Just to reiterate, I own nothing you recognise, nor do I profess to be any kind of expert in anything.
Enjoy :)
London
The shower felt good.
The sensation of the water drumming against her head almost, but not quite, blurred out the actual pounding in her skull, the beat that, once again, told her that she had drank too much. She had thought that not recognising anyone would have been a blessing. That she would have felt alright about it. But in her head, she had seen him in front of her, a face, blurred beyond recognition, could feel her heart thudding in her chest, could hear her own voice screaming...and then the sound of the gunshot, almost like a firecracker.
She thought she had tucked it away, compartmentalised it, as she struggled to rid her mind of Edward and Lily and little Jack. Maybe she had, to a point, but now it was back. The memory...the pain.
The alcohol had done nothing to alleviate it. All it had done was dull her other senses and lead her, once again, to make arguably unwise choices.
She heard the bathroom door opening. "You ok in there?"
"Fine," she forced herself to reply.
"You want a towel?"
Gingerly, she slid to the other edge of the bathtub and peered around the shower curtain. He was standing in front of the mirror in his briefs, wiping away the steam and reaching for the shaving foam. He shook the bottle then squirted some out into his hand and started lathering his face.
Brian...I think.
"There's a towel there you can use," he gestured to the hook by the side of the shower. "I can give you a lift into the city if you want. I've got the car today."
"No...no that's ok," she replied, sliding back behind the curtain and turning off the water. "I'll need to go back to my place before I go to work anyway." She paused. "What time is it?"
"Just after half seven."
Shit.
She waited, suddenly feeling anxious about sliding back the curtain and stepping out of the bathtub, even if there was a convenient towel nearby, and then reminding herself how ridiculous that anxiety was given she had spent the night with him. She reached around the curtain and unhooked the towel, pulling it around herself before moving the curtain back and stepping out. "Thanks for letting me use the shower."
"You're welcome," he said. "Any time."
She moved past him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom where she hurriedly dried her body and then used the towel to take the dampness out of her hair, before reaching for her clothes. By the time she was dressed, he had finished shaving and she started slightly when she saw him standing in the doorway. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hold you back."
"You haven't held me back," he reassured her. "My shift doesn't start until ten anyway so I've got plenty time." He moved past her over to the wardrobe. "You sure you don't want a lift? It's honestly no trouble."
"No, thank you. I need to go home and get changed. If you can just point me in the direction o the nearest tube station I'll be fine."
"Ok," he turned and smiled at her as he buttoned up his shirt. "There's one just around the corner. Should take about twenty minutes to get into the city."
"Thanks."
"Are you going now?" he stopped her as she turned for the door. "Don't you want some breakfast first? I do a mean poached egg."
Her stomach lurched slightly at the mention of food and she shook her head, "Thanks, but I'd better get going." She paused, suddenly feeling awkward. "Umm...thanks for last night, I guess."
"Thank you. It's been a while for me if you must know. The job gets in the way of any kind of decent social life and unless a woman's in the same line of work, they often don't understand about the shifts. They think once you're in CID it should be 9-5."
"I can imagine."
He paused and took a step towards her. "Are you sure you're going to be alright? I mean, I know you didn't pick anyone out of the pictures but you were pretty shaken up."
"I'll be fine, honestly. I really should go..."
"What about your number? I'd really like to see you again."
"I don't think that's a good idea," she said, turning away again. "But thank you all the same."
"Evelyn..."
She didn't stop to hear what else he might have to say. Making her way down the hall she lifted her bag from where she had carelessly dropped it the previous night and then opened the front door, the bright morning sunshine hitting her in the face.
The O'Connell meeting was at twelve.
She couldn't let anyone down.
Only myself, she thought as she hurried down the street in the direction he had described. That's allowed.
New York
"I'm pretty sure I know why you're here and it isn't to watch me demolish a witness on the stand."
Ben paused, slightly caught off guard. When he had called Jack's office that morning, hoping to speak with him, his secretary had told him that he had already left for court. Another man might have waited until a more conducive time, but having brooded over the issue all of the previous evening, he knew it couldn't wait. Besides, there were only so many places in the courthouse Jack could be and he had lucked out on the second attempt by finding him in the mens' room, still limping on one crutch.
