How The Light Gets In: Chapter Four

I don't own Rookie Blue

I assure you I will be finishing this story. I'm just a horrible person and it takes me a while to get anything down. Please be warned – there are one or two homophobic slurs and an ablest slur and a fight scene in this chapter. Nothing too bad.

Please enjoy.

I wish that right at this moment I could be treated with the kind of unreserved love dished out by intelligent and warm parents to a beautiful first child. – Hyland

What a pleasant day. "Gail" She didn't have a worry in the world "Gail" having finished the assignments due today about four days ago "Gail" and there wasn't a single person to bother "Gail" her while she was "Gail" clearly going somewhere and moving with great "Gail" purpose and not in the mood to be both-"GAIL"-ered!

"What?" She spun around to face her incredibly annoying follower.

"Gail," he wheezed. "Finally." Chris bent over to catch his breath, hands braced on his knees. "I've been calling you for ages." He waved back down the hallway in the direction they had come.

Gail folded her arms. "I know. I heard you."

"If you heard me, why didn't you – you know what, never mind." Chris shook his head, straightening up. "Look, I just wanted to tell you I got tackled at training yesterday. You know how bad it was raining and the defense just bam." Chris punched his fist into his hand, demonstrating. "They just fell into me, full on knocked me to the ground. Can you believe that?"

"Yes."

Chris grimaced at her lack of support and then again when she started to poke at his shoulder, obviously the one he had hurt given all the sports tape. It was supposed to look morbid, what with her blank expression and known penchant for causing other people pain, but really she was making sure that he wasn't about to keel over and die. "Anyway, I can't go to football practice this afternoon."

"And?" she asked, still poking.

"And that means I won't be there after school. I know that it's not great but my shoulder is – would you please stop poking that? It's sore." He flinched when she poked a particularly painful spot.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, finally pulling her hand away.

"Oh, well, I just wanted you to know so that you could find a way to get home. Do you want me to ask Dov to give you a lift?"

"No." She turned on her heel and continued toward her classroom.

"So you're going to call someone else to pick you up then?" he pressed, following her.

"Chris, you know I catch the bus."

"Yeah but that's while I'm there. But I won't be there and it'll be dark and you should get someone to pick you up."

"Who would I call?" she asked thoughtlessly, flicking through the pages of her assignment.

"Your mom?" Chris offered.

"She's busy."

"Okay. Your dad then."

"He's busy as well."

"Brother?" She'd mentioned Steve in passing once, when asked to contribute after Chloe, excited by the opportunity to bore someone new to death, had practically made a family tree of her own siblings and cousins and nieces and nephews and aunts and uncles and grandparents and great-grandparents…okay she didn't go quite that far but thirty minutes into the most tedious lunch ever and Gail started making things up in her head and again began contemplating the joys of self-inflicted unconsciousness. She would have done anything, absolutely anything, to make Chloe shut up so she jumped at the chance to mention that she had one brother, his name was Steve, and nothing else. It gained her a whole minute of reprieve from Chloe's voice.

"He's not even in the city."

"Then how are you doing to get home?" he asked, stopping her with a hand on her arm before she walked into class.

"Look, Diaz, I appreciate the concern," not "but I'll be fine. Now can you let me go? Because I needed to be in this class about," she glanced at the clock on the wall, "one boring discussion ago." She barely even looked at him while she said it, already trying to scope out the best seat in the class, which was a mistake. If she had been looking at him, she would have seen his face set in determination and she would have been suspicious. As it was, he just let her go and made a call of his own.

"Hey Dov," he said into his phone. "What are you up to this afternoon?"

The one thing that Gail liked about her mothers intensive pre-police training regime was running. It was something she'd found easy from the beginning and now it was kind of relaxing. It let her think. And the beauty of running on a track was in the freedom and ease of it – it was slightly spongy to take stress off the knees and ankles and there was no need to look out for cars or cyclists like she did running around the streets. Plus, she liked the sound her feet made.

She picked a reasonable pace and sunk fully into the rhythm of it, listening to the thump of her feet and sparing only a little energy to listen to the other runners. She felt the stretch and slight burn in her legs and lungs. It felt good.

