Maggie Little (charredfeathers) wrote in bumpinthenigt, @ 2012-09-24 23:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | #group scene, 08.21.12, finn, jimmy, kinkade, maggie |
I'm telling you as a friend.
Who: Finn, Maggie, Jimmy, Kinkade
What: Making a statement
When: Tuesday lunchtime
Where: Precinct
Warnings: triggers up the wazoo for domestic and sexual abuse.
Tuesday morning, Maggie had felt brave enough to call Jimmy, to say that she wanted to press charges, make a statement. Jimmy had sounded overjoyed, and had told her to come in whenever she felt ready. Deciding there was no time like the present - and knowing that Finn was free all day - she’d arranged to come in after lunch. So, one o’clock found her being led through the station by Jimmy, taken to an empty office and sat down.
Jimmy smiled, setting a dictaphone on the table between them, a small notepad in front of him. He’d gotten her a coffee, offered her food, cigarettes, anything she wanted to feel more comfortable. He was building a solid case so far, and even without Maggie’s testimony he was pretty sure he could get the parents for something, but she’d help, a lot. So yeah, he was willing to do anything to get her to go on file about what they’d done. “You all set?” He asked her, eyebrow arched. “You wanna stop at any time, you need a break, just lemme know.” Pressing record, he picked up his pen, noting his name, Maggie’s, and Finn’s, for his own notes more than for anything else.
Maggie folded her hands in her lap, the coffee sitting untouched on the table in front of her. When he’d offered her a cigarette she’d said no, but then had pushed the ashtray towards Finn. Just in case. She took a deep breath, nodding when Jimmy asked if she was ready. She was. She felt brave enough to talk about it, for the first time in a very long time. A lot of that was thanks to Finn. “Where would you like me to start?” She asked softly.
“Start wherever you want to, Maggie,” Jimmy answered, just as softly. “We can talk about the fire, just now. Or further back than that. If you want, start from the beginning.” God, he hoped it wasn’t too far back. The girl was twenty five now, but from the files he’d pulled on her brother and father, there had been reports of disturbances from the neighbours going back over ten years. He didn’t think either he or Finn could keep calm if it was much further back than that.
Maggie nodded, taking a deep breath. “We used to live on a farm,” she began softly. “Miles from anywhere. It was my granddaddy’s. He left it to my dad, and that’s where we were all born.” Twisting her fingers together, she looked down at the table, finding it easier to do that than look at either Jimmy or Finn. “We didn’t go to school. Mom taught us our letters, history, and Daddy taught us how to work the land. Just John first, then me, then Lou as well.” She took a shaky breath, chin wobbling a little before she continued. “I was twelve the first time John came into my bed. Daddy moved us around after Granddaddy passed away. Put me and Lou in different rooms, John in the room between us. He said...he said it was our secret. Th-that I had to be a good sister, and look after him. Just like he looked after me and Lou.”
Finn really was glad that Maggie had decided to take this step, to come forward and tell Jimmy, help him build a tighter case to make sure that her goddamn parents got a little payback for all the fucking shit they'd done. He was also really glad that it was Jimmy on the fucking case. It wasn't that he had an issue with any of the other detectives, but he knew Jimmy on a completely different level than the rest of them.
The one thing he wasn't sure about was how he would be able to keep his shit during the interview. This was probably gonna push him to his very last nerve. Of course no matter how hard it was on him, he knew that it would be infinitely harder on Maggie who had lived through all the shit only to now recount it and probably sorta relive parts of it that she would have preferred to just forget. At least that was the way he would have felt.
And, yeah, once she started talking his jaw started clenching, but he kept his eyes on his hands, listening and trying not to react because god fucking damn it. Some people didn't deserve to have ever gotten the chance to walk the earth, which included Maggie's brother. He would have pointed to the fire as proof of karma, but if that was the case, it wouldn't have taken her sister as well. Fucking heartless world.
"Christ," he muttered under his breath, scrubbing his hand over his face and going for one of his cigarettes, making sure to blow the smoke in the opposite direction of where Maggie was sitting. If he was going to get through this without setting the table on fire, he needed nicotine. Lots of it. Especially since he couldn't really knock back anything alcoholic in here.
Jimmy was just as shaken. And just as tempted to reach for a cigarette. He’d known it was bad. He had. But hearing her say it was something else. Pressing his pen against the page, he looked at her. “And when you say he came into your bed....?” He hated that he had to ask. He really did. “Did he rape you?”
Maggie shook her head. “Not at first,” she said. “It...it was just touching. Hugging. Letting him touch me.” She blushed, looking down at her hands. “He told me that if I didn’t let him, he’d go to Louise’s room instead,” she whispered. “I couldn’t let him do that.” She looked up at Jimmy, tears welling up. “I had to protect her. So I let him. He...” she took a deep, shuddery breath, reaching out to grab a tissue from the box on the table, dabbing at her eyes. “He raped me on my thirteenth birthday,” she whispered at last. “That was the first time. I...I tried to tell my mom. She was talking about how I had to save myself for marriage, how it was a sin to-to have sex before marriage.” Maggie started crying then, worrying the tissue between her fingers, shredding it slowly. “I tried to ask, to tell her about John, and she told me to shut up. Told me lying was a sin, a-and that John was a good boy.”
He'd come along to support her, but Finn was quickly realizing that he had no idea what the fuck he was supposed to do in order to provide support for this sort of thing. Especially considering that his gut reaction was to tear the shit out of people. Set them on fire, melt the flesh and fat and sinew off their bones and then make it hotter, hot enough to reduce bone to ash. Just lose himself in punishing someone. Must be what god fucking felt like. Well. Fuck god. That bastard was taking entirely too long to smite some bitches.
He wasn't gonna do that, though. Nope. He was just going fucking sit there and grind his teeth and smoke his cigarettes and try not to go completely insane. When she started crying, he looked at her, sorrow and outright anger flashing over his features. There was a lot of heat in his hands, though, almost too much so his hand simply hovered over her shoulder for a few moments before he put it back on the table, balled up. And bit his lip to keep his mouth shut because otherwise he was just gonna spew profanities for the next three hours. Goddamn, fucking rapist piece of shit. Goddamn, fucking worthless wastes of space that called themselves parents.
"They're all going to burn in hell," he muttered out, unable to stop himself.
Jimmy’s knuckles were white around his pen, leaning hard enough that he nearly tore holes in the page. Fuck. This was why he didn’t - couldn’t - work SVU. Because it made him so goddamn angry that he wanted to kill things. Starting with her piece of shit parents. Yeah, they’d be top of the list. And so would ever other person that ever raised a hand to their kids, ever made them think they were worthless.
