Jason Richman and the rest of Remainder Men, Mandeville Television, ABC Studios, etc., own Fitch, et al. Joss and Mutant Enemy own Kate, et al. The Departed.
Dir. Martin Scorsese." Warner Bros.: 2006, Film. Eminem, feat. Dr. Dre, Xhibit, Snoop Dog. "Marshall Mathers LP.". Aftermath, 2001.Summary:
"Give it a rest, Washington," Sanchez said, speaking for the first time in a very long while. "Fitch is right, we have dinner. We can..." she shrugged in a still obviously unnerved way. "Digest...or something."Notes:
Well. So I've been reading the first book in the Evil Genius
trilogy by Catherine Jinks and it might influence any of this (though not plot-wise because that's set in Australia). I'm not sure, really, because my muse and brain both do what they want with a story. Also, I just love these chapters that spontaneously split themselves into pieces. *sighs and shakes head*Notes, cont'd.: The Departed
wanted to be a part of my little universe here, especially because I already mentioned Boston in the earlier parts, so let's go ahead, be specific, and say South Boston.Notes, three:
'Receiving' is Detroit Receiving Hospital, one of the oldest hospitals in the city and one that is still operating. And I'm tired of calling the baby 'the baby', so he gets a name this chapter, even if possible canon will say different. Lastly, there's a joke in here that only Adoxerella
will likely get. Don't worry, it's very small.Timeline:
1.17, Motor City Blues/1.18, Blackout; post-ANGEL: After the Fall. During The Departed
, immediately Ofc. William Costigan, Jr.'s funeral but the ending hasn't happened yet.Spoilers:
The entire canon as it stands for both Detroit 1-8-7 and ANGEL, though only up to 'Immortality for Dummies' because that's all I've read up to so far. I'm working on getting 'Crown Prince Syndrome' (possibly aka 'Connorland', which hee.). Nearly the entirety of The Departed
for language.Part IV: Immersione nel fuoco - B...You're found dead in your garage with 10 o'clock news coverage...Gotta love it, 'cause I expose the façade...
Dead silence rang as Fitch finished the monologue and lecture he'd heard so many times over his adolescence, he could recite it in his sleep, followed by Bobby actually pulling up the Demons, Demons, Demons
website on his cell phone and giving his godparents and Sanchez all a good look.
Washington blinked, taking a breath, followed by another and then whispering, "Is there any chance schizophrenia is contagious?"
"María, Madre de Dios," Sanchez muttered under her breath, blessing herself before staring at Fitch again in shock. She didn't answer Washington's question.
Fitch fought not to roll his eyes and, instead shook his head, "You know it's not. None of you has to stay here and believe this. I'm being one-hundred percent honest here, none of you wants to know any of this - we could have it taken care of that you don't."
"Wait, what? You'll, you'll what - wipe our minds?" Washington fought not to burst out, glancing back at the normal
world outside in the squadroom. He glanced at Lauren and Sanchez and found them each gripping each other's hands.
"I couldn't do it, but someone else skilled in memory reconstruction could. I'm thinking Angel might be able to - he's pretty good with magick, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce could have done it easily, but he was killed by Cyvus Vail, Kate tells me, before Los Angeles went to Hell for the summer as punishment for Angel's rebellion against the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart. Look..."
Fitch ran his hand through his hair again and Washington could see he was visibly distraught, disgusted with himself for what he was putting them all through. Damon glanced again at his son and wife and then down at his godson, who - by now - had rejoined his father and was holding onto his back, leading Fitch to turn back around and hug Bobby tightly again.
That was when Washington decided. If a thirteen-year-old boy could be strong in his heritage and the knowledge of the hells
around them, then he would because he was a man and had to be strong for his
family, which - by his own choice - now included nearly, possibly everyone in this room if Fitch would get his head out of his ass about Sanchez anytime soon.
He had agreed to this, he'd agreed to support Fitch and go with whatever his partner, his friend
was dealing with because in the end, it affected them both. Their sons were now brothers in everything but blood and Washington knew
Bobby would protect his little brother
with everything in his young body.
It was the way he'd been raised and in his blood with or without his father's own troubles adding to the mix.
Washington considered for a second more, then said, "Naw, don't - don't wipe my mind. I can deal. I can at least protect my - our family if we know what's really out there. I can have a clue what the h - what I'm doing."
