A/N: I want to thank everyone for the kind reviews, you guys made coming out of my corner worth while. This is my first time writting the canon characters so they might be OOC. If they are, please point that out and I'll change it. Chapter one has also been revamped and the changes Lactuca suggested have been made,
Also, I intend to read you guy's work and give feedback. I can't wait to get started!
Also, for those of you that have a three day weekend--enjoy it! I know I will be!
Thanks for reading you guys!
Major Case Squad room
One Police Place
5: 37pm
Detective Bobby Goren circled the brunette in front of him, waiting patiently for the slightest crack in her mask. She was a proud woman with stoic green eyes and smirking full lips. Her hands were folded on the table with well crafted elegance. Her gaze was sharp and excited.
Bobby watched her relax against her pretentious façade. His hands grazed about her personal space as though he were conducting an orchestra. He brushed his hands through the air, nipping at her unspoken rigid boundaries. He moved around her and stood facing her at his full height. His eyes roaming about her delicate feline features, stroking her healthy ego with each mock appreciative glance. He had to give Payton Brett credit. She sipped his scrutiny with sophistication and gave away no signs of being uncomfortable—to the untrained eye.
"You know Detective," she smiled kindly. "I do not like being summoned."
"Who does?" Bobby replied. He gestured towards the chair in front of her. "May I?"
"Please. May I ask what all this is about? My family has been more than corporative with the investigation. We have left no stone unturned, so as to why I'm here…"
"Your daughter…"
"Do whatever you see fit. While it pains me to know that my own flesh and blood will be scrounging amongst the dregs of humanity soon, I know it must be done. She was a disease. She sucked the life from us all with her wild allegations. I was too lenient with her when she was a girl. I indulged her far too much. As did my…oh god," Payton sobbed faintly. She took the box of tissue Goren held out to her. She dabbed at her eyes and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry. It's so…"
"Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured."
"Homer," Payton grinned. "You're well read Detective."
"People are difficult to govern because they have too much knowledge."
"Lao-tzu," the house wife sighed. "You've got quite the arsenal."
"As does Margaret. She's a very precocious sixteen-year-old. She's obviously read more than her share of the classics. She and I could've gone on for hours, throwing out quotes and analyzing them into the ground. I'm sure your dinner conversations were quite pleasant."
"Maggie is definitely bright, but nothing is more sickening than watching intelligence go to waste. She was always so angry, so demanding. She never used her intellect to better herself. She only used it to belittle."
"You mean your husband?"
The woman nodded. "I remember the third time Howard came over for dinner. Maggie was about six. He simply asked her what genre of music she was interested in. She smirked and said, 'I have a catholic music taste.' My husband was a devout Catholic and needless to say he was offended. When the conversation turned sour, Maggie explained that catholic was another word for eclectic. Howard was so embarrassed he practically ran out of the house. I wanted to throw all of her books and magazines into the fireplace! She's always disrupting things Detective. She'd still be disrupting if…"
"If she hadn't murdered Howard."
"Yes. Maggie has always been jealous of my husband. She and I have never been able to relate, she's far too much like her father, and she hated the fact that I spent most of my spare time with him and our daughter."
"Maggie told me about that. You often took Vivian out to the museum and left her alone with Howard."
"I've been over this before Detective."
"Yes I know…"
"Look, I have things to do and people to see," she said coldly. "I'm trying to rid myself of this mess and you people keep wanting to rip off the scabs. When will it end?"
"With the truth Payton."
"What more is there to tell? I don't know where she came from! She's just so damned evil!"
"Every sweet has its sour; every evil its good." 1
"What good came from Howard's death? My husband was a wonderful man and an even better father. He didn't have to take Maggie in! He didn't have to open his arms to her."
"He didn't have to rape her either."
"Now she's sucked you into her lies! Howard was many things, but he was not a rapist. Maggie is an evil girl Detective. You would do well to put her ridiculous accusations our of your mind."
"There is no den in the wide world to hide a rogue. Commit a crime and the earth is made of glass. Commit a crime, and it seems as if a coat of snow fell on the ground, such as reveals in the woods the track of every partridge, and fox, and squirrel."2
"Detective," Payton began to finger her the diamond pendant around her neck seductively. She leaned to her left. She titled her head slowly in his direction and arched her eyebrow. Her voice was was innocent. "I think I should call my lawyer."
"All right," Bobby produced his cellphone from his coat pocket. "I'll be waiting."