Maggie’s gaze flicked over to Finn when he spoke, startled. She’d forgotten he was there, for a moment. Wiping her eyes, she looked back at the table, bolstered by Finn’s words, by the anger on his face. Anger was easier to deal with. She was spending more time angry, and less time scared - whether it was healthy or not, it helped her cope. “First time I ran away, I was twelve,” she murmured quietly, gaze flicking between Jimmy’s face and the dictaphone, finding it far easier to stare at the piece of plastic and metal on the table. “Daddy caught me, dragged me back home. He hit me.” Her words were less faltering now, given confidence by Jimmy’s silent sympathy, by the warmth of Finn sitting beside her. “I think he broke my arm. My fingers, too.” She lifted her left hand, curling her ring finger slightly. “I can’t bend my finger more that unless I press it down,” she said, demonstrating. “Doctor said there was a severed nerve, or a tendon...I can’t remember.”
“I ran away six times,” she continued. “About once a year, I’d get up the courage. Try and get away. But they found me every time. Daddy...he found the cage when I was seventeen.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at Finn for reassurance, for support. “He put me in there for four years,” she admitted quietly. “Would’ve left me in longer, only by then the farm was struggling so bad he had to sell up. Had to move into the city, make us all get jobs.”
Finn had pushed away from the table a few minutes ago, hands in tight fists on his knees. He wasn't even smoking, couldn't trust himself with even that tiny bit of a spark. Not that he would have done anything on purpose, but he just. Fuck. It was all so goddamn infuriating that people could be such assholes, especially to their own family members. He ran a hand through his hair before returning it to tap restlessly against his leg.
The suspected rape had been confirmed. Now Maggie had just confirmed the beatings as well. Finn didn't know what all charges could be leveled against her parents now, after so many years, for all the goddamn shit they had put Maggie through, but he trusted that Jimmy would figure it out and take it as fucking far as he could.
He didn't like the way she curled into herself again, knew she was looking to him for support and comfort, but he couldn't manage much more than a smile that was probably more of a barely controlled snarl than anything else, especially when she told him that her father had put her in the fucking cage for four years. Four years stuck as a bird, trapped inside that goddamn cage that would have been the death of her if he hadn't found her. Shit.
"You did what you could, Maggie May. Now you're doing the rest," he managed to say, unsure whether the words would be enough to help bolster her confidence. He really was proud of her, but he was seeing so much goddamn red, feeling so much goddamn fire, at the moment that it was difficult to be reassuring.
Jimmy glared at Finn. Yeah, he wasn’t helping right now. Even he could tell that. “You need a break?” He asked Maggie, pushing the cup of coffee closer to her. “Take all the time you need, Maggie. No rush.” He was amazed she’d even come forward - even moreso now he was getting an idea of just how bad it had been for the girl. It just made him more determined to get her asshole parents. More determined to make sure they couldn’t hurt anyone else, ever again.
Maggie drew her feet up, battered trainers that she’d been given by Finn’s mom hanging off the edge of her seat. Her gaze flicked around the room, trying to find somewhere higher to sit, trying to find an escape route. Finn’s words helped a little, but the expression on his face scared her. Looking away, she let her hair fall across her face, hiding behind her bangs as she wiped her eyes, tried to calm down a little. She shook her head as Jimmy suggested a break. “No,” she whispered. “No I need to keep going.” If she stopped, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to continue.
“I got a job working night shifts in a diner. Lou worked in a grocery store, and John got a job at a meat-packing plant. Only...only he got laid off.” She wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest, staring at the table rather than meet Finn or Jimmy’s eyes. “John didn’t touch me, while he was working,” she whispered. “I slept while he was out, and then when he came home, I was getting ready for work. It was Lou that he-” she stifled a sob, pressing her knuckles against her mouth for a long moment before she could continue. “My nights off, Daddy put me in the cage,” she whispered. “He put silver foil over it, to stop me from getting out. Said that he couldn’t trust me not to run away again. Not to desert my family.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t ever leave. Not without Lou. She didn’t deserve...” her words trailed off again, and she mumbled an apology, covering her face with her hands.
No, he probably wasn't helping, but he didn't have any idea what he could goddamn well do about it now. While he could certainly go find her parents and burn the shit out of them, none of that would erase what had happened. It wasn't like he had a fucking time machine waiting around the corner that would allow him to go back and make everything better, fix it before it got so shitty and broken. Those things just didn't exist. Besides he'd watched enough terrible science fiction movies to know that the paradoxes could make things worse. Although in Maggie's case, he didn't know how anything could have gotten any fucking worse.
He avoided looking at Jimmy because the slightest little thing could set him off right now, and the last fucking thing that needed to happen was him yelling at and potentially punching the shit out of his friend because the man was just doing his job. Lighting another cigarette, he stood up to pace a bit around the room. Oh, he was still listening and cataloging all the ways he'd like to make the sons of bitches pay, but it helped to be moving, to be smoking. He could focus on other things like the pattern on the floor or the cracks in the walls or making the circuit around the room while staying as quiet as fucking possible. Of course the heat had still welled up too much in his hands to really touch anything, and he certainly didn't want to run the risk of hurting Maggie, especially now, so he just paced and listened.
There was the detail about the cage that he had seen. "The foil was on the cage the night of the fire," he added, voice strained, not really giving a good goddamn whether Jimmy wanted him to talk at the moment or not. The other man should know that he was doing pretty well to have kept this quiet for this fucking long.
He rubbed at his eyes as she talked about her brother's interests in her sister. Goddamn sick fuck. And there were the tears. Or the almost tears because it was difficult for him to tell. If they weren’t flowing yet, they would be. He could sense that. It was an effort to drag the excess fire out of his hands. They were still extraordinarily warm but nowhere near closer to dangerous. Stopping behind her chair, he laid an awkward hand on her shoulder, hoping that it might be enough to bolster her and also hoping that this would be done soon before they'd all had more than they could fucking bear.
Jimmy rubbed his face roughly with his hand, more as a distraction than anything else. To stop him from saying something he shouldn’t. He had a newfound respect for the detectives in SVU, for being able to listen to shit like this day after day and not go postal. Jesus. He nodded when she described the cage, when Finn added in that detail. “Yeah,” he murmured thickly. “We’ve got it downstairs in Evidence.” He looked at Maggie, tried to smile. “Might need a sample of your DNA, hon, just to confirm that you were inside it. There’s feathers on the cage, enough trace DNA that we should be able to match it easily.” Just in case her parents tried to weasel out of it, tried to suggest that of course they hadn’t put their own daughter in a cage.
