Caveat: Disclaimer on all Touching Evil prospects. I shall wreak havoc if they do not renew for a second season though God help me... Saw 28 Days Later . . . Cillian Murphy owns the shower scene, yesiree. Hope you guys like this chapter - it's second to the last, sadly enough. :-( Early huh? I know. Ah, but I'm beginning another one! The TE forum was hankering for something smutty . . . well, Smee, I do believe I have somethin' cookin' up! No, I don't write smut on a regular basis, it'll be my first so don't prejudge me, grr. I do bite, oh, and do I bite hard hee. Sorry for the long wait!
- Heaven's Burning -
by Mia [Ai-no-Tora]
Chapter Twelve: Creation of Destruction
Mark Rivers never knew he would be witness to David Creegan's tears. The first time he actually saw it was in the backyard of the old Creegan family residence which was on the market with much too much reluctance on the owners' part. He never knew that death and the utter reality of life could strike a person so strongly, not until Ben's death - could a person that was a man, a man that was considered "great" in his line of work, a man that held utmost importance in a community be harangued by fear or something far colder.
They sped down the residential road, his lead foot up against all other high standpoints of authority. A storm was brewing in what was thought to be the start of a beautiful day. Thunder crashed and reverberated through deep within their beings, as though to say You've built all these things; but who are you? Destruction is far more easier to create than creation itself. Rivers was slowly catching on to this. He too could feel it growing and kneading within where the light could not reach. It mourned of a great love lost somewhere where it was far too easy to follow.
They were coming up onto an intersection, and once he caught on his irises dilated, directing toward what hurt the most.
At first the flames didn't register with Creegan. A guess of something malfunctioning with his vision; a trick of the mind. But twenty feet away as Rivers stopped the car - he hopping out before the vehicle had come to a complete stop - was when the coldest of cold fears froze his limbs and stopped his heart. Smoke furled all around, coating his lungs and blackening the sky. Destruction was rampant here yet unwanted; in the distance someone was screaming, a piercing, hollowed scream as torn as a gunshot.
He took two steps forward, a third, a fourth. Breath came in uneven - he couldn't even remember why he was breathing. His closed fists were shaking. A bead of cold sweat rolled past his left eye and he didn't even acknowledge its shadow. Severe denial was flowing through his veins and pounding heavily in his hands, his temples, his chest. A baby was crying in its stroller as flashing lights, red-blue-red-blue, brightened and darkened everything before him. He wanted to be the baby, detached from this hell; safe without the history to truly mourn over.
The Earth laughs in children.
Rivers stepped beside Creegan, mouth agape, a terror-stricken expression on his face. Susan's black Infiniti - or what looked like Susan's black Infiniti - stood on its front bumper at such an odd angle, scrunched like a soda can. Underneath it was a dark green SUV and in the front was a red pick-up. Something caught Rivers' eye - a license plate about ten feet away, mangled and bent but he was sure of it; it belonged on the front of Branca's car. He shakily drew a breath, glancing at Creegan and even then he didn't think it was possible to be even more horrified.
Before he could say something, his friend tore loose from his spot like a bullet fired. "Creegan!" Rivers didn't know why he was trying - were he in his position, he would have been there already.
Emotions furling in a habitual liquid cool that burned within his equilibrium, he barely breathed; adrenaline was faster than tears and anger. It came up so fast - he merely had to blink once and he was there, pulling apart the ripped metal and the torn vehicle that threatened to fall over any minute. There was no time to worry, no time to spare as precious seconds ticked and his hands bleeding from scratches he didn't even know were there. All he knew was that she was bleeding more than he was, inside and out.
The door wouldn't budge, frozen in its permanent state and as hard as it was to change the goings-on in a picture, a cry tore itself from the depths of Creegan's awareness, all his strength concentrated on pulling the door open, to get to what was inside. Finally with one final heave, it gave way, the sound of metal on metal echoing as though underwater. Someone yelled at him to back away. Something about gas leaking and that he had to run. Not without her. Never without her. Moving around the glass, Creegan found her slumped to the right over the gear shift like a wet towel, the strap across her chest holding her stationary like a puppet, draped so limply he couldn't help but fear the most.
