Thought Police
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. This story is on an AU track.
Chapter 14: The Lost Future
"I guess," Robin began after a long moment, "that you could say that this whole sad story begins over a year ago. Don and I had been married for two years by that point, and we decided we were ready to think about having kids. We knew it was a bit of a long shot, we're both a little older than is ideal - but you know, things can happen, and we decided we were ready to let things happen, if you know what I mean. And we got lucky - or so I thought. I got pregnant within months of stopping my birth control." She swallowed hard, letting her head drop. "But we weren't lucky. I lost it a couple of weeks later."
"Robin, I'm sorry."
She waved off the Lieutenant's expression of sympathy. "Please, just...let me tell it, or I'll never get through it."
Alex nodded, and Robin continued. "I had two more miscarriages after that. When I got pregnant the fourth time, we were almost afraid to get our hopes up. But one month turned into two turned into three, and we finally dared to let ourselves hope that this one was going to be different. Once we'd cleared the three-month mark, we thought it would be okay to start, you know, telling people." She giggled despite the tears in her eyes. "Actually, I ended up making the announcement on the exact same night Amita was planning to make hers. I thought Alan was going to keel over, he was so happy." Then she doubled over suddenly, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. "I was twenty weeks along, halfway there, when I passed out one day in the middle of a hearing. I woke up in the hospital, only to be told that my water had broken and the baby was coming." Her shoulders hitched with a repressed sob. "I gave birth to my son that day, and an hour later we held him as he died. There was nothing anyone could do. He was too early to have any hope of survival."
Alex had to bite down on her lower lip not to react verbally to Robin's words. She remembered well the terror and anguish she had felt when her own baby had been born premature, and Sarah's odds had been good from the start.
"At first," the woman choked out, "Don and I were in it together. We supported each other. For those first few months after our baby died, we could barely be separated. But all that changed literally in a matter of minutes." She rubbed her eyes forcefully, trying with all her will not to cry. "It should've been a good night - our first real date since the tragedy. It was, at first. We were talking and laughing, finally starting to feel like ourselves again. But it all went wrong after we got home. We were, you know, getting into bed, and then Don said something about birth control. I said we didn't need to...that's what started the fight. He didn't want to chance me getting pregnant again. He said that he was afraid that another miscarriage would be too much for my body to take." Another barely-contained sob rippled through her body. "He was probably right, you know, but I just wasn't ready to give up on the idea of having a baby. I felt like it was my body that had failed, my fault that we hadn't been able to... anyway, Don refused to take the risk. He said...he said he could live without a baby, but he didn't think he knew how to live without me. Such a sweet thing to say, but I - I just blew up at him, and what should've been a great night turned into a catastrophe. Don left that night. He didn't want to fight with me, and he seemed to realize it was inevitable if we stayed under the same roof."
She looked up at Alex finally, her watery eyes full of pain and regret. "That was about two weeks ago, and that was the last time I spoke to my husband. He called over and over to apologize, but I didn't want to talk to him. I was - I don't even know what exactly I was, for God's sake. I suppose it was mostly anger. Angry at him, angry at myself, angry at the world - but my husband got the brunt of all three, and so I never called him back. And the irony of it is, now I realize how right he was. He didn't want to face life without me - now I'm the one facing life without him. And he was right. It's unbearable, especially so soon after losing my son too."
"Robin..." Alex began softly as the other woman's voice faded to silence. "Robin, I know there's nothing I can say to change what's happened. But I will say - I don't think you'll have to go through life without Don. I believe, with all my heart, that he and the others are alive and out there somewhere. And I intend to find them, whatever it takes."
"I - I appreciate that," she said after a long moment. "But even if you're right, I've probably lost him anyway. How many chances can I expect him to give me before he decides he's already given me too many?"
"He'll forgive you," Alex replied, softly but in a tone that made it clear how confident she was in her assertion. "I know he will."
"How? How can you be so sure?"
"Because he told me." Alex could now clearly see the subtext that had been woven through Don's half of the conversation that had ostensibly been about Mike and Carolyn. "Not in so many words, but it came through all the same."
Robin gave a pained sigh. "I only wish I could believe as strongly as you do that I'll get him back."
Alex took Robin's hand, squeezing it gently. "It's okay. I can believe for both of us."
Robin laughed softly despite herself, as much with relief as amusement. The Lieutenant's firm confidence was the first thing that had been able to truly penetrate her fog of despair and make her believe that there was still some measure of hope. But then a laugh caught in her throat, becoming a sob. The breakdown she'd been on the verge of for months refused to be held at bay any longer. Then she simply crumpled over, as if her body structure was no longer able to support its own weight.
Alex caught Robin before she could tumble from the bench and pulled her close, holding her in the same way she might hold one of her own nieces or nephews. "It's all right," she whispered. "Just let it out. You'll feel better if you do. It's all right."