The expression of relief on Fitch's face was all the reassurance he needed that he wasn't running away. Fitch had lost enough already, Washington refused to consciously add to the mix. He'd already been shot, after all. He and Fitch hadn't been close back then, but the man had
come to Receiving to see him even though he really hadn't had to. He could be there for Fitch now, he owed the - his partner, his brother
so much already.
Washington was about to say as much when Fitch's phone rang, the tone jarring the silence and making Bobby and Lauren both jump. Fitch put up a finger and glanced at the screen, astonishment registering on his face when he saw the number before he glanced at the former Det. Lockley (it occurred to Damon that 'Lockley' was Fitch's middle name, according to his godson) and answered.
Damon studied Lockley's face then, the same astonishment coming to hers, and - which Damon didn't expect - Bobby's faces. Apparently his godson knew who his father was talking to, as well.
"Maddie, Maddie, calm down, okay? I can't understand you when yer cryin' and - "
Damon found himself surprised, again, as Fitch's voice took on an accent he'd never heard from him. Ten years in Detroit and the man still sounded like the New Yorker he was born and mostly raised as, but the second he'd answered that call, you'd swear he was from Boston or somewhere close.
"Maddie. Calm down. Ya gotta calm - what, Katie? Is - how'd you know Katie's - okay, yeah, SIU, you can get someone to tap any phone in the country you want and trace it, fine. Why'd ya call my phone if ya want ter talk ter Katie?"
Lockley immediately stepped forward, running her hand over Bobby's longish hair as she passed and he let her, but kept his eyes focused strictly upon his father. Fitch turned and spoke quickly to her, a Boston Irish accent thick on his tongue now as he reiterated, "Costello's dead, yeah, ike Stram? Maddie's...well, here..."...What about the baby?
Fitch handed Lockley his phone and, immediately, she paled at what Damon could clearly hear were a stream of expletives pouring out of it at Lockley who, to her immense credit, took it in stride.
When 'Maddie' finished cussing Lockley out, Lockley took a deep breath and nodded, "Yer right, Maddie - I-I did all those things, I did them to Louie and...and to you an' everybody. I'm sorry."
Tears were coming to her eyes, but she merely swiped at them and nodded again, even though 'Maddie' couldn't see them.
"I'm sorry, Maddie, I'm sorry. Thank you. No, I'm not. I swear on our parents' graves."
Lockley paused, breathed a sigh of relief, and then resumed the conversation, "Lou says ya told him Frank Costello's dead, I know, like - like Al Stram's dead, now, too. May they rot in pieces, the sick bastards. Costi-what, ya got involved with a Costigan, Maddie - they - " Lockley blinked even as Fitch started and turned back to stare at her in shock....I'm really sorry... I swear to God I am. I'll get you out of this. It won't be immediately but I will get you out. Two weeks at most...
"Officer William Costigan, Jr.
was deep with Costello's crew, in contact with the also dearly departed Captain Queenan and with Sean Dignam? Yeah, I remember him, he lived on Auntie Comnya's block - used to call me Baibin
- which thanks...little mealy-mouthed faccia di merda
- anyway, his little cousin, Faith's over in England with the ICW! The guy...he breathes a blue streak and yer in sessions with him 'cause of poor Queenan? Maddie, ya need to take a leave of absence if - if yer grievin' about Costigan...yer pregnant an' gotta save up maternity leave time."
"What?" Fitch asked, awe coming to his face and Washington was struggling to follow the conversation and glanced over to see Sanchez was, as well. Well, there was at least that. Neither of them had ever been to Boston in their lives....Families are always rising or falling in America, am I right?
Who said that?
What's the matter, smartass, you don't know any fuckin' Shakespeare?
"Maddie...okay, Maddie, Louie was right, we're on cell phones here, we can't understand ye if ye start cryin' again..." Lockley flinched slightly and stared at Fitch's phone for a second. "She hung up. Lou, Maddie's - "
But Lou shook his head, "I heard ya, did she say Costigan was the father?"
"I think she said she hoped
he was the father, she said she couldn't handle bein' the mother of the baby of a ratfink mole like Colin Sullivan. She's left him already, moved back into her old place - lease hadn't run out yet. She says...well, I couldn't understand much more, but I think she wants to talk to you again later."
