|AIR DATE 08.28.2011|
|Location:||ACRU HQ, Captains' Office|
|Synopsis: Captain Shea passes a verdict that doesn't sit well with the CSI.|
Time has ticked by on the office clock, across the screen of Ramsay's now empty computer, and a sense of — if not calm — organization settles the air of bustling outside the frosted windows.
With this sense of purpose, Captain Nick Shea reenters the room, only slightly less stealthily than he did before; now, he's carrying a weight, a thought, across his shoulders that squares them more firmly. This, he turns on Harry, but not without a soft smile to lighten the load. "Thank you for waiting, Harriet. I know it's been a long day for you…" She's in the chair; this time, he distracts his look on her to the rest of the room, sorting out the other seat that's been knocked aside. Both captains with both desks in one room, chairs for them, chairs for visitors: a new paycheck for the department would be nice. But Shea has no complaint on his face as he wheels the second one up to Harry, creating a personable atmosphere as he sits down to be across from her. "I know you have questions." No table to mark an official meeting, he chooses to lean onto his knees and watch her openly as equals. "I have— " a deep inhale, the slight turn of his head to an angle, "spoken with Dr. Lewis at length, searched his mind," to which he's almost bashful, clapping his hands together to move on, "And Gideon and I have spoken, also. We've decided on a course of action, but I wanted to make sure you were completely comfortable."
When asked to wait by the captains, Harriet obeys. It's not exactly comfortable - waiting in their office - but it's not because of the chair or the lack of anything to do. It's because she knows that while she waits other things are happening - interrogations, the crime scene is being analyzed, it's strange for her to not be out there a part of this. She's not just working this case as an ACRU member, she's also a part of it as if she's one of the victims. That's a thought that sits uneasily with the scientist.
The mental calm that Nick helped give Harry lasted for a little while and her thoughts calmed, her hands stopped shaking and she thought through the situation quite logically. However, as time stretched on, the fear and panic slowly started to taint that peace. When the Captain returns, she twists in her chair, glad for something to interrupt her thoughts. "What did you find?" She does have questions, indeed. "I'm—-I'll be alright, thank you."
Another deep breath flares Shea's nostrils out, as he keeps his lips peaceably shut for a moment longer after her question, visibly debating through his reply— or recalling the facts. He's both troubled and reassured in his recall findings, leaving him look overly determined. A wash-out, leftovers of an argument just before. "Daniel— " he decides, taking a familiarity with the trouble doctor's first name that Nick has always been partial to. Even something in the way he straightens his shoulders, dabs a hand across his nose when there's no cause, is more reminiscent of the suspect than the captain who's been doing the interrogating. A remnant; she's seen it before, only rarely, when the captain probes so deeply on someone.
"Daniel is absolutely unaware of what occurred. I found no trace of what you have said he's capable of in his conscious mind." Never said as an accusation against Harry's word, just an acknowledgment of her as lead witness. "In fact, when told he'd blacked out, he didn't seem at all surprised. I believe this has happened before."
The reaction is something that Harry has seen rarely, but that she knows can happen with the Captain. And, knowing as such, she waits a few moments to let him gather his own thoughts and mannerisms before she wants to ask her own questions. Certainly, she has more than a few of those and his findings only lead her to more. Nick's statement only causes her to furrow her brow in confusion. Didn't she expect that? Didn't she say she thought that it seemed like they were two different people entirely? But, deep down, she was also hoping for a sort of reassurance that what she saw had happened. That it was real and that Daniel could confirm it.
The thoughts go whirring by in her mind in only a few moments and she's already asking more questions. "He doesn't remember any of it?" That's mostly just a confirmation of what Nick has already said. She assumed that he would be unaware of what happened in the holding cell…but none of it? As for this happening before, she takes a deep breath. "I—I think that makes sense. The man - Viktor - knew him. And he knew what would happen. He was terrified when he saw Dr. Lewis."