But you, you're just too stubborn to die.
Creegan couldn't quite see her face, but he spied upon a trickle of blood coming from her scalp down behind her ear and disappearing into her shirt collar. Suddenly a sharp piece of something was in his hand; he ran it along the seat-belt until it snapped. Susan's body - a shudder unconsciously convulsed through him - pitched a bit more forward onto the dashboard. Everything seemed heightened thus far; from the lights, the sounds, the emotions, the very air crackling around him, he moved forward and with such gentleness that seemed impossible to acquire even with him, he hooked his arm under her legs, the other around her torso as he carefully extracted her from the car.
You're not supposed to move the body . . .
Shit. But did that really matter. He wouldn't, for the life of him, leave her in the ticking time bomb of a car. He wouldn't, for his old life back, would he stand around and wait for someone else to rescue her. Nobody waits for something like that, no matter how much patience was a virtue.
Rivers ran toward Creegan, a hand on his back and somehow trying to help him with Susan while making their retreat, running as far away as they possibly could - before what felt like a blast of something hot and solid hit them from behind. Creegan stumbled forward but managed to cover Susan by tucking her head into his chest, kneeling on the ground with Rivers beside him as the explosion of the vehicle threatened to harm more. Several pieces of debris flew past them, over them, on them but to no fatal degree. With the flames subsiding, Rivers looked up to see an ambulance through the all the smoke and distortion, could hear sirens what sounded like a mile away before he remembered, looking toward Creegan and his small burden.
Setting her down on the pavement as gently as he could, Creegan, for once, knew what it was like to be on the sidelines, to be the one watching someone else fight for something they knew they should. His hand smoothed out her hair from her face, the blood warm and slick on his fingertips. She had no expression on her face but one of peace and security, as though she knew who was watching over her at the moment and had lost all the care in the world. A single droplet of rain - no, David's tear - fell on her cheek and rolled away the grime, dirt, make-up and blood. His hand found hers, hoping she could feel him too. Something so pure yet so touched.
I've fought like hell not to let Evil touch you. It doesn't deserve you, Susan. I don't deserve you. A heart wrenching sob poured from his mouth without his notice. Don't leave me behind . . . Now that I found you, I can't . . . I can't lose you again. Don't let me live without you. Don't. Don't. He didn't realize the words were coming from his own lips, not stationary in the abyss of his mind and heart. He didn't care; no one should. "Please . . . open your eyes . . . just once - I want to see your beautiful eyes . . ."
Rivers watched as his friend, part-time partner and colleague break down before him, his face a mixture of anguish, pain, suffering and grief. For once he really knew the meaning of when they said there was nothing that held David Creegan's emotions in check. This was a man that held all the right in the world to cry, to let go of any other inhibitions that might have held him back. He leant a hand on his shoulder, not knowing quite what to do, tears forming in his own eyes at the threat of a loss so great. We're all just a puddle of tears and earth, aren't we? Mud. That's what we are.
Paramedics came swiftly yet not swiftly enough; diving and swooping upon Susan like crows upon a carcass. Someone was trying to pull David away by the shoulders, and with an anguished territorial growl, he batted the hands away and they knew not to force him at this time. Even so, he let them take her upon a gurney, rolling her away and with him not far behind, still holding her hand until somehow he lost the grip - perhaps it was the blood or sweat or tears - but her small hand slipped away from the confinement of his. The white doors opened, they lifted her onto the emergency vehicle. Time swept them all and carried them away in an onslaught of life and death. Mark held David back, even if he did want to go with her to the hospital but he knew it wasn't right yet, gently coercing him to stay. If she were to die right in front of David, there was nothing that was safe around him.
Dark gray-blue eyes burned. focused on the ambulance as it drove away into the horizon of clouds, into everything foreign yet familiar. She was leaving him. No - she was being taken away. The most beautiful imperfect lily was being picked from the earth to somewhere better.
