Never the Thunder

by DeAnna

Disclaimer: Not mine etc, I dont even watch the show so they can keep it all.

Rated: M

Summary: Songfic challenge

Author's Notes: Connies POV, NYPD Blue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They are so full of shit. All writers are full of shit. Song writers, fiction writers and movie script writers.

Full of shit.

They always have the same ending. The battered wife fights back and blows away the mean ole husband. Well, reality just doesnt work that way.

There is no not-guilty court room ending, where the scene fades to black, while Farrah Fawcetts smiling face freezes, and you hear the eerie screaming sax as the credits roll. We all cant learn martial arts in a matter of weeks then kick ass like JLo.

The false sense of security is frustrating. I just want to go up to the lead singer of Nickelback and ask, So, what do you think would have happened if there wasnt a gun in the house? Im sure the title of the song would still have been, Never Again, but would have had a very different ending. Oh and Im forgetting one minor detail.theres no way anyone would release a song where a husband beats his wife to death. Its not PC, so it wouldnt fly.

I see reality every day and with all the bad shit I put up with on the job, I can still be surprised at how evil human nature can be from time to time. Youd think Id be numb to it, or that Ive seen it all here in New York. Well, just when I start to think that way, something happens that knocks me on my ass.

Im a mom. Shit. I dont know how to be a mom. I loved my messed-up sister, but just once in a while I get a little angry at her for her stupidity and her weakness. How could she do this to me? Leave me alone with a baby when I have no idea how to take care of it. Her. I mean take care of her. I have to stop thinking of her as an it. Michelle would be pissed if she heard me call the baby an it.

Michelle.

Its so unfair. I wasnt ready for that punch in the gut. I had resigned myself to grieve for the loss of my niece. I was ready to hear itas prepared as I could be, but when the doc said she was ok, my guard came down and I was defenseless to what was next.

I wanted to kill him. I wanted someone to kill him. But as time went by, little by little I realized something. With his handsome face and nice build, hes being treated far worse than he ever treated my sister.

Dont get me wrong, Im not forgiving him. I still think it should have been the eye for an eye type of thing. Maybe he resists arrest a little and gets killed by accident in the confusion. But hes alive. Alive and most definitely living in hell. Yes, he abused her. Yes, he killed her. But I cant fix that and he cant bring her back. I think maybe the eye for an eye type of justice would have been less cruel.

Some say hes getting the shit kicked out of him on a daily basis, and that hes getting just what he deserves,but he never raped her. Is he really getting what he deserves? Im sure hed rather be dead than where he is right now, enduring what is happening to him and thinking about how many years he will have to put up with it.

But every time I start to feel sorry for him, I look at the baby,or I look at a picture of my sister,and the sympathy is replaced with ice. Hes made his bed, now he has to lie in it, {or be held down over it.}Shudder!

I thought I could feel nothing but hate for him,until last week. Now I really cant summon the strength to hate anymore. Theres just an overwhelming feeling of wrongness. It now feels so wrong. He killed my sister, he is supposed to pay the price by going to jail, being rehabilitated, and in 25years he can rejoin society having learned his lesson. But just like the songs and movies, reality is just a bit more complex than that.

You dont just go to jail and do your time, then get out and become a productive member of society. You dont go to high schools and hospitals lecturing about, dont be like me, and speaking at, stop domestic abuse rallys and conventions. The reality of jail is far more evil than anyone really realizes.

I got a call from the social worker in charge of my adoption case. Adoption takes much longer than I thought it would. Its been nearly a year now, and Ive still only got temporary custody as a foster mom; its still not concrete; someone could just take her away if they wanted. So when my caseworker called, I was filled with a little hope, maybe were getting to the end.maybe theres a light at the end of the tunnel. Or maybe theres just a brick wall. She said my job and marital status were impeding the final process of adoption. It is now going to have to be reviewed by a panel of so-called experts who will determine if I can be a full time mother who is totally committed to her child first and her job second. I had some smartass intern following me around taking notes all day and all evening long. It got on my nerves and once or twice got in my way at work. I had to keep a civil tongue of course, I couldnt tell the little asshole to get the hell out of my way or Ill kick your scrawny ass into the next state. No, that wouldnt look good in my file.

But I wasnt having a good day. The cases ran long, and my paperwork didnt get finished until late. I got home and realized I didnt really have anything to eat in the fridge. Normally, I dont bother if theres nothing to eat. I just grab whatever is therea piece of bread or cracker or left over something,but it makes me look a bit irresponsible not to have food in my house, if Im going to raise a child that eats three meals a day even if I dont.

So I looked like a schmuck. I was hoping that it wouldnt do too much damage to the case. After all, since my mother didnt want the baby, I was the only other blood relative the kid had. Well, almost, but *he* doesnt count in my book.

The intern puke told me that my case was in jeopardy of being rejected, unless I had something else to show the board that would persuade them. Of course I had no idea what he was talking about, but when he told me I froze.

Thinking back, Im not sure how I felt at that moment. Dread. Numb. Anger. Fear. Mix it all together with fatigue and hunger, and youve pretty much got it. The intern suggested that I get parental consent. If I could get a document signing over parental rights to me, that is something the board couldnt possibly ignore. Id have legal custody, and there would have to be some sort of court battle to get her taken away, so instead of making an expensive scene, they probably would just vote in my favor.