Maggie jumped a little when Finn placed his hand on her shoulder, reaching up to hold it in place, her slender fingers wrapping tightly around his, stopping him from moving away. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she nodded at Jimmy’s request, taking a deep, shuddery breath. “I know what caused the fire,” she said softly. “John left the fan on.” Wiping her cheeks, she tried to stop crying, still holding on tightly to Finn’s hand, pressed against her shoulder.
“The wire was frayed, it kept shorting out. But Daddy said he didn’t have time to fix it, and as long as we switched it off before bed...” her chin wobbled, and she paused for a moment, but forced herself to continue. “How could we switch it off, when I’m in a cage and Lou...” She covered her eyes, taking a few shuddering breaths. “Lou was stuck underneath him, like always. He’d-he’d drink, and then come into our bed, a-and then pass out when he was done, on top of me, or Lou.” Whichever one of them was sleeping there, whichever one of them was unlucky enough.
Finn was tempted to snap at Jimmy, tell him that of course she had been in the goddamn cage because he had let her out and then watched her turn from that soot covered bird into a small and still soot covered girl, but he managed to hold his fucking tongue. Through the anger, he knew that it was all protocol, had to be done. Especially these days when people wanted DNA evidence for everything. You couldn't keep a goddamn case afloat it seemed without DNA evidence up the ass for any little thing.
Did the accused eat at Burger King once a week for his entire shitty life? Yes, here's a witness and a video tape. Is there DNA evidence to support this? No. Then we have to throw this supposition out because the witness could be compromised, and the tape might have been doctored.
It pissed Finn off to no fucking end. Of course everything was managing to push his last goddamn button at the moment.
When Maggie jumped, he wanted to kick himself for startlingly her, but then she wrapped her own fingers around his, preventing him from going anywhere, from moving. He squeezed back a little bit, especially when she cried. It was the only thing he could do, stand there and sort of hold her hand and feel like he was going to scream and set someone on fire at any minute. Of course focusing on Maggie was helping, focusing on holding her hand and making sure he didn't let himself get too warm, didn't grip too hard. She was fragile, and he would treat her that way even if her family hadn't. The fuckers.
His fingers tightened slightly in a small attempt of comfort. He had never gotten into that fucking room. The one with the bodies, the one with the fan. Sully had been in there, though. He'd need to talk to him about how much he'd been able to see. "You're okay." he said, though the words felt shitty and weak to him. He really didn't know what the fuck else there was for him to say at the moment. This sorta thing had never been easy on him.
Jimmy managed a tight grin at that. “Your dad knew the wire was faulty?” He asked her again, looking up from his notepad. If he knew, if they had proof, then he fucking had the guy. For manslaughter, at least. Two of his kids were dead because he was too goddamn lazy to fix a faulty cable. The bastard deserved everything he fucking got. Between that, and the cage, and what Maggie was saying...hell, even if he could only prove half of it, the bastard was going down. His wife, too.
Maggie nodded, glancing up at Finn, managing a shaky smile. “Thanks to you,” she murmured softly. She wiped her face with the tissue, looking back at Jimmy. “Yes,” she answered firmly. “He knew. I told the chef at work, he offered to take a look at it if my dad brought it in, but my dad said no. He told him he’d take care of it.” She took the notepad that Jimmy slid across the table to her, writing down the night chef’s name and the phone number of the diner. She looked at him hopefully. “Does that mean that you can put them away?” She murmured softly. “That they’re going to pay for my sister’s death?”
Lazy fucking bastard. That was the most current charge in Finn's long list of crimes that Maggie's parents had committed. Whether any of those charges would have been real to anyone other than him didn't fucking matter. Lazy fucking bastard. Considering all the other things in the list that really wasn't so bad. Except for the fact that being a lazy fucking bastard had resulted in two deaths, one of which hadn't been deserved in the least. The other. Well. Finn didn't think he could be at all sorry that the boy had died. Sounded like he had been even more fucked up than his father from everything that Maggie had said. The worst of the lot. Oh, he hoped he was in hell, hoped the boy believed in hell and that Lucifer was feeling like the right tricky bastard he was supposed to be.
He didn't know any way to respond to her comment so he just shrugged one shoulder vaguely, staying goddamn well put and just watching, listening, trying to process everything without flying off the goddamn handle. And wondering how it was that Maggie, tiny, beautiful, wounded little Maggie, had managed to take all of that shit for so long without completely breaking down into a shell of a person. She might be skittish and fearful, but she was still a whole hell of a lot better than he would have thought someone could be after enduring all of that.
Finn arched his eyebrows at Jimmy when Maggie asked whether they had enough to put her parents away, to make them fucking pay. Jesus, he hoped so. He wanted to hear the other man say yes as much as he thought Maggie probably needed to hear it. And if the answer was no, there might be another, more cathartic and way less legal way to handle things, but he really didn't want to go there, couldn't fucking afford to go there now.
Jimmy nodded, grimly. “I’m gonna try my very best, honey,” he assured her. “Between this, getting Sully in as an expert witness, and the ME report...” He nodded. “Yeah. I think we’ve got enough to get them put away for a while.” God, he hoped so. He didn’t want to say yes unequivica- unequivvoc- for sure, but if everything went the way it should then they definitely had a case. They’d better have a goddamn case. “Okay,” he sighed, switching off the recorder. “I’m gonna get this typed up. If you’re doing okay, you can wait here until I’m done and sign ‘em now, or I can bring them over to Finn’s tonight and you can read over them and sign them then. It’s up to you.” He wasn’t going to make her sit here any longer than she needed to, not if she wasn’t comfortable.
“I’ll wait,” Maggie said softly. She wanted time to calm down before she walked through the halls, anyway. Her face was red and puffy, eyes watery with unshed tears. Not exactly something she wanted drawn attention to. Jimmy nodded, gathering up the dictaphone and his notepad, smiling reassuringly at Maggie before standing, nodding to Finn as he left. Realizing she still had hold of his hand, Maggie let go, blushing slightly. “Sorry,” she murmured, glancing up at him quickly, then back down at her hands, the tissue shredded to small white pieces that stuck to her jeans.
Jimmy hadn't said yes, but he also hadn't said no. Of the two, Finn felt that he was way closer to yes, which was precisely what fucking mattered. And Sully could certainly be trusted to tell exactly what he had seen as well as answer any questions about fire hazards or conditions as long as he had seen them. All in all the case couldn't have been in the hands of better people as far as Finn was concerned. It was a lot less hands on than he wanted it to be, but as long as something got fucking done he'd be, well, somewhat happy.
