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drsquidloveSomeone Like You
by Dr Squidlove
drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
Oz/Law & Order: SVU crossover
Tobias Beecher's trying to rebuild his family in the shadow of the man he was in prison. Elliot Stabler's struggling to continue in the wake of divorce while his job eats away at his soul. It makes for an odd friendship, but it works.
Rated R for violence and explicit references to sexual violence.
Wordcount this post: 3261
Full headers are on chapter 1.
Oz is the property of Tom Fontana and HBO. Law & Order: SVU is the property of Dick Wolf and NBC. The characters are used without permission, but with much appreciation.
Someone Like You
chapter 34: Family Values
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 33, Milk crates:
Toby went to the memorial service of a college boy Chris murdered. He couldn't help thinking of Gary's funeral. He found his way back to Franco's in his funeral suit, but it didn't hurt so good as it used to, and it didn't bring Elliot back.
Elliot and Finn questioned a recent parolee, and Elliot couldn't help seeing Toby. He hated that he still worried about him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Toby's car raced over the finish line, and the screen pronounced his time a disgrace. He handed the Nintendo over to Harry and sat back, stretching. "You are champion of the car racing game."
"You take the corners too slow."
As a flaw, Toby was willing to live with it. This pixellated track was the closest he'd been to sitting behind the wheel since Kathy Rockwell, and it had taken most of the last hour to relax and let himself enjoy playing with Harry.
Three days in, and the visit was going well. Holly and Harry were avoiding each other, and that was fine with Toby. Peaceful cohabitation was enough for now. He squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Sitting on this floor is killing me. I'm going to go downstairs and stretch my legs."
"Okay." Harry booted up another game, and Toby squashed the urge to persuade him to come down. They had a whole week. There was no need to crowd him.
Toby rubbed his back as he stood. He was getting too old for sitting on bedroom floors, but it was one petty advantage he had over Jonah. That and his willingness to play Nintendo. The game wasn't much but connecting with Harry, letting Harry make fun of his gaming skills, was wonderful.
This week was what he needed. Far from New York, from clubs of anonymous men, from other temptations. He didn't know where you went to get fucked or fucked up in this city. It probably wouldn't be hard to find out, but Toby hadn't sunk quite low enough to be climbing out his window at night. The spectre of Jonah and Marta learning just what a loser Toby was, was the most sobering cure for lust he could imagine.
He'd been doing better since Adamson's funeral. Since the day after the funeral, anyway. He'd made his choice. He was going to live like a father, not a con.
Here in San Diego he was too busy even to miss Elliot - much - nothing to focus on but the two most important people in his life. And then wish he could call Elliot to talk about them. Toby wanted to tell Elliot how good Harry was on a windsail, how terrible Toby was. Harry had tried to teach him, and ended up sitting on his ass on the beach, laughing. Holly had nothing but formal manners for this whole side of the family, but she'd discovered Jonah and Marta's library, and spent every moment she wasn't with Toby out on the deck, reading. He'd found her crying through Steinbeck, yesterday.
He headed down the stairs to the kitchen, stopping when he heard raised voices out on the deck: Holly and her grandfather. He stepped out in time to see Holly standing over Jonah, yelling, "You're an idiot!"
Toby's stomach plummeted. "Holly!" Neither of them even noticed him.
Jonah was glaring fire from under his bushy eyebrows. "You'll treat me with respect, young lady!"
"You don't know anything!"
Toby's first instinct was to sneak back inside and pretend he hadn't heard them. He stood his ground because he'd vowed to live like a father, not a con. "What's going on?"
They finally looked up, Holly steaming, Jonah teetering somewhere between smug and disgusted. So much for Toby's protestations that Holly was an angel with anyone but her brother.
"Your eleven year-old daughter is schooling me on matters of military policy."
Toby stared disbelieving at Holly. She'd never expressed an opinion on the military in her life. Or anything political at all, for that matter. "I suspect your grandfather knows something about the military, Hol."
"Why are you taking his side?"
"It doesn't matter what the subject is, you don't call your grandfather an idiot."
Holly's eyes narrowed and she rounded on Jonah again. "What about a bad commander?"
"Holly!" Toby exclaimed.
There were sparks flying out of Jonah's eyes.
"You must be a really bad commander if your sailors are scared of gay people."
Jonah was on his feet. "Holly Beecher, you will not stand in this house and disrespect the men and women who fight to protect your freedom!"
Oh, god. That was what Toby had walked into the middle of.
