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Title: Broken
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Law & Order
Pairing: Jack McCoy/Lennie Briscoe
Rating: PG
Warnings: Character Death [Lennie and Deborah]
Summary: Lennie’s wake. Can be seen as a sequel to “Hope”.
Dis: Not mine. Belongs to NBC and all those people.
Author’s Notes: This can be a sequel to “Hope”, or it can stand alone. Not happy.
Broken
By Perpetual Motion
There were no booze at the wake. Jack wouldn’t allow it. It would be an insult to Lennie’s memory if everyone at the wake was too drunk to stand. No one said anything, but Jack caught the flash of a flask in more than one corner and had to tighten his grip on his own glass of soda to keep from going over and requesting a hit.
“He had a lot of friends.”
Jack turned around and gave what he was sure was a watery smile to Jamie. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Jamie patted him on the back and leaned against the bar next to him. “Do you know many of these people?”
“No, but they all seemed to know him.” Jack had been bombarded with stories by nearly everyone in the room, from people who had walked a beat to Lennie’s last partner in the DA’s office. “Everyone had a story.” And no one had told one of a time when Lennie was drunk. Jack appreciated the respect Lennie was being shown. It took a lot to outlive a drunken reputation. Lennie had done it. It made Jack ache that he couldn’t have outlived other things. “How’s the bench?”
Jamie shrugged. “It’s the bench.” She gave him the same piercing look she had pinned on him when they worked together. “You’re cracking.”
“It’s showing, huh?” Jack finished his soda and plunked his glass down on the bar. “I just…” He trailed off. He didn’t quite know what to say. “I’m going to step outside.”
“Okay.” Jamie touched her fingers to Jack’s shoulders and watched him walk away.
Outside was crisp and cold. Jack didn’t feel it as he leaned against the building and tucked into himself. He heard the door open to his right, but he didn’t look up. He wanted to be left alone. He wanted to wallow.
“Counselor.”
Jack didn’t look up. “Detective Curtis.” He hoped his tone conveyed his mood well enough for Curtis to live him alone.
“I always thought he’d die grizzled and aged during a story of the golden days.” Obviously Curtis had lost the ability to read tone. Desk work made some detectives sloppy.
“Go away, Detective.”
Curtis ignored the advice. “He was the toughest guy I knew. He was the best partner I had. I remember when his daughter was killed, and I tried to take him home with me, but he insisted on going to your place. I hadn’t even known about the two of you. He knew how to keep a secret.”
Jack finally looked up and glared at Curtis. “What the hell do you want, Detective? I’m trying to be alone.”
Curtis spoke softly. “He knew how to keep a secret. I didn’t know he was sick.” He looked near crying. “I talked to him once a week every week since I left, and I had no idea. And no one told me.”
“He didn’t want anyone to know. He thought he could beat it.” Jack hunched over a little more as the wind picked up. “Obviously, he didn’t.” He didn’t have to look over to know that Curtis was looking wounded. Jack waited for the rebuff.
“My wife died eight months ago. The MS beat her.” Curtis pushed off the wall and gave Jack a long look. “I have a feeling of what you’re going through, if you want to come out of your shell.” He stood in place, hands jammed in his pockets, and watched Jack.
Something in Jack cracked open, and he suddenly found himself with tears in his eyes. “After Claire died, I told myself that I was at the end of the line. No more dating. No more looking for companionship. I was going to be old and alone. I told Lennie the same thing when he and I were at Claire’s wake. And now, here I am, old and alone and broken again.” Jack shook his head and pressed his fingertips against the corners of his eyes. “I can handle old and alone. It’s the broken that’s going to kill me.” Jack felt Curtis’s hand on his shoulder, but he was too tired to throw it off. He didn’t want sympathy. He had sympathy coming out his ears. He was fucking tired of sympathy. He waited for Curtis to say something reassuring and overly kind. Instead, a business card was pressed to his chest.
“My home number’s on the back. You should come around. The girls heard all kinds of stories about you from Lennie. Especially recently. They want to meet you.” Curtis waited for Jack to take the card before he turned on his heel and went back into the building.
Jack stared at the card for a few seconds, then tipped his head back and looked up at the sky. “You goddamned son-of-a-bitch. You knew you weren’t going to win. Why didn’t you *tell* me?” Jack looked at the card again and carefully tucked it away into his jacket pocket. “Claire better be lecturing the hell out of you right now.” He shook his head and walked back into the wake.