"Run faster, Peck!" her coach bellowed from the dugout. He had hidden himself in there when it started raining slightly – a mist, nothing to stop running over. "They're gaining on you."

She knew they weren't. She couldn't hear them. But Gail chanced a glance over her shoulder anyway and eventually spotted the other runners half the track behind her. They were staggering a little and, yep, that one fell over. She allowed herself a little smirk before glaring at the coach – how dare he attempt to use scare tactics on her?

"Pick up the pace, Peck!" he yelled. She did and the last hundred metres of the track fell away beneath her. "Okay," he said down to his clipboard when she jogged over. "Stretch," he commanded when she didn't immediately begin. A roll of the eyes and then she hooked a hand around her ankle and obediently stretched. "You improved on your time from the last run by a whole minute. That's good but you can do better. Stay hydrated and remember to stretch. Okay?"

"Yes sir." He gave her an approving nod.

"I want to see you here bright and early Wednesday morning," he ordered.

"Yes sir," she said again, but used her face to show him exactly how she felt about that. Not good. Mornings were not something to look forward to. He chuckled and clapped a hand on her shoulder.

"I know the feeling, Peck. Have a good night."

"You too, sir." She jogged to the change rooms and listened with a fond smile as he bellowed at the other runners. A quick look at her watch told her there was exactly no time for a shower and so she slipped into longer running pants and a jacket instead. She groaned picking up her perpetually heavy school bag and took a few seconds to adjust to the weight before—

"Hey Gail."

"Oh my god!" she shrieked, jumping into the wall and shoving her assailant away in the same moment.

"Ow," Dov complained from the ground. He had fallen when Gail shoved him and he wondered whether he should bother standing up again. Gail might push him over if he did. She was mean. She would probably do that.

"Dov, what the hell?" she breathed out, hand covering her now wildly thumping heart. "What the hell?" she said again, smacking his shoulder when he stood.

"I'm sorry! I thought you heard me," he yelped, trying to deflect her hits.

"Yeah well…I didn't."

"Clearly." He brushed down his pants and picked up his bag. "So, where to?"

"What?"

"Well, Chris told me he walks you somewhere after track. He's not here so I thought I would walk with you." He shrugged. "So…where do you go? The bus stop out front?" Gail nodded and he smiled. "Then let's go, Peck. Time's a wasting."

Gail followed him, silent for once, her mind whirring. "Dov, why are you here?" she asked. He stopped still and looked over her worriedly.

"Did you hit your head when I scared you? Accidentally scared you, I mean," he added, in case she wanted to hit him again. He reached up to poke her head and she slapped his hand away. "I'm walking you to the bus stop," he said slowly. She cross her arms, narrowed her eyes, and he sighed. "Look, Chris called me and told me you'd be walking alone. He wasn't comfortable with that, I wasn't comfortable with that. The world is a scary place. There are ruffians, thugs, poison icy…" Gail felt her lips quirk up despite herself. "Quicksand, cannibals, snakes, the plague, large bugs, men with pointy teeth." He waved a hand. "I should stop. I don't want to upset you."

"You are such a nerd. Are you aware of exactly how nerdy you are?" she said with a shove.

"You know, I don't think you mind nerds so much as you pretend you do," he said, retaliating with a very light punch to her shoulder. She shrugged, but a nerd she certainly didn't mind suddenly consumed her thoughts. She froze in place thinking about the girl – since when did she not hate someone? Or at least mildly dislike them? "Come on." He tugged lightly on her bag strap. "Let's go."

"Dov, I really don't know why you're doing this."

"Gail," he groaned. "We are friends now. Friends don't let other friends get attacked by ruffians or thugs or-"

"No, I mean why you? Even Chloe would have been better," she said thoughtfully. "At least she's slightly intimidating. You're like…a tiny little asthmatic puppy." His face fell. "A teeny tiny one. Like a super teeny tiny—"

"Yes thank you Gail! I understand." Gail laughed and Dov tried to scowl. "You're such a bitch.

"Eh." She shrugged. The words sounded awfully like a compliment and she couldn't help but smile. "Thank you."

The bus stop Gail used was out the front of the school, a good ten minutes fast walk from the track. The path to it was dark and, despite his terrible jokes, Gail was glad Dov was with her. It did make her uncomfortable walking in the dark and she hadn't realised how much so until she was faced by the prospect of doing so alone.

