A/N: Might lose some people with this chapter. But this is the story I planned from the beginning. Like it or don't. Let me know either way. Broke 600 reviews :)
He's doesn't know what time it is. There's no clock in holding and he doesn't have his watch on. It's probably the time in the night when he was supposed to have the woman of his dreams in his arms, sated, sleepy, and using his chest as her own personal pillow. He was going to tell her the truth about everything when they got back to the loft. Letting him know what it was that went wrong while they made love pushed him to tell her everything.
He used her amnesia of the event to his selfish advantage, but he wanted to fix it. He wanted to tell her that nothing had changed and that he thought he left because he loved her, instead of it being because he was afraid his love would have been pointless. He wanted to lead them into the bedroom, turn on some soft music, take her hands just as he did before, look into her eyes, and tell her that she was right and that something did happen and it did change everything. Even if she didn't feel the same way and all she wanted to do was explore what they would be together, he wanted to show her the same exact honesty she's shown him.
But now, laying across the bench in holding with his black sport coat with the white border going around the lapels and the collar as a makeshift pillow, with his leg propped up and the other hanging off the edge, one hand under his head and the other laying flat across his stomach, all he can do is wait.
There has to be a plan to all this. If there isn't some higher goal, some bigger objective and the plan is to just frame him for the murder of her shooter, his father is simply a well-trained sociopath who has no real goals and gets his satisfaction watching this kind of misery. He can't be mad at the new detective or Ryan and Esposito, even the new captain for following the clear evidence that points to him. He doesn't even feel he can be mad at Jack, since he's his only chance to make it out of here. Can he be mad at himself for letting some old childhood loneliness cloud his better judgment and start pouring all his secrets out for Jack to exploit in the first place?
Jack probably subverts people for a living. Why would his own son be any different?
Rick lets out a very long sigh as he decides to close his eyes instead of staring at the ceiling. The situation as it stands, he's either in the absolute worst place he could possibly be, or the best. The woman of his dreams, the woman who's stolen and owned more of his heart than any other woman before her said she loves him. The man who tried to kill her is dead. Framed for his murder or not, he can rest easy knowing the person on the other end of that glimmer that day will never live to revel in his victory anymore.
But all of it could fall away, not mattering in the least, since she said she loves him.
Maybe he can talk her into moving out to the country. Alexis will be in college soon and he can still keep the loft, a place for his mother to live out her days in, maybe. Have a nice, big backyard with a tree. He's always wanted a tree for his kids; hang a tire swing from it, build a tree house, see how high they can climb it. He likes to think Kate would love that just as much as he would.
"Daydreaming, Richard?" A gruff, gravely voice says in the darkness of the holding room.
Rick snaps himself upright from the bench in his holding cell and looks through the bars. Just as he expected, Jack is standing there with that same calm smirk on his face, his hands tucked into the pockets of his ratty old denim jeans with that same old tan cargo jacket on. He has a quip thought up in his head for this moment, but he can't remember it now. All he can do is slowly move his leg down to the floor and sit up straight, staring wide-eyed at the man slowly pacing toward the bars.
"You had a smile on your face." Jack continues when his son doesn't respond. "Unless you're happy about being locked up."
"I'm furious, but what's taking it out on the bars going to change?"
Jack chuckles under his breath, making his shoulders jump. "I see you actually read that book I gave you."
"You could have just told me," Rick starts as he climbs to his feet, softly tugging at the bottom ends of his satin polo shirt, "that you were teaching me Stoicism, you know."
Jack eyes him with that same content look he had on the bench in Doolin. "I don't think you would have listened otherwise, Richard."
"And I suppose you're expecting me to still listen to you?" He says with a lift in his voice, pacing toward the bars. "Two to the chest, one to the head." He says, still not making Jack's expression budge. "Everyone knows that's old-school CIA."
Jack finally cracks and chuckles loudly, a humorous smile appearing on his aged face. "Most of the CIA's operations are in..." Jack shakes his head casually, "public relations campaigns and cultural subversion nowadays. It's a trick they picked up from the Soviets after the Cold War."
"Then what the hell are you?" Rick asks, his voice darkening. "Who are you working for?"
"I can't tell you that, Richard." Jack puts plainly.
"Like hell," Rick demands and grabs onto the bars. "You're working for the person behind her mother's murder, aren't you? He's looking to clean house after what happened with Montgomery, isn't he?" Jack remains silent, just as he would in Ireland, letting Rick either dig his own grave or build his own supports. "He ordered you to kill Maddox because Maddox was threatening to turn on him, didn't he? You kill him, frame me for his murder and I get sent to prison."
"Maddox wasn't supposed to be the target, Richard." Jack finally speaks.
And it makes Rick stop. He thought he'd have to pry and dig a lot harder for Jack to even admit to anything about his involvement. "What do you mean?"
"He wanted me to kill some low-level uniform and frame you for it, so you could get sent to prison and he could use his pull in the NYPD to have it look like an accident when you tried to break free from arrest during transport and have you killed."
Rick's heart freezes. It was all too easy to see and fake and pretend until now. Now, he's scared. He can't correct himself like he's supposed to now.
Jack looks down to the floor for only a moment before continuing. "And once you were out of the picture, she would have started to investigate the case again."
