Disclaimer: Own no one in the World of Wolf. Original characters, I'll own up to.
Chapter 10 – Foreign
"He's where?!"
Lennie paced back and forth in the waiting room determined not to punch a hole in the wall. He blamed himself for finding Erin, for not setting up a safer forum for the family to heal itself. He blamed himself and cursed Olivet for her role in this. What the hell kind of shrink was she to not keep something like this from happening? Hell, Skoda would have ensured some sort of safeguard!
"He's on a 72-hour hold, Lennie. For his own protection," Olivet said, still rattled from the confrontation.
Good, he thought, she's still suffering for her part. "For his protection, you say? He's been locked up in who-knows-where for over a year and you send him to a lock-up facility? Are you nuts?!" He stormed towards the door. "I'm getting him out of there!"
"You can't," she said. "I signed him in and-."
"I'll find someone to sign him out! Skoda wouldn't have screwed him up this badly!"
She sighed. "Lennie-."
"No! You should have done something to help him! Now he's got more shrinks screwing up his already messed up state of mind. Go to hell, Elizabeth!" With that, Lennie Briscoe set off on the warpath to bring Jack back home.
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Emil Skoda watched Jack sleep on the sofa, knowing full well the sleep was a lie. Shock stilled the now overly-medicated man before them. Of the reports he could get his hands on, the observations – or misinterpretations as Skoda saw them, were discouraging to say the least. The doctors would have committed Jack had Skoda not stepped in.
He knew Lennie's irritation was justified, but, so was Elizabeth's attempt, and most certainly Erin's anger. Now, he wondered how far the object of their concern had slipped back into the mental prison they all had tried to free him from. To make matters worse, the district attorney was making unrealistic demands of Jack that forced the officers at both the 2-7 and the SVU unit to run defense against.
"He hasn't eaten a thing," Lennie said, handing Emil a drink. "Worse, he stopped taking his medication-."
"After this, I don't blame him," Emil said.
"When the first perp was arrested," Lennie finished.
Emil sighed. They were going to be back at square one at this rate.
"Any news about the investigations?" Emil asked changing the subject.
Lennie nodded, a look of renewed determination in his eyes. "SVU caught Drake. They have him on plenty of charges and were going to forego Jack having to identify him."
"Anything else?" Emil asked.
"Yep. Their A.D.A. is as much a pain in the neck as Rubirosa. She wants Jack to identify Marolf for the additional charges and expects him there sometime today."
"Too bad," Skoda said, "Doctor's orders – he's not fit to go anywhere."
Lennie sat on the edge of the coffee table and took a deep breath. "Erin hasn't returned any of my calls. Danielle's getting the same result."
"Give her some time. I'm sure she's just as shaken as-."
"Don't insult my intelligence, Doc," Lennie said. "Right now, Jack thinks she's dead. I can't get her to see how important it is to tell him otherwise."
Emil let out a sigh. For now, neither he nor Elizabeth scheduled Jack for an appointment. They both agreed to wait until their patient was 'stable' enough. Emil found that thought laughable. His patient and one-time colleague was mentally shattered and had refused a complete physical – something Emil felt guilty about not asking Lennie to take care of.
As if the former detective read his mind, Lennie said, "I've got an appointment set up with my doctor. He knows the deal and has agreed to see Jack at the clinic. Trick will be getting him there."
"When?" Emil asked. "I could probably lend a hand."
"End of the week," Lennie said. "I've got Ed to help. Need to make him feel useful, too, you know."
Skoda nodded. "You've got your hands full."
"Can't expect me to sit on them just because of retirement, can you?" Lennie said, with a hint of the trademark smile Emil realized he had missed in their rare talks.
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The truth behind the excuse of a poker game was known to all around the table: Danielle, Anita, Alex, Munch, Ed, and Fin. Lennie alternately surveyed his cards and his friends, wondering how high the stakes were when all was said and done.