"Viktor… we're looking into his history, as well. It seems he's been bounced between hospitals most of his life." A sincere sadness dabbles across Shea's face, then he holds out his fingers, straight, an offer. "He remembers portions. Walking with you— he, uh. Asked as to your health." Allowing a moment for Harry to absorb this possibly troubling concern from the man who half caused it, Nick also steals a second for his own thinking. Then, he goes on: "But the sense of fear, the nightmares… it took me several minutes to find a trace of them. And when I followed them back…" He licks his lips, remembering, losing sight of Harry a second in deep recall. "Another mind greeted me."
For a brief moment, Harry feels bad for suspecting Viktor to be the cause of suicides and nightmares at the hospital as well as bringing the very thing the man feared most right into his cell. There will be time for more guilt later, but for now there are other things to take care of. "O-oh?" Daniel asking about her health is not something she expected. "Hm." She'll leave that be for now, as she's not sure how to react to it. Instead, she goes for facts. "But, the why does he think he's here? What did he think happened?" The last thing Nick says is what catches the most of her attention, though. "So…it's true? There's—-there's someone else there?"
"Not… precisely." Adjusting himself on the seat, Shea pushes up from the lean in, letting his arms rest on those of the chair, "What I now believe I was feeling was a defense mechanism. A second personality, created at some point in Daniel's life, in order to spare him from some great burden. In the same way that victims of abuse retreat inside themselves. The way he acts now, the way he perceives the incident at the hospital— compartmentalizes so severely. I believe— " and he gives a light, convincing nod. Convincing himself; convincing someone beyond Harry— perhaps the desk behind her that represents the conspicuously absent Ramsay. "That this young man suffered a great trauma in his life."
Not precisely? So, it's a split personality? The only thing Harry can do under such circumstances is relate it to science, and she she starts to think of it like a complex element which has a core of radiation just waiting to spring if spliced. "An act of trauma. This is starting to sound like the soap my mother used to watch. There was something about devil possessions? I saw one of the episodes once. There was bad lighting and a lot of dress changing and then someone was taken over by Satan and tried to kill someone who was sleeping with her husband. I knew we were living in new and different times…but…I didn't think someone could—-can you actually compartmentalize an ability? So severely that you wouldn't know it existed and only surfaced through an alternate personality? And…is that what the soaps were really getting at? Maybe I should watch TV more." There was actually something important she said in her string of ramblings.
The nod and the glance over toward Ramsay's desk gives her a second pause to gather her thoughts and attempt to think things over again. "Captain Ramsay doesn't think that's the case? He thinks he's lying?"
Shea's attempts to hide his amusement are as silly as the grin he's giving Harry for her ramblings; but, she's right, there's something serious underlying there, and he clears his throat several times in the interlude to regain a drawn face of thought. It's a little too easy to do in these times. "Unfortunately, this isn't a soap." He describes. A second's hesitation catches over his face at the mention of Ramsay. He drops his chin, and his gaze, then lifts them again in a way that rather pointedly affirms that there was something, but now, he announces diplomatically: "Captain Ramsay and I have— both agreed that, in a case like this, the justice system… well, it's simply not prepared to handle a young man of Dr. Lewis'— particulars. I've assured him, and I'm assuring you now, that there is no trace of danger in the Daniel we may see every day and that his presence will never be a threat to you, or the rest of the team— "
Harry nods, reigning in her thoughts again to be more serious. They were always serious, though sometimes they may not come out that way like as her mind has a mysterious way of working. She listens patiently as Captain Shea starts to discuss the plan they were thinking of doing it sounds distinctly like they are planning to release him with no other recourse of action. It's all she can do to not interrupt him, which she does anyway once she can't hold back her protest any longer. "W-wait. Captain. It sounds like you're letting him go." That doesn't make sense. "But…sir, it may not be an every day presence, but that's the same as a gun! It doesn't go off until someone pulls the trigger and then it can kill someone, much like what happened today! People died! He needs help to make sure something like that doesn't happen again. We still don't know what triggered him, do we?"
