| A Matter of Trust |
| Lennie leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. He'd felt so good this morning. The short time he'd spent with Damian last night had done wonders for his spirit. The amazing thing was that they hadn't had sex; it wasn't about that at all. It had been about comfort. Damian was a very open and affectionate man; everything that Jack McCoy wasn't. And yet his thoughts still kept going back to the tortured man he'd seen break down the past weekend. If only there was some way he could share some of that comfort with Jack. The case was going nowhere. They didn't have any physical evidence. So far no luck in turning up the cleaning service that Dave theoretically worked for. A review of the past six months showed only one reported male rape. Lennie was actually surprised that there had been even one. The victim refused to talk to them, saying he wasn't willing to re-open that wound. He was so deep in thought that he barely heard the phone ring. Curtis picked it up, then put the line on hold. "Lennie? It's for you. Dr. Olivet." Elizabeth Olivet was a psychologist who was on contract with the city. She often evaluated witnesses, and sometimes worked with personnel who'd had difficult situations. She'd worked with Lennie's first partner at the 2-7, Mike Logan, after his previous two partners had been shot on the job, the first dying, the second transferring off the front lines. // Fat lot of good that did. // Logan never did learn to control that famous temper of his � but he finally did come to accept Lennie as his partner, so maybe Olivet did him some good after all. Lennie picked up the phone. "Briscoe." "Hello, Detective. This is Dr. Olivet. I wonder if I could talk to you for a bit about Jack McCoy?" Lennie hesitated. "Um, Doc, I don't know �" "Detective, it's all right. I had a long talk with Jack this morning at Adam Schiff's request. If I'm going to help him, I need to know everything. Talking to those the patient is close to can help a lot. I know you can't talk freely there. I was hoping we could meet sometime tomorrow?" Apparently Schiff had been able to pound some sense into Jack's thick skull. Lennie felt strangely grateful to the DA for that. Maybe there was still hope. "Yeah, that would be good." "Can I treat you to lunch somewhere?" Lennie named a fairly quiet restaurant not far from the precinct, and they agreed to meet there Wednesday at noon. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wednesday morning found Jack McCoy at St. Barnabus Hospital, standing outside ICU. His badge as an officer of the Court had gotten him access to this patient, one Daniel Sandhu. He lay there, unmoving, the steady beep of a heart monitor the only sound. No one sat outside anxiously waiting for him to wake up. Sandhu's face was badly battered and bruised. What Dave had done to Jack a week before had just been a warm up. This time he'd battered the poor man senseless. The rest of his injuries weren't too extensive; if he'd just wake up he'd have a good chance of recovering. If � If � the word haunted Jack. If he'd reported his attack the previous week, this man might not be here. It was at least partly his fault. Then there was the other if � if he'd not pushed Lennie away, he wouldn't have been at the bar last weekend. This poor man might still be here, but Jack would have been safe. This terrible feeling of helplessness would never have taken control of him. The ache, the longing for some primal innocence lost in that frightful attack. He didn't know if he could ever feel safe again; if he could ever trust anybody again. He sighed as his thoughts fled back to yesterday's discussion with Liz Olivet. Jack hated shrinks, but on the whole Liz was ok. After the darkness of the past few days, and seeing how deeply his situation affected his friend and mentor, he had reluctantly come to the conclusion that maybe he needed some help this time. The morning's session left him feeling drained. Liz had been ruthless, knowing from experience that he wouldn't respond to kindness. He felt like his very soul had been torn from his body, held up to the light, and found wanting. Yes, he'd suffered a terrible fate. A violation of body and spirit. It didn't make him any less a man. He knew that intellectually, but his heart wasn't listening. His heart was cowering deep inside, isolated, for to accept comfort was to admit he needed it. Something he'd never been very good at. He'd spent the afternoon thinking about what the good doctor had said. It echoed in his mind until it came close to driving him crazy. So much of his self image was tied up in his independence and self-reliance. He didn't need friends or lovers. Didn't have time for them. Work was everything he needed. And he was damned good at it. So why was he wasting time with this touchy-feely stuff? Still, the thought of facing all those people at work who would have to know what happened terrified him. Adam had told him to take as much time off as he needed. So now he was torn between facing people at work and sitting around his apartment with nothing to do but think. He had started thinking about work, and what Adam had said about this case. In his heart, he knew Adam was right. He thought back to all the cases where the prosecution of a real bastard had been hindered because a victim wouldn't cooperate. He understood now some of the fear he had seen in their eyes. Fear of being exposed as gay. Wanting to