"What's a mole?" Bobby asked and Fitch sighed heavily, "Nothin' you need to know unless you become a cop."
"But I'm the son of a detective," Bobby tried to reason, a winning smile coming to his face, but Fitch wasn't having any of it.
"And when the son of a detective
graduates the academy and becomes an officer of the law, he'll know all kinds of things - like what a mole is."
Fitch breathed out heavily through his nose and then sighed when Bobby asked something else, "So does this mean we're going to Southie?"
Fitch sighed, "No, we can't. It's too dangerous - "
"I can fight," Bobby objected and Fitch took him by the shoulders. "If I catch you fightin', your ass is grass, understand? You're not trained and the only things you would ever fight if you were go bump in the night."
Bobby scowled, but then had the foresight to ask, "So how do you take down suspects?"
"Very gently, now no fightin'." Fitch let him go, then.
Washington snorted. "'Very gently', I've seen your very gently
"You damned sure haven't seen my very rough
," but Fitch actually grinned and Washington was almost stunned again.
"Do I even
want to know?" he asked after getting his presence of mind back again.
Fitch sighed, again, himself, "If I promised you I'd take you out patrolling tonight, I'd have to promise Bobby I'd take him sometime soon because neither of you are trained in hand to hand...and I refuse to do that. Katie, you said you knew Faith Lehane personally - as in not the baby we remember?"
Kate nodded, "Arrested her myself back when she was atoning for past sins...never knew she was underage - I'd've - "
"Done the exact same damned thing."
Kate started to tell her brother to fuck off, but stopped because of the children in the room. "Shut up, Lodovico Lockley Fitch," she offered tiredly.
Damon - and Sanchez, for that matter - now stared at Fitch again, "Your name's Lodovico?" he asked his partner.
Fitch rolled his eyes, "Yes, whatever - I am
half-Italian, my mother named me, and if you recall
, Lockley's our father's last name. Lodovico is a form of 'Louis'. Trinchen's biological mother named her
, and it's a German form of 'Katherine'. Can we go to dinner now?"
"Give it a rest, Washington," Sanchez said, speaking for the first time in a very long while. "Fitch is right, we have dinner. We can..." she shrugged in an obviously still unnerved way. "Digest...or something."
Bobby fought the urge to scowl, "And I can have money for pizza since Sean and I can't go, which...interesting...Sean - Irish..."
He adopted a thoughtful pose and Sanchez found herself amused and rather comforted again. Bobby was a good kid.
"You order anything on Pay-Per-View..."
"You're the lawnmower, I know
Bobby took offense to that, "What did you do when you were thirteen?"
"He called me a - " Kate started, but Fitch dashed over with inhuman speed and clapped his hand over her mouth, even though it was only a couple of feet. The Washingtons and Sanchez could only stare.
"Now it's really
not fair that I'm not going to dinner," Bobby snapped, but only threw his hands up and asked again, "Money for a pizza, Superman?"
"Only because if I don't, you'll burn down the apartment," Fitch sniped back and Bobby visibly restrained himself from overreacting.
"Burn one lousy quiche
Louis stopped himself from reiterating what Bobby had told him about setting fires, remembering that that likely wouldn't have happened if Fitch, himself, had had his absentee ass around to stop him in the first place and simply removed his hand from his sister's mouth, glaring at her all the while, before also removing his wallet and giving Bobby a sum of bills.
"You know not to keep all that on you at once," he warned yet again, but differently - almost as an afterthought.
Bobby only gave him a side-along glance, "This...isn't pizza money."
"It's for-while-you're-here money. You'll be here three weeks, including Christmas, you've gotta do something with your time and can't spend all of it with me. I'll show you around the city again - if you come back during Hockeytown, we'll go see the Red Wings play, like you wanted and I'll try to get you a Steve Yzerman jersey in the meantime - long story - and some of that's cab fare because the buses are crap. Call ahead and they'll come pick you up. I'll give you a list that services my neighborhood. They don't just drive around like back in the city. I'll give you more later on if you run out."
"Hockeytown?" Bobby asked, glancing around but all the Washingtons and Sanchez did was grin and chuckle. Uncle Damon mimed hitting a puck.