Maggie was safe. That was the thing that definitely needed to stick. Maggie needed to stay safe. Hopefully the bastards would end up in jail for a long time. If not, well, he'd see what else Jimmy could come up with. Maybe a restraining order or something like that. He'd certainly be willing to enforce the fucking thing in his own way.
When Maggie let go of his hand, he left it there for a moment longer before crossing his arms and pacing again, still too fucking hyped up to think about sitting down. "No worries, Maggie May," he said and then rubbed at his eyes. "I'm really fucking proud of you, you know. It takes a lot of courage to tell someone all of that. I know that had to be hard." Harder than he could fucking imagine.
She picked the bits of tissue off her jeans, blushing a little. “I’m not that brave,” she murmured softly. “If I was brave, I would’ve told someone before.” She would’ve protected Lou better, gotten her little sister out of there. But she hadn’t, because she was a coward. She looked down at her toes in the too-big sneakers, a pair of Finn’s thickest socks helping to pad out her feet a little, making the difference less. She hugged her knees, glancing at the desk for a moment before shifting, sitting up on it rather than on the chair. That little bit of extra height made her feel far more comfortable.
No, she was brave. Braver than she fucking knew, and braver than he could probably find a way to put into fucking words. Finn shrugged and pushed a hand through his hair as he watched her climb onto the table, unsure whether to frown or smile at the movement, the instinctual desire for height. "I don't think it's that simple, sweetheart. You had a lot of shit to be worried about. You did what you could, you tried. None of that shit is your fault." And he meant that. He wanted to have the right words, better words, kinder words, but that wasn't who he was. So all he could do was say what he thought. "I think you did fucking incredible considering all the shit that happened."
“I didn’t try hard enough,” Maggie said, shaking her head, tears welling up in her eyes. She brushed her bangs out of her eyes, chin wobbling as she tried not to cry, again. “I should’ve fought more, should’ve got Lou out.” She’d tried to get her sister to run away with her, once. But Louise had been even more skittish than her, had been terrified of what might happen to them if they were caught. Choking back a sob, she looked up at Finn miserably. “I miss her so much,” she managed to say, before dissolving into tears, pressing her hand tightly against her mouth as if she could hold in the emotion, stop herself from crying by sheer force of will. She didn’t make a sound, conditioned by years of living the way she had, not to draw attention to herself.
Oh, fuck. Now she was crying. Finn had been sort of waiting for this because it was inevitable what with all the shit that had happened, especially with everything that she had just told them. Tears couldn't have been far behind after revelations like that. She had every right to cry, of course. All of that shit had been terrible. Even though he knew it was a perfectly normal reaction, he still didn't have a goddamn idea of what he was supposed to do about it.
Taking a breath, he stepped closer so that he was in front of the table, in front of her, close enough that he could bend down and look at her face, which was full of pain. He settled a hand on her shoulder again, hoping that might help. "It's alright. I mean. It's not. Of course it's fucking not. Your parents and your brother fucked up your and your sister's lives. Completely and utterly. It's not your fault, though. And god has her now, you know. Your sister. I know you miss her, but god's got her. All the stupid shit is over for her." He swallowed. "My sister will look out for her. My sister's a full-on bitch so no one will give Lou any trouble. Promise."
Yeah. That was probably a stupid fucking way to put it but maybe it would help. A little.
Maggie closed her eyes, screwing them shut tightly as if that would help. As if she’d stop crying. She leant forward, sliding her arms around his neck, burying her face against his shoulder. Her shoulders shook, tears soaking his shirt as she clung to him. She’d be embarrassed, later. But right now she was clinging to him like she was drowning and he was the only liferaft around. She had a handful of the back of his shirt, trembling as she held onto him, still crying like the world was ending.
When she slide her arms around his neck, he just froze. After a long moment of just trying to process what was going on and what the fuck to do, he slid the hand on her shoulder down her back a bit, patting gently. He left the other hand at his side because, well, where the hell was it supposed to go. "You're alright. You're okay." The crying was a lot like a spear through the chest. Only Finn probably would have known how to handle that better than this. Why wasn't there a goddamn handbook on this somewhere? Seriously.
The hand on her back moved up to cradle her head briefly, just for a moment, before he went back to patting her awkwardly, feeling stupid and conflicted and like an utter failure because he didn't know what to do or say to help her. And, of course, he felt torn for her as well. All of that shit. If only it was something he could fix with a match or a tool or something. But, no, it was so much more complex than that, and he was totally in over his goddamn head. Man, she was small and delicate and shaking like a fucking leaf.
Maggie turned her head, resting her cheek against his shoulder, looking away from him as she tried to breathe, tried to stop the hiccuping sobs that kept her from speaking, from apologising. It was so hard, though - every time she opened her mouth to speak, her breath would catch, fresh tears rolling down her face. “I-I could hear her,” she choked out. “Crying, before,” she took a few shuddery breaths, still clinging tightly to his shirt, her cheek still pressed against his shoulder. “Before I fell asleep, she was...” she couldn’t say anymore, tears overcoming her again.
And now she was just crying harder, which had to be his goddamn fault. Somehow. Okay. Probably not. But he certainly didn't have any clue how to get her to stop. Maybe she didn't need to stop, though. Maybe it would be better for her to get it all out. Like how it was normally better when he got to just fucking yell or thrash something in order to bring his temper down after it had boiled over.
And the things she was saying, the shit that haunted her, was heartbreaking. Finn still didn't see how she had managed for so long with all of that happening around her, happening to her. He continued to pat her back awkwardly with one hand and then stroked her hair with the other one. Just once.
"That wasn't your fault. You were in a goddamn cage. There was nothing you could do. Don't beat yourself up about it. It's not your fault, sweetheart."
The hand on her back was soothing - the soft stroke of his fingers over her hair, even more so. She clung to him still, two handfuls of his shirt clenched tightly in her fists, holding on tightly. Finn was the only constant in her life right now, the only person that made her feel safe. “She w-was my baby sister,” she gasped, her tears slowing a little, breathing no longer quite so panicked, so laboured. “S-she was scared and I couldn’t help her.” She hadn’t heard her sister’s cries for help, if she’d made any. The smoke had awoken her, and by that point...her siblings were likely already dead. “Why did she have to die?” She asked helplessly, turning her head towards his neck, closing her eyes as she pressed her face against his shoulder, finding some comfort in the warmth of his body, the smoky smell that clung to him.
Maybe crying had been better because when she was crying then she couldn't focus on asking him questions that didn't have any answers. At least not any fucking answers that he knew. "I don't know, sweetheart. I really don't even fucking know. Used to be I would have believed in all that shit they tell you about it being god's will but," he shrugged, hands still in their movements for a moment. Her words were hitting a little too goddamn close to home, dragging out pieces of his own past that he didn't want to linger on. Not now and not ever. Been there, done that and locked the fucking door.