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Law & Order
Pairing: Jack McCoy/Lennie Briscoe
Rating: PG
Warnings: Character Death [Lennie and Deborah]
Summary: Lennie’s wake. Can be seen as a sequel to “Hope”.
Dis: Not mine. Belongs to NBC and all those people.
Author’s Notes: This can be a sequel to “Hope”, or it can stand alone. Not happy.
Broken
By Perpetual Motion
There were no booze at the wake. Jack wouldn’t allow it. It would be an insult to Lennie’s memory if everyone at the wake was too drunk to stand. No one said anything, but Jack caught the flash of a flask in more than one corner and had to tighten his grip on his own glass of soda to keep from going over and requesting a hit.
“He had a lot of friends.”
Jack turned around and gave what he was sure was a watery smile to Jamie. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Jamie patted him on the back and leaned against the bar next to him. “Do you know many of these people?”
“No, but they all seemed to know him.” Jack had been bombarded with stories by nearly everyone in the room, from people who had walked a beat to Lennie’s last partner in the DA’s office. “Everyone had a story.” And no one had told one of a time when Lennie was drunk. Jack appreciated the respect Lennie was being shown. It took a lot to outlive a drunken reputation. Lennie had done it. It made Jack ache that he couldn’t have outlived other things. “How’s the bench?”
Jamie shrugged. “It’s the bench.” She gave him the same piercing look she had pinned on him when they worked together. “You’re cracking.”
“It’s showing, huh?” Jack finished his soda and plunked his glass down on the bar. “I just…” He trailed off. He didn’t quite know what to say. “I’m going to step outside.”
“Okay.” Jamie touched her fingers to Jack’s shoulders and watched him walk away.
Outside was crisp and cold. Jack didn’t feel it as he leaned against the building and tucked into himself. He heard the door open to his right, but he didn’t look up. He wanted to be left alone. He wanted to wallow.
“Counselor.”
Jack didn’t look up. “Detective Curtis.” He hoped his tone conveyed his mood well enough for Curtis to live him alone.
“I always thought he’d die grizzled and aged during a story of the golden days.” Obviously Curtis had lost the ability to read tone. Desk work made some detectives sloppy.
“Go away, Detective.”
Curtis ignored the advice. “He was the toughest guy I knew. He was the best partner I had. I remember when his daughter was killed, and I tried to take him home with me, but he insisted on going to your place. I hadn’t even known about the two of you. He knew how to keep a secret.”
Jack finally looked up and glared at Curtis. “What the hell do you want, Detective? I’m trying to be alone.”
Curtis spoke softly. “He knew how to keep a secret. I didn’t know he was sick.” He looked near crying. “I talked to him once a week every week since I left, and I had no idea. And no one told me.”
“He didn’t want anyone to know. He thought he could beat it.” Jack hunched over a little more as the wind picked up. “Obviously, he didn’t.” He didn’t have to look over to know that Curtis was looking wounded. Jack waited for the rebuff.
“My wife died eight months ago. The MS beat her.” Curtis pushed off the wall and gave Jack a long look. “I have a feeling of what you’re going through, if you want to come out of your shell.” He stood in place, hands jammed in his pockets, and watched Jack.
Something in Jack cracked open, and he suddenly found himself with tears in his eyes. “After Claire died, I told myself that I was at the end of the line. No more dating. No more looking for companionship. I was going to be old and alone. I told Lennie the same thing when he and I were at Claire’s wake. And now, here I am, old and alone and broken again.” Jack shook his head and pressed his fingertips against the corners of his eyes. “I can handle old and alone. It’s the broken that’s going to kill me.” Jack felt Curtis’s hand on his shoulder, but he was too tired to throw it off. He didn’t want sympathy. He had sympathy coming out his ears. He was fucking tired of sympathy. He waited for Curtis to say something reassuring and overly kind. Instead, a business card was pressed to his chest.
“My home number’s on the back. You should come around. The girls heard all kinds of stories about you from Lennie. Especially recently. They want to meet you.” Curtis waited for Jack to take the card before he turned on his heel and went back into the building.
Jack stared at the card for a few seconds, then tipped his head back and looked up at the sky. “You goddamned son-of-a-bitch. You knew you weren’t going to win. Why didn’t you *tell* me?” Jack looked at the card again and carefully tucked it away into his jacket pocket. “Claire better be lecturing the hell out of you right now.” He shook his head and walked back into the wake.
no subject
on 2005-03-19 06:19 am (UTC)I'm behind, but I loved that. Seriously, you need to write more L&O, whenever you can.
Also, I hope everything is okay. *hugs*