"Ok, why am I here?"
"Why don't you tell me and then I'll tell you if I was correct."
Ben followed him back out into the court rotunda, busy as it was with people going about their daily business. "I don't want Evelyn to testify."
"I thought as much."
"You don't need her. She can't identify either of the suspects..."
"You're jumping the gun a bit, aren't you?" Jack interrupted him. "They're only being arraigned this afternoon. We haven't even been to the Grand Jury yet."
"I don't want her to testify before the Grand Jury either."
"Ben..."
"I mean it Jack. She's been through enough and if she can't identify them then what would be the point?"
"You're seriously asking me that? Come on, you've been a prosecutor longer than I have. You know damn well that just because she didn't make an identification doesn't mean that she doesn't have value as a witness. She was the main victim for God's sake. Not to mention the fact that the only way a motive makes sense here is if someone in the Lucchese family ordered the hit to take place to get to Edward Burns. Now, if Evelyn doesn't testify, how do we even begin to establish that?"
"Well then you need to get Scarpetta to roll. Offer him a plea to assault in exchange for his testimony against Lucci for the attempted murder charge."
"How does that help us? Even if he's prepared to do that, it doesn't take us any closer to nailing Robert O'Reilly, who's clearly in this up to his neck, or anyone in the family."
"Motive isn't part of the prima facie case."
"I'm sorry, I didn't realise you'd started lecturing already," Jack turned towards the courtroom.
"Look..." Ben stepped in front of him. "I want the bastard who shot Evelyn, I do. Frankly, I don't care about who ordered it or why. I just want the man who pulled the trigger."
"Good thing this isn't your case then."
"Please...Jack, these people are dangerous. You know that as well as I do."
Jack paused, "This is because of Ann Madsen isn't it?"
"No..."
"You're afraid what happened to her might happen to Evelyn."
"I needed Ann Madsen," Ben insisted. "Without her, I didn't have a case against Steve Green. You don't need Evelyn to make a case against Antonio Lucci!"
"And would you be saying this if it wasn't Evelyn we were talking about?"
"Jack..."
"Ben, like I said, they haven't even been arraigned yet. Why don't you let me consider the evidence and then make a decision as to how best to proceed, ok?"
"But..."
"I'm late for court. I really have to go."
XXXX
I need to protect you. I can't let you go through this. I can't. I don't care what you think about me or even what you think I think about you. I need to know that you're safe and that they can't get to you. I need to make up for all the times before that I let you down. Even now...even with you leaving me, I can't help but think that, somehow, you left because I had let you down...because I wasn't able to give you what you thought you needed.
Lord, does any of this even make sense? Sometimes I think I'm just writing gibberish that you're never going to read anyway, so what's the point?
"Ben?"
He started, suddenly remembering where he was, and looked up to see Elizabeth standing in front of him, coffee cup in hand. He closed the journal and placed it on the floor under his chair. She would probably think he was crazy if she knew how he spent his free time these days. "Hello."
"Are you here by yourself?"
"As you see."
"Mind if I join you?"
"No, of course not," he waved to the empty chair, finding himself almost glad at the prospect of company. She slid into the seat opposite, put her cup down on the table and unwound the silk scarf she was wearing from around her neck. Once again, he couldn't help but wonder about her and Logan and how mismatched they seemed. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, thank you," she replied. "How are you?"
"Fine," he replied. "I talked to Lennie Briscoe a few weeks ago and he said that you and Mike were spending the weekend in Connecticut."
She looked slightly surprised but merely nodded her head, "Yes, we were visiting my parents."
"That must have been nice."
"It was." She paused. "I saw you over at the courthouse earlier, talking to Jack. I thought you might come here."
It was his turn to look surprised. It was a fairly innocuous coffee shop, frequented as often by lawyers and other court staff as it often wasn't. It seemed an odd assumption for her to make given how many establishments there were in the local area. Unless it hadn't been an assumption at all. "So you followed me?"
"Maybe."
"Why?"
She sipped her coffee. "So I could see for myself how you really are."
"And how am I?" he played along.
"Do you want an honest opinion?"
