A/N: Disclaimer: I do not own rookie blue! Hey, guys! Sorry about the late update! Hope you enjoy, and reviews are much appreciated. :D
"What? They can't say they still love each other and then not get back together. That's not poetic, that's tragic."
Andy glared at the T.V. screen, the end credits of her favourite show rolling down the screen. A stirring sensation of disappointment and anxiety pulsed inside her.
"Isn't that the definition of an epic love story? That it's tragic?" Traci reasoned, cradling her herbal tea.
Andy looked over at her. Traci had her legs slung over the arm of the love seat.
"But it's so…ugh. Like, there's enough pain in the world, there have to be happy endings. Stuff like this may be more realistic, but I like having hope that not everything is lost."
Andy sculled the rest of her wine down and dragged herself off the sofa. As if this week hadn't been hard enough, her favourite drama show had to go off the rails as well.
Of course she knew that it wasn't that important; it was just the timing. Nothing felt like it was going right at the moment.
Andy was neck-deep in this case. She didn't go a night without dreaming about the victims and the horrible ways in which they died. Every step she took, every breath, was this case.
Even now, it seeped back to her attention as she placed her empty wineglass on the dish rack. She caught sight of the case file she'd left on the kitchen counter.
Lionel Peters and Carl DeLuca. They could be the key to solve this. Even if neither of them were guilty, they still might hold vital information and they just didn't know it.
She gazed at the file, thinking about both young men. Lionel had a girlfriend and Carl had ceased his tutoring lessons two months before Katie was murdered. Andy hadn't been able to get hold of Charlotte Hobbs yet, but she'd managed to find a phone number for Carl's mother. She backed up Carl's story; he had been doing better at school plus he spent a lot of his time back then at his convalescent uncle's farm in Southern Ontario.
Andy broke from her reverie when she heard Traci get up from her seat, groaning tiredly. She quickly piled her mail on top of the file. She wasn't authorised to have it. She shoved the pile of mail, papers, a book, and the file into her backpack before Traci saw.
"I guess I'm gonna head home now. Feeling pretty pooped."
Andy spun around and pulled her in for a hug.
"Thanks for coming over." Andy sighed.
Traci rubbed her back affectionately.
"That's okay. Call me whenever, okay?" she pulled back.
"Back at you. You're the mom-to-be. Any weird cravings or new sex kinks, you gotta call me right away and let me know."
Traci laughed and gave her wink as she picked up her purse and strode out the door. Andy shuffled slowly over to the window and watched Traci get into her car and drive away. Something niggled in the back of her mind that left her feeling on edge. Now that she was alone, the dark anxiety was seeping back into her conscious.
She closed the curtains then and went and locked her front door.
She gnawed on her lip as she got ready for bed. She wondered if Phillip had been making any progress. She also wondered if Luke had noticed that she hadn't even touched those phone records yet. Hopefully not; she didn't feel like getting chewed out, especially when she was having trouble convincing herself that what she was doing was right.
Every other moment Andy was almost certain of her instincts, and then she would think back about what she felt, what she'd done, and then thought the opposite. Like she'd been caught in the heat of the moment and maybe she wasn't as sure as she thought she was.
Luke's cynicism wasn't helping, either, nor was his stubbornness to accepting Andy's theories.
Maybe after this case was finished, he'd be back to normal, too. She didn't want him to leave again as long as he stopped being a jackass.
Andy's head thumped as she put her head down.
People were confusing. Everybody had an ulterior motive. It's like nobody was ever honest.
It gave her a headache.
Andy was straight on the coffee when she got to work the next morning. She didn't have time for breakfast when she'd left home, so she'd sunk to eating the stale donuts left over in the kitchen.
"Be careful." Sam came in then. "Oliver bit into one of those this morning and nearly chipped a tooth. God knows how long they've been sitting there."
Andy examined it, debating whether or not she was desperate enough. She sighed and dropped it into the trash can then pushed the box in after it.