"God's got her now, but I can't say that I can even pretend to know what the old fuck is up to. Why he gets us all down here and lets us shit all over each other, kill each other, fuck up each other's hearts and minds. Why he gives some people shitty families and lets others die from diseases. I just don't know, Maggie May. I'm sorry."
She shook her head. “It’s not your fault,” she said softly. She let go of his shirt with one hand, reaching up to wipe her face, tears slowing. She didn’t want to move, not if it meant that he’d let go of her, step away. He was comfort, safety, and she was loathe to give it up. “God has a plan,” she said softly. “He has to. Otherwise what’s the point?” Her faith was the one thing she had to cling to, besides him. The one thing that had kept her going through the darkest times. Her parents might have used faith to control her, but they couldn’t take away the strength it gave her, either.
When she said that, about God, he pulled one of his hands away to rub at the back of his neck. He wasn't agitated at her. Not in the fucking least. But all the talk about god and his plans never ceased to rankle him. Just a little goddamn bit. He didn't begrudge her the faith, though. Shit, he still had shreds of it hanging off him like flayed skin.
"I don't know," he answered, cutting himself off before he came out and said that sometimes he wasn't sure there even was a fucking point. That was entirely too negative for the moment. Reaching behind her, he grabbed the tissue box and offered it to her. It required a little moving but not much, and he was still strangely close to her something that was getting more apparent by the minute. He should really move away before Jimmy or one of the other cops came in, but he didn't want to upset her.
“Thank you,” Maggie murmured softly, taking the tissue and wiping her face, still cuddled close to him, one arm wrapped around his shoulders. She straightened, blushing when she realised how close they were, that Finn’s arm was still around her waist, their noses nearly touching as she looked up at him. “Sorry,” she said, biting her lip as she let her arm slide from around his shoulders, a little reluctantly. And of course, Jimmy took that moment to come in, typed sheets in hand. He looked a little shocked, a little embarrassed, giving Finn a stern Look as he moved out of Maggie’s line of sight.
“That’s your statement all typed up, Maggie,” he murmured, setting the papers on the table in front of her. “If you can read over them, then just sign each sheet, we’re all done here.” He smiled at her, placing a pen down beside the papers, tapping his fingers against the table. “You mind if I borrow Finn for a sec, honey?” He asked her, relieved when she nodded, though her eyes followed them to the door as Jimmy wrapped his hand around Finn’s elbow, practically pulling him out the door and shutting it behind him. “What the fuck was that?” He hissed, frowning at Finn.
Right. Because things weren't already weird enough without Jimmy choosing that moment to come back in. Finn was still terribly close to her, definitely enough to warrant that look even though he had crossed his arms over his chest the moment the door opened and was glaring at the other man, his expression a definite shut the hell up one.
Which meant that Jimmy had to decide to go there and practically frog march him out of the fucking room. Finn managed something that was supposed to be a reassuring smile at Maggie as they left. As soon as they were out and the door had closed, Finn wrenched his arm free of the hold. "Nothing. That was nothing. Seriously. What the fuck sort of bastard do you take me for? She was crying. I didn't know what the hell to do so I was talking to her trying to get her to stop, and the next thing I know she's hugging me so I sort of hugged her back. It was nothing. Now get your mind out of the goddamn gutter. There's nothing going on."
“Yeah that didn’t look like nothing,” Jimmy muttered, eyeing him. “You remember she’s twenty years younger than you right?” Not that he felt it needed saying - Finn wasn’t that much of an asshole - but just talking about this was better than thinking about everything the poor woman had been through. “I mean don’t get me wrong, massive improvement on Sena, but seriously....” And okay, Jimmy was smirking a little now. “Way too good for you, my friend.”
Ugh. Now he really needed a goddamn drink and a cigarette and maybe the opportunity to bitchslap Jimmy to hell and back. "What the hell are you implying? Yes, I know how old she is. Hell, she doesn't even really look that old." Not that she wasn't pretty. Finn had eyes. He wasn't a creepy letch, but there were some things that he couldn't really keep himself from seeing.
"You say that like I'm going after her." Finn poked the other man in the shoulder. "Which I'm fucking not. I saved her life, and I'm gonna make sure that she can get on her feet. And that you take care of those piece of shit parents of hers." He'd have to leave the threat inherent in those words unsaid, especially in the station. "She just needs a friend. That's it. Get your mind out of the damn gutter, Jimmy."
“It’s comfy here, and I got a great view of the street,” Jimmy teased, grinning just a little. Which felt damn good, after the morning he’d had. He sighed, leaning against the wall, glancing around at the busy precinct. “Yeah. I’m doin’ the best I can,” he murmured. “She need anything from the house?” He asked. “I mean, I can’t bring much, but if there’s a couple photos or anything she wants, I can always tell her folks it’s unsalvageable or somethin’.” It was the least that he could do for her.
"That explains why you always smell like puke and piss, I guess," Finn retorted, pushing a hand through his hair. He still wasn't anywhere near calm enough to smile, especially not with Jimmy seemingly purposefully pushing his goddamn buttons like that. Damn that man.
He tapped his fingers against the wall. "I don't see how any jury in the goddamn world wouldn't immediately hand those bastards down a guilty sentence." Then he rubbed his eyes. "Shit." The idea of a trial, of Maggie being cross-examined had just crossed his mind. He didn't know where it had been hiding because he really should have thought of that before. He was slipping in his fucking old age apparently.
Finn hesitated because he actually wasn't sure if it would be better or worse for her to have mementos of home. "Maybe you should ask her that. I don't want to say one way or the fucking other and then get it wrong. Unless you're planning on lecturing me a little more. In which case let's just say you did."
Jimmy nodded, pushing off the wall. “God, I need a fucking cigarette,” he muttered, chewing distractedly on the side of his thumbnail. Soon as Maggie was done, he’d be outside for a smoke break. Not the first of the day, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. By any stretch. “And yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ve got enough,” he sighed. “I’m just hoping they plead guilty. Saves having to drag Maggie in for cross-examination, and just....” he shook his head. “I don’t fuckin’ wanna put her through that.” He looked up sharply as the door opened, Maggie poking her head out, looking around nervously.
“Um,” Maggie held out the sheets of paper, her gaze flicking around the busy room, automatically keeping to the wall, stepping closer to Finn. “I’m done,” she murmured, pulling the sleeves of the borrowed sweater down over her hands.