He laughed and looked down into his cup, "I'm not sure, do I?" She didn't say anything which, of course, spoke volumes. "Were you over at the courthouse for a case?" Bringing the conversation onto more familiar territory seemed the best choice.
"Yes, I'm due to testify in a murder Frank Lake's prosecuting but they don't need me now until tomorrow. Which is a bit of a headache actually as I had to rearrange all of today's patients and now I'll have to do the same with tomorrow's but...at least I have a free afternoon." She regarded him carefully over her cup. "Mike told me that you've accepted a teaching post at Columbia." He nodded. "Sounds like a good move for you."
"You mean you share my mother's opinion that I'd make a terrible defence attorney?"
"I don't know that I'd go that far," she laughed. "But it certainly would be odd to see you sat at opposing counsel's table."
"I'm looking forward to it actually," he said. "Columbia, that is."
"I'm sure you'll enjoy the new challenge."
A silence descended over the table, one he would describe as neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, and he could tell that she was building up to ask him the question so, he decided to pre-empt her. "Yes, I have spoken to her." Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Last week in fact, though it...wasn't much of a conversation. The police have arrested the men they believe attacked us outside her building. They're being arraigned later today." He glanced out the window over towards the courthouse, feeling almost a pang for his previous life. "She couldn't identify either of them so, when you saw me, I was asking Jack if he would consider agreeing that she not testify."
"And what did he say?"
"That he hadn't made a final decision yet, but I could tell that he thinks he needs her to make his case."
"What do you think?"
He met her gaze. "I think that I don't want her anywhere near any of this."
Elizabeth nodded slowly. "Are you afraid that she wouldn't be able to handle it?"
"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I don't know if she would be able to handle it or not, but I don't want her to have to. You know how much hell she went through testifying against Edward and I..." he sighed. "I just...I want to protect her. I wasn't able to do it before and I want to be able to do it now, as silly as that might sound."
"It doesn't sound silly, but what do you mean about not being able to protect her before?"
"At the Algonquin and on the street that night." He looked down at the tabletop. "I failed her twice, Liz, and I don't want to fail her again. That's why I don't want her to have to come back here and face it...face them."
"You know," she said after a long silence, "I was going to reach out to you a few weeks ago when I heard you'd left the DA's office."
"What for?"
"To offer my help."
"What, like some sort of exit counselling?" he smirked. "It's not a cult. I don't need to be de-programmed."
"I meant more in relation to the reason why you felt you had to leave." She paused, almost as though waiting for him to say it, and when he didn't she said it for him. "Ann Madsen."
"Ann Madsen..." he shook his head. "That name is going to haunt me for the rest of my life, isn't it?"
"You can be flippant about it if you want..."
"I'm not being flippant, and I care a lot about what happened to her, but I didn't resign solely because of Ann Madsen."
"Yes you did, and you know you did. I know you, Ben and although you believe that what you did in that case was right, deep down...you also believe that you failed her. Just like you seem to believe you failed Evelyn."
"That's not..." he shook his head, fighting against her reasoning. "They're two entirely different things."
"No," she insisted, "they're not. Would you have resigned if Ann Madsen hadn't been killed? If you knew she was safe and healthy and living a new life in, I don't know, Indiana...would you still have made the choice that you did?" He didn't say anything. "You are not responsible for what happened to Ann Madsen any more than you are responsible for what happened to Evelyn, then or now."
He glanced quickly at her, "What do you mean...now?"
"You said it wasn't much of a conversation when you spoke to her."
"It wasn't."
"And you were already concerned about her reasons for deciding to go to London, as was I. Call me crazy, or maybe just intuitive, but it sounds to me as though you're still worried about her, beyond the possibility of her needing to testify."
He paused, weighing up how much to divulge to her. After all, Evelyn's behaviour might mean nothing. It wasn't a crime to get drunk and be rude on the telephone, at least not yet. And yet, it anyone had had any insight into Evelyn's psyche then it was Elizabeth. "Pamela called her a couple of weeks ago. I didn't know she was doing it, she did it behind my back." He sighed. "Evelyn was very drunk, she was babbling, crying...she frightened her."
"And did you talk to her about it?"
