title: A Rock and A Hard Place - Yestertoday

author: cheebs!

email: chbkamen@optonline.net

site:

rating: R

fandom: Tru Calling

summary: "She'd often thought nothing could be worse than watching her mother die. Now, she knew she'd been wrong."

disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. Which is a shame, because I'd utilise them a lot better.

note(s): Subway maps were employed; hospitals, theatres and churches were googled. Screw the address given in the show - 7th Ave is neither west nor east. :P Besides, most city hospitals have their own morgues, rather than a central one for such a large city. NYC Chief M.E.'s office is on 1st Ave, where there's a proliferation of hospitals. Tru was originally supposed to have been an NYU student and the area in which she's seen most resembles the East Village. Therefore I'm placing this morgue on 1st Ave, somewhere between E 10th and 20th. 

warning(s): character deaths. (Duh.)

archive(s): Wherever I post it, plus those with standing permission. Others, please ask.

date: 12/05 - 12/11/03

feedback: like crack, only better.

Much luv to Shack at Television Without Pity - had he not detailed exactly what the writers have done wrong, I'm sure I'd have made similar errors. I'm stealing "yestertoday" from him. Love and gratitude to Vic, for pointing out that this was situated in too nice a neighborhood originally.

-------------------

[July 18, 12:17 AM]

"We got a dead one," Gardez announced loudly as he rolled the gurney in.

Upon hearing him, Tru and Davis came out of the office, where they'd been watching Quincy and debating the case between themselves. Both looked at the other man expectantly.

"Male, early twenties, no ID, no belongings except what he's wearing," he continued, unzipping the bag. "Found in a dumpster in Chinatown. Looks like he was beaten to death. Been dead three, maybe four hours." He flipped it open, revealing the man's bloody and bruised face.

Tru screamed, her eyes wide with horror. Her right hand flew to cover her mouth.

"Hey, I know it's bad, but you saw worse last week - that pit bull attack, remember?" Gardez reminded her.

Davis reached over and pulled the flap closed, frowning at the younger man. "Tru...Tru, let's go sit down, okay?" He grabbed her free hand and led her into the office. She numbly shuffled along after him; it was like trying to get a statue to walk.

Gardez followed. "I don't get it," he commented, gesticulating. "Why's she so freaked?"

Davis gave him a withering look, then turned his attention to Tru. He eased the distraught woman into his desk chair and knelt next to her, taking both her hands in his and looking up into her face. Her expression of utter loss and agony was like a dagger through his heart; moreso because there was nothing he could do to ease the shock.

Without turning back to Gardez, Davis told him, "That's her brother."

"Oh, shit...Tru, I'm so sorry," Gardez said sincerely. He'd always liked her in spite of her oddness.

"You should go home - get some rest," Davis suggested. "You don't need to be here."

"Yes, I do," Tru said quietly, her voice rough and thick. She stared blankly in the general direction of the floor, seeing nothing but Harrison's broken countenance. She'd often thought nothing could be worse than watching her mother die. Now, she knew she'd been wrong.

Unfortunately for Tru, the night was far from over.

---

[July 18, 1:55 AM]

Davis wasn't sure when Tru had finally cried herself into unconsciousness slumped over on his desk. He knew from experience how uncomfortable it could be. He removed his coat from the rack and folded it into a makeshift pillow before gently lifting her head and sliding it underneath. Her features screwed up and she gave a soft, pained whimper which broke his heart anew.

He crouched by her, watching her eyes dart back and forth under their heavily lashed lids in what he was certain was a nightmare, though not enough of one to disturb her slumber.

"Yo, Davis," Gardez called from the doorway in a stage whisper. He cocked his head, beckoning the other man. His eyes settled on the brunette. "Why's she still here?" he muttered tersely to Davis, who had come over.

"Won't leave," Davis said simply, walking over to the latest arrival and beginning to unzip the bag. "What do we...." He trailed off upon recognising the face. "Lindsay...?" he gasped.

The fabric of her stylish black minidress was pulled, as if dragged along a rough surface. Pantyhose were ripped and tangled around one leg; mascara ran in great streaks down both cheeks. Bruises on her neck made it all too clear how violently she'd been strangled.

"They found her in an alley on 14th, not far from the subway. She was still warm."

Both men looked through the still-ajar office door to the woman who slumbered within.

"This is --" Davis began.

"--seriously fucked up," Gardez finished. "Do we wake her?"

The red-haired man shook his head. "She'll find out soon enough." I hope.

The pair set about examining the corpse.

---

[July 18, 2:07 am]

Tru snapped upright, eyes wide, heart pounding so hard it threatened to fly from her chest. She glanced around, disoriented and not quite sure why she'd woken.

"Hey, bitchcakes," a disembodied voice whispered.

Tru's eyes grew even wider. She held her breath, waiting to hear it again and silently praying that she'd heard wrong.

The call came again, louder and more insistent.

"No!" Tru choked out, not wanting to believe her ears.

"Tru?" Davis hurried into the office. "Oh, you're awake. Tru, there's... something's happened...." His gaze met hers and his voice softened. "You already know."

"No...oh God, no." Tru shook her head slowly from side to side; her lower lip quivered. She pushed off the desk so hard the chair wobbled and fell backwards as she raced to the Crypt, Davis hot on her heels.

"Tru, wait!"

She slowed and began walking backwards. "Tell me what I need to know."

"Time of death was between midnight and 1. Tru...she was less than a block from the L," Davis finished sadly, knowing the implication that Lindsay had been on her way to see Tru would hit hard.

Even as tears filled her eyes, Tru's features reflected her determination to set things right - or, at least, her version thereof. She turned again and burst through the door.

Lindsay's body lay on the table, still waiting to be assigned a drawer. As Tru approached, the head turned, and she found herself staring into her deceased friend's eyes.

"Help me," Lindsay begged.

Tru had but a second to offer thanks to whatever deity had heard and was resetting the day.

~ end yestertoday ~