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"Excuse me," said a soft voice from the door. "Are you Agent Wylie?"
The blonde man's head shot up at the sound; he had been so absorbed in his work that he hadn't realized anyone was there. "Yes," he said a moment later, after he'd regained his bearings. "That's me. You must be the new computer expert."
She smiled, extending a hand to him. "Amita Ramanujan-Eppes. I'm here to help in any way I can."
"So, are you FBI, or..."
His tone made it clear that his question was borne of curiosity, not confrontation, and she replied accordingly. "Not officially. Though I might as well be, with all the work I do for them. No, I started off just helping Charlie out, but I became a full-fledged member of the team when they realized I was more into computers than he is - he can do them, of course, but his thing is straight math, whereas I started trying to build computers in junior high."
The agent's eyes widened. "No way! That was me too!"
Amita laughed. "Well, then, between the two of us computer prodigies, we ought to be able to coax something out of this chaos. What do you say?"
He grinned. "I say let's get to work."
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Alex got up as quietly as she could, leaving Robin to sleep on the locker room bench. It was far from an ideal bed, but Robin had been more than half-asleep by the time she'd stopped crying; trying to move her would probably be more trouble than it was worth. She took a moment to scribble out a note and tack it to the locker room door, instructing anyone coming in to keep quiet. Alex got the sense that, accommodations notwithstanding, this would probably be the best the other woman had slept in quite a while, and she didn't want to ruin that for her.
The squad room was bustling with activity when Alex reentered, a contrast to the somber quiet she had left behind in the locker room. Following Don's disappearance, he amount of tension and anxiety in the team had become so intense that many of them had spilled out into the bullpen to put an end to the arguments that had begun to erupt in the tight quarters of the conference room. Now only Wylie and Amita were working in there, both relieved to be free of the distractions caused by the frantic agents.
Alex poked her head into the conference room, noticing that Wylie looked calmer than he had when she'd last seen him. "Hey, guys. Any luck?"
"I think so," Amita replied, never taking her eyes off the screen. "No information yet, but we're making progress on the encryption. We've decoded two layers in the past hour. We'll let you know when we get to something."
"Good. Keep it up." She gently shut the door and turned, only to almost literally run into Alan, coming down the hall towards her.
Alan didn't notice the petite blonde until he was inches from crashing into her. He slammed to a stop, barely averting a collision. "Lieutenant. I'm sorry."
"That's all right. You looking for something?"
He shook his head slowly. "Just some answers. I've been pacing this hall for God only knows how long and I still haven't made any progress." He sighed audibly. "If only I could be doing something. But there's not much use for an urban planner on this one."
Despite the severity of the situation, Alex had to stifle a laugh. "On this one? Is there anyone in your family who doesn't work for the FBI?"
The comment had the desired effect, and Alan chuckled too, relaxing a fraction. "Once Charlie started, my fate was sealed. It was barely six months after their first case together that he went digging for my old city planning maps. After that...it was only a matter of time."
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"You weren't kidding," Wylie commented to the woman working beside him. "You really are a pro at all this."
"You're no slouch yourself," she countered. "I wouldn't have been able to make nearly as much progress without your help and all the insight you've gained over the past few days."
He blushed a bit at the praise. "Most of my colleagues barely understand what I'm doing. They appreciate it, I'll give them that, but they don't really understand."
"I know what you mean," Amita replied. "It's a running joke with the team that when we start to explain things, they just nod and wait for the punchline. It's not like I blame them," she added. "I know that we're usually using words they've never heard. It's just...it's nice to work with an agent who actually understands."
"What kinds of cases are we talking about?" Wylie asked interestedly. "Just straight decrypting, or...?"
"I wish," she said with a laugh. "I've probably faced more dangerous situations than some cops."
"Really? Like what?"
She considered a moment. "Well, there was the time I was kidnapped by a psychopath who wanted me to hack into a major national bank, and picked me because he wanted a showdown with the FBI."
"You're kidding."
"Dead serious. Thankfully, he underestimated me. I used the hack to slip a message out to Charlie right under his nose."
"How'd you do that?"
"I hacked his credit card," she admitted sheepishly. "Encoded a message into some phony charges I planted in his account."
Wylie laughed. "I'll have to remember that if I'm ever kidnapped by a manic who wants me to hack something."
"Believe me," she admitted after a moment, "it wasn't quite that simple. It was probably the most terrifying experience of my life, and I've had people try to kill me on two separate occasions."
"For your work?" Wylie said incredulously.
"Well...sort of. One time, it was to stop me from finding out that a so-called AI was actually an elaborate fraud. The other...well, that one wasn't targeted at me, specifically. There was a case where the motive seemed to be related to an ARG – an alternate reality game – and I was helping the FBI track a suspect by playing through it myself. We didn't realize just how dangerous this guy was until he used supposed game clues to lure us a dam spillway right when the overflow was due to release. We heard the alarm, and Charlie and I just barely managed to scramble back up the ladder in time." She shuddered involuntarily, remembering the horror of that morning. "Colby wasn't so lucky. He was caught up in the flood and almost drowned before Charlie was able to get him out."