just get on with his life instead of dwelling on that frightful night. But somehow he had to get past it, do his job. This time he was victim and witness instead of prosecutor, but that didn't decrease his responsibility for putting this bastard away for good. Of course, that meant working with Lennie Briscoe. That might be the hardest thing of all to face. The detective had seen his breakdown, seen him at his weakest. He didn't know if he could ever look the man in the eyes again. No one knew better than Briscoe how weak he'd been, how helpless. And yet � there had been compassion in those soft eyes, not contempt. He'd offered comfort, and Jack pulled away. Of course, it went deeper than that. What had Adam said Monday night? He'd been lying to himself about his feelings for the cop. He remembered that moment in the bar when he spotted Lennie with Damian Jade. The pain had been real. But now, even if he wanted to, there was no way they could ever go back to the relationship they'd had. He'd ruined that by running away from the first man who'd ever given him anything more than a brief moment's physical pleasure. And now he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to touch a man again � Jack shook his head, as if trying to clear out the cobwebs. One last time he gazed at the man laying there in the ICU. About his age, worked over at Neil Gordon's law firm. Hmm.. he wondered if Jamie knew him? Another gay man who worked too hard to fill the void? Whatever the reason, Jack felt responsible. Time to face the music. Even if it meant facing Briscoe � ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lennie was a little late getting to his lunch meeting with Dr. Olivet. She was already sitting at a table, sipping a glass of iced tea. "Detective, thank you for coming." Lennie sat down opposite her at the table. "If there's anything I can do to help Jack, I'll do it." "He's very important to you, isn't he?" Lennie sighed. "Yeah." "Lennie � may I call you that?" Briscoe nodded. "I think you know how serious this is. As a police officer, you've worked with rape victims before?" Lennie nodded. "Somehow it seems even worse when it's a friend." "Yes. A friend - he's more than that, isn't he?" Lennie sighed. "I thought we were. But even before this happened, he pulled away. Like he was afraid of it going beyond just � sex." Lennie watched the doctor carefully; he was assuming she knew the gory details. Olivet smiled softly. "Relax, Lennie. Your secret is safe with me. Jack has always been a difficult person to get close to. Adam Schiff told me some of the details of what happened, but I'd like to hear your version." So for the next half hour, Lennie poured out his soul to the doctor. When he finished, she nodded sadly. "About what I'd expect from him. I've known him for several years, and never gotten past that shield he keeps us. Usually with a rape victim, I talk about the need to learn how to trust again after being violated. But for Jack, I don't think there's any 'again.' He never did learn how to trust. He's got twice as far to go as a 'normal' patient would." Lennie nodded sadly. "I think you're right, Doc." "For him to learn to trust, he needs someone to trust. He's still reluctant to admit it, but he does care for you, Lennie. I know he walked out. Are you still willing to be there for him?" "Yeah, I am." Lennie spoke softly, and Liz could see the bond was still strong, at least on this end. "It won't be easy." "I know. It wasn't easy for me to walk away from the booze, either, but I did it." She smiled. "Jack's a lucky man to have such a friend. But Lennie, keep it at friends, ok? It's likely to be a very long time before he's ready for anything more than that." "I know. But we were friends first, and that's what I miss more than anything." "Good." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Shortly after lunch, a forlorn figure made it's way through the 'bullpen' of the 27th precinct, aiming for one particular desk. Lennie was bent over, reading something, didn't hear the man coming to stand behind him. He only looked up when Rey nosiliy cleared his throat. Since his partner was looking pointedly over his shoulder, Lennie sat up and turned around, looking right into the haunted eyes of Jack McCoy. Before he could speak, McCoy jumped in. "Gentlemen, I owe you both an apology for Saturday morning. I did not act as an officer of the court should have; I lied to you both. I'd like to set the record straight." Lennie's voice seemed to have deserted him, so Rey picked it up. "Of course. Let's find somewhere to talk." He got up and they moved into a conference room, one without a one-way window. The EADA was dressed as usual in a suit, but the bruises on his face were still visible, as well as the nasty cut on his cheek. But the overall impression was one of a man pushed beyond his limits; haunted eyes, dark circles below them. His posture was tense, as if he expected this to go badly. His eyes kept darting to Lennie. Rey tried to put him at ease. "Jack, can I get you some coffee or something?" A quick shake of the head was his only answer. Lennie finally found his voice. "Jack, don't worry about Saturday. Believe me, we understand. What matters is that you're here now. That took a lot of courage." Again, the head shake. "Courage would have been speaking up when it happened." Lennie shrugged. "Courage is in speaking up any time. So tell us." Jack swallowed once, trying to