"And then they could kill her too." Rick finishes for him. All Jack does is nod, but Rick has too many questions buzzing in his mind to keep the holding cell silent for longer than a few brief seconds. "But why kill Maddox then? It doesn't make any-"
"Because Maddox was next in line to take the job if I took too long." Jack stops him, talking over his son, silencing him. "I know Maddox's methods, Richard. He's the kind of guy that would simply jam the locks on your doors and burn your entire building down just to get to you. Taking him out made sure he never got that chance."
Rick's brow furrows as his mind is failing to put the pieces together. "What do you mean 'take the job'? Maddox already tried to kill Beckett at the funeral."
"Someone ordered a sweep job." Jack says in a truthful tone. "I was living out my days in a military black site in Montana doing," Jack shakes his head to himself, "profiling work on cracking terror suspects in interrogation when the order went out."
"Wait, a... a sweep job, what's that?" Rick asks, only asking because he thinks Jack might actually respond from his tone.
"It's exactly what it sounds like, Richard." Jack nods a single time. "Everyone associated with a particular person or operation gets sweeped over a very short period of time. When the order went out, Maddox was at the top of the list. When I saw your name on the order, I put myself at the top of the list and accepted the job."
"B-but..." Rick shakes his head, letting his hands fall off the bars, feeling weak. "But if Maddox shot Beckett, that means he'd already accepted the job, so how did-"
"Planting Maddox's DNA on the rifle ensured his operations and movements were restricted. It was a small safeguard until I could put myself in the position I needed to be."
With Jack's words, Rick's heart turns to stone as his mind works ahead. With a cold, deathly stare, he turns his eyes back up to Jack. "What do you mean... planting Maddox's DNA?"
"Richard, Maddox didn't pull the trigger on your partner." Jack says, meeting Rick's cold, knowing stare head-on. "I did."
Rick slams his body into the bars of the holding cell, his arm reaching with a desperate hatred for the man on the other side, vile, heated, seething angry exploding in his system as his hand pointlessly grasps for Jack.
"Richard, I had no choice." Jack says in a hushed tone, just loud enough to be heard over the metallic rumble of the bars being shaken.
Hot, angry tears burning at the back of his eyes, Rick slams his shoulder into the barred door before taking his arm back. "You had no choice?!" He seeths through clenched teeth.
"I did it as safely as I could without blowing my cover, Richard, but the life of your partner wasn't a concern. I'm sorry."
"You shot the woman I love!" He practically screams through clenched teeth.
"Richard, I did it to keep you safe."
"Spare me the excuses and tell me why you're really here tearing my life apart!" He says loudly, not caring if the midnight shift hears him.
Jack looks down to the floor and pushes out a sigh despite himself. "The person who ordered the sweep isn't supposed to have that kind of pull, Richard." He answers.
Rick's body feels drained. He doesn't want to admit that it's because he feels he just heard once and for all that he'll always just be a pawn to his father. He finally knows who his father is, what kind of person he is. All he wanted growing up was a father. He never thought to wish for a father who actually gave a damn. He thought it was just a given.
"The person behind all this isn't supposed to know about people like me or Maddox, son." Rick feels sick to his stomach that he just called him that. "He's not high enough, which means there's someone higher up who's most likely selling the ability to call sweeps from my department. I took the job to flush out whoever that is."
Rick swallows passed his emotions the best he can, feeling a tear leak out onto his clenching jawline. "So the fact it had anything to do with me is just what... a coincidence?"
"Richard..." Jack shakes his head sorrowfully again, "in my line of work, it's best if I just don't exist. I know that, but... that doesn't mean I don't care about you. I took the job to protect you, to protect Alexis and Martha. But to do that job, son, I had to lie to you."
"Don't..." Rick warns him in a low, cold voice, "call me that."
"Richard, by now, he's already started making his move." Jack continues, seeming to get back to the present. "The person behind all this is out of options at this point. He has to know who really took Maddox out and he's probably gotten a call by now. If he doesn't get the situation back under his control soon, he knows it will be over for him."
"Making his move? What do you mean?" Rick demands.
"I told you, Richard. He isn't supposed to have this amount of pull. He'll do anything he has to to get control of the situation back, which put you in the most danger."
Rick shakes his head and tries his best to keep up. "Wait, so that's why I'm in here?!"
"You'll be cleared before they have the chance to transfer you, Richard. This holding cell is just the safest place in the city for you right now, Richard. You have friends here who'll look out for you."
"What about Alexis? What about my mother?!" Rick asks, panicking as he grabs back onto the bars.
"Alexis is at a friend's house on the other side of town. She's being kept inside from reports of gas leaks near by that I had called in and Martha is being kept inside of a rehearsal studio for the night while she figures out why her credit card is being declined."
"What about Beckett? She's the first one they'll go after!"
"I have eyes on her apartment, Richard." Jack nods calmly.
"She's not at her apartment!" He seeths through clenched teeth again, his stomach knotting furiously.
That makes Jack stop, his expression twisting in curiosity a bit. "What do you mean?"
"She's been staying at my loft since she quit the force. I sent her back there for the night!" Rick says angrily. Jack turns quickly to head out of holding in a rush, but Rick stops him just as he rounds the corner of the hallway. "Jack!" He calls.
Jack stops and looks over to Rick hesitantly.
Rick can still feel the cold chill of his emotion running down his cheek, having been nothing but a pawn to this man. "I've already had to watch that woman die once because of you." He says with a painful shake in his voice. "If you really care about me at all, then don't put me through that again."
Silent, Jack clenches his jaw and moves down the hall, out of sight.