She picked up her coffee and rested it against her chin so she could breathe in the aroma. Sam was fiddling with the machine beside her to make his own cup.
"So," he said suddenly, loudly.
Andy looked at him.
"What?"
"You tell me. You're completely out of it. Since when do you try to eat stale donuts in the break room? You sleeping okay?"
Andy made a face and chuckled mirthlessly.
"Sure, I am." She pushed away from the bench to avoid any more interrogation.
She didn't want Sam knowing she was sort of losing it. He'd ask her to pull herself off the case, which she wouldn't do. And then he'd probably go to Frank. Not to stab her in the back but because he cared.
God, why does he have to care?! She groaned internally as he followed her into parade.
She could feel his eyes on her back.
"Andy," Luke's voice bellowed from the detective's office.
She looked back, and so did Sam. Then they shared a look. She swallowed hard and made to head over. Sam caught her arm gently.
"You okay?"
She nodded and he let go, giving her a quick smile. The muscles in his jaw tensed. Andy kept nodding to herself until she got into Luke's office, preparing for a full on bitch session.
He looked up from his paper work, which was all he ever seemed to be doing these days.
"Hey," he acknowledged her.
Okay, she thought. So, maybe this won't be so bad.
"How far have you gotten with those phone records? Anything yet?" he was signing his name on the bottom of a form.
"Um, nothing yet. Sorry. I'm still going." She lied. "What about you?" she pointed back to him.
He looked up at her, grinning. He looked like the old Luke for a second. He looked happier now than he'd looked in a long time.
"Am I missing something?" she murmured when he didn't respond.
He exploded then.
"We got a match!" he pointed his biro at her as if to emphasise it.
"You got a match on the drugs you found on Phillip?" her eyes went wide.
Of course they would be the same. Of course Eric was working for Phillip. But this was happening too fast.
Luke nodded and clapped his hands together, ecstatic.
"Couldn't have done it without you, McNally." He strode forward and she quickly put her coffee cup down before he engulfed her in a hug.
"We've got a warrant for his arrest." He mumbled into her hair.
She patted his back awkwardly and he let her go.
"I want you to come with me."
"Uhh…" she tried to think of an excuse but her mind blanked.
"Come on," he stepped back to grab his coat and then put his hand on her back, guiding her out of the office.
His hand didn't move even as they walked by everyone in the parade room. She caught Sam's eye on the way out but couldn't read his expression. Probably confusion, and a little bit of suspicion.
"Shouldn't we have more bodies with us? What if he's hostile?"
Luke threw his head back and laughed. It looked surreal, and a bit over the top. He'd passed the point of sleep deprivation and was knocking on insanity's door right now.
"We'll be fine. The brothers don't put up a fight with cops on the street. They only rip us to shreds in court."
Luke let Andy drive, surprisingly. Whenever they had a case together, it was usually Luke that drove. It was his way of having control when the situation was out of control, especially when they were together.
They stopped at Couperet's house first. The door was open.
It was lavish, inside and out. It was also messy.
Phillip obviously didn't clean up after himself much. The place was a pigsty. Andy hated it, but got her gun out when Luke motioned for her to. He got out his gun and they searched through the house. The met back in the kitchen towards the back of the house and heard a thumping noise, like something sharp against something dull.
An axe against wood.
They ran to the back door and opened it.
Phillip was in the backyard, cutting firewood.
"Put down the axe, Couperet." Luke said sternly as Phillip looked up only in slight surprise.
He immediately dropped the axe about four feet away from him and walked close to the pair.
"I'm sorry," he pulled his hands up to place them behind his head without either of them asking. Andy guessed he was used to the protocol.
She holstered her gun and gave Phillip a look as Luke held his gun to him still. Phillip winked at her and she gritted her teeth as she walked around him, pulled one hand down from his head at a time and cuffed them.
Luke finally put his gun away then and pulled a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket, holding it up in front of Phillip's face.
"We've got a warrant for your arrest, Phillip Couperet. Under suspicion of drug trafficking, and suspicion of conspiracy to murder Eric Jorgensen and Tara Hunter."