Hands, quick, pacifying hands come up, but Shea does nothing verbally to interrupt Harry until all her grievances are aired. "I— " he interjects just as soon as she's stopped, heavily laying both authority in the title, and redirecting all blame to himself alone, "was able to separate that part of Daniel's mind containing the second personality. It's completely locked away from him now. He'll never be able to use his ability again…"
This pains the captain at the corner of his mouth; a twitch, there, finds a bad taste in what he's had to say, but he pushes forward for the cause. "Until such time as everyone is comfortable weaning it back, and exploring this case. As it stands, Ramsay and I feel it best, for the team's safety, if it remain locked and— that's why I'm sitting here with you now, asking that you exercise discretion. Lewis wouldn't be able to understand if you explained to him what he did. But… but your happiness is important to us, as well, Harriet. Which is why… I wanted to tell you first. Personally… that we'll be having Dr. Lewis onto the team."
It's a long few moments after Captain Shea delivers that bombshell of information before Harry can even think about how to respond. Nick locked away his ability? She should exercise discretion? He is going to be a part of the team? "But— " First things first. "What happened at the hospital— I'm not… I won't just lie about what happened. It sounds like you want me to cover up a crime. People were killed and they deserve justice." Not revenge. There is a distinct difference. "This is beyond what he did to me and about my happiness."
"Yes— people died," gently clarifies the Captain, "I know what I'm asking sounds questionable, and you have every good reason to be skeptical, but— please, try to remember that there would be no justice. Not in the way we'd like. In the courts as they stand, there would be no distinction for a person whose ability is beyond even his conception, because of something that happened to him he also couldn't control. They would see, like you, a chance to move against a murderer. An AP murderer."
Troubled, but unswayed, Nick leans in his chair, this and that, never quite committing to a side to lean on. "On the other hand, Dr. Lewis' history shows that he's given testimonial at several key AP involved cases, and was able to lighten their sentences based on psychiatric study. To throw his mind into question could erase all that."
A cool sniff, and he picks up a regretful, but pointed note. "And, as you know, Dr. O'Nealy asked off of our cases recently…"
Harry can't quite believe she's hearing this. "Justice isn't for me to decide. That's what this whole thing is set up for. If it were up to me, Dr. Lewis would be put under psychiatric care to make sure he could work out this trauma that has caused all this problem. But, I'm not his judge and jury." This is her superior and she knows that she can't change his opinion. Arguing with him is not going to change anything. Instead, she stops fighting and just shakes her head. "I don't agree with this, sir." She'll let that be known.
"Duly noted." Not easy for Shea to take as burden, but he does so complacently. "I'm sorry, Harriet. I would've hoped we could have sorted this out satisfactorily." Leant back into his chair, he's got an elbow propped on one side, allowing him to toy with his hand near his mouth, always short of rubbing it in what would be visible agitation. He's been through this fight— with someone tossing a lot more weight than the CSI worker. "Unfortunately, we all decide justice in our minds, even if we don't always act on it Now— everyone on this team is here because they need a place. A place where they won't be stopped from doing the job they're good at because of their abilities."
Another sigh; he's lost count. Pressing his hands onto the chair arms he rises, wearily, but readily. A difficult night for everyone, not least of all the woman he turns on once standing, with no less affection, gentle, than he started coming in. "I'll see to it that he goes to another investigator, if he ever needs CSI." His hand grapples for the door. She's free to linger, but there is more work for the Captain yet.
"I think you misunderstand me, sir. I'm not against Dr. Lewis as a person. I'm against sweeping a possible crime under the rug. I believe he needs help and that he may harm other people again should his defense mechanism trigger. You say you've locked it away… but I thought that's where it was before." Harry realizes that she's being dismissed and adds another sigh to the uncountable count. Once again, she knows that she has no pull in this situation. This was merely a courtesy. She stands, drained, frightened, angry, a swirl of emotions she can't even pin down. "I'll do my job, whatever that may entail. That is, like you said, what I'm here to do." And then, she moves for the door.
"I understand, Harriet," replies the telepathic boss, startled slightly from exiting when Harry moves to do it, herself. His hold on the door for her sways with guilt; he hates leaving it like this; they both need the time. When she comes alongside, he steps forward to begin closing the door, watching her with his gentle stare. "I'd only hoped you'd hold some faith in me. Perhaps I'll be able to regain it in time."
The door lightly shuts to Harry, presenting her with the frosted glass of the captains' privacy.