Payton eyed the phone cautiously. He was submitting much too quickly. He seemed to like playing with her. She calmly pulled herself from her chair before brushing the table with her smooth finger tips. Payton wanted to scrap her nails against his walls. She wanted to brush a rough tongue across his ear and make him shiver. She watched him trace her slim silhouette with dark, distant desire. She knew it was only a matter of time.
"Can they see us Detective?" she breathed. She wasn't too close to him, she wanted to pluck him like a guitar. She wanted to make him sweat.
"Who?"
"Oh don't be coy. Temptation rarely comes in working hours. It is in their leisure time that men are made or marred. Seems as though you're the exception to the rule Detective." 3
Bobby nodded, a small smile graced his lips. He leaned forward and breathed into her ear. "Is that all you can bring to the table Payton? Sex?"
Payton's breath stopped, but she recovered quickly. She began to trace Bobby's arm with her fingers. "Of course not."
"You're right about that," Bobby grabbed her hand and placed it at her side. "You brought a bright eyed sex slave for your wealthy husband."
"Listen you sick son of a bitch," Payton growled. "Howard never raped Margaret. She's a cold hearted killer! Why are you blaming my husband for her psychosis?"
"Because he drove her to it and we both know that. In fact, you know a lot of things Payton. You knew that Margaret's witty comebacks and sharp insults were pissing your husband off. You knew the gravy train would leave you and that loud mouth brat at the next station if somebody didn't put her in her place."
"I have no idea what you're talking about and apparently, neither do you."
"I know where you came from. Your drug addicted mother and her little shotgun house in New Orleans. How that jazz pianist sucked you dry and left you with his rotten seed. I know that you wanted the best and Howard Brett was it. You didn't want Margaret to ruin it."
"No..."
"She told me Payton. She told me that he was going to leave you if you didn't let him. She told me you cried, begged, offered yourself. Oh now, but you were getting old, too plebeian. It wanted someone feisty, someone strong, someone that challenged him. He wanted to shut her up and turn her sharp mind into an aphrodisiac. You weren't about to let Maggie take that away, were you?"
"Stop it..."
"So you took your ten-year-old daughter shopping. The two of you saw Cats on Broadway and sipped tea at a French bistro. She relished that attention. She sites it as one of her fondest memories. You pacified her. You took her home and sent her to her room. Then you let him come in and rape her!"
"That is not true! That isn't true," Payton scurried around the big detective and fell back into her chair. "That is not true."
"She's gone now Payton. You don't have to face her."
"No..."
"You let him, didn't you?"
"I just wanted to be happy. All I wanted was to finally have something! After I snatched my little bit of happiness, I was not about to let her take that away from me."
"Payton..."
"Oh shut up," she shouted, tears of anger and hurt rolling down her cheeks. She licked away the droplets that were pooling around her lips. "You don't understand!"
"I do understand Payton," he looked down at her sympathetically. "You were jealous of the two of them. He was always parading her about the town, taking you and Vivian around when it was necessary. As she grew to look more and more like a woman, you grew to be a distant memory."
"That's not what..."
"What play was it," Bobby tilted his head to the side and snapped his fingers. "Ah, Othello. O, beware, my lord, of jealousy! It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on." 4
"I was not jealous of his sick infatuation with my daughter!"
"That's why you killed him and framed Maggie. You knew that Maggie had been straying from him. You knew she'd told her counsulors about the abuse. That's what you all were fighting about that night. Maggie finally told. She was stupidly giving up the life with Howard that you always wanted. She'd stolen your dreams, your husband, your pride. She embarrassed Howard and his family. She was going to pay. Why only her? Howard defended her, even in the face of her betrayal and it sickened you to the core. He loved her. He would've given everything to her. He was sick, he was cold. If you were going to do anything, you were going to stop them. You stopped him with a shotgun and her with justice."
"No..."
"You put all the pieces in motion when you realized Payton had seen the whole thing. Afterall, you allowed him to rape her. Why wouldn't she want to get back at you? If you went away, she would still win. She would still be smart, bold, and kind--the object of another man's fantasy. You wouldn't have it, right? Maggie had to go too."
"Yes I was jealous of his love for her! I made hard, hard decisions to hold on to that sick son of a bitch. He never appreciated me for any of it. He toyed with me the entire time. He dangled my insecurities in front of me and grew aroused when I fell before them. He loved her anyway. He loved her in every way."
"Is that why you let him hurt her Payton? You let him rape her because you could see he loved her more?"
