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12/6/11 16:36![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
telarynTitle: Consequences
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
telaryn
Word Count: 669
Fandom: Law & Order
Characters: Jack McCoy, Lennie Briscoe
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character death (not Jack or Lennie). Spoilers for L & O episode "Aftershock".
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit obtained.
Summary: Jack finds out about the hit-and-run accident that ended the episode "Aftershock".
Author's Note: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
angst_bingo, for the prompt "drunkeness/inebriation".
Claire... Even without the hangover, Jack suspected he wouldn't have enough functioning brain cells to make sense of what had happened or how he'd gotten to this point. Claire was dead. She was dead and he would never have a chance to make things okay again, never be able to apologize for being an arrogant, unrepentent ass.
He was losing his mind. “At least my father would have been up front about being a self-centered jackass,”he muttered. Claire's parents were talking to Lieutenant Van Buren. Jack knew he should join them, knew he needed to say the right words of condolence, but he couldn't make himself move.
“It was a couple hours after you called that cab.” Lennie had come up on him while he was lost in his own confusion. “Counselor.”
Jack nodded automatically at the greeting. “Detective.” He groped through the alcohol blasted corridors of his memory for the little information he'd managed to squeeze out of the officer who'd brought him to the hospital. “You were with her?”
Lennie Briscoe was known for his ability to crack wise in the most horrible circumstances. Jack had stood with him over more than one corpse while the detective let loose with puns that made everyone in hearing distance wince.
That man belonged to a different world and a different lifetime; a world where Jack's last words to Claire hadn't been full of his usual smug arrogance. “Did she...” Jack began, then cleared his throat and tried again. “Did she suffer?”
Briscoe stared at him. Jack hadn't realized he could actually feel worse than he did when the officer first broke the news. “God,” he groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “This isn't happening.”
“Yeah,” Lennie agreed. “I said that too while I was trying to get her blood off my hands.”
Stung by the reference, Jack looked at the other man again. “This wasn't your fault, detective. It was a hit and run, right?” He searched Briscoe's eyes and was stunned to see how haunted the grizzled senior detective was. “It wasn't your fault,” Jack repeated – finally sober enough to understand that this was an experience Lennie might not be able to come back from.
“It was mine,” he said finally, the true weight of his guilt hitting him like the proverbial ton of bricks. “I should have called back...should have told her I was getting a cab.”
“You were drunk,” Lennie said, his attitude softening somewhat. “You didn't think.”
McCoy laughed bitterly. Drunk? he thought, remembering his state of mind as he'd left the bar. You were pissed. In more ways than one. “To hell with her, remember?” he asked Briscoe, his eyes suddenly burning with tears. “I did think. I liked the idea that she'd end up driving all the way down there for nothing. It was petty and mean and...” His voice was strangled into silence by the sobs suddenly ripping their way out of his chest.
Your fault. This was your fault. He was barely aware of hands on his arms, supporting him and guiding him into a nearby chair. They'd never said they loved each other, but he'd cared for her. She knew he cared for her – he'd seen it in her eyes on so many occasions. Mostly those times she teased him as they worked together, taking liberties he never would have allowed from someone he wasn't involved with.
Gradually Jack became aware of his surroundings again. “I'm sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, looking at Lennie again. “I feel like this is a nightmare and I don't know how to make it stop.” He glanced down the hall at Claire's parents again. “What do I even say to them?”
Briscoe sighed heavily. “You're askin' the wrong person, Counselor. I'm trapped here same as you.”
Author:
telarynWord Count: 669
Fandom: Law & Order
Characters: Jack McCoy, Lennie Briscoe
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character death (not Jack or Lennie). Spoilers for L & O episode "Aftershock".
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit obtained.
Summary: Jack finds out about the hit-and-run accident that ended the episode "Aftershock".
Author's Note: Written for
angst_bingo, for the prompt "drunkeness/inebriation".Claire... Even without the hangover, Jack suspected he wouldn't have enough functioning brain cells to make sense of what had happened or how he'd gotten to this point. Claire was dead. She was dead and he would never have a chance to make things okay again, never be able to apologize for being an arrogant, unrepentent ass.
He was losing his mind. “At least my father would have been up front about being a self-centered jackass,”he muttered. Claire's parents were talking to Lieutenant Van Buren. Jack knew he should join them, knew he needed to say the right words of condolence, but he couldn't make himself move.
“It was a couple hours after you called that cab.” Lennie had come up on him while he was lost in his own confusion. “Counselor.”
Jack nodded automatically at the greeting. “Detective.” He groped through the alcohol blasted corridors of his memory for the little information he'd managed to squeeze out of the officer who'd brought him to the hospital. “You were with her?”
Lennie Briscoe was known for his ability to crack wise in the most horrible circumstances. Jack had stood with him over more than one corpse while the detective let loose with puns that made everyone in hearing distance wince.
That man belonged to a different world and a different lifetime; a world where Jack's last words to Claire hadn't been full of his usual smug arrogance. “Did she...” Jack began, then cleared his throat and tried again. “Did she suffer?”
Briscoe stared at him. Jack hadn't realized he could actually feel worse than he did when the officer first broke the news. “God,” he groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “This isn't happening.”
“Yeah,” Lennie agreed. “I said that too while I was trying to get her blood off my hands.”
Stung by the reference, Jack looked at the other man again. “This wasn't your fault, detective. It was a hit and run, right?” He searched Briscoe's eyes and was stunned to see how haunted the grizzled senior detective was. “It wasn't your fault,” Jack repeated – finally sober enough to understand that this was an experience Lennie might not be able to come back from.
“It was mine,” he said finally, the true weight of his guilt hitting him like the proverbial ton of bricks. “I should have called back...should have told her I was getting a cab.”
“You were drunk,” Lennie said, his attitude softening somewhat. “You didn't think.”
McCoy laughed bitterly. Drunk? he thought, remembering his state of mind as he'd left the bar. You were pissed. In more ways than one. “To hell with her, remember?” he asked Briscoe, his eyes suddenly burning with tears. “I did think. I liked the idea that she'd end up driving all the way down there for nothing. It was petty and mean and...” His voice was strangled into silence by the sobs suddenly ripping their way out of his chest.
Your fault. This was your fault. He was barely aware of hands on his arms, supporting him and guiding him into a nearby chair. They'd never said they loved each other, but he'd cared for her. She knew he cared for her – he'd seen it in her eyes on so many occasions. Mostly those times she teased him as they worked together, taking liberties he never would have allowed from someone he wasn't involved with.
Gradually Jack became aware of his surroundings again. “I'm sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, looking at Lennie again. “I feel like this is a nightmare and I don't know how to make it stop.” He glanced down the hall at Claire's parents again. “What do I even say to them?”
Briscoe sighed heavily. “You're askin' the wrong person, Counselor. I'm trapped here same as you.”
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