"The victim was raped over there behind those trees. She was assaulted here and dragged there," Olivia explained. I sent my team to work then followed Olivia to an eyewitness, a couple of teenage girls.
"When can we leave?" the blonde one asked, smacking on her gum like her life depended on it.
"Just tell us what you saw and you might be able to leave when we're done," Olivia sighed. The red-head sighed.
"We saw a tall, black guy grab some woman from the bushes. He was hitting her and trying to drag her over there. We ran off after that."
"What did she look like?" I asked.
"Short, brown hair. She was yelling at him in Spanish, but he didn't know it I guess," the blonde one replied.
"What was she saying in Spanish?" Benson asked.
"That he shouldn't be here. Then he started dragging her over there and she started screaming 'Help!' in English."
One of my techs tapped my shoulder, and I followed him into the bushes.
"We found this, a class ring fitting our victim's age. But this is the concerning piece of evidence," he explained, holding up a small notebook in his gloved hand. "Our vic was a journalist, and not a clean one. He was an informant judging by this entry. We'll read through the rest when we have time, but...I think he turned on her."
After processing the scene and getting nowhere with our eyewitnesses, Olivia went back to the station to fill out the paperwork and I returned to Mercy to see what Fin discovered from our victim.
"She knew him alright, but she's also protecting him," Fin told me in the hallway. "Until we find something to get her talking, we'll never catch him."
"Any ideas?" I asked. He shrugged.
"Just get that evidence processed fast, or at least process the kickers that way. By the way, we have to arrest her on drug charges, so she's going to be under lockdown all night. I sent in the clothes and rape kit for your lab guys to process, but she'll still be here if you need her."
"Thanks. I'm going to go up and get something I forgot from John's room, then I'll go back to the station and get things processed."
"Don't overwork yourself, but thanks for the rush," Fin nodded, heading outside.
Once in John's room, I gathered my things quietly. Before I left, I noticed he was awake.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"We got a case, so I'm going to process the scene overnight. Why do you ask?"
"I heard Fin here earlier, but I couldn't wake up to respond," he replied quietly. "How long am I going to be here?"
"Until you're ready. Don't push yourself, John. We need you well, not sick and tired."
"I'll try to remember that about day three or four."
"If you need a week or more, you'll take it," I said sternly, pulling up the chair closer to his bed. "Why are you so stubborn?"
"I've been in plenty of hospitals in my day, and I have plenty of bad memories to keep me from going back. You're probably too young to know about how things used to be."
"You'd be surprised. I had some ill family when I was younger and we used to visit them. I watched a doctor tourniquet someone's arm because they thought it would cure their fever. I heard them recommend to one of my family members an amputation for infected cut. I've seen some pretty terrible medical tactics, but I faith that things have changed. This is just a fluke that happens sometimes. At least we caught it, and now you can heal."
"I still hate hospitals, but fine. Just...sneak me in some food okay? I've seen better food in the hands of dumpster divers," he spat. I smiled.
"Fine. I need to go, but I'll come by tomorrow to check on you."
"For the boss?"
"I imagine he'd want that, but...you'd do the same for me, I'd hope. And I go to that shrink tomorrow, and I know you'll want to hear the aftermath."
"Looks like we'll both be having a bad day. Just don't forget to rest. Shrinks prey on weakness," he smirked.
"I'll try, but work is more important right now. And the same to you: enjoy some days off sleeping in your own bed with working cable," I smiled. He smiled in response and watched me leave.
Around four in the morning, I finished processing the last piece of evidence. I gathered the paperwork and submitted it around five, just in time to see Cragen walking in. He sighed and accepted my paperwork.
"Go home," he said quietly, setting the file down on the corner of his desk. "And don't come back until after you get some sleep."
"I'll come by after my appointment this afternoon," I responded. He sat down and looked over to me.
"How do you feel about that appointment?"
"I think it's been established how much I need it, but I'm still nervous. He's just asking questions today, but I still don't know how it will go."
"You must be a planner," Cragen murmured. I nodded in agreement. "Listen, just do what you have to do and put it out of your mind. You need to relax, and after working yourself like a dog, you need some sleep. Go home, and take care of yourself."
I obeyed, but sleeping proved hard. The couch I was sleeping on was perfectly fine, but my mind wouldn't calm. So I turned on some music using his entertainment center. All he had were some records that weren't my taste, but it was better than my own thoughts.
I didn't realize I had slept until my alarm went off. I had an hour to get to my appointment, meaning I had slept for five straight hours.