Holly sneered, undaunted. "What about the gay men and women who are fighting to protect your freedom?"
Toby flashed on the memory of Elliot kissing him and telling him if he knew how much Holly wanted to protect him, he'd keep weapons out of her hands. He wished Elliot could see this.
Jonah was turning red. "I have a little girl telling me about unit cohesion."
Toby stepped up and hugged Holly to his side. "You're talking to a young woman, who, when she was a little girl, survived something worse than most of your sailors will ever face. Do you think she gave a damn if the agents who pulled her out of Hank Schillinger's arms were gay?"
Jonah's shame lasted until Holly's triumphant look turned his ears red again.
Toby jumped in before Jonah could shoot this conversation further to hell. "Holly, could you let me talk to your grandfather?" She didn't look like she was ready to leave him, so Toby kissed her forehead. "And believe me, we're still going to have a conversation about calling people idiots." That brought the frown back, and Holly marched back inside.
Jonah stood tall, puffing out his chest. Sometimes it intimidated Toby; right now it just reminded him of that blowhard Colonel Galson, the drunken rapist who shared his cell for three days.
Toby shifted the newspaper, still open on the headline that had presumably sparked the argument. He folded it closed and sat, waited for Jonah to take a seat beside him. You could see right across the bay from here, to the base full of ships that had been under Jonah's command until fifteen years ago.
"Toby, I know what Holly went through. I was waiting on news of my grandchildren, just like everyone else."
"I know."
"There are certainly allowances to be made, but you're not going to do her any favours in the long run if you use that terrible experience to excuse bad behaviour. She has plenty of reason to go off the rails. If you don't teach her self control now-"
"I wasn't excusing her behaviour; I was backing her point." Toby sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He'd never planned for this conversation, but now Holly had blundered in in his defence, and here they were. "Are you teaching my son that there's something wrong with being gay?"
Jonah's lip curled in distaste. "If men want to do unnatural things with each other, then they can go right ahead, but they can keep it out of the military and out of the family, and I'm not afraid to say it."
"Well, that's very brave of you."
"I can see where Holly gets her manners."
Toby bit his tongue. Maybe he was where Holly got her manners, but right now there was more at stake than abstracts. And however tempting, now was not the moment to shock Jonah with his own habits. This had to be about Harry. "What if Harry turns out to be gay, and you've spent his childhood filling him with self-loathing?"
Jonah's mouth flapped, shocked. "How can you say that about your own son?"
"He's nine years old. You don't know who he is. You don't know who his friends will be. You do know there are going to be gay kids in his school."
"You're saying you want me to teach Harry that it's perfectly fine for men to fuck each other up the ass?"
"Do you use that kind of language when you talk about straight relationships?"
Jonah narrowed his eyes. "If you don't like how I'm raising your son, Toby, maybe you shouldn't have drunk a bar dry and rammed down that little girl. I've been here for him for all the years that you weren't, raising him with the discipline you were sadly lacking. You really want to waltz in now and start nitpicking the values I teach him, while your daughter's barking insults at her grandfather?"
Toby fought the shame squeezing his throat. Jonah wasn't going to bully him, not over this. "Seeing my daughter throw an ad hominem at a man twice her size in the midst of a political argument doesn't bother me nearly as much as the idea of my son piling in to demean a terrified gay kid in his class."
"I don't like your implication."
"Jonah-"
"I don't hold with bullying. I'm teaching Harry to respect his country and his family, which is a damned sight more than you're teaching your daughter."
"Does teaching him to respect his family include telling him his father's a heroin addict?"
"I told you, he didn't get that from us!"
"He heard it somewhere." Toby hoped they would never be spiteful enough to do it intentionally, but he'd never be sure. "I had to sit down with my nine year-old son and explain my drug addiction."
Jonah looked away. "Hell."
The moment of sympathy calmed Toby's anger. "I know you don't think much of me, Jonah. Neither do I. But you have to believe I would do anything for my kids. The fact that I haven't tried to drag Harry home should prove that."
"It does."
"It's hard enough living a continent away from my son. Please don't sabotage our relationship."
Jonah pulled his chin back. "I'm sorry you believe we would do that." He actually looked hurt. "You're right, Toby. I don't think much of what you've done to your life or our family, but you have to believe we have Harry's best interests at heart as well. We would never make his family connections more difficult."
Toby wanted to believe him. "Not intentionally, but he's a smart kid. He can read a mood."
