Title: To Do His Part (6/6)
Author: Master F&M
Fandom: Law and Order: SVU
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Fin has left SVU and is back in Narcotics. Runs within the timeline of Infinity.
Disclaimer: Law and Order: SVU and all its characters belong to Dick Wolf. I just get to play with them
Author's Note: Sam is a character of my own creation. She does not exist on the show.
Feedback: Please give some. For entertainment purposes only.
CHAPTER 6
Sam checked the list of errands she'd made for herself to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. She had to schedule her time wisely. She'd been doing a lot of running around in the past couple days, getting things for Fin that he either wanted or needed, and now had to take care of some of her other chores and appointments. She didn't mind the extra work, though. She was just happy Fin was alive and doing well at home.
He had been out of the hospital now for several days, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep him in bed and away from work, but she was adamant about him resting in order to heal. She'd even given dire warning to everyone who came to see him: no discussions about work, or anything work-related. Or else.
Despite her protectiveness, however, Sam had been careful not to fret over him too much. She knew how important it was for him to be the one others came to for help, and didn't want to hurt his pride by making him feel weak or dependant. Instead, she'd called his mother and asked her to do the fretting. Denise had been happy for the opportunity to baby her son again, and Fin had allowed her to do it. Proud or not, nearly everyone wanted their mother to fuss over them when they weren't feeling well.
Sam was very grateful for all the support the Tutuola clan had given her since the whole ordeal began; particularly, during those first few days when she'd spent every minute at the hospital with Fin. Gerrie had kept the boys with her until Sam could explain to them what had happened. Naturally, they'd been very upset, but not nearly as shocked as they could have been. They understood what it meant for their father to be a cop. Nevertheless, Sam had kept a close eye on them, and was relieved to see that they were doing better now that Fin was home and they could see for themselves that he was going to be okay.
Sam walked back to their bedroom to see if Fin needed anything before she left. Just as she entered the room, he stuffed something under his blankets. Sam eyed him suspiciously.
"What was that?"
"What?" Fin was the picture of innocence.
"Whatever you just shoved under the blankets."
"Nothing. It's nothing." He tried to change the subject. "You heading out?"
"Odafin Tutuola," she was having none of it, "that better not be a case file."
Fin sighed then pulled back the covers. "Don't worry. It ain't." He revealed a ball of yarn, knitting needles, and a swatch of the project he had begun. Sam stared at them.
"Is that . . . ?" Fin answered before she could finish the question.
"Yeah, it is." He picked up the needles to show he wasn't embarrassed and started working again. Sam's mouth fell open.
"You knit?" She sat down on the bed and stared at him in disbelief. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"It ain't exactly something I go spreading around." His fingers moved deftly as he worked the yarn. "It just never came up."
Sam watched him for a while. "When did you learn?"
"When I was a kid. See, I had this cousin, Emma, who used to visit at my grandmother's every summer. She was always getting into trouble. Nanna used to say she just needed to find something to focus all her restless energy on; something to hold her attention. So one day, after Emma had gotten into some trouble with the neighbors, Nanna sat her down and showed her how to knit. After that, whenever Emma came over, Nanna would make her sit still with her for at least an hour and practice her knitting. I made the mistake of laughing at her, having to sit there like an old lady, so Nanna made me do it, too. She didn't make me knit, but after a while it got boring just sitting there, so . . . " He shrugged.
"I got pretty good at it."
"So I see." Sam followed his fingers some more. "Did your mother bring you this stuff?"
"Yeah. I figured since I had to lie here anyway . . . " He left the rest unsaid and concentrated on his counting. Sam smiled at him. Married for ten years, and he was still full of surprises.
"Well, I think it's very sexy."
Fin looked up at her and smiled back. "Yeah? You want me to make you somethin'?"
She was tickled by the idea. "Sure. What do you have in mind?"
Fin's glance lingered over her. "I don't think I have time to try a nightie." She laughed.
"But how about a scarf?"
She leaned in and kissed him. "That would be great."
Fin looked at her for a moment longer before going back to his knitting. "Don't say anything about this, alright? I don't want anybody riding me about it, or giving me any grief."
"Whom would I tell?"
He began ticking them off. "Munch, Huang, Tori . . . " Sam laughed again.
"Okay. Your deep, dark secret's safe with me."
"Thanks." He gave her a small smile. "Maybe I'll start on that nightie for you when I'm on my feet again."
Sam smiled back before her expression turned more serious. "Have you given any thought to what you're going to do when you are? About work?"
Fin put the knitting down. "What do you mean? I plan on going back to the department."
Sam looked away. "To Narcotics?"
He paused for a second, then spoke softly. "Baby, you knew that's what I was gonna do."