I took a quick shower and rode my bike to the office. I locked it beside the building and went inside.
After filling out a mound of paperwork, I was called back. I shook hands with the doctor, a Dr. Illias. He had me sit in a comfortable chair by a window while he sat on a stool in front of me.
"I just wanted to ask questions today if you don't mind. We're going to start in the beginning of your life and work our way up, alright?" he asked. I nodded, and he began. "How was your childhood?"
"Happy and prosperous."
"What was your family dynamic? Were your parents married? How many siblings did you have?"
"We were a typical family. My parents married and had two children. I have an older brother who's in the Navy. I haven't seen him in four years thanks to our jobs."
"What were your parents' careers? How did you choose yours? Do you like your job?"
"My father was a banker, and my mother was a homebody who used her hobbies for any extra money. I've always liked law enforcement, though I was thinking homely sheriff when I attended. I met another person in college who is now my best friend, and she led me to the agent's life. We went into the GBI together and I was there until a few weeks ago."
"Why the change in careers?"
"My husband was killed. He was considered a special victim, and...I wanted to help catch his killer, but I couldn't. I had this void because of it, so I put in for a job here in New York for a position in their Special Victims Unit. I wanted a change in location too. I love Georgia and the South, but...I wanted a new challenge to go with my new life."
"Have you gotten closure for your husband's death or are you still trying to find it through your career?"
"His killer his dead, and the killer's copycat accomplice is in prison, so I do have some closure. And though my career has taken a different turn, I see it's good. I'm helping others find closure, and it's rewarding."
"What's your job now if it didn't work out?"
"I process crime scenes specifically for the Special Victims Unit, and while one of their investigators is out of work on an injury, I'm filling in while fulfilling my other duties."
"This sounds stressful. What do you do to relieve it?"
"I've always enjoyed cooking as a stress release, but I also just relax some. Music seems to help too."
"What about friends? Do you have any in New York?"
"I stayed with some friends when I first got here, but they're new parents, so we don't talk much. I'm still in heavy contact with my old partner at the GBI. She and I are very close, and I don't see that changing any time soon. Also, my new coworker, mentor, and new roommate and I are good friends. He's currently in the hospital from an injury, but I consider him a good friend already."
"What have you done to get more?"
"I've been working, and chilling out isn't really a priority while I'm in my current position. I'll probably go to comedy clubs or something, but I'm content with what I have."
"I'm going to push into some hard ground now. Are you up for that?" he asked. I nodded quietly, knowing where he was going. "I want to talk about your husband, but you can choose where we start, what we talk about, and anything else, but I'm not going to push you if you don't want to talk."
"I want to talk about him," I whispered. "Grieving for him has been my life, you know? After he died, I had to move from our home because it was too much. Sean was my life, and without him in it, I needed a change."
"He meant a lot to you?"
"More than you could imagine," I sighed. "We were best friends, not just lovers. Our marriage was only a formality: we would've been together anyway."
"You mentioned that you needed to change your life because he wasn't in it, so you had to what? Push him out?"
"No! Of course not. I needed out of the lifestyle he and I had together because without him, that lifestyle made no sense to me. We used to do things on the weekend with Leslie and her husband, and we'd do little romantic things for each other if the other didn't get home until late. My change of residence and careers wasn't to forget; it was to keep from groveling. Believe me, he's still a major part of my life."
"What special things do you do for him?"
"I have a florist in Georgia make an arrangement for him every week. I still carry his picture with me. He did the same for me though I never did it before he died," I whispered, pulling the picture from my breast pocket. "My friend Leslie made a scrapbook about us too. We were all good friends."
"I'll be honest with you, Monty: I think you're behaving normally and coping well. Yet, you gave me private statements from a John Munch and your boss. They said you were having episodes about Sean, so could you explain that?"
"When Sean was killed, we didn't know he was killed by a serial rapist. Both his rapist and killer and the killer's copycat accomplice came to New York. I was working the case and...I started putting two and two together. I never expected that, so I did have some episodes. Even if you're not in crime, you don't expect your new job to connect to your personal life in such a way."
"Our time is almost up, but...I'll leave it up to you whether or not you want to come back. I think you could use help to continue working through, but I think you're on a decent path on your own."
"I think my boss would want for me to stick it out. I'll be back," I responded. He nodded, shaking my hand and having his secretary gather my next appointment.
A few minutes later, I was riding my bike to the precinct, letting the cool afternoon air calm my soul.