lubricate his suddenly parched mouth. "You were right. I � I was � raped." He looked up into Lennie's eyes. Much to his relief, the only thing he saw there now was the carefully neutral gaze of the cop. Lennie nodded. "Jack, you don't have to recount the whole thing. But we need your help in tracking down this bastard. You told me that he took you to a vacant apartment, probably within a couple of blocks from where you were found." Jack nodded. "We found a place that seems to fit the bill. It's no longer vacant, somebody moved in this weekend and the place has been professionally cleaned, so CSU didn't find any evidence in the apartment. But there was a blood stain on the door jamb of the stairwell, about head-high. Do you remember leaning against it on your way out?" Jack shook his head. "I was pretty foggy at the time." "That's ok. We got a sample, we'd like a control sample from you to test against it. It it's yours, we've got the location confirmed." Mutely, Jack nodded. "When you got there, did he open the apartment with a key?" Another nod. "Did he say anything about where he worked or what he did for a living?" "No. It was just supposed to be a one-time thing. We didn't get � personal." Lennie nodded. "Jack, are you willing to file a complaint?" McCoy took a deep breath. "Yes." Lennie finally allowed himself a smile. "Good, Jack. That's good. I typed one up after our conversation Saturday evening. Let me get it; you can read it over and make any corrections, ok?" Jack looked up with a sigh of relief as he realized he wasn't going to have to tell it all again. It would be hard enough reading it, but compared to saying the words � he felt a deep gratitude to Lennie for this. He managed a slight smile. "Th �thank you." Lennie nodded and left to get the file. Jack looked up at Rey Curtis. "Detective �" Rey shook his head. "We're good, Jack. We've got your back now. Don't worry." The animosity of their last encounter was gone, forgotten in the larger issues that now dominated. Again, Jack just nodded. Part of him couldn't believe he wasn't being judged and found wanting. These men knew the worst, but still treated him with respect. // They're cops, you idiot. They treat all victims like this. It's professional, not personal. // He wondered if the personal reaction would be any different. Lennie returned with the document, and a glass of water, which Jack accepted gratefully. "Come on, Rey, let's give him a few minutes to go over it." The detectives left the room. Jack gulped at the water, putting off for another few moments the pain of seeing it in black and white. Finally he forced his eyes down to the document. It was all very clinical and impersonal. In a way the legalese made it easier to deal with; put it in his 'native language' as it were. Even so, by the time he finished he was shaking. He was barely able to make the few needed corrections, things either he'd left out the first time, or Lennie hadn't remembered correctly. He put the pen back into his pocket and bent down over the table, burying his face in his arms, sobbing softly. Half an hour later, Lennie tapped softly on the door and stepped in, closing the door behind him. Jack sat up, grateful that at least his tears had run out. But he knew Briscoe could see he'd been crying. "I know that had to be hard, Jack. Thank you for doing it," Lennie said softly. Jack took a deep breath, and reached for the rest of the water. "Had to be done. After all the witnesses I've hounded over the years, how could I not do the right thing? I'd never be able to look myself in the mirror again." Lennie's lips quirked in a half smile and nodded. Jack stared at him, a million conflicting emotions fighting in his heart. After what he'd done, he had no right to expect Lennie to be anything but the professional he was. And yet he wished he could see that light of compassion he'd gotten a glimpse of on Saturday. "Lennie �" Lennie shook his head, thinking back to his conversation at lunch with Olivet. Jack had cracked the door open; now it was his move. "You know, back when I first got sober, the hardest part was going home to an empty apartment. At work, you can at least forget for a while. Alone, you've got too much time to think." Jack nodded, his eyes downcast. "You going in to the office now?" "I � planned to, but now I'm not so sure �" Lennie nodded. "They can survive without you the rest of today. I was thinking - if you want, we could meet for dinner at that pub near your place? Shoot some pool, maybe I'll even let you trounce me at darts." Jack looked up, surprised. The neutral cop was gone; that soft compassion was back. And yet it wasn't a smothering feeling the way it had felt on Saturday. It was gentle and undemanding, offering companionship and asking nothing more in return. He took a shuddering breath. "Thank you. I � I'd like that." Lennie smiled softly. "Why don't you head out then, I'll see you there at 6." Jack smiled back and got up. Much to his surprise, Lennie offered his hand in a simple, professional handshake. Jack looked into his eyes as he hesitantly took it. It was a non-threatening gesture, and yet that simple contact warmed his heart. "At 6." As Lennie watched Jack leave the precinct, he was hopeful that the healing had begun. Continue on to Chapter 23 Send me some Feedback Back to the Story Index Disclaimer: These characters belong to Dick Wolf and NBC. I'm just borrowing them for fun, not profit. |
| Chapter 22 |