Andy guided Phillip through the carport and into booking. She searched him and claimed all his belongings, dropping them in a plastic tray by the desk as Luke watched.
"Put him into a cell for now. Let him stew for a bit." Luke ordered, unfolding his arms and disappearing through the door.
Andy watched him leave and then sighed.
"That guy is a jackass." Phillip said matter-of-factly.
Andy sniggered but then caught herself and shook her head.
"You shouldn't be making jokes, Phillip. This is serious." She murmured, unlocking the cell and pulling it open. She unlocked his cuffs and he walked in, rubbing at his wrists. Andy pulled the cell door closed.
"I know," he said, turning around to face her and curling his hands around the bars.
Andy watched him for a moment and he looked back just as levelly.
"You're in deep shit, Phillip." She leaned closer so nobody would hear her. "Pull yourself together and get a lawyer." She hissed, backing away and fleeing before he could say anything else.
So far he hadn't given away anything about their conversations. Andy was peaking. She felt as rigid as a pole as she walked back into the barn.
Phillip Couperet was a criminal, and who knows, maybe he had killed. But he didn't kill Eric and Tara. As far as Andy was concerned, Phillip would never kill kids. Not that that should redeem him, but at least it cleared his name on this count.
Phillip wasn't psychotic; he valued human life. He valued his sister. There is no way he could do this.
Andy was sure Tara and Eric's murders were linked to Katie's. Phillip couldn't have been the one to kill his sister. He was innocent.
Andy spotted her thick folder of Phillip's phone records and sat down at the desk, grabbing a stack of pages and dropping them in front of her.
She looked up at Luke's desk. He was busy, his head bent over his work. Everybody around her was busy and quiet. It was only her that was having this internal scream.
It was loud inside her head and she couldn't focus.
She propped her elbows on the desk and cradled her head in her hands, frustrated.
"Hey," Sam put his hand on her shoulder.
She gasped, eyes wide.
"Sorry." He apologised, noticing how she'd gone pale as a sheet.
"What is it? If it's about arresting Couperet, I don't wanna talk about it." she asked breathlessly.
Sam shook his head without confusion. He must have found out already.
"There's something I think you'll want to be a part of." He said instead.
Andy frowned, puzzled.
Sam motioned for her to follow him.
"Are we the only people here?" Andy asked the priest as he clasped his hands together.
"Yes, dear."
She pressed her lips together, swallowing that ball of sorrow and pity and anger. The wind whipped unforgivingly around them. They were up on a hill in the cemetery, catching the full brunt of the chill.
The trees around them were naked and skeletal. It all looked fitting for the occasion. Andy glanced behind her then as Sam came walking up the hill, holding a bouquet of lilies.
Her mouth fell open slightly as she watched him place them on Janice's coffin.
Sam fell back into place beside her then, and the priest began his speech.
His words faded into the background as Andy closed her eyes and felt the warm signature of tears falling down her cheeks. She took a deep breath, and without looking, felt for Sam's hand, grasping it.
He squeezed her hand back tightly.
She couldn't believe he'd remembered the lilies.
She shook slightly in the wind, the cold, and the sadness. Janice Forester was finally being laid to rest, as the priest vowed.
"Next to her beloved son."
Andy's eyes darted toward the priest, then behind him.
Here lies Nathan Forester
Beloved Son and Friend
"To be nobody but
yourself in a world
which is doing its best day and night to make you like
everybody else means to fight the hardest battle
which any human being can fight and never stop fighting."
-e.e. Cummings
Nathan Forester's grave stone resonated with Andy. Janice must have chosen that poem for her son. Her last message to him was that she understood. He fought hard. So did Janice. They fought just to stay themselves, to stay human. Nathan fought the drugs. Janice fought grief.
Andy was waging a losing battle with her own demons. She fought hard to be a good cop without losing herself in the process.