Finn nodded. Cross-examination would be brutal. A fucking nightmare. For everyone involved. That was the last thing that any of them needed. "Cigarette and a fucking bottle," he added and then tried to smile when the door opened and Maggie stepped out, handing the papers over to Jimmy.
Then he sighed and looked over at her, trying to decide the best way to put the question without sounding like an insensitive asshole. "If there was anything that could be rescued from the house, anything not completely destroyed, would you want something in particular?" That probably wasn't it, but it might be good enough. Maybe. Christ. He wouldn't hold his goddamn breath.
Maggie looked up at him sharply, blinking in surprise. That...wasn’t something she’d thought about. Had tried very carefully not to think, in fact. Just in case there was nothing to be saved. “Um...I don’t know...” she breathed. She looked between Jimmy and Finn, confused. “Can I? I mean, will they let me take things?” If her parents hadn’t cleared the house already, then yes. At Jimmy’s nod, she smiled, uncertainly. “My wool and needles,” she said softly. “They were in boxes underneath my cage, I don’t know...they might have burned.” She bit her lip. “There’s a picture of-of Lou and me,” she faltered, just for a moment. “Dressed up as Dorothy and Red Riding Hood, for Halloween one year.” It was the only picture that didn’t have their brother in, or their parents. She didn’t want to remember the rest of them. She just wanted Lou.
Jimmy nodded. “I’ll see what I can do, honey.” He looked up, spotting Kinkade walking into the bullpen. Perfect. “Maggie, there’s someone else I want you to meet.” Yeah, he wasn’t looking forward to this part. At all. “This is Detective Page. She uh,” He blew out a breath, cheeks puffing up. “She needs to take some pictures of your bruises. Ask you a few more questions, okay?” He’d shown Kinkade Maggie’s statement when he’d typed it up, so she knew what to expect. He just hoped Maggie could cope with it.
Thank fucking god that question hadn't undone her although he sincerely doubted that the wool would be salvageable. It was pretty flammable, and he remembered what that room had looked like when he walked in, the way he'd had to push the fire around in that room. "We can buy you new needles and wool, too. In case," he trailed off and shrugged, pretty sure that she'd be able to fill in the blanks there.
Kinkade was familiar with the Little case. Probably more familiar with it than she wanted to be, but that was just the way these went. They were fascinating in their own twisted, macabre way, and it probably made her strange that she was intrigued by it as much as she wanted to assist. What she really would have liked was the chance to sit the parents done and talk to them, figure out what it was in their own lives and minds that had led them to treat their children in such a way. It was highly doubtful she would ever get the opportunity, though.
When Jimmy introduced her to the girl, who was gorgeous but clearly skittish and fearful of people, she made a big deal of letting Maggie see that her hands were empty and then offered her hand to the other woman slowly. It was probably best to avoid any and all quick movements. "Hello Maggie. You can call me Kinkade if you want. Is it alright if we take a few photos?" It wouldn't be comfortable for either of them, but Kinkade was an expert at locking emotions away.
Maggie stepped closer to Finn, almost hiding behind him as the woman approached. She shook her hand hesitantly, and then nodded. If Jimmy said that they needed photos, then she would help. She didn’t want to, she just wanted to go home. But if she did it now, then it was all over with. She wouldn’t have to think about the fire, her parents, any more. “Um,” she looked around, not sure where Kinkade planned on taking them. She was assuming they weren’t going to ask her to strip off right here.
“This way, Maggie,” Jimmy murmured softly, resting his hand on her back without thinking to guide her along the hall, pulling away as she flinched away from him. “I’m sorry,” he said, just as softly, looking at her sadly. God, the poor little thing. He’d be glad when this was all over with. He led them to a more secluded office, one with blinds on all the windows. Pulling them down, he looked at the two women for a moment, suddenly feeling awkward. “Well, uh, I guess I’ll leave you to it,” he murmured. “Maggie, Finn and I will be right outside the door if you need anything, okay?”
She would have had to be blind not to notice the way that other woman seemed to shrink, pulling back and practically ducking behind the man. Lovely. Unbidden words rose to the forefront of her mind, words that her mother would have used in a situation like these, but she shook them off. She was not her mother, and she would not allow those thoughts to reign. "It's okay. This hopefully won't take too long," she said, trying to keep her voice soft and modulated, comforting, as they made their way to the room.
Kinkade nodded at Jimmy and then made a motion with her hands to shoo him out of the room, walking over brusquely to close the door, which locked automatically. Then she turned back to Maggie, remembering to keep her movements slow and as open as possible. "We'll make this as quick as possible, I promise. Where do you want to start?" Hopefully giving her the power to make the decision would help make this less agonizing.
Finn watched as the door closed, hands clenching and then unclenching because this was all way too much to try and deal with in one day. Even from an outsider's perspective. Not to even fucking mention the fact that he knew Maggie was probably terrified. He swiped a hand through his hair and then smirked at Jimmy. Okay. It was payback time now. "So. Who the hell is that? Other than precisely your type."
“Um...” Maggie held onto the sleeves of her sweater, tugged down over her hands. “I guess the uhm, the photos?” Biting her lip, she tugged the sweater off, blushing as she pulled off the t-shirt she was wearing underneath. There were broad stripes across her ribs and abdomen, from where she’d flung herself against the bars of the cage. Some of them were red, a little raw and angry-looking where she’d burnt herself too. Under those, though, were fading bruises in the shape of fists, hands. Pressure marks on her shoulders. Finger bruises on her hips, her wrists. Curling into herself, Maggie looked down at the floor, scared to look at the woman.
Outside, Jimmy shook his head. “Don’t even,” he muttered. “New transfer. And yes, totally my type. Apparently I remind her of her brother.” He smiled thinly, humorlessly. Yeah, he totally had a crush on Kinkade. It was likely going to go nowhere. At least it gave him something other than Jason and Bill’s ugly mugs to look at while he was at work. “Kind of bitchy and by the book, but not actually psychotic. So I’m still one up on you.” He smacked Finn’s shoulder, mock-chummily. “How is Sena, anyway?”
It was easy for Kinkade to control her face so she didn't even flinch when Maggie unveiled the damage. Her eyes flicked over the bruising, making mental notes of the colors and how old they probably were based on that even taking into consideration the fact that the woman was a were. "Okay, Maggie, I'm going to tell you precisely what I'm doing as I do it. Please let me know if you need a minute. You can stop me at any time," she said as she retrieved the camera and a ruler. "We're going to use this ruler in the photographs so that there's an accurate representation of the size and the severity." Then she held the ruler up to one of the marks and took a picture. "There. That was one. You're doing fine."