Wylie's eyes were huge. "Wait, was this the Primacy murder? You were involved in that?"
"You've heard of it?" she replied, surprised.
He nodded. "I was in college at the time, looking into the FBI because they were trying to recruit me. That case just happened to stick because I'm pretty into video games myself. How did you end up getting involved with that?"
She shrugged. "Kinda backed into it, really. Originally, Charlie and I were just called in to figure the angles – you know, guy fell off the roof, needed to rule out a suicide, basic stuff. But since I knew the game, I ended up getting way more involved than I ever planned to be."
"You play Primacy."
"Yeah, sure." She noticed that his expression had changed. "Why? What's up?"
"Nothing," he said quickly, and then blushed. "It's just...the way you talk about the game, you remind me a lot of someone."
"A very particular someone, I surmise, given the way you're dancing around the topic."
"I just...I don't want you to get the wrong idea. But yes, you're right."
"Who was she?"
He ducked his head slightly, not wanting her to see the emotions that flashed across his face. "Her name was Michelle."
"And you were close?" she prompted.
"Yes. Well...sort of." He paused for a moment to try and shape his thoughts into a coherent explanation. "We were friends. Maybe a little more. I did ask her out once."
"And she said no?"
"Uh, no. That's not...she said yes." He swallowed hard, the memories still raw. "The same day that – well, she was FBI too. I guess I should've realized that nothing is guaranteed in a job like this. But some people just...don't seem like they can be hurt."
It was clear to Amita now what the young man couldn't bring himself to say. "I'm sorry. How long...?"
"About six months."
"I'm sorry," she said again.
"No. No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. Where were we?"
Amita watched him a moment longer, then nodded slowly, understanding what Wylie was really trying to say. "I think it was this sequence here..."
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Alex all but slammed to a halt when she saw the familiar figure standing in the door. "Mike! What are you doing here?"
"I –" he hesitated a moment. "Honestly, I wish I knew. I'd say I came here looking for information on the case, but I know well enough to know that you can't give me anything. Maybe my less rational side forgot for a second. I can't stand this not knowing." He sighed softly. "You know, if I were still a cop, I'd hate me right now. Popping into the squad room in the middle of the investigation...people like that used to drive me insane. But now that the shoe's on the other foot..."
"Don't be too hard on yourself," she replied kindly. "You're far from the only cop to turn into a bit of a hypocrite when you find yourself personally involved."
He let out something that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a sob. "Thanks, Alex. I think."
She stepped forward and gave him a gentle hug. "Don't worry about it, Mike. I know you're having a hard time right now. Look," she added, lowering her voice, "don't tell anyone I put it quite this way, but I've already got two civilian family members pacing the halls around here. I think I can handle a third, if you think that staying for a while would help."
"Really? You'd do that for me?"
"Of course. Just stay out from underfoot, don't interrogate anyone... you know the basics."
"Yeah, I know the basics. And...thanks."
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Charlie let out an audible gasp, letting the marker fall from his suddenly limp fingers. "I need...someone go find Amita. Now."
Zach looked up sharply when he heard the tone in his friend's voice. Bobby Goren, engrossed in a surveillance tape, missed the mathematician's outburst, but his attention was drawn a moment later by Zach's reaction. "Sorry, what was that?"
"Amita," he repeated. "I need Amita."
"She's in the computer room, right?" Bobby asked. "I'm on it."
"What is it, Charlie?" Zach pressed as the other man hurried out of the room. "You find something?"
"I...maybe." Charlie was still staring at the numbers. "But...I can't be sure. You see...early in my work for the FBI, I met a man who had dedicated years of his life to a single problem, and after all that time, he finally thought he had the solution in his hands. But when I looked it over, it turned out there was a critical error right in the middle of his calculations. Everything from that point on was meaningless."
"And now you're worried you may have made a critical error."
He nodded forcefully. "Believe me, it's not something I like to consider. But Ethan Burdick made a mistake when he had all the time in the world and the only thing at stake was prestige. How arrogant would I have to be to think I couldn't make a similar mistake when the clock is ticking and the stakes are so much higher? And to not just think it but gamble my brother's life on it? No. I have to be sure."
"Have to be sure of what?"
The sound of his wife's voice was the only thing that could possibly have dragged even a little of Charlie's attention away from the numbers. "That I'm following a valid line of reasoning this whole way through." He turned pleading eyes on Amita. "I know you're already busy. But you're the only person in this building who can independently verify my work."