How many people will you have to watch drive away David, before it ends? Will it ever?
"No," He breathed. Mark glanced at him. "It'll never end. It never does."
--
The hospital room was dark - a tinge of blue, the smell of sterile bed-sheets and rubber gloves hung in the air. Creegan had driven Rivers' car without so much as a word between them as they chased the ambulance, running two red lights and one near run-in with a semi, almost beating the ambulance to the hospital in result.
Now this was the part that came as a blur, a flurry of movement as though someone was filming the whole thing on long-exposure. Lights left bright trails in his eyes; voices heightened and lowered in sporadic intervals. Creegan followed after the doctors and nurses, directly if not on their heels as someone was trying their best to apply his own much needed medical attention for his hands which were cut and swollen.
Nurses - doctors - people were barking orders. She had lost a tremendous amount of blood and wasn't getting any better. The doors were closed on him before he could slip by, a fist slamming against the small square windows where he could see them cutting away at Susan's clothes, covering her mouth with an air mask, her heart-monitor hooked up and he could barely see the lines leaping barely.
That's when he heard it.
He knew he'd heard the sound before; it brought on the feelings he'd no sooner would want to forget but were not forgotten, could not be forgotten. Susan's heart-monitor beeped once more before it flat-lined, the alarming noise loud and clear. Panic coursed through him like never before. The tension heightened and he made for the door handle, pulling at it before Rivers came up from behind, holding him at bay. "No! Let me go -" He thrashed at him, and Mark tried his best not to hurt him as he signaled for a nurse to lock the door to the room. Suddenly he broke free and turned on him, as though his touch set him on fire. "Susan's dying in there, Rivers!" He angrily spat. "What the fuck do you think I'm going to do - just stand around like an office plant?! She -"
"You won't be able to help her if you're like that," said Mark, his voice patient, face softened. Creegan looked at him as though he were the crazy one here. "Don't you think you can help her more by getting the guy who did this? Creegan - Creegan, look at me." He glared at him over his shoulder, seething at the indirect betrayal. "Listen to me - Branca'll make it. She'll make it, she's strong -"
"She's dead." Rivers stopped, altogether silenced. He wasn't looking at him anymore, the tears were almost getting too thick to see through. His eyes were trained on the window of the hospital room, his fists clenched tightly, teeth grinding together in immeasurable grief.
People rushed around him; everything became darker. Shadows moved across the wall, the floor, the sky outside blackened. Cardiac arrest . . . They brought in the defibrillator, and it barely registered with him as he saw Susan's slim body convulse there on the hospital bed. A dream that wasn't a dream; a nightmare that wasn't a dream but a real nightmare.
"Clear!" [bzzt]
"Hi, I'm David Creegan."
"This is my office."
"Yeah . . . mine too."
"Uh, I don't think so. Who are you . . .?"
"Clear!" [bzzt]
"Nothing -"
"Charge."
"Clear!" [bzzt]
"You should trust your instincts more, Susan."
"Thank you, Sir Alec Guinness."
"Clear!" [bzzt]
"You're one of those Last Ones, aren't you?"
"No, it's not that."
"Yes it is."
"Readings?"
"Flat - there's a large amount of blood blocking the -"
"- risk of brain damage -"
"I . . . Sometimes I think I don't tell you enough."
"I still get it."
"I worry about you."
"You don't need to worry about me."
[Sometimes I think you want to go back.]
"Why do you think I work so hard here?"
Many things were an illusion. This wasn't.
Somewhere above them, above all the lives that inhabited and scarred and bled the entire face of the earth, Heaven was welcoming a new soul. The loud sound of the flat-lined heart-monitor deafened him; something punctured his skin before he fell to the floor.
Heaven's burning down for this, Susan.
--
Next day.
He woke up with a start, his hand going to his sore arm. It itched like crazy under his sleeve - pulling it up he gazed blearily at the bandage that hid the itch beneath and he tore it away, indulging himself at the relief.