Joe had seen fit to give Lennie a heads up about Ed working the Barnes angle, one that both of the older men felt certain was pointless. On the positive side, Cassady had found some evidence to link Drake to the arson. That still left the mystery of how Jack vanished in the first place – last seen leaving the office en route to his vacation destination.
Given the man's habits, not unlike Lennie's, the destination was never given, nor a contact number left, considering how foreign the concept of vacations was to the workaholics. For all practical purposes, Jack had left with those last seeing him assuming he'd be relaxing the next day.
Studying the young A.D.A, Lennie wondered if it wasn't time for Ms. Borgia to take time away, either, lamenting the fact that McCoy wasn't mentoring this young woman as it was meant to be.
Jack slept in the other room. Or at least, Lennie hoped he slept. The last couple of days were draining as Lennie listened to Jack call out in his sleep, 'Please, I beg you! I bet you!' along with 'She's dead.'
"What did the doctor have to say yesterday?" Munch asked Ed and Lennie.
"Before or after calling Lennie 'Miracle Max?'" Ed asked. "I raise you five."
"Thanks a lot, Ed," Lennie retorted. "It took a while to calm him down and longer still to keep him…well, still."
Danielle shook her head. "Emil told me what the report said and it described him as practically catatonic. What happened in there?"
"At the hospital or at the clinic?" Lennie asked. "They had him in restraints at the hospital. Some nonsense about how the old scars on his wrists were evidence that he might try to commit suicide. As soon as he was strapped down, he was 'perfectly fine' so said 'Dr. Frankenstein.'"
"Other than that, the laundry list of injuries…" Ed said shaking his head.
Lennie finished, "Add to that, assault."
A silence hung in the air as the others took that in, no other explanation necessary.
"On a positive note, we were able to get him some medication for his migraines," said Ed.
Lennie, Munch, Danielle and Alex folded their hands as soon Anita raised the bet again. "I didn't know Jack suffered migraines," Alex said.
"You'll get your own soon enough," Munch said. "It goes with the job."
Danielle nodded. "Jack's suffered from migraines for as long as I've known him. I can't tell you how many bottles of Excedrin he used to go through. He orders his medicine on-line, but I can't tell you what it is."
"Hey, Danielle," Anita said, "we should probably get ready to go here, soon." She tossed her wager in to match her only challenger, Fin. "I think the boys here are about to contribute to the gasoline fund."
"Don't be so sure of yourself," Fin said. "How do you know you're not contributing to my retirement fund?"
"Because I'm playing against a gentleman, that's why," she countered.
"Someone lied to you," Munch said. "Oh, wait, that's the whole point of this game, isn't it? What tells give away the lies?
Ed shook his head, in part to the duel, in part to something else. "I can't shake the feeling that someone we've got isn't giving us the whole story. Harlan, for one thing-."
"No shop talk, Ed," Lennie said, "at least not within earshot, please." He gestured a thumb towards the bedroom door. "I know all those meds are supposed to help him, but why chance it?'
"Isn't it a five hour drive to Portland?" Alex asked.
"One way, sure," Danielle said. "But that's plenty of time for us to practice our possible persuasions to share with Erin."
"May I join you?" Alex asked.
Anita shook her head. "Sorry, but it's a mother and guilt thing and you need a bit of experience in both."
"In that case," Munch said, "I can tag along for the guilt factor. I'm great at-."
"No," three voices answered in unison. Munch gave Lennie a disapproving look.
"Et tu, Brute?" he complained.
Lennie deadpanned, "You're the theories generator, so how about helping us guys – and lady – here with some suggestions, huh?" They all watched Anita gather the winnings before her. "Besides, if she's as good with the 'mother-card' as she is with these cards, what good could you do?"
Ed and Lennie helped the ladies with their coats as Alex and Fin cleared the table. Munch took a spot on the couch and began brainstorming possible hypothesizes to the identity of the other captors. As the other three men sat in the living room, Alex excused herself.