Jonah sat back, considering. "Perhaps we could both try harder."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Elliot sat in his car outside the diner, reminding himself this was a terrible idea. This wasn't severing ties.
Elliot kept waiting to feel like the whole Toby disaster was behind him, and it wasn't happening. Four weeks now, three counsellors, and none of it had made a difference. He was almost at the point of asking Huang for a referral. Maybe he just wasn't the sort of guy who got over people. He still missed Kathy, and now he missed Toby, and when he was lying awake at night sometimes he imagined forgiving him. Sometimes he even wished he had Toby lying beside him.
Elliot hadn't made up some paper-thin excuse to call Toby and find out if he was taking care of himself for Holly's sake. He hadn't dug into Toby's file either. He'd promised Toby that he never would, and even now, if only to prove that he was the better man, he wasn't going to break his word. But he wasn't above exploiting a loophole. He had to, or he was going to drive himself crazy.
Elliot got out of the car, straightened his tie, and headed inside. His old friend Brian hadn't been especially useful with the description, but he'd said this was the CO to talk to if you wanted to know about that experimental wing in Oswald. Brian had worked Attica with him for years, and swore this guy was reliable. Reliable, but apparently average height, average weight, average Irish face.
That was him. Average on all counts, but Elliot would have picked the guy for a prison guard in a second. He was looking around, and then he saw Elliot, and his jaw fell. So yeah. That was him.
Elliot had braced himself for this. He hated showing his face to this guy, but he was willing to bet it would get a little extra information out of him.
Sean Murphy stood as Elliot approached, still staring. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, if I hadn't seen Chris Keller dead on the ground with my own eyes, I'd be calling the cops right now."
"No need. I'm right here." Elliot showed his badge in case there was any doubt, and Murphy took a proper look.
"You his brother?"
"Pure coincidence." Elliot had checked hospital records for both of them, even gone back a generation. No dark family secrets as far as he could find. Thank god. He didn't know how he would have handled having Keller's blood running through his veins. He'd acquired a whole new sympathy for Olivia's obsession with her rapist father.
"Fuck me."
They sat and Elliot let Murphy look his fill, held up two fingers at the waitress's offer of coffee. The bold stare and shaking head made Elliot a little impressed by Toby's subtlety. Elliot had never known he was a freak until Taylor dropped his bomb.
Finally Murphy sat back. "I'm guessin' you ain't here to organise a softball league."
"I'm wondering if you remember a prisoner released last year-"
"You gotta be asking about Tobias Beecher."
"What makes you say that?"
Murphy blew out a little pfff, spread his hands. "Look at you."
Elliot shrugged. "Yeah. It's Beecher." The last name felt strange in his mouth.
"Is this an official investigation?"
"I just want some background. Off the record."
Murphy stayed cautious. It boded well that he seemed a little protective. "What do you wanna know?"
"Beecher and Chris Keller."
His lip curled up. "Of course you do. What'd you say you were investigating?" Murphy was no fool. They paused when the waitress brought their coffees, took a moment to take care of sugar and creamer, and then Murphy was on it again. "Look, I'm all for helping out an officer, but if ever I saw one lowly fuck in that place who deserved a second - well, third - chance, it was Beecher."
"Beecher's not... I'm not trying to stitch him up." Elliot shuffled through the last month for some pieces of the truth that would bring this guy onside. "An old enemy of Keller's has been making trouble for Beecher. Beecher's not helping himself."
It looked like Murphy believed that, and he seemed to decide he was going to trust Elliot. He sat back and took a long pull from his coffee. "What do you want to know?"
"Do you think it was some kind of Stockholm Syndrome?"
"Those two? Nah. When I came to Oz, Keller was trailing after Beecher like a dog beggin' for scraps. Beecher was still thumping around on his cane, hardly having a bar of him. Went on for months. In the end it was Beecher that asked for Keller to be moved into his pod."
Elliot sipped his coffee, added a little extra sugar. "This was all after Keller and Vern Schillinger broke his arms and legs?"
"Yep. Certifiable."
That was nothing like what Elliot imagined. Keller begging after Toby? Elliot tried another angle. "You came to Oz when Beecher was recovering? So you weren't around when he was being assaulted regularly by Schillinger?"
"Nah. Schillinger was off in Unit B when I transferred in. Him and Beecher spent plenty of time screwin' with each other, but if you're talking about Beecher's early days sharing a pod with that prick, that was long over. I'm guessing no one put an unwanted dick near Beecher after the Robson incident."
"There a lot of rape in your prison?"
