Original fic: SCU: Boston

[bedlamsbard]

See, at this point in time, I was planning on posting the next chapter of Omerta, but it isn't exactly finished yet, so...either later today or tomorrow, depending on how long I'm working in the barn (yard sale, yay). So instead, we get another look at those fantastic Boston detectives with the Issues. Like Chris, with the hearing/seeing voices thing, and Jimmy, of the dead partner.



"Jimmy," Chris says suddenly, and his partner looks up from the beer he's been nursing for the better part of the past hour.

"Yeah?"

Chris wants, desperately, to stop the words, but they spill out of his mouth like water from a roof. "D'you know an officer named Donald Mackay?"

It's the wrong thing to say because Jimmy's face goes dead white like he's never seen it before and his fist clenches so hard around his mug Chris swears he hears glass crack. "Jimmy?" he says. "Are you -" He can't say okay. Okay is for civilians, and Jimmy isn't okay.

"Yeah," Jimmy says, the nasal inflection of Charlestown brushed all over the words. "Yeah, I know - knew - Mac." It seems to take all his energy to say the words and his head drops back down, the lights driving blue glints out of his black hair.

Chris doesn't want to go on but he has to, because the wild thing's got him in its grip and it won't let go. "I saw him," he says, and Jimmy's head jerks up.

"No -"

"I saw him. He asked about you."

He sees, strangely calm, that Jimmy's blue eyes are wide and horrified. There are things he won't say: that Mackay's blues were bloodstained, that thee was a faint purple hickey on the lower left side of his jaw, that blood spatter patterned his badge crimson and silver. Mackay died by violence; Chris knows this. Jimmy needs to go on, the ghost had said. He needs - to get over me. I'm dead - he's alive. He needs to live. He's a cop; he doesn't have just himself to look after. He's got Boston too.

Chris turns his head away at a flash of something out of the corner of his eye. Sergeant Donald Mackay is materializing out of the smoke surrounding the bar, his patrolman's blues crisp except where bullet holes rip through his chest. There's a trickle of blood coming out the corner of his mouth. Chris wonders if he can feel it, if the dead can feel anything but the chill of the grave. Mackay slids into the booth next to him. His voice is soft a whisper at the corner of Chris's mind - let me.

Mackay scoots over another foot or so, into Chris, and it's cool but not as ice cold as he'd thought it might have been. When he speaks, his voice is deeper, broader, the accent less pronounced. "Jimmy."

Jimmy looks up and his eyes are very wide and very pale, strange and almost colorless, the iris swallowed up by the whites. "Mac?" he croaks.

"Are you okay?" Chris says in Mackay's voice, and the ghost shepherds him gently aside. "Are you happy, Jimmy?" he asks.

"I -" Jimmy says, then stops and swallows.

"It's okay to say yes, Jimmy," Mac says and a laugh rumbls its way out of Chris's throat.

"Yeah," Jimmy manages in a shaky whisper. "Yeah, I think I am. Gotta gold badge and a good team and a great partner - I - I think I am."

"That's good," Mac says, a grin stretching Chris's face. "That's good, Jimmy."

Jimmy reaches uncertainly for him. "Are you -"

"I'm good." Something like heat brushes at the corners of Chris's mind, heat and what's not so much a scent but an essence of cinnamon and myrrh. He touches Jimmy's wrist. "Tell Callahan - tell him -"

"He's got a beat in Dorchester," Jimmy says. He doesn't take his eyes off Mac. "And a rookie. Met his match, I think. Mac, I - I got -" He makes a furious gesture. "I got the guy. I had him on the ground and I = I coulda - it woulda been so easy and I had him, I was lookin' into his eyes with a gun at his head and Callahan wasn't gonna - he said it'd be self defense, he'd swear to in front of a jury if he had to but I didn't -" He's crying, tears streaking down his broad handsome face. "I had the guy, Mac."

"Jimmy," Mac says. "It's okay." He reaches across the table and cups Jimmy's face, runs his thumb across the broad cheekbone. Jimmy arches into the touch, eyes half-closed. "Boston's your beat."

Jimmy turns uncertain eyes on him. "I dont' walk a beat anymore, Mac."

Mac smiles. "Yeah you do. Take care of your people, partner."

"Mac, no, wait -"

Thanks brushes ever so lightly at Chris's mind and Mac is gone. Jimmy sees it on Chris's face and drops his head down to the table, sobbing unashamedly.

"I'm sorry," Chris says, but the words are hollow as ashes.

Comments

[mentalhygiene.livejournal.com]

Er. I had best get cracking, then.
...well, that and the slash is kinda already canon. Um. At least, when you write it, it will be. subtlety isn't my strong suit, is it.

Your cops are lucky. Mine don't tend to associate magic with them. Magic is for civilians and perps, not for cops.
They are lucky. They have each other. On the other hand, this does tend to drive a big wedge between them and the civilians sometimes.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

subtlety isn't my strong suit, is it.