"No," she slammed her fist down on the table. She swallowed at looked up at Goren. "She slept so peacefully, you know? I'd watch her in the doorway and she couldn't even feel me. She mummered sometimes, about her lost dog or maybe about me. She was innocent, so pure. She was very trusting. She would spark up conversations with strangers. I even cried when I had to explain what strangers do, what men do. I hated her. I hated that she could love so easily. I hated her freedom. I envied her deep sleep. She came from the same situation as I did. She wasn't born into happiness and luxury. Howard was my husband. If she wanted those things from a man, she needed to find her own!"
"When did he come into your room Payton?"
She flinched. "I was five. He paid my mother ten dollars. It didn't stop until Margaret's father took me away. I always slept with one eye open. I never knew when they were going to come. I never did well in school, didn't have the energy or the drive. Not like Maggie. I learned everything I know from television. I read the books the rich movie characters talked about. I mimicked their accent. I saved the money the men paid me to buy fabrics to sew myself into their style. I wanted to be rich. Nobody would send me back to that hell hole."
"You buried Lillian-Jean when you buried your mother and Margaret's father. You changed your name to Payton when you came to New York. "
Payton Brett stared across the table, her eyes lost in her past. She looked up and flashed a wavering smile. "I killed Howard, Maggie had nothing to do with it. What'll happen to Vivian?"
"She'll probably be placed with her grandparents."
"And Maggie?"
"I don't know."
She held out her wrists. "Let's get this over with. Shall we?"
"Payton Brett, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense".
"Who is rich? He that is content. Who is that? Nobody," Detective Alex Eames shook her head watched her partner hand the woman over two uniformed officers. "After all of this, Margaret Bowen will probably wind up in the system." 4
"Not necessarily," ADA Ron Carver smiled triumphantly. He pulled a folder from his briefcase. "Howard Brett's will."
Captain James Deakins relieved the lawyer of the documents. "Well he left her a sizable chunk of change, but something tells me she won't take it."
"She would be independently wealthy, making it easier for her to get an emancipation hearing."
"She'd also have to live with that idea of living off the man that abused her. It's a catch 22," Alex folded her arms.
"It's her decision," Carver said. He removed the will from Deakins' hands and picked up his briefcase. "I'll get started on expediting Margaret's release."
"Nice work you two," Deakins nodded at his detectives before following Carver.
"You okay?"
Bobby flashed a halfhearted smile. "Fine, just hungry."
"I'm in the mood for a burger. You interested? My treat."
"You paid last time," he pointed out as they walked to their desks. "You said..."
"I lied. I'm paying and you're going to stop trying to talk me out of it."
"Eames..." his protests were cut short by the loud ring of the phone on Eames' desk. "Major case. Speaking. Excuse me? You must be...yes I have a brother but he doesn't have... Is he going to be all right? I'm...I'll be right there."
Bobby swallowed and slowly hung up the phone. He rubbed the side of his face. His nephew. Richard's child. Richard had abandoned his son in a hospital and was expecting his little brother to clean up his mess again. His nephew...
"Bobby? Bobby, what's going on?"
He said nothing. He grabbed his coat and started for the door, but jerked himself to a stop. He turned to look into the his partner's confused golden brown eyes. She had a look of eager, deserving expectation on her face.
"Apparently my brother has a son. His name is Lucky and he was shot," Bobby said quickly. He had one foot pointed towards the door and the other towards Eames. He was fiddling with the buttons on his crisp collared shirt. He looked up at her sadly. "He abandoned him at the hospital."
"Oh no," Alex sighed. "Is he okay?"
"They wouldn't tell me. I don't even know where he was shot."
She grabbed her coat. "I'll drive."
"No Eames," he held up his hand to stop her. "You don't need..."
"I don't need to, but I want to."
By the time he opened his mouth to protest, she was already heading for the SVU.
Bellevue Hospital
Pediatrics Ward
"What happened?" Bobby looked down at the little boy in the bed. He was still with an oxygen tube in his nose and an IV in his arm. He looked up at Doctor Masse. "What happened to him?"
"Your brother brought him in after he was shot in the head. The good news is it was a flesh wound."
"And the bad?" Alex asked from behind her partner.
"Because scalp wounds bleed profusely, Lucky lost a lot of blood. He went into hypovolemic shock. Thankfully he didn't lose enough blood to require a transfusion, but we have an intravenous IV line giving him Hespan, Dextran, Gelofusine, and dextrose to replace the fluids he lost. We're also keeping him on oxygen to expedite the process."
"And the blanket?" Bobby fingered the wool spread covering the boy.