Murphy's jaw tightened. "There's a lot of rape in prison. We only got so many eyes, Detective."
Putting Murphy on the defensive was a bad move. He put out his hands. "Story of my life. Tell me about Beecher and Keller."
Murphy shrugged, the offence already forgotten. "That pair, if they weren't fuckin', they were fightin', and if they weren't together, they were pinin', a regular Em City soap opera. I always figured one of 'em'd kill the other in the end, just thought it would be the other way around."
Elliot's mouth opened, and nothing came out. He ran Murphy's words back and forth in his mind. He had to have misunderstood. Finally he managed to shake his head, barely caught himself from saying 'Toby'. "Beecher killed Keller?"
Murphy hesitated, seeming surprised Elliot didn't have that titbit. Olivia had read Toby's file way back when he was a witness; she would have mentioned if there was a murder rap on there. "Beecher claimed it was a suicide, but Keller? That narcissistic fuck? No fuckin' way. They couldn't pin it on him, but Beecher did it. They fought, and Beecher threw Keller off a balcony in front of twenty witnesses. Lucky for him, the dinks never see nothin' unless there's a deal to make, and I guess none of the COs were ready to put Beecher on death row over a scumbag like Keller."
Toby murdered Chris. Elliot couldn't believe how completely he'd misread everything. Is that what he'd been talking about, with the terrible things he'd done? Not an accident like the girl he hit, not a father's fury over his murdered son, but a lover's quarrel and a murder with his own hands?
Every new piece changed the puzzle completely.
"Are you investigating this? I thought they gave up and closed the case."
"I don't give a damn about Keller. I'm just trying to get a read on Toby."
Murphy's eyes narrowed and he sat forward. "Has Beecher met you?"
Elliot looked up. He should have expected that question. "Yeah."
Murphy kept looking, a different kind of read now, and Elliot tried not to squirm. "Throwing Keller off that balcony... Can't say I blame the guy, but his face right after... I was the one who hauled Beecher off the rail, thought he was gonna dive right after him."
That sounded more like the longing that had been in Toby's voice when he talked about Chris. "What do you mean, you can't blame him?"
"Keller screwed Beecher's parole. Dumb dink finally got himself free, had a couple of weeks home with his kids, overturned Keller's death sentence, and then Keller set him up, got him yanked right back in."
Elliot slouched back. Toby had never told him that. This was the man Toby had been wishing for, instead of Elliot. God knew Elliot wasn't perfect, but he'd been competing with the ghost of a man who'd torn Toby's life to pieces, more than once. The ghost of a man Toby murdered.
Christ. A hit on the man who tortured and murdered your child was one thing. Throwing your lover off a balcony was something else. And what did that make Elliot? Redemption? A second chance? Or just the next victim?
"You want to know Tobias Beecher - so long as you're trying to help him - the person you want to talk to is Sister Peter Marie."
Elliot dragged his attention back to his companion. "A nun?"
"And the prison psychologist. Beecher was her assistant; they were pretty tight." Murphy shook his head. "Tell you what, Detective. I wouldn't mind seeing her face when she gets a load of you."
Elliot was starting to think he didn't want to know any more. Before Taylor's little bomb he'd pictured Chris as... well, not a good guy, but at least a redeemable one. A man who'd made bad choices too young and never crawled out of the hole, maybe, a fuck-up with a heart of gold, but every revelation was another piece of nightmare. He hadn't had any real idea how screwed up Toby was.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
end chapter 34
Feedback conspires to debauch and corrupt the morals of society. Concrit thoroughly welcome, warm fuzzies treasured. Here or at drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
The complete works of Dr Squidlove can be found at http://members.iinet.net.au/~tentacles/squidfic.html
S.
by Dr Squidlove
drsquidlove @@@ livejournal.com
Oz/Law & Order: SVU crossover
Tobias Beecher's trying to rebuild his family in the shadow of the man he was in prison. Elliot Stabler's struggling to continue in the wake of divorce while his job eats away at his soul. It makes for an odd friendship, but it works.
Rated R for violence and explicit references to sexual violence.
Wordcount this post: 3261
Full headers are on chapter 1.
Oz is the property of Tom Fontana and HBO. Law & Order: SVU is the property of Dick Wolf and NBC. The characters are used without permission, but with much appreciation.
