Part IV

St. Timothy's Hospital, 9:23 p.m.

"How is he?" Adam asked gruffly, his face almost impassive.

"McCoy'll be all right, but the bullet near destroyed his arm," the doctor, a short, thin man with a goatee, answered. He held up some X-rays. "See, the bullet entered here, then slammed right into his bone. This used to be two bones. Now it's seven.

"However, we patched him up pretty well. He's got a few screws in his arm to hold it back together, but it's gonna heal nicely, from what I can tell. McCoy was in good physical shape, and his body will do what we doctors can't. Can't say that he'll be as good as new, though. He's almost guaranteed to have a handicap - how bad, I don't know, but I doubt he'll lose too much of his arm's abilities. Good thing the tip of that bullet malfunctioned, or -"

"Huh? Malfunctioned?" inquired Briscoe. He was the only detective present that night. Curtis had not shown up for work that day, but had stayed home to care for his disabled wife.

"Yeah. It was a hollow point bullet. Usually they explode on impact. Didn't I tell you that?"

"No. . ." Briscoe turned to Ross, who had dark circles under her eyes from worry. "I don't think McCoy getting shot in that drive-by was an accident," he remarked. "Exploding tips weren't in the other victim." The other victim was dead. A plain automatic shot had gone right through her heart.

Ross shook her head. "I - I think someone was aiming for us, and it wouldn't surprise me if it had to do with Dawson." She told them about his threat to McCoy in the office.

Adam frowned and rubbed his eyes. "You'd think that a guy like that would learn. Thank you, doctor."

"Oh, one more thing," the doctor added. "You said McCoy was laying on top of you, right?"


"The way the bullet entered his arm makes me think the shot passed through a tightened muscle, like his arm was raised. This means it was probably over his head - and yours, too. If his arm bone hadn't caught the bullet. . .let's just say you have McCoy in there to thank for your life." The doctor turned away, leaving Ross there with the two other men, startled beyond belief.

* * *

Briscoe sat back two hours later at the hospital. Ross had fallen asleep on his arm. He was about to fall asleep himself when his cellular phone - Curtis had insisted he buy one - rang, jerking him to wakefulness. Lennie reached the phone with as little movement as possible, then answered it. "Hello?"

"Lennie, my place has been smashed up, destroyed!" Rey's voice was not panicked, but rather horrified on the other end. "We went out shopping for the day, and when we got back it was ruined. Somebody blew it bad. There was a message on the machine to 'warn McCoy and his friends to stay away from Dawson.' What does that mean?"

Briscoe was startled by the news, but he coherently informed Curtis about the 'drive-by shooting' that had apparently aimed to kill McCoy and his assistant. "Put two and two together and I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Rey."

"Man, to think this began as one homicide in a hotel!"

"Get your family over here to the hospital, Rey. No one's gonna blow us up here, I'm sure."

"I hope you're right."

* * *

The next morning Jamie woke up on the uncomfortable hospital couch to find she had been sleeping on Briscoe's arm. He was fast asleep, too. The whole Curtis family was on her left, the mother and children sleeping on cots and Rey was sitting on another couch, rubbing his eyes, apparently trying to wake up. Schiff was just entering the lobby.

"Did the whole team spend the night here?" he growled tiredly.

"You could say that," murmured Ross.

Rey nodded his agreement and told about the destruction of his home. Adam shook his head and Jamie sat in apparent shock. Then a doctor stepped out of the recovery room. "Folks, your friend Jack McCoy is awake now. Would you like to talk with him?"

Ross leapt to her feet. "Yes!" In her hurry she accidentally woke up Briscoe. Curtis stood slowly and followed her in along with Schiff and Lennie.

In the room Jack was in a white bed with white sheets. In fact, the whole room was white. McCoy was almost as white as the room, drained from blood loss and the sedatives that were keeping him in a state of only semi- wakefulness. His left arm was in cast that covered it completely.

At the sight of his friends he grinned a tired grin. "Hello. Everyone okay?"

"In the worst sense of the word, yes," sighed Jamie. She quickly told him about what had happened to the Curtis family. "My daughter spent the night at a friend's house, the Curtis family stayed here, and so did Briscoe and I," she informed him. "How are you?"

Jack's eyes could tell everything about him when he let them, and now was one of those times. "I'll survive," he said, but the dark, overshadowed pupils of his eyes had a fierce spark in them that usually only appeared when he was questioning a stubborn witness or making a dramatic closing speech. An angry spark. Schiff's eyebrows raised when he saw it. He was the only one that noticed.

"I'm glad, Jack." Ross was relieved.

"Wait. Did you say Curtis' home was destroyed? Sorry, I'm a little slow. It's the sedatives."

Rey spoke up. "It's demolished, with the message to warn you to stay away from Dawson." He winced. "I hate to think what examples the guys who did this woulda made of my family if we'd been home. . ."

"Don't dwell on that, Detective. The notes of information from our victim put Dawson as one of the top members of the Mob. Of course this would make him mad that they are now permissible," Jack informed him. Rey's eyes read Asurprise" at the news. The detectives hadn't been updated on the case since the prosecutors had taken over it. Jack continued, "I'm sorry I didn't mention this before. The notes were to be introduced in a week if things had continued on schedule. I didn't think Dawson would go to such extremes to be sure they never entered the court." He looked down at the ground. "I want everyone involved to have some kind of protection in case he tries another stunt. Dawson pulls more weight in the underground than I expected."

"We're in the big leagues now," Lennie said dryly. He glanced at Schiff and saw him looking rather intently at Jack. "Hey, let Jack get some sleep," he suggested. "I'm hungry. Want something, Jack?" McCoy shook his head. "Okay, your loss. C'mon guys, let's grab a donut down the street." Briscoe herded Curtis and Ross out, leaving Adam alone with Jack.

