On The Last Night of The Year
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.
. . .
An eerie silence spread across the battleship grey room, as Ashley locked eyes with her father for the first time since he had entered the room. It was at that moment Dave realised the inner strength the apparently fragile woman held. The man that had dominated her whole life was no longer a powerful force over her.
"I want the truth," she repeated, "I need to understand."
Beauchamp replaced the oxygen mask fully to his face with a shaky hand. No one missed the tremble of the action, followed by the deep inhalation of air. Each drag of breath he took being the only sound to echo around the room.
Dave's smile widened as he leant forward, trying to break the tension between the two, resting his forearms on the cold table. He would not let Charles Beauchamp play the sympathy card to back his daughter down.
"I don't think that's too much to ask before you face your true judgment, do you Charles?" an unmistakable sparkle in Dave's eyes shone as he spoke; now he was glad he had accompanied Ashley.
Beauchamp shifted his glare to Rossi. There it is, Dave thought, that hint of the anger that he always reigned in, in front of his family. The psychopath he'd so carefully concealed, was now clear for them to see. Leaning back again arms folded solidly across his chest, Dave had laid down the gauntlet, would Charles Beauchamp rise to the challenge?
As Charles swept his gaze back to his daughter his expression changed, as he reached a frail hand across the table to her. Immediately Ashley pulled back the thin arm she had rested once more on the smooth surface, with Dave sweeping in to block the action for good measure. Once more the men's eyes met; Dave's dark orbs boring through Beauchamp. A slight shake of Dave's head being the only necessary communication. Drawing his wrinkled hand back, Beauchamp snatched the mask off.
"I don't appreciate your interference," he shot at Dave with surprising venom.
"Well that's a shame, because Ash asked me to support her, and I plan on doing so," Dave smiled sweetly knowing it would grate on the other man's nerves far more than any protective burst of anger.
"Enough," Ashley snapped. "Dave is here as my friend, he is not leaving until I do. Which will be very soon, unless you agree to tell me why? Because the truth is the only reason I am here."
Charles nodded, as he took another set of deep breathes.
"I just want your forgiveness," he whispered hoarsely.
"How can I forgive what I don't understand? I have spent the years trying to understand what made you do the things you did," Ashley's voice was strong and calm, "I have tried so hard to move on, to create my own life away from you and your 'legacy', but I realise I have been chasing answers the whole time. I joined the FBI to understand people like you, and all I found out is that monsters like you are truly the stuff of nightmares, with no reckoning other then selfish egocentric need."
"Baby," his soft words barely audible, "I'm not a monster; I'm your father."
"You were my father, until I found out that we didn't know you," she shot back.
Dave placed a hand supportively on hers, aware of the tension in her body as she fought to remain in control.
"You abducted twenty-five women," she spoke calmly. "While you held them in extreme squalor you raped and tortured them. Their last hours of their lives were spent in absolute agony for your pleasure. Don't deny it as I have gained access to your files, I tried to find the answers for myself, buried in the information no-one wanted me to see. However I keep getting stuck on one thing, why did you do it?"
Charles Beauchamp's eyes narrowed as he processed what she had just said.
"You know why I did it, I enjoyed it," he answered flatly, as a neutral mask slid once more over his face, "More than I realised I would."
"More than being with Mom and me? I thought you loved us?" tears edged the rims of Ashley's crystal blue eyes, making them sparkle once more, but for the wrong reason.
Dave was acutely aware of how personal the questioning was getting, watching carefully, he waited for his cue to intercede.
"You know I loved you. I would have given you the world if I could." Charles paused to inhale the necessary oxygen. "Whatever you wanted you had. You can't deny that."
"I never have, you were overtly generous, and protective," Ashley's lips thinned as she schooled her face, determined to get through what she had come to say, "that I understand. I know you needed to protect me from people like you. I know guilt made you over compensate for what you had done. I even know that you tried to control it. Looking back now I realise the struggle you went through as I got older, as you went into a period of hiatus. I know you wanted to be 'normal', I remember how tired and exhausted you were all the time. As I read through the case files, and put the dates together I have begun to understand the fight you waged against your urges. Yet nothing tells me why you did it in the first place. You killed twenty-five women over ten years. The first one barely a month before I was born. What triggered you to do that?"
"I don't know," he sighed. "I had a late appointment at work that went badly, so I stopped for a drink on the way back to my hotel. She came up to me, started chatting. It was nice. One drink led to another, and you're a big girl now you can guess what happened."
Dave propped his head up on one hand, listening to the version of events that had never been previously exposed. Charles had never in interview given more than the bare minimum.
"The next morning, waking up beside her I felt sick. Your Mom was at home, and I had . . ." Charles paused to take in more air. "She asked for a ride home. I took her; she talked constantly, as if what we had done was perfectly normal. As I drove the more she annoyed me. I remember hitting her, knocking her head against the door. Finally she was quiet."
"Your reason for killing her was she talked too much?" Ashley said in disbelief.
Charles shrugged, once more hidden behind the clear plastic mask.
"I hit her because she talked too much, then I panicked. I found an old warehouse. Initially I was going to dump her, but seeing her laying unconscious on the floor, I knew I could do whatever I wanted," as his eyes misted over, his thin lips tugged into a smirk as he remembered the scene, "So I did!"
Ashley stared silently at her father, a sick feeling rising from the pit of her stomach.
"You're shocked," he smiled widely, sensing his power returning, "but I never killed a woman who didn't ask for it. I wasn't a hunter, they picked me. I just refined my location and methods, some things need privacy. But they all picked me!"
Ashley stood; she had heard enough, her father was no different to the others. Emily had been right when she had said that none of them had a reason. Ashley had hoped he would, but he didn't. As she turned away, she heard his voice.
"I guess I'm not forgiven then."
Walking away, she didn't dignify his comment with a reply. She had never hated him, and probably never would, but she was still embarrassed and ashamed to call him her father. That could never change.