Someone Like You
chapter 34: Family Values
by Dr Squidlove
Previously, in chapter 33, Milk crates:
Toby went to the memorial service of a college boy Chris murdered. He couldn't help thinking of Gary's funeral. He found his way back to Franco's in his funeral suit, but it didn't hurt so good as it used to, and it didn't bring Elliot back.
Elliot and Finn questioned a recent parolee, and Elliot couldn't help seeing Toby. He hated that he still worried about him.
Toby's car raced over the finish line, and the screen pronounced his time a disgrace. He handed the Nintendo over to Harry and sat back, stretching. "You are champion of the car racing game."
"You take the corners too slow."
As a flaw, Toby was willing to live with it. This pixellated track was the closest he'd been to sitting behind the wheel since Kathy Rockwell, and it had taken most of the last hour to relax and let himself enjoy playing with Harry.
Three days in, and the visit was going well. Holly and Harry were avoiding each other, and that was fine with Toby. Peaceful cohabitation was enough for now. He squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Sitting on this floor is killing me. I'm going to go downstairs and stretch my legs."
"Okay." Harry booted up another game, and Toby squashed the urge to persuade him to come down. They had a whole week. There was no need to crowd him.
Toby rubbed his back as he stood. He was getting too old for sitting on bedroom floors, but it was one petty advantage he had over Jonah. That and his willingness to play Nintendo. The game wasn't much but connecting with Harry, letting Harry make fun of his gaming skills, was wonderful.
This week was what he needed. Far from New York, from clubs of anonymous men, from other temptations. He didn't know where you went to get fucked or fucked up in this city. It probably wouldn't be hard to find out, but Toby hadn't sunk quite low enough to be climbing out his window at night. The spectre of Jonah and Marta learning just what a loser Toby was, was the most sobering cure for lust he could imagine.
He'd been doing better since Adamson's funeral. Since the day after the funeral, anyway. He'd made his choice. He was going to live like a father, not a con.
Here in San Diego he was too busy even to miss Elliot - much - nothing to focus on but the two most important people in his life. And then wish he could call Elliot to talk about them. Toby wanted to tell Elliot how good Harry was on a windsail, how terrible Toby was. Harry had tried to teach him, and ended up sitting on his ass on the beach, laughing. Holly had nothing but formal manners for this whole side of the family, but she'd discovered Jonah and Marta's library, and spent every moment she wasn't with Toby out on the deck, reading. He'd found her crying through Steinbeck, yesterday.
He headed down the stairs to the kitchen, stopping when he heard raised voices out on the deck: Holly and her grandfather. He stepped out in time to see Holly standing over Jonah, yelling, "You're an idiot!"
Toby's stomach plummeted. "Holly!" Neither of them even noticed him.
Jonah was glaring fire from under his bushy eyebrows. "You'll treat me with respect, young lady!"
"You don't know anything!"
Toby's first instinct was to sneak back inside and pretend he hadn't heard them. He stood his ground because he'd vowed to live like a father, not a con. "What's going on?"
They finally looked up, Holly steaming, Jonah teetering somewhere between smug and disgusted. So much for Toby's protestations that Holly was an angel with anyone but her brother.
"Your eleven year-old daughter is schooling me on matters of military policy."
Toby stared disbelieving at Holly. She'd never expressed an opinion on the military in her life. Or anything political at all, for that matter. "I suspect your grandfather knows something about the military, Hol."
"Why are you taking his side?"
"It doesn't matter what the subject is, you don't call your grandfather an idiot."
Holly's eyes narrowed and she rounded on Jonah again. "What about a bad commander?"
"Holly!" Toby exclaimed.
There were sparks flying out of Jonah's eyes.
"You must be a really bad commander if your sailors are scared of gay people."
Jonah was on his feet. "Holly Beecher, you will not stand in this house and disrespect the men and women who fight to protect your freedom!"
Oh, god. That was what Toby had walked into the middle of.
Holly sneered, undaunted. "What about the gay men and women who are fighting to protect your freedom?"
Toby flashed on the memory of Elliot kissing him and telling him if he knew how much Holly wanted to protect him, he'd keep weapons out of her hands. He wished Elliot could see this.
Jonah was turning red. "I have a little girl telling me about unit cohesion."
Toby stepped up and hugged Holly to his side. "You're talking to a young woman, who, when she was a little girl, survived something worse than most of your sailors will ever face. Do you think she gave a damn if the agents who pulled her out of Hank Schillinger's arms were gay?"
Jonah's shame lasted until Holly's triumphant look turned his ears red again.