"But does it have to be? You just took the lieutenant's exam. I'm sure you'll pass. With your promotion, couldn't you go to another department? Do you have to go back there?"
Fin saw the worry in her eyes, but, as much as he hated doing anything to hurt her, he knew he couldn't walk away from where he felt he was needed.
"Yeah, Sam, I do. I have to do this. All that dope floating around out there is a big problem on the streets, and there ain't enough people tryin' to do anything about stopping kids from getting mixed up with it." He took a minute to let her think about it.
"You were alright with this before. You said you were proud of what I did."
"I was okay with it. I am proud of you," her voice took on a hint of exasperation. "And I know that there are a lot of kids out there who have no one looking out for them. I get that." She closed her eyes when they began to tear up.
"But that was before." She reached out and touched the bandages that covered his wounds. "That was before this." She shook her head, trying to make sense of her thoughts.
"I don't know what to think anymore, Fin. I'm scared. What if you get hurt again, . . . or worse? I'm afraid for you."
"I know, baby." Fin reached out and hugged her to him. "I know. But we can't let being afraid get in the way of doing what's right." Sam pulled away from him.
"You don't go through what I do every time you're out there."
"I don't? You don't think I worry about you whenever that unit of yours takes you someplace you ain't supposed to be, to find out some information you ain't supposed to know?"
Sam looked at him, surprised that he had a better understanding of what she did than she had thought. "It's still not the same."
"Sam, listen." Fin took hold of her hand. "The only difference between our boys and some of those kids on the streets is that our boys have us. We're giving them all the help they need to make their own way; giving them a chance to build good lives for themselves." He paused.
"Most of these other kids don't have that, but if I can point them in the right direction . . . " He shook his head a little.
"I just can't walk away from that."
Sam stared into the face she loved. She'd known all about how he felt before they'd ever gotten involved. It was one of the reasons why she did love him so much. She just wasn't sure she could live with it anymore. She sighed and squeezed his hand to show she wasn't angry.
"I gotta go. I want to get back before your dad drops the boys off." She caressed his cheek, then kissed him, resting her forehead on his for a few seconds afterward. They both spoke simultaneously.
"We'll work something out."
"It'll be okay."
They laughed at having shared the same sentiment, then Sam stood to go. "I'll be back in a couple of hours." She gave him a last look before going out the door.
"We have time to talk about this later."
Sam left the apartment and headed out in Fin's car. Her first stop was going to be at the community center where Fin volunteered one weekend a month. The kids had really come to count on him being there, so she and Fin had agreed that she would take his place if, for whatever reason, he couldn't make it on his assigned day. She knew she was a poor substitute, but with the lack of helpers, sometimes she was the difference between the center remaining open for the day, or having to shut its doors.
Usually on his assigned Saturday, Fin spent a couple of hours there talking to the kids from his old neighborhood, subtly warning them, through stories from his job, about the dangers of drugs. He then returned the next day with the boys for a day of fun. He wanted his sons to see that there were a lot of children who were a lot less fortunate than they were, and he also wanted the kids at the center to see that it was possible to have a good time and be clean of drugs.
Sam parked the car near the curb and got out. Though it wasn't what she would have described as a 'safe' neighborhood, she had gotten used to leaving the car without too much worry. Most of the people around there knew Fin and knew what he was about. In all the time that he'd been volunteering at the center, never once had anyone ever messed with his car, though those around his were frequently either stolen or broken into. He was respected here. It was for that reason that he insisted she always take his car whenever she filled in for him.
She entered the building and looked around. As usual, it was filled. She took a moment to look at the faces of the kids, searching for any that she knew or particularly liked, before heading for the office. On the way, she was stopped by Trisha.
Trisha Collins was a little girl who, at the age of six, had already lived through a drug addiction that had been forced on her by her mother before she was ever born, the death of that mother, and the abuse of the foster family that had taken her in. Now living in a good home with people who cared about her, she still had trouble relating, and was often very quiet and withdrawn. Sam hadn't been at all surprised when she had taken to Fin.
"Hey, Trish." Sam stooped down and smiled at her. "How are you?"
Instead of answering, she handed Sam a hand-printed get well card. On the front cover was a picture of a little girl holding hands with a man wearing a badge. Both wore large smiles. On the inside, the girl was alone and sad. Appropriately for Trisha, there were no words written on the card, but Sam thought the message had gotten through loud and clear.
"Thank you, sweetie. I'll make sure he gets it. I know he misses you, too." Trisha gave her a small smile then wandered back to the other kids.
"She was really disappointed when I told her Sergeant Tutuola wouldn't be here today." One of the volunteers offered an explanation. "A lot of the kids were when we told them he'd gotten hurt." She extended her hand. "I'm Stephanie. Stephanie Moore."