"Good thing you're so pale, Peck. You practically glow in the dark," he teased. Gail shot him a look that was venomous and disappointed all at once – he wasn't allowed to make fun of her but, at the same time, it wasn't a very good joke and she almost expected better.

"I think the bus has gone by already," she said quietly. Checking the times, she groaned. Twenty minutes ago. Which meant she had a fifteen-minute wait for the next one or, if she wanted to take it on, a twenty-minute walk home. In the dark. With a heavy bag. Alone.

"That's alright," Dov said. He was already making himself comfortable on the bus bench.

"No. You don't have to wait for me."

"I'm not. You're right there," he said, gesturing to her. "Clearly. I'm waiting for the bus."

"My bus?"

"That's right."

"Why?"

"I'm going to catch it."

"Why? It goes in the complete opposite direction to your house."

"No it doesn't," Dov said stubbornly. "So just…sit down and read a book or something."

She did crack open her new biology book. The chapters they were studying were more advanced than anything she had been taught at her old school. Back there, she hadn't been taking advanced biology so not only had she missed the first week of classes here, she was also almost a year behind in that class.

"Hey," Dov said after a few minutes. "I never said thank you."

"For what?" she mumbled, trying to focus on the text.

"For not making a big deal about Chris." Gail chanced a look over at her friend but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were closed, actually, and his head was tilted back against the back of the seat. "I know I didn't really give you an explanation-"

"Chris should probably do that," Gail interrupted quietly.

"Yeah, I know. But he won't and it's not because he doesn't trust you or anything." Why would he? Gail thought. They'd only just met. "Chris has some stuff, bad stuff, going on at home and sometimes he stays with me."

"Dov, I knew that already."

"You did?"

"Uh yeah. It was incredibly obvious."

"Oh. Well, all right then. I'll let Chris tell you anything if he wants to then, okay?" Gail just nodded. That was as it should be. "And you know if you want to talk about anything…" he trailed off and tried to catch her eyes, widening his and raising his brows.

"I'm assuming you're making yourself available for that."

"That's right. Dov Epstein, friend supreme."

"Wow. No. I would rather talk to Chloe. I would rather listen to Chloe all week as she describes the attitudes of all the pets she's ever had."

"Hey! Miss Muffet the hamster was actually kind of cute."

"Oh my god, Dov, what are you?" Gail's nose crinkled and she tugged her legs up onto the bench, leaning back against the wall.

"I am a strong man who loves his girl," he said, utterly unconcerned by her opinion. His phone buzzed loudly in his pocket and, yanking it out, he beamed at the screen.

"Chloe?" Gail guessed. When he nodded, she made a thoughtful little sound. "I made a ringtone just for her. It's a recording of me saying 'ignore this' over and over again." She smiled. Dov looked aghast and also disbelieving so she pulled out her phone to prove it.

Dov shook his head, exasperated. "Why don't you like her?"

She shrugged, focusing on her book again. "I don't not like her," she explained. She fiddled with the corner of the page. "But she's…she's just very different."

"Sure." Dov nodded and smiled dopily. "But that's why I like her."

"Fine but it's what makes it difficult for me to like her. I don't know anyone else who is as loud and perky as your girlfriend and I'm just, I'm not used to it." Gail shrugged and closed her book, relieved when she recognised the headlights that cut through the dark as the bus.

Dov pulled out his keys and stood. "Alright, see you later."

"I thought you said you were catching this one," Gail said, eyes narrowed.

"I lied. My car is over there." He clicked the button on his keys and a car across the street lit up. " That bus doesn't go anywhere near my house. But you would have made me leave if I hadn't said that so…"

"So you lied, got it." Gail smiled. The bus ground to a stop and she had time for one last gibe before she hopped on. "Because it's a dark and scary world and you were going to protect me with your teeny tiny arms." The doors closed behind her and she could just make out the words 'Gail, you're a bitch' before she was whisked away. She laughed.

In the weeks that followed, Gail settled into a routine. Most of it – mornings at the gym three days a week, school, track sessions, home for schoolwork, station internship on Friday nights and weekends, and repeat – was at her mothers command. But there were a precious few moments between those strictly regimented times that belonged to Gail alone.