Toby jumped in before Jonah could shoot this conversation further to hell. "Holly, could you let me talk to your grandfather?" She didn't look like she was ready to leave him, so Toby kissed her forehead. "And believe me, we're still going to have a conversation about calling people idiots." That brought the frown back, and Holly marched back inside.
Jonah stood tall, puffing out his chest. Sometimes it intimidated Toby; right now it just reminded him of that blowhard Colonel Galson, the drunken rapist who shared his cell for three days.
Toby shifted the newspaper, still open on the headline that had presumably sparked the argument. He folded it closed and sat, waited for Jonah to take a seat beside him. You could see right across the bay from here, to the base full of ships that had been under Jonah's command until fifteen years ago.
"Toby, I know what Holly went through. I was waiting on news of my grandchildren, just like everyone else."
"I know."
"There are certainly allowances to be made, but you're not going to do her any favours in the long run if you use that terrible experience to excuse bad behaviour. She has plenty of reason to go off the rails. If you don't teach her self control now-"
"I wasn't excusing her behaviour; I was backing her point." Toby sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He'd never planned for this conversation, but now Holly had blundered in in his defence, and here they were. "Are you teaching my son that there's something wrong with being gay?"
Jonah's lip curled in distaste. "If men want to do unnatural things with each other, then they can go right ahead, but they can keep it out of the military and out of the family, and I'm not afraid to say it."
"Well, that's very brave of you."
"I can see where Holly gets her manners."
Toby bit his tongue. Maybe he was where Holly got her manners, but right now there was more at stake than abstracts. And however tempting, now was not the moment to shock Jonah with his own habits. This had to be about Harry. "What if Harry turns out to be gay, and you've spent his childhood filling him with self-loathing?"
Jonah's mouth flapped, shocked. "How can you say that about your own son?"
"He's nine years old. You don't know who he is. You don't know who his friends will be. You do know there are going to be gay kids in his school."
"You're saying you want me to teach Harry that it's perfectly fine for men to fuck each other up the ass?"
"Do you use that kind of language when you talk about straight relationships?"
Jonah narrowed his eyes. "If you don't like how I'm raising your son, Toby, maybe you shouldn't have drunk a bar dry and rammed down that little girl. I've been here for him for all the years that you weren't, raising him with the discipline you were sadly lacking. You really want to waltz in now and start nitpicking the values I teach him, while your daughter's barking insults at her grandfather?"
Toby fought the shame squeezing his throat. Jonah wasn't going to bully him, not over this. "Seeing my daughter throw an ad hominem at a man twice her size in the midst of a political argument doesn't bother me nearly as much as the idea of my son piling in to demean a terrified gay kid in his class."
"I don't like your implication."
"Jonah-"
"I don't hold with bullying. I'm teaching Harry to respect his country and his family, which is a damned sight more than you're teaching your daughter."
"Does teaching him to respect his family include telling him his father's a heroin addict?"
"I told you, he didn't get that from us!"
"He heard it somewhere." Toby hoped they would never be spiteful enough to do it intentionally, but he'd never be sure. "I had to sit down with my nine year-old son and explain my drug addiction."
Jonah looked away. "Hell."
The moment of sympathy calmed Toby's anger. "I know you don't think much of me, Jonah. Neither do I. But you have to believe I would do anything for my kids. The fact that I haven't tried to drag Harry home should prove that."
"It does."
"It's hard enough living a continent away from my son. Please don't sabotage our relationship."
Jonah pulled his chin back. "I'm sorry you believe we would do that." He actually looked hurt. "You're right, Toby. I don't think much of what you've done to your life or our family, but you have to believe we have Harry's best interests at heart as well. We would never make his family connections more difficult."
Toby wanted to believe him. "Not intentionally, but he's a smart kid. He can read a mood."
Jonah sat back, considering. "Perhaps we could both try harder."
Elliot sat in his car outside the diner, reminding himself this was a terrible idea. This wasn't severing ties.
Elliot kept waiting to feel like the whole Toby disaster was behind him, and it wasn't happening. Four weeks now, three counsellors, and none of it had made a difference. He was almost at the point of asking Huang for a referral. Maybe he just wasn't the sort of guy who got over people. He still missed Kathy, and now he missed Toby, and when he was lying awake at night sometimes he imagined forgiving him. Sometimes he even wished he had Toby lying beside him.
Elliot hadn't made up some paper-thin excuse to call Toby and find out if he was taking care of himself for Holly's sake. He hadn't dug into Toby's file either. He'd promised Toby that he never would, and even now, if only to prove that he was the better man, he wasn't going to break his word. But he wasn't above exploiting a loophole. He had to, or he was going to drive himself crazy.