Sam shook hands with her. "Nice to meet you. Are you working here today?"
"Yes. I just started volunteering a little while ago. My son," she paused to point him out to Sam, "was putting in some time here, then really got to like it. I figured me being here, too, was a good way to keep an eye on him." She looked at her son for a moment, then brought her eyes back to Sam.
"I owe Sergeant Tutuola a lot for helping to straighten him out some. For a while I thought I might be starting to lose him to the streets." She laughed.
"I'm not sure what he said to Jamal, but my son's always saying now that he's got to do things right or he'd better watch it, or 'Mr. T' will get him." Sam smiled back at her. She wasn't exactly sure what to say.
"Well, anyway," Stephanie began walking away. "Would you tell him that I said thank you, and that we all hope he gets better soon?"
"Of course." Sam watched her go back to her circle, then continued to the office. Rev. Burns, the director of the center, was at his desk working.
"How's that husband of yours?" He didn't believe in wasting words.
"Getting better every day." She held up the card from Trisha. "This should really speed things up."
"Is that right? Then by all means, give him all of them."
He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out several stacks of cards: some were store-bought, but most were homemade. All were from kids wishing Fin would get well soon.
Sam got back to the penthouse a little behind schedule. She'd stayed at the center longer than she had intended to. Worried that the boys might be upset that she hadn't been home when they'd gotten there, she hurried to their rooms to check on them, only to find the rooms empty. She entered her bedroom and saw them all sprawled across the bed watching cartoons with Fin. She leaned down to kiss Corey, who was closest to her.
"Mom!" Corey protested and pulled away. He was getting to the age where he no longer wanted hugs or kisses from his mother.
"I'm trying to watch this."
All five of them were glued to the classic Bugs Bunny/Daffy Duck episode where the cartoons debate over whether it's duck season or rabbit season. They laughed when Daffy tripped himself up.
"Daffy's funny." Deon made the announcement in case anyone didn't know.
"I think Bugs is funnier." Sam offered her opinion. The boys looked at her as if she were crazy.
"Everybody knows Daffy's much funnier than the rabbit," Calvin informed her. "Right, Dad?"
Fin gave her a satisfied smile. "Yup."
Sam looked at her sons. Although they each, including the twins, had their own facial characteristics and features, they all still looked remarkably a lot like their father.
"So all of you like Daffy better than Bugs?" Each answered in the affirmative. She looked at them a little more.
"You do know you're half Munch, too, don't you?"
Fin laughed at the question. "Alright, guys." He shooed them off the bed. "Go finish watching in your rooms. Let me talk to your mom for a while."
The boys left and raced to their rooms to catch the ending. Sam watched them go.
"Why do I get the feeling that if we were all on a sinking boat with only five vests, that I'd be out of luck?" She put the bag she was carrying down next to the bed and laid down beside Fin. He laughed.
"Nah, baby, it's not like that. In fact, we'd probably tie them all together and put you on top of it just so you wouldn't get wet." Now it was Sam's turn to laugh.
"That's good. I like that one." She gazed into his smile for a moment.
"I met Stephanie Moore today."
"Yeah? Jamal's mom?"
"Ah-huh. She asked me to thank you. Apparently, whatever you've been doing with him has been working. He's staying out of trouble."
"Good." Fin nodded his head. "He's a good kid. He just needs to not make any stupid mistakes."
"Well, then I guess he's lucky he has you looking after him." She reached down and pulled the bag she'd brought in onto the bed.
"These are for you." She dumped the cards in his lap. "They're from your other kids at the center. They all miss you. Especially Trisha."
Sam watched as he picked out Trisha's card, looked at it, then looked through the others. He was right. There was no way he could walk away from those kids now. They respected, listened, and looked up to him, and more importantly, they needed him; even if it was just to remind them of what was right. Whether she liked it or not, Fin had a calling. She couldn't reasonably expect him not to heed it.
Fin turned his head toward her when she stroked his cheek.
"You're a good cop, Fin. And an even better husband and father." She snuggled in closer to him. "I'm sure you'll do everything you can to protect yourself when you're out there, so that you can come home to us."
"So you're going to be okay with it? With me being in Narc?"
"Yeah." If, she'd decided on the ride home, Fin felt he needed to do his part to help make the world a safer place for kids, then she would do hers by letting him.
"Just promise me you'll be careful?" She looked up at him. "We kind of missed our tenth anniversary, you know. You owe me one hell of a shindig for our twentieth."
Fin laughed and hugged her to him. "Alright. I promise. In ten years I'll throw the anniversary party."
Satisfied, Sam smiled to herself. Fin always kept his promises.