She watched her favourite soap on the gym television. She chatted to Officer Shaw – Oliver, he kept reminding her – at the precinct and couldn't deny herself a flash of warmth when he nudged his spare donut across the desk to her or when Traci clapped her on the shoulder in thanks for a coffee. There were ten minutes after track when Chris, or now Dov, or both, would walk her to the bus stop – sometimes quiet, sometimes bickering. Then, of course, there were those lunches she shared with her friends, which had started to resemble another lesson since Dov had a new trivia card set. And when Gail went home in the afternoons, still not allowed to accept invitations to their houses, they took it upon themselves to bombard her with texts until she actually turned it off to avoid them.

One moment that had become a staple in Gail's life was Dov escorting her to her third lesson, his class directly opposite. By 'escort' she meant creepily sidling up beside her or trying to sneak up on her or, if he couldn't make it in time, then texting her some stupid trivia question. So, when that time came and went and neither Dov nor an infuriating trivia text arrived, Gail was worried. She made to shrug it away and ignore the anxious feeling that crept up her spine – especially given that the halls were unusually empty – but then she heard the unmistakable sounds of a fight.

She set off at a sprint.

Dov was on the ground when she got there. His lip was bleeding and the skin around his eye was steadily darkening even as she watched. She could also tell that he was struggling for breath and that the pig of a boy standing over him either didn't notice or didn't care.

So Gail did what only Gail could do. The crowd of onlookers, a tight ring of students whom Gail now unconditionally despised for not trying to help Dov, parted as she strode through. She smiled faux-sweetly at the boy-giant standing over her friend.

"Hi," she said softly. "Richard, isn't it?" Her voice was sweet and almost flirty and she clutched her books in front of her demurely. Dov gaped at her – and then gasped for breath. Her eyes flickered to his bag and his asthma puffer and Dov started inching over to it.

"That's right," he grunted. He was a grunter. A boar. Thick nose, slightly upturned like a snout, bloody knuckles, dark eyes, heavy-set build, seemingly no neck – vicious. His eyebrows settled heavily as he frowned. "Get out of the way," he said, seeing that she was slowly moving between him and his victim.

"You look very strong," she commented, ignoring his command. Her voice was quiet and she noticed that all noise had ceased as the bystanders strained to hear what she was saying. Gail felt a tremor run through her – anticipation, maybe. More likely fear. She didn't like the weight of so many eyes and she really didn't like her chances against a boy twice her size. She pressed on. "Why are you fighting him?" A tilt to her mouth – derision. Dov grabbed his inhaler and gave her a thumbs up, gasping a puff of the medicine into his lungs. She relaxed a tiny bit, reassured that he would be okay. "He's so small," she pointed out.

The boy-giant grunted again. "Fucking retard was prancing around with his girl, acting like she was with him outta something other than pity or something. Faggot had it coming." He cracked his knuckles. "Now move. I wasn't done."

Gail wondered where this boy had come from. It was like he had sprung from the television screen, from some show where football players roamed the halls with their prom queen girlfriends and threw nerds into dumpsters. Surely people like him didn't exist in the real world – but here he was and she was standing in his way.

He went to push her aside and the years of Peck training flooded her brain. She let go of her books and

Grab.

Twist.

Knee.

Push.

her books hit the floor with a smack. Then he was on the ground, her knee pressing into the small of her back and his arms forced behind him in a hold her mother would definitely be proud of.

"Okay," she said, still quiet. The audience waited with baited breath. "Listen up, Dick. That guy there? Look at him." She dragged his face up, propping his chin on the ground to look at a wide-eyed Dov. "That's my friend. And he's a very nice person so I am very upset that you would hurt him." She twisted his arm a little, making him cry out. "This is what's going to happen. You are going to apologise to him. His name is Dov Epstein. Then you are going to apologise for your homophobic and disability slurs because it's 2014 and no one cares for that kind of bullshit anymore. Third, you're going to apologise for wasting my time. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he whimpered. She knew from experience that pain was radiating from his joints, wrist and shoulder, and relaxed her hold very slightly.

"Good. Go ahead."