Elliot got out of the car, straightened his tie, and headed inside. His old friend Brian hadn't been especially useful with the description, but he'd said this was the CO to talk to if you wanted to know about that experimental wing in Oswald. Brian had worked Attica with him for years, and swore this guy was reliable. Reliable, but apparently average height, average weight, average Irish face.
That was him. Average on all counts, but Elliot would have picked the guy for a prison guard in a second. He was looking around, and then he saw Elliot, and his jaw fell. So yeah. That was him.
Elliot had braced himself for this. He hated showing his face to this guy, but he was willing to bet it would get a little extra information out of him.
Sean Murphy stood as Elliot approached, still staring. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, if I hadn't seen Chris Keller dead on the ground with my own eyes, I'd be calling the cops right now."
"No need. I'm right here." Elliot showed his badge in case there was any doubt, and Murphy took a proper look.
"You his brother?"
"Pure coincidence." Elliot had checked hospital records for both of them, even gone back a generation. No dark family secrets as far as he could find. Thank god. He didn't know how he would have handled having Keller's blood running through his veins. He'd acquired a whole new sympathy for Olivia's obsession with her rapist father.
"Fuck me."
They sat and Elliot let Murphy look his fill, held up two fingers at the waitress's offer of coffee. The bold stare and shaking head made Elliot a little impressed by Toby's subtlety. Elliot had never known he was a freak until Taylor dropped his bomb.
Finally Murphy sat back. "I'm guessin' you ain't here to organise a softball league."
"I'm wondering if you remember a prisoner released last year-"
"You gotta be asking about Tobias Beecher."
"What makes you say that?"
Murphy blew out a little pfff, spread his hands. "Look at you."
Elliot shrugged. "Yeah. It's Beecher." The last name felt strange in his mouth.
"Is this an official investigation?"
"I just want some background. Off the record."
Murphy stayed cautious. It boded well that he seemed a little protective. "What do you wanna know?"
"Beecher and Chris Keller."
His lip curled up. "Of course you do. What'd you say you were investigating?" Murphy was no fool. They paused when the waitress brought their coffees, took a moment to take care of sugar and creamer, and then Murphy was on it again. "Look, I'm all for helping out an officer, but if ever I saw one lowly fuck in that place who deserved a second - well, third - chance, it was Beecher."
"Beecher's not... I'm not trying to stitch him up." Elliot shuffled through the last month for some pieces of the truth that would bring this guy onside. "An old enemy of Keller's has been making trouble for Beecher. Beecher's not helping himself."
It looked like Murphy believed that, and he seemed to decide he was going to trust Elliot. He sat back and took a long pull from his coffee. "What do you want to know?"
"Do you think it was some kind of Stockholm Syndrome?"
"Those two? Nah. When I came to Oz, Keller was trailing after Beecher like a dog beggin' for scraps. Beecher was still thumping around on his cane, hardly having a bar of him. Went on for months. In the end it was Beecher that asked for Keller to be moved into his pod."
Elliot sipped his coffee, added a little extra sugar. "This was all after Keller and Vern Schillinger broke his arms and legs?"
"Yep. Certifiable."
That was nothing like what Elliot imagined. Keller begging after Toby? Elliot tried another angle. "You came to Oz when Beecher was recovering? So you weren't around when he was being assaulted regularly by Schillinger?"
"Nah. Schillinger was off in Unit B when I transferred in. Him and Beecher spent plenty of time screwin' with each other, but if you're talking about Beecher's early days sharing a pod with that prick, that was long over. I'm guessing no one put an unwanted dick near Beecher after the Robson incident."
"There a lot of rape in your prison?"
Murphy's jaw tightened. "There's a lot of rape in prison. We only got so many eyes, Detective."
Putting Murphy on the defensive was a bad move. He put out his hands. "Story of my life. Tell me about Beecher and Keller."
Murphy shrugged, the offence already forgotten. "That pair, if they weren't fuckin', they were fightin', and if they weren't together, they were pinin', a regular Em City soap opera. I always figured one of 'em'd kill the other in the end, just thought it would be the other way around."
Elliot's mouth opened, and nothing came out. He ran Murphy's words back and forth in his mind. He had to have misunderstood. Finally he managed to shake his head, barely caught himself from saying 'Toby'. "Beecher killed Keller?"