"To prevent hypothermia. Once his body temperature and fluids are normal, we'll remove the blanket and the IV."
"Is he still unconscious?"
"We gave him a mild sedative to help him rest. He was very traumatized. He'll probably come around in ten or fifteen minutes, maybe less."
"May, uh, may I sit with him?"
Dr. Masse look down at Bobby's hand, which now lay protectively on the child's shoulder. She smiled. With the exception of nurses checking his vitals and changing his IV, Lucky had been alone. It always bothered her when children were left alone.
"I was wondering if you could fill in a few blanks. His father didn't stick around to fill out any forms and all Lucky did was cry while he was conscious. We don't know how old he is or even if Lucky is his given name. We'll need you to fill out forms regarding his medical history..."
"I, uh, I don't know. I don't know anything about, well, Lucky. This is the first time I heard about him, ahem, when you called."
"Your brother instructed us to call. I thought..."
"Richard and I are estranged."
"I see. I..."
"If you could give me a second, I could find out some things..."
"No, no," the blonde doctor backed towards the door. "Take all the time you need. He hasn't had anyone all day."
Bobby pulled one of the hard visitor's chairs up to the bed. He took in the small child's face. His loose curly hair was fanned about his pillow. A few unruly coils dangled in front of the small bandage on the left side of his face. Bobby resisted the urge to swat them away. He touched his chubby cheek, but yanked his hand away as though he been scalded. This little boy, this little Richard, reminded him of everything his brother had that he didn't deserve.
Alex stood over her partner. It was the only time she towered over him. "He looks like you."
"He looks like Rick," Bobby said stiffly. He was now stroking Lucky's hand. "I wonder if they told him Rick isn't coming back."
"He might..."
"Damn it," he dropped Lucky's hand and smashed both of his fists on the bedside table. "I should've..."
"You didn't know Bobby."
"He tried...he called me Eames. Five years ago, he called me and asked for help. I thought it was about money so I hung up on him. He was probably calling about..."
Eames laid a comforting hand on his shoulder and said softly. "You had no way of knowing..."
"I have to call Logan," he shrugged her hand away and stood up. "He can run a check on Rick and found out Lucky's name. I need to figure out who he is before I figure out who shot him."
"This isn't just another case Bobby. He's your nephew..."
"I know that Eames," he yelled. He slumped his shoulders and looked over at Lucky. His eyes softened. "He deserves justice Eames."
"What he deserves is an ally. You heard the doctor, Bobby. Lucky's been all alone since he came in here. You should be here when he wakes up, not me."
"I'm as much of a stranger to him as you are."
"You can find the person that shot him, that's fine. I'm sure it'll mean a lot to him one day. Right now, he's a scared little boy that needs to know that there is somebody out there that cares. I'm not saying that Rick didn't care about him, but he's gone now. You're all he's got."
"Eames I don't..."
"I'll call Logan," she said forcefully. She opened the door, but stopped short of closing it. "You can't save everybody all the time."
Bobby shaped his lips to respond, but the door was already closed. He picked up Lucky's hand and gripped it tightly. He looked so fragile and Bobby feared fragile. Life was fragile. It was like a delicate tree branch, handled too roughly it would snap in two uneven pieces. Those two pieces could be put back together with a little help and determination. Bobby thought about the sprinkles of bark the fell from the branch. The small reminders of the accident that were left unseen, the consequences that people don't think about.
Bobby knew his brother was trying to protect his son. He operated in a world of black and white, this and that. Lucky would be safe with Bobby and he didn't have to take responsibility. What about the little speckles? What about Lucky's fear or Bobby's reluctance?
Lucky was alone and Bobby feared being alone. He adapted to it. He understood it and he analyzed it. Yet it still shook him to the core. He remembered what it was like reach out to a parent, and pull away feeling empty and let down.
Those memories choked him. His faint sobs caught in his throat. He swallowed and brushed the stray curl away from Lucky's bandage.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm so sorry."
A sigh escaped Lucky's lips. Bobby allowed the boy's hand to slip out of his own and watched his eyes flutter open. Lucky smacked his lips, a warm smile spread across his them.
"Dad."
Next: Alex finds out information about Rick and Lucky . Bobby visits his brother's apartment.
Citations
1 Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803 - 1882)
2 Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803 - 1882)
3 W. N. Taylor
4 William Shakespere, Othello
5 Benjamin Franklin
Also, Payton Brett was influenced by Victoria in Tyler Perry's Madea's Family Reunion.