"I'm sorry, Dov Epstein," he said quickly. "And I'm sorry for calling you a fag and a retard because that's not cool and I'm sorry for wasting your time."

Gail waited a moment more before pushing herself off him. "Okay then." She brushed her hands on her jeans and moved over to Dov, kneeling with him to help collect their things.

Here is something one should understand when dealing with teenage boys. They are hormonal creatures. Testosterone floods their system, making them grow muscles and sprout hair and make bad decisions. They suffer from an inflated ego and then, when they feel as though that ego has been wounded, they get angry. And boys like Richard, aka Dick, make bad decisions so frequently that what happened next could hardly be considered a surprise.

Dick pushed himself to his feet and seemed to be deep in thought, his frown cutting a gouge in his forehead. And then he looked up and, seeing Dov about to leave and Gail behind him, he charged.

In an instant, the circle that had begun to disperse closed in around them, trapping Gail in with the boy. Hoots and hollers broke the silence. Gail turned and fell under the weight of the boy, who was already throwing punches. She felt the air in her lungs escape in a pained huff as her back smacked against the floor, her head knocking into the tiles a moment later. But then she was giving as good as she got, using everything she had learnt in her scuffles with her brother. She went shamelessly for his weak spots – slamming her knee into his groin, yanking his pinkie back, smashing her elbow into his face and rolling him off her.

She scrambled to her feet, staggering for a moment as the blood pounded in her skull painfully. She scowled at him. Then arms locked about her chest, holding her arms to her side, and pulled her away from the fight. She started to struggle against this new attacker until she looked over her shoulder and saw that it was her coach. Then she fell silent and still and allowed him to drag her out of the now quickly dispersing fight circle.

Across from her, the football coach had stepped in front of the boy-giant and was berating him, low and angry, jabbing him with a thick finger to the sternum and dragging him away.

"Damn Peck." Swarek whistled. "You don't mess around." He clapped her on the shoulder. "Need to go to the nurse?" he asked, touching his thumb to her cheek. The touch stung and she flinched away from his hand. She was surprised though – she hadn't felt that hit. Adrenaline, probably, had numbed it.

"No," she denied. "No. I'll be fine. I am fine." She shrugged his hand away.

"Fine," he said with an almost identical shrug. "To the principal with you then."

"You too, Epstein," Swarek barked.

"Hey! I only got my face punched in – I didn't do the face punching," he argued.

"And as the face punchee, I'm sure Principal Booth would like to talk with you. Let's go."

Dov and Gail marched side by side through the school, Swarek behind them. They didn't talk but their steps slowly and dragged the closer they got to the office until Swarek was almost pushing them in front of him.

Dick was sitting in a chair already – the most comfortable one – in the waiting room that adjoined to the principal's office. He glared at Dov but, when his gaze drifted to Gail she narrowed her eyes and jerked her chin in a silent command. He flinched and rocketed out of the chair, scurrying to the other wall. Then Gail shoved Dov down into the comfortable seat and took her place standing next to him, staring down the now pale boy opposite.

Swarek snorted.

Gail was almost enjoying herself. Dov was fine, Swarek obviously didn't care and might be slightly impressed by her actions and, despite the slight throbbing in her cheek and the back of her head…and her ribs…and her backside, Gail felt she had done quite well.

Principal Booth disagreed.

"That is so not fair!" Dov yelled. He and Gail were in chairs to the right of Principal Booth, Dick in a chair to the left.

"Violence is just not tolerated here, Miss Peck, Mr Epstein. Mr Ford," she said to the hunched boy.

"Yeah, which is why Gail stopped him! That Hulk of a boy," Dov's arm snapped out to point accusingly at Dick Ford, "was wailing on me and I hadn't even done anything. He just didn't like the way I looked."

"He didn't like the way you looked," Gail agreed quietly, nodding.

"And so he was wailing on me – do you see this?" He pointed to his busted lip, swelling fat and thick, and his black eye. "He did that. And I was like a minute away from an asthma attack when Gail stepped in."

"I see that, Mr Epstein. I do. And I assure you that I am taking it into consideration concerning Mr Ford's punishment. However, Miss Peck, it just wouldn't be fair to let you off with just a warning." Gail nodded. Worth it. "Which is why your parents have been informed of the situation. They will be here shortly and then we will discuss consequences." And suddenly, it almost wasn't worth having saved Dov's life.