Finn rolled his eyes at his friend and cracked his knuckles. Shit. He wanted something to do with his hands, but he couldn't goddamn well smoke in here. And he didn't want to leave even for a quick one in case Maggie needed him. "That sounds a lot like the goddamn friend zone. Too bad for you," he said and then rolled his eyes. "Still crushing all the balls she can." Including his own when it came to certain things. "And not psychotic as far as you know. The really crazy ones hide it pretty goddamn well." Although if following the new girl around with puppy dog eyes would help get Jimmy to stop mooning over his fucking ex, it would be an improvement.
Maggie nodded, taking a deep breath. She sat perfectly still, looking straight forward rather than down at the detective. It was easier, if she didn’t make eye contact. If she just stared at the wall. Bad enough that she could faintly tell what the woman was feeling. Pity poured off of her like perfume, mixed with anger. She didn’t want to be pitied, but it was all people seemed to do. Finn’s mother had reeked of it.
“Shut up,” Jimmy muttered, leaning against the wall beside Finn. Yeah, he was dying for a smoke too, but he didn’t want to leave Maggie alone with Kinkade, not when she didn’t know her that well. And he was pretty sure if Finn left, Maggie would fly into a panic. Nobody needed that. So yeah, standing and waiting it was. And bitching about their love lives, what else was new? “S’only her second day, alright? Gimme time. I’m workin’ on her.” Yeah, right.
Kinkade took the photos as quickly and effectively as she could, and pretty much in silence other than an occasional request for Maggie to lift her arm or stand a certain way. Photographing abuse evidence was definitely one of the worst things she had to do in the job, but she had learned to just get through it. It was a lot harder on everyone involved if you took the time to comment on it. Getting it over and done with was preferable. If Maggie wanted to talk to her, she could, but Kinkade was more than happy to leave any questions until afterwards. After snapping another photo, she said, "You're doing really well. Let me know if you need a break or water or anything."
Finn pushed off the wall and started pacing in a tight circle and tapping his fingers against the walls. Christ, he hated the goddamn waiting. The statement had been hard as shit to sit through, but just waiting was almost worse. He couldn't leave, though. So he paced and ran a hand through his hair and kept glancing at the door every few seconds while trying to continue the friendly banter. "Working on her?" he asked with a quirk of his eyebrow. "This I have to hear. So what's your fucking game plan, Casanova?"
Maggie shook her head. “I’m okay,” she whispered. “I just want to go ho- to Finn’s house.” It wasn’t her home It was the closest thing she had right now, the nearest thing to security. She didn’t know how long it would last though, how long she could intrude on his hospitality. He’d get fed up of her soon enough, surely. “Do you need to um, examine me?” She blushed. She’d seen a couple of true crime shows, when she’d been in the house by herself. Normally they had doctors looking at girls like her. But she wasn’t sure what it was like in real life, if it would be the same. She didn’t want to strip for the detective, nice as she was. Didn’t want anyone looking at her.
Jimmy leant against the doorframe outside, folding his arms and glowering at Finn. “Okay, maybe I don’t have a plan yet. Gimme a fucking chance, okay?” He knew she was single, that was a start. It gave him a point to work from, at least. But yeah, considering how often she’d said he reminded her of her brother at karaoke last night, he didn’t think he stood a chance. So he’d likely just pine after her from afar. What else was fucking new.
That was a comment that Kinkade let go although she wondered whether it would be detrimental to the case that Maggie was still currently living with the man who had rescued her from the fire. It would certainly bring up some questions if anyone wanted to pry into it. Hopefully this wouldn't go to trial. If it did, the cross examiner would surely delve into that topic. The only thing she had to do to imagine the sorts of things they would ask would be to think about what her mother would say. Nothing good.
She knew what that question meant, and she shook her head. "That sort of examination would be done by a trained member of medical staff." Then she hesitated. "Also there are a number of factors in whether any specimen we could retrieve would even be useful due to length of time, whether you've showered since such an incident occurred." Any other sexual activity, though she thankfully refrained from saying that. "Is there any other bruising I should photograph that isn't currently apparent, though?" The more evidence they had, the better.
Finn snorted and cracked his knuckles again, still entirely too hot although he was starting to calm down a bit. All the jesting helped. "Heh. Well. Just remember to let me know what it is so I can tell you that it's a shitty plan and then recommend you go through with it anyway. So I can laugh at you when it fails obviously." Shit. Sometimes he didn't even know Jimmy still bothered when relationships blew up so goddamn often.
Maggie blushed. “There’s some on my thighs from the cage,” she murmured, standing up and unfastening her jeans. “I um. I haven’t had sex, b-but I’ve showered a couple of times.” Her brother hadn’t raped her the night of the fire, hadn’t had a chance to. She wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse. In any case, her shifting would probably have affected it, anyway. She just wished she could do more, wished that there was something else she could do to help. She felt useless.
“It’s always a shitty plan,” Jimmy replied, trying not to look at the door. The girls would be done when they were done. He couldn’t rush it. Even if he did want to get this over with as soon as possible. “And hey, at least I’m still putting myself out there. You’re single, thought you were supposed to be livin’ it up, boozing, broads...” He smirked at Finn. Yeah, most nights out had a lot of booze. Not so much luck on the women front, though. It tended to be both of them getting shot down. Or Finn getting hit on while Jimmy stared into his drink and tried to work out if he had any fucking hideous friends he could go drinking with. Because yeah, sitting at a bar with Finn and Jason for company? He had no fucking chance.
That was actually a bit of a relief as far as Kinkade was concerned. "That's fine," she said as she took the pictures of the bruises as quickly as possible. "You can put your clothes back on." Then she jotted down a couple more things. Even with were healing it could be possible that Maggie would have vaginal scarring from the rapes, but it would be difficult to prove any damage had been caused by her brother. Not to mention that the brother wasn't in any position to go to trial being dead.
Still she figured it wouldn't be too out of line to mention it as a possibility depending on the direction the case took. "There's a chance that we might ask you to have a pelvic exam done in the future." She held her hands up, trying to be calm and reassuring. "That would be done to look for any sort of damage that might have been caused. I doubt it would be necessary, but we would contact you to let you know if it was. If a rape kit was done, it's unlikely that any evidence would be gathered, but sometimes they want to know about older injuries. We would contact you if that was required." Hopefully it wouldn't be.