Murphy hesitated, seeming surprised Elliot didn't have that titbit. Olivia had read Toby's file way back when he was a witness; she would have mentioned if there was a murder rap on there. "Beecher claimed it was a suicide, but Keller? That narcissistic fuck? No fuckin' way. They couldn't pin it on him, but Beecher did it. They fought, and Beecher threw Keller off a balcony in front of twenty witnesses. Lucky for him, the dinks never see nothin' unless there's a deal to make, and I guess none of the COs were ready to put Beecher on death row over a scumbag like Keller."
Toby murdered Chris. Elliot couldn't believe how completely he'd misread everything. Is that what he'd been talking about, with the terrible things he'd done? Not an accident like the girl he hit, not a father's fury over his murdered son, but a lover's quarrel and a murder with his own hands?
Every new piece changed the puzzle completely.
"Are you investigating this? I thought they gave up and closed the case."
"I don't give a damn about Keller. I'm just trying to get a read on Toby."
Murphy's eyes narrowed and he sat forward. "Has Beecher met you?"
Elliot looked up. He should have expected that question. "Yeah."
Murphy kept looking, a different kind of read now, and Elliot tried not to squirm. "Throwing Keller off that balcony... Can't say I blame the guy, but his face right after... I was the one who hauled Beecher off the rail, thought he was gonna dive right after him."
That sounded more like the longing that had been in Toby's voice when he talked about Chris. "What do you mean, you can't blame him?"
"Keller screwed Beecher's parole. Dumb dink finally got himself free, had a couple of weeks home with his kids, overturned Keller's death sentence, and then Keller set him up, got him yanked right back in."
Elliot slouched back. Toby had never told him that. This was the man Toby had been wishing for, instead of Elliot. God knew Elliot wasn't perfect, but he'd been competing with the ghost of a man who'd torn Toby's life to pieces, more than once. The ghost of a man Toby murdered.
Christ. A hit on the man who tortured and murdered your child was one thing. Throwing your lover off a balcony was something else. And what did that make Elliot? Redemption? A second chance? Or just the next victim?
"You want to know Tobias Beecher - so long as you're trying to help him - the person you want to talk to is Sister Peter Marie."
Elliot dragged his attention back to his companion. "A nun?"
"And the prison psychologist. Beecher was her assistant; they were pretty tight." Murphy shook his head. "Tell you what, Detective. I wouldn't mind seeing her face when she gets a load of you."
Elliot was starting to think he didn't want to know any more. Before Taylor's little bomb he'd pictured Chris as... well, not a good guy, but at least a redeemable one. A man who'd made bad choices too young and never crawled out of the hole, maybe, a fuck-up with a heart of gold, but every revelation was another piece of nightmare. He hadn't had any real idea how screwed up Toby was.
end chapter 34
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S.
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Date: 2015-01-09 11:39 am (UTC)Yay! And I'm excited that someone knows Murphy is a way cooler visitor than Sister Pete. Yeah, Murphy deserved so much more screen time than he got, and if that extra time had been spent macking on a hot guy, I wouldn't have objected. (How about a little fling or gentle flirtation with Toby's dad? They were the two best men in the show; it would have been so sweet.) He hits so many of my kinks: honourable guy who'll stand by his code of ethics, big doofy blue collar guy who's way more perceptive than people give him credit for... Him and Elliot could be good friends, if it wouldn't give Toby a nervous breakdown.
I like that the show never resolved whether Toby got convicted for Chris. I'm sure Toby would blame himself. For starters, Toby never met a bit of guilt he couldn't carry; for seconds, who wouldn't be wracked with guilt after watching their lover suicide moments after rejection? Though I could imagine that eventually, Chris might be the one death he comes to peace with.
I was super-happy when I re-watched and saw that Murphy was the one to pull Toby off the railing. :-) Assuming Murphy wasn't watching at the exact moment, I could well believe he would believe Toby did it. Actually, cognitive illusions are kind of a fascination of mine, so I could well believe that even if he was watching, he could believe Toby did it. With all the yelling before, and Chris yelling his protest as he went over, and all the history of violence... Hell, even Pete thought it was reasonably likely.
I made sure that when Elliot first asked about Chris, Toby snapped at him to shut him up. From there, I'm sure Elliot learned to be careful whenever he poked. God, there's so much ugliness to creep out, I had to keep a special section in my scene-plotting for ugly revelations. I don't think Elliot knows how Harrison died, either.
Thank you, vanillalime! I love your comments.
S.