"Please, Principal Booth, my mother really doesn't have to come down. I'm fine and I'll take the punishment, I promise. Detention, suspension, whatever. Please."

Principal Booth took the plea, which bordered on desperate, and pursed her lips thoughtfully. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Miss Peck, but I really must talk to your mother. It isn't only about punishment, dear, though I will agree that you are looking at suspension. This is about making sure that you know and your family knows that violence is unacceptable."

"I do know. I do. I'm so sorry and it'll never happen again. I swear." Dov was looking askance at her, confused by the tone dripping in sincerity. That wasn't the Gail he knew. But he also knew a Gail who was perpetually, arrogantly relaxed, slightly aloof, and held herself apart from everyone and he had always just assumed that was who she was. Now, she was near shaking in her seat.

"Hold on a second – Gail protected me," Dov found himself saying. "She disabled Dick – sorry, Richard," he corrected himself with a sneer to the boy on the other side of the room, "without hurting him at all and made him apologise for being an asshole but then when she let him go he attacked her. She was defending herself and me!"

"Mr Epstein-"

"It's not fair – Gail was doing a good thing. She shouldn't be punished for that."

"And I will discuss what occurred separately with each of you and with your parents, you can be assured of that Mr Epstein. But I also do not condone insubordination and you are one word away from suspension yourself. Do you understand me? Think carefully about how you answer me." There was an iron undertone to her voice that would have impressed Gail – she thought the woman was all purple clothes and purple accessories and purple lip-sticked smiles, but she could be tough when she needed to be – if Gail hadn't already drawn back into herself.

"Yes ma'am," came the identical murmurs from her students.

"Principal Booth?" came a timid voice from the door. "Mrs Peck is here," the secretary said.

"Send her in," the principal said. "Mr Epstein, Mr Ford, wait outside until your parents arrive and I call you in. Miss Peck, you may stay."

The boys, skulking out of the office, were the first to see the thunderous expression on Elaine Peck's face and to see her starched police uniform. Ford stopped short when he saw her, Dov running into his back. They shared identical gulps of terror and Dov turned to see Gail, already ashen, pale even further. She stood, nodding to her mother, and set her shoulders. Dov sent her an encouraging smile but she didn't see it.

"Gail," he heard her mother say before the door closed. "What is the meaning of this?"

Dick Ford's mother arrived to pinch his ear and make him sink further into his seat. Both of Dov's parents turned up to worry over him and his injuries. But all Dov wanted was to see how Gail turned out. When she strode out of the room, following her mother, he shrugged out of his parents hold and raced over to her.

"Did you get out?" is the first question he asked. "Your mom is like some super cop, right?" He had googled her. "So did you get out?"

"Why would I get out of punishment? She's a police officer. She lives to lock people up," Gail snapped. "Get out of my face, Epstein."

"Whoa, sorry." He held his hands up in immediate surrender – this was an angry Gail that he hadn't seen before. "So what did you get?"

"Suspension for the rest of the week and detention for the week after." Dov's mouth fell open. That was three days – and totally unfair given that Dick over there had started the whole thing.

"God, Gail, that sucks. I'm sorry."

"You should be. If you'd been able to look after yourself, Epstein, I wouldn't have been in trouble at all," she said, a harsh edge to her voice. Her icy stare, for the first time, actually scared him a little and she took the time to scowl at him as well before leaving him in the waiting room. Her mother gestured her over and she slipped into an expressionless mask before joining her.

Late that night, a message lit up Dov's phone and he checked it with bleary eyes. Gail Peck: Sorry, was all it read. He grinned. She didn't hate him! He gave a little cheer, which made Chris groan and throw a pillow over at him, mumbling 'shut up, Dov'.

Dov: Thanks for saving my life.

Gail: Whatever. You owe me.

Dov: Goodnight Gail :)

Gail: Ew. Gross. Don't use smileys with me

Dov: :) :)

Gail: I'm ignoring you. I hope your face hurts.

Disclaimer: I borrowed some lines from Tangled because I thought it would be funny. I hope this was okay. Reviews are lovely. Happy reading, readers :)