The First Time, Chapter 7
Title: The FIrst Time
Rating: R
A/N: Did anyone else wonder what happened after Pepa walked out the door?
Read Chapter 1 here
Read Chapter 2 here
Read Chapter 3 here
Read Chapter 4 here
Read Chapter 5 here
Read Chapter 6 here
Chapter 7
The first time she walks back into Silvia’s lab, Pepa almost pulls her gun on Deker.
She’s been standing in front of the door for several minutes, summoning the courage to walk through.
When she finally does, she flings it open and finds the room…occupied. She doesn’t know why she didn’t consider the idea that the precinct would have had to replace their forensic inspector, but she simply didn’t. She expected to find the room empty, exactly the way Silvia left it.
Instead, there’s a guy in a lab coat standing there, with a wide-eyed young woman next to him, who Pepa guesses is a new cadet, and a gagged man seated in front of both of them, who Pepa assumes is the suspect in their newest case.
They all exchange glances. Pepa knows she looks at all of them somewhat wildly, and then her eyes land on a box on the far shelf, one that is labeled “Former Forensics Inspector.”
She almost staggers past the trio, as the guy in the lab coat turns his attention back to the man in the gag. He says something Pepa doesn’t quiet register, but the sound of his voice sets something off in her head.
She has no idea who this guy is. All she knows is that he’s in Silvia’s lab, and wearing a white coat, touching her instruments, and…Who the fuck does he think he is? He has no right!
Her right hand flexes, suddenly itching for the weight of her gun as her entire body coils.
No, Pepa, don’t, she hears in her head. She knows damn well whose voice she’s hearing, but she tries to push it aside. Her gut is telling her something else entirely. She whirls, drawing her gun as she turns.
Pepa!
At the last second, Pepa changes her target, gun aimed firmly at the cannibal’s head. The guy in the lab coat looks surprised, and then goes with it, not knowing how close he just came to staring down the barrel of Pepa’s gun. She can’t look at him.
Instead, she threatens the suspect in the chair, and keeps her eyes firmly trained on the back of his head, until Deker is done taking a mold of his teeth. She tries not to betray the clenching inside her chest as she finally puts the gun away and hears him speak.
“I’ve been dealing with the dead so much that the living are starting to creep me out.”
Pepa only barely hears him as she turns and lifts the box off the shelf. She takes a breath, and looks down. There, on top, is Silvia’s ID badge. Her picture, her name, her title. A life, summed up on a laminated card, no bigger than the palm of her hand.
“On the other hand,” she says slowly, “I’m more disturbed by the dead.”
She has to get out of here.
Dropping the card back in the box, she moves back toward the door. She hears Deker try to introduce himself from behind her. Not yet knowing he will become a friend, and still not trusting herself not to shoot him, she’s brief with her answer, not even turning around.
“Another day,” she tells him, closing the door behind her.
She grips the box to her chest in the hallway, not sure where to go. Turning right, she finally heads down the hall, behind a shelf she remembers hardly anyone visits. She sinks to the floor, back against the wall, the box landing between her legs. She stares down, eyes unfocused. She at last reaches in blindly, and feels something soft. Silvia’s lab coat.
Slowly, she pulls out the garment, and though she knows better than to do it, she lifts it to her nose. The effect is instant.
Though it’s been months, Silvia’s distinct scent lingers in the cloth, and a whine escapes Pepa’s throat as it hits her. She is helpless. She buries her face in the material, inhaling deeply, clutching it. It is the poorest of substitutes, and it is all she has.
Silvia.
Pepa closes her eyes.
It is Rita who eventually finds her there.
Pepa vaguely hears footsteps down the hall, and then Rita’s feet and legs come into view. Pepa cannot move or look up at her.
Rita, to her credit, does not try to make her get up. Instead, she looks at her for a few moments, and then eases down to sit next to her so that they are shoulder to shoulder.
They sit quietly for several minutes.
“I still have a box of Gonzalo’s stuff at home,” Rita tells her at last, as if they are already in the middle of a conversation. “And I still have two of his shirts that he wore that I can’t make myself wash.”
Pepa sniffs and lays her head on Rita’s shoulder, Silvia’s coat still held close.
“They smell like him?” she asks.
“Yeah,” Rita nods. “Sometimes there are nights I still…” she breaks off. But Pepa can guess, because it’s exactly what she would do.
“You still sleep with them.”
“Yeah,” Rita nods again.
Pepa huddles closer to her friend.
“This feels like shit, Rita.”
“Yeah,” Rita says for the third time, pressing a kiss to Pepa’s head. “It does.”