"It's all right. Wylie's a quick study, he's picked up on some of the techniques I was using. He should be able to keep making progress without me. But this is going to take some time, Charlie. At least half an hour, and that's on the optimistic side. And you looking over my shoulder is only going to slow me down."
"But –"
"She's right, Charlie," Zach interrupted. "How is she going to be able to work through this freely if she knows you might question anything she says or does? Besides, you've been at this for over thirty hours straight – counting from the time you first started work yesterday," he explained before the mathematician could try and contest the number. "You should get some food and maybe a little sleep."
"Sleep? I can't sleep through this."
"Come on, Charlie." Zach almost literally pulled him from the room. "I'm not talking about a full night's sleep. I'd wager none of us are getting that until we break this case. I'm talking about a quick nap. Half an hour, maybe forty-five minutes. Just until Amita's done."
"What's that now?" said a new voice.
Zach hadn't seen the man in close to a decade, but it took him only a few seconds to recognize him. "Mr. Eppes. I was trying to convince your son to get some rest."
"Have we met?" Alan Eppes studied him for a moment. "Wait...we have, haven't we? I'm sorry, I can't seem to remember."
Zach nodded. "Not surprising. It was along time ago, and I know you've got a lot on your mind just now." Oh, do I ever know. "Listen, I was going to try and grab Charlie something to eat, and then take him up to our crash room for a bit. But maybe you ought to do it instead. He'll be more likely to listen to you."
Alan seemed surprised, but nodded. "Okay, where am I going?"
"Vending machines are down that hallway. It's not much of a meal, but right now, the important thing is just to get something in his system. Then the bunk room is just up those stairs. If you get lost, just find somebody who looks like they work here or ask the front desk. I will make sure someone comes and gets you as soon as Amita has an answer."
"Right."
By now, Charlie's stubbornness had faded, and Alan only had to steer him down the hall. As they left, Zach became aware of someone else watching him. "Alex! I didn't see you there."
"Sorry. I was just making the rounds and heard voices. What was that all about? You seemed to have Charlie under control."
"I did," he admitted. "But Mr. Eppes Senior looked like he was ready to climb the walls. I figure he hasn't had much to do except wait for news and watch the clock, so I thought giving him a task might be some small help."
She smiled. "Of course. Pages out of the psych textbook again, right?"
He smiled back, but he knew it probably looked as forced as it felt. "Something like that."
"Not to borrow your act," she added gently after a moment, "but you look like you could use some sleep yourself."
"I probably could," he admitted. "But I can hang in there for a while longer. Unlike Charlie, I did grab a couple of hours last night. And I think it's best if I stay awake for now."
"Zach, the investigation..."
"That's...not what I meant. I know the investigation can manage without me. It's my daughter I'm worried about. Andrea's...incredibly shy." Actually, that was an understatement, but talking about it in any greater detail was almost physically painful. "She could very easily end up overwhelmed by all the new faces. I need to make sure she can find me if she needs me."
"Still no luck on a caretaker, then?"
"Afraid not. It seems I've hit upon some incredible confluence of bad luck. It's not like I don't have a contingency plan, after all. But today...Serena's out for obvious reasons, Megan's own daughter is sick, Mom's out of town, and Dad's out of the country. With Cecelia, my nanny, in the hospital, that's my entire network unavailable." He sighed. "At least Mom's back tomorrow, so there's an end in sight. Don't get me wrong," he added, "I love taking care of my daughter. Just...anywhere but here. 1PP is hardly much of a playground, and when I'm working, I can't give her the attention she deserves."
"I know how you feel," Alex said softly. "I was relieved when my sister came by to take Sarah. It's not easy to split your attention like that. You either end up neglecting your work or feeling like you're neglecting the kid."
"Even if you're not," Zach added softly. "Because you want nothing more than to give them everything."
"Exactly." She reached out and gently squeezed his arm. "Tell you what. If you're not going to go and sleep, how about you take that same twenty-minute break and spend a little time with your daughter? Same thing you told Charlie, I promise. I'll make sure someone comes and finds you as soon as the results are in."
He was starting to smile now, a real smile, if tired. "I think I'll do that. And...thanks."
Okay...wow. I am terribly sorry this took so long, especially with that minor cliffhanger. For some reason, my inspiration on this story decided to come to a virtual halt for a couple of months, and the block only just let up.
The chapter title is based on a quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald: "Suddenly she realized that what she was regretting was not the lost past but the lost future, not what had not been but what would never be." It's not completely relevant to the bits with Charlie, but it seemed to work so well for everything else: Robin's lost baby, Wylie's grief over the relationship he never had with Vega, various characters' reactions to the potential loss of their loved ones, and (though rather subtle) Zach's feelings about Andrea's trauma and the fact that she'll never be the same.
This story references the Mentalist episode Nothing Gold Can Stay and the Numb3rs episodes Angels and Devils, First Law, Primacy, and Prime Suspect.
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