There were many ways in which people could lose themselves when it feels like the whole world is trying to get you to be something that you're not. To Andy, sometimes it felt like the world was working against her; so many things would get in her way, cause her to make a decision opposite to what she planned, possibly changing who she really is in the process.
They lowered Janice's coffin into the ground slowly. Sam's wreath sat atop it, so Janice knew that somebody cared, somebody would miss her now that she's gone.
Andy looked away before they started piling the dirt into the grave. She let go of Sam's hand and rubbed her own hands over her face as if she could rub the day off.
"I feel awful, you know?" she muttered into her cupped hands.
"Nobody likes funerals." Sam offered softly.
She shook her head in response.
"No, it's just…I feel like this was more for me than it was for Janice. It felt like it was more to ease my conscience than to really send her off. He didn't say anything about her. I barely knew her and she just left."
She looked at Sam them, hoping he didn't catch the unintended meaning of her last words.
"Are we still talking about Janice?"
Andy looked down at her boots and shrugged. That had kind of slipped out, but she wasn't ready to admit that she felt some weird similarity of affection towards Janice as she did to her estranged mother.
"Listen," Sam continued, "Funerals are never for the dead anyway. They're for the living. It's just a way to say goodbye, to make us feel and know that we won't forget them. We did that."
Andy wiped at her eye and nodded.
"How come you're so good with this stuff?" she asked accusingly.
Sam just smiled easily.
"I know that you're gonna feel guilty no matter what. I just want to help you overcome it. You're a good cop and a good person."
"Really?" she murmured seriously, feeling more vulnerable than she had in a while.
"The best." Sam clarified.
That made her smile.
Andy looked back at their cruiser.
"We should probably get back."
Sam and Andy got back to the barn at eleven.
Chris was working the front desk when they came in and he called out for her when he caught sight of her.
"Hey! Andy!" he motioned with his head for her to come over.
Sam shrugged and made his way over to the kitchen for more coffee.
"What's up?" she slapped her hands down on the reception desk.
"Oh, uh," he fumbled with a stack of papers in front of him before he plucked a sticky note from the pile and handed it to her.
She took it and read.
"She said her name was Charlotte Hobbs and that she wanted to talk to you about a Lionel." Chris told her.
She glanced at him then back at the note.
"Thanks, Chris." She said absently as she walked back into the pit.
She dialled the number for Charlotte Hobbs scrawled across the piece of paper.
"Hello?" a woman's voice answered.
"Hi, is this Charlotte Hobbs?" Andy replied, taking a seat at her desk.
"Yeah, whose this?" the voice on the other end replied.
"This is Andy McNally from fifteen division. You left a message at the station for me to contact you about Lionel Peters, your ex?"
"Yeah, um. I was friends with Lionel in college and he told me he needed me to give him an alibi. I don't wanna get in any trouble, so I figured I'd let you know personally that we were never together. Honestly, we only hung out a couple times Freshman year."
Andy's heart sped up in response.
"Do you know why he would lie to us?" she asked.
Charlotte sighed loudly.
"I honestly have no idea. I don't really want to get involved."
"Thank you, Miss Hobbs." Andy murmured, internally dismissing any chance of interrogating the woman. "If he tries to contact you again, please let us know." She pressed the end call button and scanned the room for Swarek. She spotted him coming out of the kitchen with two cups of coffee. She smiled as he handed her one. She caught him eyeing the sticky note as he brought the cup to his lips. She folded it into her palm.
"Something wrong?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
Andy breathed in and hesitated, the words on the tip of her tongue.
"Maybe I've been colouring outside the lines." She provided vaguely, setting her coffee down.
Sam nodded once.
"Okay." Was all he said as he waited for her to specify.
"I just need to borrow the squad keys." She bit her lip and noticed how his eyes darted down to her mouth then back to her eyes.
"You know what? I feel like a bit of rebellion today, too."
"You wanna come with me?" she asked, surprised as they fell into step together.
Sam produced his keys and spun the key ring around his forefinger.
"You're not colouring outside the lines without me there."