Rating: R
A/N: Did anyone else wonder what happened after Pepa walked out the door?
Read Chapter 1 here
Read Chapter 2 here
Read Chapter 3 here
Read Chapter 4 here
Read Chapter 5 here
Read Chapter 6 here
Chapter 7
The first time she walks back into Silvia’s lab, Pepa almost pulls her gun on Deker.
She’s been standing in front of the door for several minutes, summoning the courage to walk through.
When she finally does, she flings it open and finds the room…occupied. She doesn’t know why she didn’t consider the idea that the precinct would have had to replace their forensic inspector, but she simply didn’t. She expected to find the room empty, exactly the way Silvia left it.
Instead, there’s a guy in a lab coat standing there, with a wide-eyed young woman next to him, who Pepa guesses is a new cadet, and a gagged man seated in front of both of them, who Pepa assumes is the suspect in their newest case.
They all exchange glances. Pepa knows she looks at all of them somewhat wildly, and then her eyes land on a box on the far shelf, one that is labeled “Former Forensics Inspector.”
She almost staggers past the trio, as the guy in the lab coat turns his attention back to the man in the gag. He says something Pepa doesn’t quiet register, but the sound of his voice sets something off in her head.
She has no idea who this guy is. All she knows is that he’s in Silvia’s lab, and wearing a white coat, touching her instruments, and…Who the fuck does he think he is? He has no right!
Her right hand flexes, suddenly itching for the weight of her gun as her entire body coils.
No, Pepa, don’t, she hears in her head. She knows damn well whose voice she’s hearing, but she tries to push it aside. Her gut is telling her something else entirely. She whirls, drawing her gun as she turns.
Pepa!
At the last second, Pepa changes her target, gun aimed firmly at the cannibal’s head. The guy in the lab coat looks surprised, and then goes with it, not knowing how close he just came to staring down the barrel of Pepa’s gun. She can’t look at him.
Instead, she threatens the suspect in the chair, and keeps her eyes firmly trained on the back of his head, until Deker is done taking a mold of his teeth. She tries not to betray the clenching inside her chest as she finally puts the gun away and hears him speak.
“I’ve been dealing with the dead so much that the living are starting to creep me out.”
Pepa only barely hears him as she turns and lifts the box off the shelf. She takes a breath, and looks down. There, on top, is Silvia’s ID badge. Her picture, her name, her title. A life, summed up on a laminated card, no bigger than the palm of her hand.
“On the other hand,” she says slowly, “I’m more disturbed by the dead.”
She has to get out of here.
Dropping the card back in the box, she moves back toward the door. She hears Deker try to introduce himself from behind her. Not yet knowing he will become a friend, and still not trusting herself not to shoot him, she’s brief with her answer, not even turning around.
“Another day,” she tells him, closing the door behind her.
She grips the box to her chest in the hallway, not sure where to go. Turning right, she finally heads down the hall, behind a shelf she remembers hardly anyone visits. She sinks to the floor, back against the wall, the box landing between her legs. She stares down, eyes unfocused. She at last reaches in blindly, and feels something soft. Silvia’s lab coat.
Slowly, she pulls out the garment, and though she knows better than to do it, she lifts it to her nose. The effect is instant.
Though it’s been months, Silvia’s distinct scent lingers in the cloth, and a whine escapes Pepa’s throat as it hits her. She is helpless. She buries her face in the material, inhaling deeply, clutching it. It is the poorest of substitutes, and it is all she has.
Silvia.
Pepa closes her eyes.
It is Rita who eventually finds her there.
Pepa vaguely hears footsteps down the hall, and then Rita’s feet and legs come into view. Pepa cannot move or look up at her.
Rita, to her credit, does not try to make her get up. Instead, she looks at her for a few moments, and then eases down to sit next to her so that they are shoulder to shoulder.
They sit quietly for several minutes.
“I still have a box of Gonzalo’s stuff at home,” Rita tells her at last, as if they are already in the middle of a conversation. “And I still have two of his shirts that he wore that I can’t make myself wash.”
Pepa sniffs and lays her head on Rita’s shoulder, Silvia’s coat still held close.
“They smell like him?” she asks.
“Yeah,” Rita nods. “Sometimes there are nights I still…” she breaks off. But Pepa can guess, because it’s exactly what she would do.
“You still sleep with them.”
“Yeah,” Rita nods again.
Pepa huddles closer to her friend.
“This feels like shit, Rita.”
“Yeah,” Rita says for the third time, pressing a kiss to Pepa’s head. “It does.”