"Don't scratch that," a voice murmured from the doorway. He was in an office - some sort of waiting room. Rivers.
Finally the memories clicked and he shot up from his seat. His knees felt watery and gave way, head throbbed as he fell back down. "Susan -"
"Creegs." Rivers walked toward him, sat in the chair next to him and laid a hand on his arm. "You wouldn't shut up last night - finally some nurse injected you with something to put you to sleep. You were raving like some town lunatic - something about burning Heaven down just so Susan couldn't -"
Creegan made a mad grab at Rivers' collar. "How. Is. She?"
With all the cool calm in the world, Rivers let himself be roughly manhandled, blue eyes as bright as ice. "She died, Creegan. She died yesterday morning at precisely 10:58." Creegan's hands dropped from his collar. His lips parted, his eyes glazed over. How could he be like this? So robotic? What was wrong with him? What was wrong with the world? He swore time halted, his blood running cold. His heart literally stopped before Rivers continued. "She died and remained dead for approximately 10.5 minutes. She beat you, Creegs. Susan beat your record." It didn't register as David felt like he was going to plummet off the edge. Rivers stared intently at him; clearly his reaction amused him slightly now that he knew. "Hey - you okay man? Hello? Anybody home?"
He was turning himself into such a sissy-boy. What with the shaking, the crying, the loss of a cool exterior. But Rivers let him be a sissy-boy - something to keep just between them.
--
OSC HQ.
Susan wasn't out of the line of danger yet. She was for the moment housed in the ICU, having not yet awakened. There was still the possibility that her time in cardiac standstill could have ceased enough oxygen in enough time to create damage to her brain. At least she was alive. Creegan didn't have to be religious to see that as a blessing. He would have stayed with her until she had woken up except he had work to do. He was going to kill the bitch that did this. Not Bernal, not Rivers, not some wanna-be hero recruit, but him.
"So Hallie Piper's full name before marriage was Helene Angela Townsend." They were in the War-Room, files haphazardly scattered everywhere as Rivers directed the case. No one could help but notice the emptiness in the room that only Susan could fill. "Bernal and I had visited Ronsen and Company, PC earlier this morning, and they told us that Piper wasn't at work and hasn't made an appearance there for over a week now. We tried her place and apparently she's cleared out, leaving all her belongings. About two weeks earlier she had originally came into the SFPD to report a mugging where she had received a stab wound. A knife was found near her apartment which was consistent with the cut on her thigh, and the lab checked out that it was her blood, but with only her fingerprints."
Creegan frowned; this was getting more and more complex. If only he'd seen this coming. "Meaning she was the only one who used the knife?"
"Yeah. No leather imprints, no fiber traces - just old-fashioned fingerprint trademarked via Hallie Piper - or should I say Helene Townsend. The knife didn't show any other proof of being used. Brand new German steel."
Odd. She didn't live far away from Creegan. Could that mean . . .? "So you're saying she stabbed herself and somehow dragged herself to Park Avenue to be found by me?" Was she crazy enough? Oh yes. She was.
Rivers held up a hand. "I'm getting to that." From a file, he pulled out a transparent slide and it on the projector. A face similar to his stared back at all of them. "This is - was - Andrew Piper, Hallie's deceased husband." He watched for a reaction in Creegan. "He looks very much like someone we know, wouldn't you say?"
"You sure that ain't you, Creegan?" Bernal deadpanned from across the table, and Creegan awarded him with the finger.
Creegan stood up from his seat, standing right in front of the projector screen, his eyes keenly studying the stranger's features: full lips, deep gray-blue eyes, the dark hair - but no scars. What was this? "Hallie Piper saw me as her husband," he finally came to the conclusion as he turned to meet their stares, feeling their eyes comparing his face with a dead man's. "I knew I'd seen her before. She was staring at me about a year ago at the airport terminal before we went to Boston - she had two little boys. Her husband was standing near her - that's how I remember it because I thought I was looking at myself."
"Now you remember," Bernal muttered and was ignored.