I of course looked at the little toad and reminded him that the babys *parent* cant sign a form giving up all parental rights, because the babys *parent* is fucking dead! If the interns smartass reply hadnt shocked the hell out of me, I probably would have arrested him and charged him with being an asshole. But he smirked and said, your sister wasnt the babys *only* parent, you know.

Frank.

Shit.

To get the baby, Id have to go to the prison where they are holding Frank, face him without calling him every name in the book and convince him to give up the rights to his only child. A child hes never seen. A child he probably thinks didnt survive Michelles death. Andy told me that Frank mentioned the baby, but he didnt tell him the baby was alive. So I dont think anyone did.

Now I had to think of a way to convince Frank to give her up. Give her to me. I knew this was going to be so very unpleasant.

And it was.

In spades.

I sat in the booth with the little phone in my hand staring thru the plexiglass when they brought him in. It was then that my belief in the justice system was shaken to its foundation.

Frank looked like hell. Living, walking hell. Except for two things. First, his eyes. I know he has green eyes because Michelle talked about them a lot. I never really noticed them, but she did. I did notice that when I interacted with him, he always had a superior, smug, smartass look to him. His eyes too. But now theres nothing in his eyes. Its creepy.there is literally nothing there. Nothing. Void of any hint of emotion, whether it be anger or pain or sorrow or regret. Nothing. Empty. Dead. His eyes looked dead. And second was the more noticeable of the two he had probably put on a good 35 lbs. Of muscle. He looked like a bodybuilder. Or worse. He looked like he could take you apart with his bare hands. He looked hard and mean and unapproachable. This would be the most difficult thing I would ever have to do. Telling my mother that her daughter was dead at her husbands hands was easy, compared to asking this cold mountain of muscle to give me his daughter.

I said it before and Ill say it again. Once I start believing Ive seen everything, something happens that knocks me on my ass.

I asked him.

He said yes.

Just like that. He said yes. Once he started to talk to me and realized I wasnt there to hurl insults at him, he melted like icecream. The coldness in his eyes vanished, and the mask dropped. Thats when it hit me that you dont just go to jail, do your time, learn your lesson and get out. Its the in-between time that will make or break you. It looks like it almost broke him. But he built a wall. A wall of ice and muscle. It probably took a long time, and I shudder to think about those months of building the walls, but hes as protected now as he can be, I guess.

Im not saying I forgive him. I just know that hes getting worse than he deserved. It would have been kinder to kill him. I looked at him for the first time, really looked at him. Michelle always talked about his charm, smile and good looks. Those qualities cost him a great deal those first few months. Its better to be ugly and undesirable in jail. Otherwise, you become rather popular. Poor Fr No, I cant go there. Not yet.

But I did it. I told him the baby was alive. He asked for a picture. He made a deal with me. If I sent him a picture once in a while, he would freely give up to me any and all parental rights he has to her. He told me to give her a good life.

Shes mine.

Smiling face freezes..fade to black while the credits roll.

The End

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Nickelback Never Again
He's drunk again, it's time to fight
She must have done something wrong tonight
The living room becomes a boxing ring
It's time to run when you see him
Clenching his hands
She's just a woman
Never Again

I hear her scream, from down the hall
Amazing she can even talk at all
She cries to me, Go back to bed
I'm terrified that she'll wind up
Dead in his hands, She's just a woman
Never Again

Been there before, but not like this
Seen it before, but not like this
Never before have I ever
Seen it this bad
She's just a woman
Never Again

Just tell the nurse, you slipped and fell
It starts to sting as it starts to swell
She looks at you, she wants the truth
It's right out there in the waiting room
With those hands
Lookin just as sweet as he can
Never Again

Seen it before, but not like this
Been there before, but not like this
Never before have I ever
Seen it this bad
She's just a woman
Never Again

Father's a name you haven't earned yet
You're just a child with a temper
Haven't you heard "Don't hit a lady"?
Kickin' your ass would be a pleasure

He's drunk again, it's time to fight
Same old shit, just on a different night
She grabs the gun, she's had enough
Tonight she'll find out how fucking
Tough is this man
Pulls the trigger just as fast as she can
Never Again

Seen it before, but not like this
Been there before, but not like this
Never before have I ever
Seen it this bad
She's just a woman
Never Again

Garth Brooks The Thunder Rolls
Three thirty in the morning
Not a soul insight
The city's lookin' like a ghost town
On a moonless summer night
Raindrops on the windshield
There's a storm moving in
He's headin' back from somewhere
That he never should have been
And the thunder rolls
And the thunder rolls

Every light is burnin'
In a house across town
She's pacin' by the telephone
In her faded flannel gown
Askin' for miracle
Hopin' she's not right
Prayin' it's the weather
That's kept him out all night
And the thunder rolls
And the thunder rolls

The thunder rolls
And the lightnin' strikes
Another love grows cold
On a sleepless night
As the storm blows on
Out of control
Deep in her heart
The thunder rolls

She's waitin' by the window
When he pulls into the drive
She rushes out to hold him
Thankful he's alive
But on the wind and rain
A strange new perfume blows
And the lightnin' flashes in her eyes
And he knows that she knows
And the thunder rolls
And the thunder rolls

The thunder rolls
And the lightnin' strikes
Another love grows cold
On a sleepless night
As the storm blows on
Out of control
Deep in her heart
The thunder rolls

She runs back down the hallway
To the bedroom door
She reaches for the pistol
Kept in the dresser drawer
Tells the lady in the mirror
He won't do this again
Cause tonight will be the last time
She'll wonder where he's been

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

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