"I tried to, but it just ended in an argument. She got some crazy idea in her head that I was going to get back together with Laura and I said..." he trailed off, not proud of the insinuation that he had made about her. Elizabeth watched him, waiting for him to continue. "I implied that when I had spoken to her cousin previously and she had told me that Evelyn was spending her spare time 'letting off steam' that...well...I'm sure you get the picture."
To his surprise, Elizabeth didn't seem shocked by what he was saying, but her expression tightened slightly. "You suggested that you thought she was engaging in risky sexual behaviour?"
"Well, if that's psychobabble for having sex with other men then, yes I suppose I did. I didn't mean to say it. It just came out as a reaction to what she said about Laura."
Elizabeth leaned forwards in her chair, "But do you think it's true?"
He shrugged, "I don't know."
"Ben..."
"Liz...I don't know, ok? Do I want it to be true? Of course not. Thinking about her being with anyone else just makes me feel..." he fought for an appropriate word to encapsulate his feelings and failed. "But she was the one who left me so I suppose it's not out with the bounds of possibility that..."
"You said she was very drunk?"
"That's what Pamela said and she admitted as much to me when I talked to her myself, not to mention the fact she was drunk during our conversation."
"Is this a regular occurrence?"
Ben frowned, "I don't know, why?" Elizabeth paused. "Liz..." he felt a prickle down his spine. "You're starting to scare me here."
"Self-destructive behaviours...alcohol misuse, sexual promiscuity...they can all be symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder."
"Post traumatic stress disorder?" he shook his head. "I thought that was something that affected war veterans. They suffer flashbacks because of the things they've seen..."
"It can and does affect military personnel but we're seeing it becoming increasingly common in people who have experienced extreme trauma in their life, regardless of the form the trauma takes. So, domestic violence, sexual assault, street crime...and it doesn't always manifest itself by way of flashbacks. There are a lot of behaviours that can contribute to a diagnosis."
"What are you saying?" he leaned forwards. "Are you telling me Evelyn has post traumatic stress disorder?"
"She stopped attending sessions before I could make an affirmative diagnosis. There's no doubt that she experienced extreme trauma, not just from Edward, but as a result of the shooting too." She paused. "You must have seen changes in her behaviour."
"Shambala Green said that she thought Evelyn was drinking..."
"I meant before that. When you were still together."
"Well she didn't drink any more than anyone else and the only person she was having sex with was me."
"Did she talk much to you about how she was feeling regarding Edward and everything that had happened?"
He paused, remembering the conversation when she had said she felt she couldn't get past knowing about Edward's betrayal and how he had told her that she needed to put it behind her and move on.
He suddenly felt sick to his stomach.
Oh no...what have I done?
"I knew...I knew that she needed help but I thought...I thought she was getting that by seeing you. I thought..." He met her gaze again. "This is my fault. I pushed her too much towards us making a permanent future together. The kids coming to stay...us getting married..."
"Ben, that's not what I'm saying," Elizabeth said, reaching out and putting her hand on his arm. "If you want the absolute truth, the seeds of the PTSD were sown long before she ever met you. Falling in love with you probably only delayed the inevitable."
Oh Evelyn...I should have done something. Shambala was right. I should never have let you leave. I should have stopped you...
"So what do I do?" he asked helplessly.
Elizabeth sat back and drummed her fingers on the table. "Can you get in touch with her again?"
"After our last conversation I tried to call her back and she refused to answer. I could try her cousin again, but when I talked to her last week she told me that everything was fine."
"She probably doesn't realise there's a problem or, if she does, she's minimising it thinking that it'll help Evelyn not to make too big a deal of it. If Evelyn is drinking to excess and meeting men for sex then she needs support to understand that neither of those choices are going to help in the long run and ultimately prove that she should still be in therapy."
"And what if she doesn't get that support?"
"In the short term she obviously runs the risk of alcohol related health problems, sexually transmitted infections if any intercourse isn't protected, not to mention that a combination of both behaviours leaves her vulnerable to potential abuse."
"And in the long term?" he asked fearfully, as if what she had already said wasn't bad enough.
"Untreated..." Elizabeth shook her head. "A complete mental breakdown."