"I'll leave you Lone Gunmen to your discussion, if that's all right." She took a few tentative steps towards the bedroom. After slight nod from Lennie, she entered the dark room.
---
She sat on the edge of the bed, noting the covers and a pillow were over his head as he lay on his side, and took one of his hands in hers. When she applied to work for the D.A.s office, it was with the hope of working with McCoy. Lost opportunities, she thought.
When he stirred, she got up to leave. He tightened his grip. "Don't worry;" he whispered. "I'm awake,"
"You should be resting," Alex said. She wanted to add, 'You should be in your office where you belong, too,' but held it back. "Migraine?" she asked, combing her free hand through his hair.
"No," he said. "Took a pill for that; don't know which one there're so many. "They're either going to cure me or kill me, don't know which on that one, either."
Alex frowned, hoping he was referring to the drugs, not the people around him.
He turned over towards her but kept his eyes closed. "Poor choice of words, sorry," he said, "definitely the drugs talking."
"They don't always work, though, do they?" Alex said, hoping he'd confide in her.
"No. They don't always work," he repeated. "Some things do, though," he said pausing, "sometimes."
"For example?" she prompted.
Jack's breathing grew softer and shallower. "You're here. I… I…"
"You're safe," Alex whispered, before leaning over to kiss him atop his forehead.
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Eliot Stabler watched as Fin wrote down a list of names. "Don't tell me that's the dreaded list," he said.
"Got a hunch," Fin said. "The names McCoy told us were all diminutives of names we eventually found. So…"
Eliot finished the thought. "Taking our original list and altering it just might jog his memory, got it. Oh, that reminds me," he said digging a piece of paper out of his pocket, "Fontana asked if we had a 'Jackie' on our list. Do you have a Jacqueline on there?"
Fin made a face. "Nope, neither first nor middle name."
"All right," Eliot said.
Cragen stepped out and called, "Eli-," only to be interrupted by another officer. "What?" Cragen motioned Eliot to still come forward and report.
Fin muttered a curse. "I hope I'm wrong," he said more to himself.
Eliot didn't have a clue what Fin was referring to. "Knowing our luck, pal? I doubt it." He went to Cragen's office just as George stopped by Fin's desk.
"Hey, Doc, let me ask you something," Fin said once Eliot was in Cragen's Office.
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"You don't have to do this," Lennie said. "I've a doctor's note even, so-."
As expected, Munch was the first one to meet them. Benson and A.D.A Novak were behind him. Stabler kept his distance as Cragen showed them the way to the line-up room.
"Take your time," Cragen said.
Jack couldn't help but think how similar the two supervisors – Cragen and Van Buren – were. He looked through the one-way glass and saw him. "Number four," he said.
"You're sure," Cragen said.
"Number four," he repeated, forcing himself to keep the tidal wave at bay.
Casey Novak nodded. "That will be all," she said.
Jack wondered if the cold, curt personality was a generational or gender thing with the new A.D.A.s. Either that, or he was just too old.
He wavered slightly and felt two strong hands grab him by the arms. "This way," Benson said as she led him to a nearby interrogation room.
He sat down and hoped the lightheadedness would pass soon. This was part of the reason why Lennie tried to protect him, Jack told himself.
"I'm fine," he said, placing his hands on the table for stability. It dawned on him that he had a few far too many visits to interrogation rooms since this began. Each time, he felt a step closer back to… Stop it, he told himself.
"No, you're not," Lennie said, irritation clear in his voice. "We're-."
"May I talk to Detective Stabler?" Jack asked. "Please?"
The surprised expressions from the others barely faze him. He knew from his last visit that there was something to the distance from the other detective, something more than what he sensed from the teams at the 2-7. He suspected Munch knew more than he was letting on, but hinting at just enough to let Jack know he knew.
No. He had to get it out while he could. Seeing Marolf forced a pending crash that would drown Jack for sure if he tried to stay silent. "Please?" he repeated.