mother's murder. Car crash a whole year after. He'd taken other lives with him. Her mother's murder. The pieces click into place two months after the funeral, a few days after he finds out about her father.
So calls Smith, a desperate voice to a dead one.
You may not have known her, but you were supposed to keep her safe.
He opens his safe, takes out the file that he was never supposed to read. Closing the blinds and locking the door, he opens the contents along his desk. Smith had first dropped it off a few months ago, knowing that Montgomery had set up for him to shadow her for a few months.
Alexis came to New York. He never took the chance.
The evidence is all there. It'll tarnish the reputation of so many and he's left wondering whether he should do anything about it. It isn't his problem, and if he does nothing, things will continue the same for him. No negative repercussions. Not much will change for anyone else. He isn't saving anyone, he's just going to ruin lives.
He gathers the evidence together, the exact way he found it.
He puts it back in his safe.
He sits beside her during the visitation. They're together by complete chance; time and space. In fact, he was supposed to be here an hour earlier. She doesn't cry, but her eyes water slightly and she passes a box of tissues to someone he doesn't recognize beside her.
She looks like she's made of steel.
No one is with her.
He stands to leave before she does, saying a final goodbye to Evelyn before heading out the door. Sometime when he was doing so, she stood up, but now she's leaning on the door.
He walks past her without saying a word and if it wasn't for her placement, he never would have noticed her. He gets his coat from one of the workers there and requests for hers as well. The visitation is only a few minutes from being over and yet she's here, watching everyone walk past her.
He taps lightly on her shoulder, settling into the opposite door frame. Surprisingly, it's quite small, but there are multiple exits so there isn't much of a need for larger openings. It's somewhat of a private engagement.
He gives her a slight smile, the most he can manage and actually give that wouldn't be unfitting for their current location. Her eyes are teary; she came here so no one would see her cry. He hands her the jacket and she mumbles. It takes him a second to realize she said 'thanks', but by the time that he has she's already walking out the door. He walks to his car alone, hers is at the opposite side of the lot.
It's the first and only time he's ever interacted with her.
When the NYPD requests his help on a case a year later, he comes in out of respect for Montgomery. He works with the same people who came to her funeral, but Ryan doesn't remember him.
He asks.
He asks, and it's probably the stupidest thing he could have ever done.
Ryan remembers him.
She was young. 19, and her mother was murdered. 20, when her father became a murderer. He's heard it all before, but from someone who knew her so well - it's different. Hearing about how she held herself, never let it affect her, how she was always fine. The steel resolve he met at the funeral.
That wasn't her.
The Kate Beckett he met wasn't the real one; but then again, no one had ever met the authentic one.
"No, you don't get to make that excuse!" He's angry. It's terrifying. Though he hasn't known Ryan for a long time, he still doesn't expect the reaction he's met with.
"You had a lead on her case, and you sat on it for a year. Now, who is this person, how do I find him?"
"You don't."
He never meant for the file to see the light of day. When he tries to call Smith, the call doesn't go through. It never will, he supposes.
He takes a look at the file again. No doubt it's the only copy. He's sure anything related to this has been long destroyed.
He decides he has nothing left to lose.
A/N: Dead Luck will be updated soon, sorry for the wait.
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