tushanshu | 13N09 [AUDIO]

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13N09 [AUDIO]

[There's a short silence before Costigan speaks. When he does, it's probably the most tentative he has ever sounded.]

I can't tell you what happened. I wasn't a part of this world, but now I am again. Maybe I was dreaming, maybe I was a spirit, I don't know.

[Another pause. You can hear the frown.]

I need anyone who knows me to contact me.

And I might need a doctor.

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[The undercover turns and gives a smile at her words before retrieving his coffee and taking another long sip. How the two of them came to trust each other, he continues not to know, but he does believe it now more than ever and is grateful for her presence in his life. Even if the version of him that remembers might be less so. At least she's here to prevent his complete isolation, his usual response in these situations.]

I don't know how you came to that decision, but it's good. You should trust me.

[She stands a little straighter.]

You've looked out for me. Even though you have no reason to.

[Costigan straightens in response, taking another sip to finish off his coffee and then setting the mug aside again.]

You look out for me too?

You don't tell me much, but I try and make sure you at least eat. [It's true. He hasn't told her much. It's not that she hasn't wanted to ask, but neither one are very open people, and while she's told him most of her situation, well she definitely needs more protecting here than he seems to.]

That's probably the best you can do. [He offers with a soft smile. The undercover has never been all that good about taking care of himself in the private sector. He's the type to swap a beer for a meal and sometimes skip food entirely. Maybe her presence is why he feels a little more level and energetic.]

Is there anything you really want to know?

[She sort of just shrugs. That's a broad question.]

Where you're from, what you do? I really only know your name and your habits here.

[His smile fades with the idea of opening up, even once it has been offered.]

Boston, Massachusetts. I grew up with my mom on the North Shore mainly, but spent the weekends in South Boston with my dad. I tried to be a cop and that didn't work out, so I worked with my cousin and some guys he knew. [He shrugs noncommittally, speaking factually rather than emotionally.]

I've never been to Boston. [She can tell he doesn't like opening up, and she doesn't want to pry too hard. So she focuses on something else there.]

Is it nice?

[Because she definitely doesn't know about Southie.]

[He appreciates the gesture. Having forgotten her, that natural trust that developed between them isn't there. He's let trusting buried instincts that say, while she might be telling the truth, it would be foolish to admit to anything too profound.]

Yeah. [Costigan can't help a smile when he talks about his city.] The green line's fucked, but the rest of it's good. The pubs, the history, the seafood. It's good. The people are somethin' else too.

The only thing I know about it is the Boston Tea Party. And I've heard about the 'chowda'. [Look at her attempt at his accent. She gives a small grin, trying to ease him some.]

It's by the coast, right? I grew up in Minnesota. [See, they can do this. She moves to sit on the corner of his bed, more relaxed now. Like two people hanging out.]

[His smile widens with her attempt at the accent. Everyone knows the Boston accent and it's something he has picked up unintentionally paired with his aggression. The upper class North Shore of his upbringing believed themselves above the speech, but he had intentionally imitated the speech as a kid when spending time with his father in Southie. Over time, it became natural, a defense mechanism in the same vein as posturing or talking shit.]

Yeah, it's on the coast. East Boston's a peninsula and there's an island out past the harbor that used to be a jail or somethin'. [His hands lift to form the shape of a peninsula to the east of a land mass, trying to orient her somewhat.] My dad used to take me to the fish market sometimes, at the Waterfront.

[But that's enough talk about his family. His smile turns vaguely sheepish.] Can't say I know anything about Minnesota.

[She catches the bit about his father, and she of all people can understand daddy issues, so she doesn't touch it. Instead she chooses to run with the topic he brings up. Her hands cup into the sleeves of her shirt as she tucks a strand of hair back.]

You fish? Will does, too. He was going to give me lures once, I guess-- but felt it wasn't a good gift. Since my dad took me hunting. I'm pretty good though. [She's good with a gun.]

Nah, I don't fish. Or hunt. The fish market was a bunch of fishermen- real professionals. They went out on their boats and brought back all the fresh fish. It was mainly restaurants who would go there, or people having some celebration. We never bought anything. Sometimes it was more about- [He glances off to the side, again uncomfortable with opening up at all.] ..about spending time together, you know?

[Then he pauses for a second before looking up to her again.] I went through the Academy- Police, most of it. Learned to shoot there.

[He reaches around to the small his back and withdraws the 9mm Walther PPK from the waistband of his pants. The undercover lifts it with his index finger along the barrel, keeping the gun pointed at the ground. It takes no thought for him to follow protocol, a subtle sign of the training he endured. It's a simple gesture, just one to show her that he has the item.]

You should know I have this, if you don't already. [Then he returns it as quickly and smoothly as he drew it.]

I knew it. [She grins a little at his admission about going through the Police Academy. She said as much when they met. Abigail has a wider grin at that.

The gun is a little different, but not surprising.]

I didn't. But if it keeps you feeling safe. [She shrugs.]

[Her response makes him wonder a little. He knows he's private and doubts he shares much at all, but not knowing his history at the Academy or that he carries a gun isn't exactly a great sign.]

Didn't work out for me. The Academy.

[He leaves it at that. He's not about to break his cover for anyone, but he's not too keen to admit to an assault and battery arrest with someone who has the history she does.]

But yeah, the gun helps. [A beat.] I haven't used it yet, but.. I don't have powers. It helps knowing I have somethin'.

Oh, sorry. [She looks down.] Well I guess the FBI isn't going to work for me either.

[Being dead and all.]

I don't have powers either. They don't exist where I'm from.

Maybe you can start an agency here. [It's not the same, he knows, but it's something. Even the FBI had to start somewhere and someone had to be in charge of the police force here that she could talk to or work with. He was surprised he didn't know who it was - and then silently wondered if that was one of the people he had forgotten.]

Me either, which is for the best. I don't like 'em. [It's not said with anger or fear, but stated as a simple fact.] Hey, maybe when this is all over, the Emperor could send you somewhere else. A different world, where you could join the FBI there.

[Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he didn't want her to give up on hope. For all the strife he had endured, for all the times he was going insane and feeling like he literally would explode with anxiety, Costigan had always had hope. Hope that the situation would resolve, hope that it would get better, and hope that he could one day retire to do something else and have a family.]

It wouldn't do anything. [The natives here had too much control over that. She doesn't mind so much. Abigail shrugs.] I kind of like working at the bakery anyway. Olivia's really nice.

Kind of like you.

[He may have argued that it could have a use if he could remember his own position in the city. Instead, he accepts the comment with indignant resignation to the idea that she might be right.

At her remark about working at the bakery, he straightens a bit. He knows the place from something Peeta and Astrid used to run together, but he doesn't know an Olivia and wonders just how many people he has forgotten, if she's another one of them.

There's a beat after her compliment. He's never been good at accepting such positive candor about himself. So he smiles and lifts a hand in a mock gesture of surrender.] You hungry?

You asked me already, and I said yes.

[He gives a small, lopsided smirk. He knows he already asked. That's not the point.]

Then what the hell are we still doing here? Let's go get somethin'.

[Costigan turns and moves towards the door, snatching his jacket off the back of a chair on the way. He pauses at the door, however, to ensure that she's with him.]

Edited 2013-11-23 02:06 (UTC)

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13N09 [AUDIO]

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action; Want to wrap it up?