Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Came to me one day after watching the s2 ep, Runaway.
"Hey, Cap. You okay?"
He looks at me, anger and sadness reflecting in his eyes. "No, John. I'm not okay." He turns to sit down at his desk. I sit across from him.
"Back when I was in Homicide, cases came and went, now... now they stay with me. This is one of them, and I know it's not just because Jill Foster was a cop's daughter. And it won't be because IAB got involved over that shit Cannick."
"Yeah, why will you remember, John?" He sounds tired, as if he doesn't really want to put up with me right now.
"I'll remember because you got so involved, and not only that, but you put yourself on the line so the rest of us, the rest of your detectives would be okay." I nod my head a bit and look at him over my glasses. "That's what I'll remember."
He looks at me, then gets up and walks to the interrogation window in his office, back facing me. "I wish I didn't remember any of it. There's so much of this crap we deal with, and then IAB gets in our faces when we do something differently than we're supposed to. What difference does it make if we get the bastards in jail? The few we can get. And the thing is, it will never make a difference."
I stare at his broad back, trying to think of something to say. Something to make him believe again, though there's many a time when I've come to the same conclusion. "If we don't do the little we can, who will?" I get up and leave then, hoping he'll see the light and not fall any further into that darkness we all saw now and then. That darkness that threatened us and made us want to sit down and quit. Find some other job.
But the thing is, we all remember, and we can't leave. We can't just pick up and go. It's not that easy.
We're blessed and cursed for life by this job.