"What the fuck ever," Finn said, shaking his head at his friend. "My relationships are always peachy keen and goddamn sunshine. I don't know why I haven't climbed on board the good ship casual fuck lately. Oh, wait, I do know. Mostly it's because of Sena who wants to make my life a living hell anyway she can. I've lost enough parental rights. I'm not gonna forfeit the rest of them over a bit of tail. I'll just steer them your way." Why the hell the girls flirted with him always confused him, especially when he was surly as hell with them. Oh, he'd flirt, and there'd been a couple of women he'd dated over the years since he divorced Sena, but nothing serious because Finn just didn't have time for that shit. It always seemed to lead him down dark and dangerous paths that ultimately ripped what was left of his soot covered heart out.
Maggie pulled her shirt and sweater back on, biting her lip as she watched Kinkade jotting down notes. She nodded slowly, hesitantly. She wasn’t over the moon at the thought of more people examining her, but at least she didn’t have to do anything else today. That was a small mercy. “Okay,” she murmured softly, tugging her sleeves over her hands. “Wh-whatever the police need,” she murmured. “I just want it to be over.” The grey bags under her eyes were testament to how much this was wearing on her. How badly she was sleeping. “I-is there anything else?” She glanced towards the door, fidgeting slightly.
Kinkade made sure to keep her gaze directed somewhere else while Maggie got dressed so as not to make her more uncomfortable. When the other woman seemed to mostly be settled, she looked up and tried out what she hoped was a gentle, reassuring smile. "No, thank you. That should be all we need at the moment. If there's anything else necessary, we'll be in touch. I'm sure Detective Martin has all the contact information, but," she ripped a page out of her notebook and jotted a number on it, holding it out, "if there's something you'd feel more comfortable telling me, please just give me a call." It wasn't any sort of attempt to undo Jimmy's connection with the woman, but there were some things that could be difficult for her to talk to with a man. Offering was the least she could do. "I can relay the information to him if need be."
Maggie took the bit of paper, carefully folding it up, scraping her fingernails along the creases and slipping it into the pocket of her jeans. “Thank you,” she murmured, blushing a little. She tucked her hair back behind her ear, taking a deep breath as she walked over to the door, steeling herself for walking back outside, into the busy precinct. She walked straight over to Finn and Jimmy, tucking her hands into her pockets, practically gluing herself to Finn’s side.
Jimmy looked round as the door opened, smiling reassuringly at Maggie, then glancing over her head at Kinkade, eyebrow quirked. “We all done?” He asked his coworker, hoping the answer was yes. Because fucking hell, he needed a cigarette. And a break. “C’mon, I’ll walk you both out,” he told Finn and Maggie, leading the way towards the door.
The moment he heard the door start to open, Finn's head turned in that direction, a worried frown on his face. God, hopefully it hadn't all gone to complete and utter shit. He really didn't think he could take anymore crying, especially if it ended with more awkward hugs and glares from Jimmy. Shit. It would probably be glares not only from Jimmy but also from the potential ice queen he was nosing around. If Finn wanted that amount of goddamn judgement, he'd call Sena.
"You okay?" he asked Maggie when she joined him.
Kinkade followed Maggie Little out of the room and caught Jimmy's eye, nodding in response. "I think we're good for the moment, Detective Martin. I'm going to go take care of the photos," she said, waving the camera in the air and then click clacking down the hall in the opposite direction because otherwise she might be tempted to point out a few things that should be avoided to Maggie's firefighter hero and who knew how bad that could go. No, he was decidedly Jimmy's problem. He could deal with that.
Maggie nodded, smiling gently as she looked up at Finn. “Yeah,” she answered. “I’m okay.” The time alone with Kinkade had allowed her to calm down a little, her eyes no longer so red and puffy. She followed Jimmy towards the doors, relieved to be finished and able to get out of the station. Or nearly, at least. She sighed as they stepped outside, pushing the sleeves of her sweater up as they left the cool interior of the precinct.
"Good. I'm really proud of you for doing all that, Maggie May." And that was probably the end all, be all of what passed for one of his pep talks so he just cast careful glances at her as he followed Jimmy outside. It was entirely too fucking hot outside, and he just grimaced as they stepped out into it. Shitballs. He immediately reached for his cigarettes before looking over at Maggie. "Do you want to stay here or wait in the car while I catch a smoke? Then we go anywhere you want." Which would hopefully be to something way less stressful than this because shit. He was about to chew through his own hand.
Jimmy already had a cigarette between his lips as he stepped outside, pulling his sunglasses off the neck of his tee where they’d been hanging, sliding them on. Jesus, it was hot as balls outside. Stepping away from Maggie so that he didn’t blow smoke in her face, he lit up, tilting his head back as he exhaled. Fuck, yeah, he’d needed that. He leant against the wall, watching Finn and Maggie, watching how careful Finn was with her. Not something he was used to seeing, outside scenes the two of them had worked together. He just hoped Finn knew what he was doing, keeping her close like this.
Maggie was torn. She wanted to stick close to Finn, but it was really warm out. And she didn’t want to take off her sweater, expose more bruises. “I’ll wait in the car,” she murmured quietly. Then smiled up at him. “I can switch the AC on so it’s cool by the time you get in,” she teased, taking her hands out of her pockets. She felt so much calmer now she’d spoken to Jimmy, gotten the photos taken. It was a weight off her chest. And Finn’s praise was like a warm fire inside of her, thawing out the cold core that felt like it’d be there forever.
Plucking the keys out of his pocket with his free hand, Finn passed them over to Maggie who did seem a little better now. It wasn't just that she had stopped crying although thank fuck for that, but she seemed to be maybe a little less skittish. Maybe. That might have just been him thinking that. Either way. He was goddamn glad to have that part over and done with. "As cold or hot as you want it in there. All the goddamn same to me." It was true. He'd probably be hot no matter how long the air ran. That was part of the problem with being a fire elemental, no where was ever cool enough to escape the flame inside of you. "I won't be long," he told her with something like a smile.
Casting a look over at Jimmy, he light his own cigarette and took a long drag off it. "Fuck. I do not know how you manage to do this shit every single day." Firefighting was easier in his mind. The goal was way more clear cut, and there was no way to prosecute fire. The bitch did what it wanted because it could. Fire got bored and blazed the shit outta everything without knowing who was getting hurt. Jimmy deal with people fucking up people every single day.
Jimmy watched as Maggie took the keys and headed for the car, shaking his head gently. “I don’t,” he admitted. “Homicide, remember? I’m used to dead bodies. SVU is so not my thing.” And now he was being forcibly reminded why. He shook his head. “I did this every day, I’d be dead of liver failure by now. I don’t think there’s enough scotch in the goddamn city for this shit.” He took a deep drag on his cigarette, running a hand through his hair. “I’m really not gonna enjoy lookin’ at those photos, am I?” He’d seen some of the bruises saturday night, at the fire. He didn’t want to see them in greater detail.