Rivers nodded; it was becoming unveiled. "I managed to get into her medical records from years back," Rivers glanced warily at Enright. No complaint so he trudged on. "She was almost diagnosed with [anacardium] split personality disorder - a basic schizo but she somehow managed to tone down and no one became the wiser. She married, had a couple kids - two years later the kids and the husband die as their car dives into the lake with Hallie Piper barely scathed."
"My family was killed not too long ago in a car accident. My husband and two little boys. I was the one that survived the crash, getting away with no more than a few broken ribs, sprained ankle and a black eye, some minor bruising. Every time I got into a car, I felt like I was drowning. Something in my brain I guess."
Yeah, really, Creegan thought angrily. Susan died because of you - she didn't get away barely unscathed. After discovering this, he felt his lips were tainted after she'd kissed him. Guilty, too and if he felt shame this would be the good time to feel it. "The expensive perfume she was wearing - she had to have stolen that. Probably from one of the victims." Creegan thought out loud as he often did, staring at Andrew Piper's face. "The dress I found her in. Expensive name brand. She was wearing black gloves in the cell-phone store where she happened to meet me. She was showing abnormal behavior then, too . . ."
Enright frowned in consternation. "So that was the disturbance I heard of. Really Creegan, you should have let us know about this directly and immediately."
"Yeah, like showing your hospitality toward Hallie Piper in the first place," Bernal added; even with the snarky comments to bring Creegan down or somehow tag some sort of blame on him, he knew he was nervous and worried for Susan. Even Bernal wasn't that unfeeling.
"Those gloves at her apartment were consistent with the black fibers found on Agent Rodriguez's neck," said Rivers, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. He didn't get a wink of sleep and it was slowly catching up on him. "Lucas Miller helped indirectly with the murders though I don't think he was involved any more than he was. He has a credible alibi at the time of all the victims' deaths - however, we do have enough evidence to suspect Hallie Piper for the murder of Athena Hausen and Vallerie Snider, not to mention Landon Rodriguez."
"Perhaps the deaths of her family and her cousin who's a cancer-patient has taken its toll on her - she can now be labeled as unstable. Nobody let their guard down." Enright ordered, getting to grips that this was all or nothing now.
"We have to find her," Creegan said firmly, his tone vindictive. "Because Susan's the only one that's survived out of all the vics so far - she's not safe until we bring this bitch into custody." With that said, he grabbed his coat, gun holstered and they were dispatched.
--
Rivers and Creegan were in Rivers' car, strapping on their seat-belts. "Where do you think an unstable female would go when she's on the run?" Rivers quizzed as he started the engine. Creegan's famous brain functioned on adrenaline, anxious to get his hands on that woman - and not in any gentle way. Flashes of images entailed the question in his mind; where would she go . . .?
The doctor's just gave Danny five months. He's all she's got now.
"Oh fuck."
"What?"
Creegan turned in his seat, hand slapping the dashboard, voice rising. "Green's Hospital. Her cancer-patient cousin's in the same hospital as Susan."
The tires squealed as they peeled out of the OSC driveway, ready to run a few more red lights.
--
Notes: Sorry for the long wait again. I was on vacation. Going on vacation again this weekend [again, I'm sorry!]. Does this story warrant a sequel? Or a prequel? Whatever? Feedback would be good. One more chapter after this. The finale was awesome huh? I'm getting someone to mail the episodes to me - she's so fudgin' nice!! lol So anyway, I've been making TE avatars. They can be found in my blog - the link is in my FF.net profile. Hope you guys like them - some are 80x80 [forums] and some are 100x100 [LiveJournal] - you can do the resizing. I personally like the MUCH series: "Cough much?" From the finale when that Dr. was smoking? "Wet much?" From Purpose where JD's um...all wet? "Hurt like hell much?" From the pilot - the perp and the gun. Also a smiling Branca one that says "this is why." Guess where that one's from! Hee. I'm so glad there are so many TE fans! All praise TE [bow].
See you guys in the final chapter of Heaven's Burning!