*projects Flack*

They are lucky. They have each other. On the other hand, this does tend to drive a big wedge between them and the civilians sometimes.

Bah, civilians. *waves hand* Try taking what CSU gets, and then multiply it by like forty to get how the other cops feel about SCU. They like to pretend the "s" stands for "spooky."

[mentalhygiene.livejournal.com]

Bah, civilians. *waves hand*
*snicker* Picture: Cooper has injured himself. He is tied hand, foot, and elbows to the bed. He bites the doctor.

Try taking what CSU gets, and then multiply it by like forty to get how the other cops feel about SCU. They like to pretend the "s" stands for "spooky."
You know... these guys, they're just Boston-city, right? 'Cause man, if Cambridge has one, do I *ever* feel sorry for the kinda crazy they must put up with.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Picture: Cooper has injured himself. He is tied hand, foot, and elbows to the bed. He bites the doctor.

*facepalm* He would, wouldn't he.

You know... these guys, they're just Boston-city, right? 'Cause man, if Cambridge has one, do I *ever* feel sorry for the kinda crazy they must put up with.

*raises eyebrows* Well, they're technically just Boston, but they tend to deal with everything in the surrounding area too, since the State Police doesn't have a special crimes unit and most police departments don't, either.

This reminds me of something I've been meaning to ask...what exactly is considered "Boston"? I mean, the neighborhoods and such. Large cities confuse me.

[mentalhygiene.livejournal.com]

*facepalm* He would, wouldn't he.
*straightfaced* Of course. They took his gun and tied him to the bed. He didn't want to bite them. If they'd left one arm untied, he could've just hit them instead.

;-)

*raises eyebrows* Well, they're technically just Boston, but they tend to deal with everything in the surrounding area too, since the State Police doesn't have a special crimes unit and most police departments don't, either.
Poor stateys. Cambridge is... well, it's referred to as "The People's Republic of Cambridge" and tends to be known as liberal, eccentric, urban, and a colorful mix of cultures. It, and Somerville, are kind of artsy as far as I know, though Somerville's a little more of the blue-collar.

This reminds me of something I've been meaning to ask...what exactly is considered "Boston"? I mean, the neighborhoods and such. Large cities confuse me.
Boston is a city of... crud, I can't remember, but a lot. Lots of people. And a number of neighborhoods all stuck together, sort of the equivalent of Harlem, Upper East Side, Upper West Side (etc.) in NY. Depending on context, "Boston" can refer to Boston as well as urban surrounding areas (parts of Brookline, Cambridge, etc). Then some of the neighborhoods are almost like seperate towns themselves (and can be addressed on letters as such), like Allston-Brighton or Charlestown or Roxbury/West Roxbury. This (https://ssl.opendoor.com/RoommateCo/newforms/bostonhoods.gif) is a good map. The smaller parts-- Chinatown, Downtown, etc.-- are hiding in the larger chunks. This (http://www.ci.boston.ma.us/police/district.asp) is a map of police districts, something like precincts.

It's all a pile o'crazy. Oh, and the MBTA? Buses, trolleys, trains, and commuter rail, it covers over seventy towns and extends into more than 3 counties.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

*straightfaced* Of course. They took his gun and tied him to the bed. He didn't want to bite them. If they'd left one arm untied, he could've just hit them instead.

How absolutely horrible of the doctors. I mean, unthinkably horrible. How could they be stupid enough to get within reach of his mouth?

Poor stateys.

Well, you can't really blame them, although SCU is a nice way to get rid of all the batshit crazy detectives you can't fire. It costs money (because they need their own lab and morgue and medical examiner) and it's hard to explain to the huddled masses.

Boston is a city of... crud, I can't remember, but a lot. Lots of people.

Uh, yeah. Thanks. Why can't I write what I know like normal people?

[mentalhygiene.livejournal.com]

How could they be stupid enough to get within reach of his mouth?
*snicker* Cooper's a wily bastard. Everyone prefers he not be injured.

Well, you can't really blame them, although SCU is a nice way to get rid of all the batshit crazy detectives you can't fire.
The state police-- when explaining incidents, usually traffic since they patrol the major highways among other things-- always strike me as kind of an *entity*, in a moreso way than any other police department. Like, Boston Police being a brotherhood, versus the stateys being an amorphous, flesh-eating amoeba.

It costs money (because they need their own lab and morgue and medical examiner) and it's hard to explain to the huddled masses.
Governor: *shoves pile of funding* "Here. Now make the boogeymen go away, okay?"

Uh, yeah. Thanks. Why can't I write what I know like normal people?
I can't say as I know Boston, at least as much as other people, either, because I don't *live* there. My internal map of Boston is usually gauged through transit and landmark instead of neighborhood.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Cooper's a wily bastard. Everyone prefers he not be injured.

Uh, yeah. I can see why.

Governor: *shoves pile of funding* "Here. Now make the boogeymen go away, okay?"

More or less, yeah. Those vampires, ya' know - they can really do a number on the tourists.