"Yzerman's been retired for years, Fitch," he said, but Bobby's father ignored his partner's logic. "How many Stanley Cups did he win us?"
Washington rolled his eyes while taking note of the 'us' comment, and Fitch smirked slightly, "I thought so."
Kate was still concentrating on the money in Bobby's hands, "You know, big brother, this might be why Mahajan there, thinks you've been on the take..."
"He better not or I'll kill him. You didn't get the same letter I did, after Dad died? Or - "
Kate nodded and was going to reply, but was interrupted by a yelp, which gathered everyone's attention.
"This is an inheritance! From your dad!" Bobby asked, appalled, and tried to shove the money back at his father, who gently slapped his hands away.
"And your grandfather, who loved you very much, also set some aside for you. You'll get it when you're eighteen."
Bobby blinked and looked at both his father and aunt, then, "He knew about me?"
Fitch shrugged slightly, "I had your mother send him pictures of you when you were first born and everything up until you were a year old. He died when you were one. If you wanna read the letters and see the stuff he sent me when I was younger up until then...I guess you can, but I want them all back."
Bobby brightened curiously, "Do you have any pictures of him? Of my grandpa?"
Kate stepped in again, "I have more recent ones, but your dad's got ones from when we were kids. We'll pool 'em for you. That way, you can have pictures of all of us."
"Is any of Southie in it?"
Fitch and Kate both nodded.
"Yep, all the way up and down South Boston, even the North Shore," Kate added.
"Who's Sean Dignam?"
Both Fitch and Lockley paused before Fitch winced and Kate sighed heavily, "He's with the Massachusetts State Police. Staff Sergeant."
But Bobby wouldn't accept that, "He's not just a Statie, he lived by your aunt's and has a younger cousin who's that Slayer, Faith, who's in England now, who you arrested once - you said he used to call you 'strange' in Irish, I guess 'cause you're half-German. And he worked with Officer Costigan, who's dead and not a...whatever...I'm guessing not crooked or something - and maybe the father of Cousin Maddie's new baby."
Kate narrowed her eyes at Fitch, who stared right back with a pointedly blank face, and then said through gritted teeth, "If your son doesn't become a cop with his papa's mouth and ears and all his questions, I will hunt your narrow ass down
and kill you, myself."
But Fitch objected over Washington's muted yet animated snickering, "I am hardly narrow. Not wide, but not narrow, definitely."
With that, Kate shoved out a breath, punched Fitch in the shoulder, ignored his subsequent laugh, and said, "We've gotta do something about Maddie. Now
, Lou, before dinner. Get Dignam on it if you have to...the giant turd..." she finished with a whisper, but Bobby snickered anyway.
That shut Fitch up.
"What's wrong with Cousin Maddie?" Bobby asked, now concerned. "A baby's a good thing..." Then Bobby paused, "Well, I mean, a rat's a bad thing, and Costigan being dead if she liked him so much, but a baby cancels some of that out. At least, I think."
Against their wills, both Fitch and Kate smiled.
"Alright, you lovesick puppy, we'll have her talk to you, too," Fitch suggested before sighing and rubbing his hands over his face again. "First."
"You still don't do that thing where you don't wash your hands for hours, do you?" Kate asked suddenly, and Fitch glared at her through his fingers.
"Ew!" Bobby flinched and tried to jerk away from Fitch, but his father grabbed and held him fast. "Ha ha ha ha ha
. Yes, I wash my damned hands and need I remind you, I was eight? Didn't really get the concept of germs yet. How do you even remember that, you were two!"
"You didn't wash your hands that time in the bathroom," Washington pointed out and Bobby renewed his struggles as Kate pretended to start retching. Sanchez merely backed away, covering her mouth so her snickers would be muffled, but she knew Fitch heard them anyway.
She didn't join in ribbing him, he had enough problems as it was. Surreptitiously, however, Sanchez used some of the lieutenant's Purell before they finally left her office and Lauren resolved not to let Louis hold Sean for a while.
Oh, God, she hoped Lou didn't start calling him 'Dignam' in revenge for that joke they pulled when Sean was born...ENDTranslations:María, Madre de Dios
- Mary, Mother of Godfaccia di merda
- Out of many translations - son of a bitch, for my purposes, but lit. a face full of [feces]