THANK YOU SO MUCH dudes and dudettes:
Mrs. Rhett Butler: You're such a sweetie! Really. I hope your job's not taking its toll on you. God knows I need one. Blasted work force, grr . . . lol. Yes indeedy, the finale was SUPERB. Wish that gown fell a little more, didn't ya?? My brother-in-law was in surgery and when he got up off the bed [taking care of him was part of my "vacation"], and the gown slipped all the way. Holy. Cow. I laughed so hard because of course, all I saw was Creegan. Butt much?? Heehee!
wiseoldman: I hope you won't be sad now that this story's coming to an end. :-( I'll be sad AND relieved! Hee. Thank you so much for reading, wiseoldman. Are you really a wise old man? Hum.
GeorgieQ: LOL Wow, that's great how people think of my fic when they've watched the REAL thing. I am so goddamn flattered. Seriously. Rated R part huh? I know, I know, but it was my firstie fic, I didn't really want to delve into that when some people aren't ready for it [but you can guarantee I am!]. I've got one R rated fic in the mix. I've got a lot of work to do. Thanx again doll. ;D
Galxychld: Would I let Susan die? Hm. Yes. Yes I would. I did. LOL Oh c'mon! Susan and David are like. . .this [crosses fingers]. Yeah. They're like that. Heehee! Yeah, "did we sleep together? Did we sleep together?" Yep, major difference! Thanx again.
snosamie6: I hate me too! For taking so goddamn long! Hee. Sorry it took so long - I hope you were satisfied with this chappie. I tried. I really did. Not so many funny parts anymore - this story wasn't that funny, but then again it wasn't mean to be. Like the original TE plotline - some funny parts, but there are some dark stuff too. Thank you for reviewing!
Alamo Girl: The FINALE WAS OH-SO-GREAT! LOL I don't think I'll be able to NOT watch it over and over again once I get the tape. Well, this was how Creegan reacted to Branca's car wreck! I wonder if that's how he would have acted in the original TE plotline...hm. :D Food for thought! Thanks for your wonderful review.
Jennifer: Hey Jennifer! lol Sorry, I had to do that. Thanks for reading - I'm glad you like it.
Self Injured: Hey Sid! Where's your story??! HURRY UP WITH IT!! Haha. I wanna read it already! Waaah! lol Yeah, I'm comin' out with a couple of new fics actually. Not gonna be up for a while though, which a while means like a couple weeks. We'll see, huh? So where's your story???! lol Okay, I'll stop ranting if you supply the demand.
VivianeAeryn: Yes, poor Creegan. More like poor Branca! Ouch. lol It's just a scratch, rofl. Thanx for reviewing! :)
NBLkolt: Aw! You're so nice! Heehee - yeah Hallie, that bitch. lol Anyway, I hope you liked the season finale - they better effing renew or I'm gonna hurt somebody!!! lol :D
Crimson Alessa: LMAO Chapter 9 was sexy huh. Yeah, I guess it was. Of course anything with Creegan in it is sexy, no? ;D Thanx again!
Flame31: Dude! Thanx a lot. Hope you liked this chapter.
diddly day: "David is hot!" He sure is! I'll drink to that, hehe! Thank you for your review. I thought it was so nice!!
SassyAngel05: Aw, thanks for your review Sassy! I'm glad you're still reading it. Just can't have enough SusanDavid interaction, now can we. Thank you again.
Agent86: LOL That's hilarious! About the coffee while watching the surveillance camera screens! Even when there WAS no coffee in those cups?? Hahaha at least put some water in there or something! And what's wrong with drinking coffee while shooting?? Afraid of coffee breath? LOL Not like they go off-camera and start making out...heehee. Sorry, I was ranting. Thank you for thinking of my story while seeing the finale! [blush] :D
Meghan: Don't be jealous - I'm sure you could think up a story just as good if not better for a Touching Evil fic. We just need to see more! Season Two, come forth! Hehee! Yessiree, I'm having my own withdrawal symptoms for TE...oh man! lol Thank you so much for reading.
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