"Jack, drop the case."

McCoy shook his head again in an emphatic no. "We're in too deep now, Adam. We have to finish it."

Adam looked into Jack's eyes again, but they were guarded now. "You want revenge."

"They tried to kill Jamie and me. They ruined Curtis' house. Dawson is about to be convicted for murder and he's pissed, so he's gonna destroy the people running the case so the case falls apart!" Jack waved around his good arm. "We can't just let that go!"

"Give the case to someone else, then," said Adam. "You've made it personal. That's dangerous."

"No, Adam. I want this guy where he belongs: in jail for life, if not on Death Row. He's a menace to society, he just proved that yesterday. Ross and I know the case inside out. Let us finish it. We've got the best shot."

Adam sighed. "Jack, if you let it become revenge, it'll destroy you. Be careful," he warned.

Then Jack did something he didn't do often: he submitted. "I will, Adam." Then he laid back again and fell asleep in two minutes flat.

* * *

Three hours later Jack was awakened again to find Jamie Ross in the room with a bunch of flowers. "To add color to the room," she explained.

Jack grinned. "Thanks a bunch. It is a boring room."

Jamie put down the flowers and sat down by the bed. "Um, Jack, I also wanted to say thank you. The doc said that you saved my life by dropping on top of me during the shooting. The bullet that shattered your arm would have been in my head. I owe you my life. . ." Jamie stared at the floor.

"I'm glad you're alive, Jack."

"I'm glad you are too, Jamie."

Trial Part 58, four weeks later, 1:17 p.m.

The trial was running smoothly again. The court had stopped meeting for two weeks as Jack had recovered. It appeared that Dawson had not been pleased to hear McCoy or Ross was still alive. According to one of his secretaries he had actually sworn when he saw the news clip about the two ADAs, saying, "How did they. . ." but he hadn't finished the sentence, and no evidence could link him to the drive-by shooting or the Curtis home destruction. However, Jack was not discouraged. The cast that had held his arm since the accident would come off in one and a half weeks. He was semi-sitting on the prosecution table as he asked, "Mr. Waters, how many times did you shoot Mr. Schleissmann?"

Waters shifted in his seat. "Four times: once in the face, once in the neck, and twice in the chest."

"Did you do anything else while you were in the room?"

"Yes. I searched Mr. Schleissmann's bags for anything that was damaging to Mr. Dawson."

"Why did you do that?"

"Mr. Dawson had asked me to." In the defendant's chair Dawson gritted his teeth.

"Did you find anything?"

"I found several pages of hand-scribbled notes in the bags."

McCoy turned around and picked up a few papers off the table. He walked over and handed them to Waters. "Are these the notes?"


"When you found them, what did you do with them?"

"I saved them. Dawson said to destroy them, but this way I could connect Mr. Dawson to the crime if I went to trial."

"Mr. Waters, why did Mr. Dawson want the notes destroyed?"

Jackson stood quickly. "Objection! Calls for speculation."

"Withdrawn. Please read the notes, starting at the beginning."

"No, McCoy! Objection! Approach, your honor?"

The judge motioned them up and Jackson dug in. "What point does this have? It is not directly relevant to the case."

"It goes to motive, your honor."

"For the case it should suffice to say that it was damaging, Mr. McCoy. Sustained," said the judge.

Jack walked slowly back to the witness stand, then asked, "Did you do anything else?"

"No. I walked out the door and went home."

Jack looked at the jury and walked back to his seat. Jackson stood and buttoned his jacket. "Mr. Waters, please tell the court your occupation."

"I own a perfume shop on 32nd. I spend my time there."

"And on the weekends you do deadly favors?"

Waters sat back. "For a price."

"Really. And how many favors have you done?"


"Sounds like you have quite some time coming in Rikers." There was no answer. "Maybe you don't, then? Isn't it true that you are testifying in return for a deal with the district attorney's office, giving you only 15 years in jail along with witness protection!?"

"Yeah," Waters mumbled.

"How nice of Mr. McCoy to offer you that," Jackson smirked. "That's a sweet deal. No further questions, your honor." Jackson sat back down.

Trial Part 78, two and a half weeks later, 10:05 a.m.

Jackson smiled at his client on the witness stand. "Mr. Dawson, what is your occupation?"

"I am the top aide of the governor of the state of New York. I manage most of the work here in New York City."

"Really? So you are an important member of the community."

"Yes, I believe so."

"Aren't you prominent?"


"And that makes you a target."

"Certainly. Many people have accused me of wrongdoing. I have been attacked with accusations of money scandals, of sexual attacks, and now, murder." Dawson shook his head as though shocked. "What a horrible thing to do to another human being!"

Jackson nodded. "Mr. Dawson, we have heard that you made a five-minute phone call to Mr. Waters. Mr. Waters is a self-proclaimed hitman who says he killed Mr. Schleissmann on your orders. Please tell the court what that call was about."

"I looked up numbers to perfume shops in the yellow pages. I wanted to get my mother a gift. If that's a sin, I confess," he exclaimed.

"Than Mr. Waters is lying about your conversation."

"Why shouldn't he, for nearly no time in jail?"

Jack jumped up. "Objection!"

"Sustained. The jury will disregard the witness' last statement. Continue," said the judge.

Dawson amended his answer. "Yes, he's lying."

"Mr. Dawson, how would you describe yourself?"

"I am a careful, kind man. I am prudent about the City's money supply from the state, and I do my best to be sure the most is done for the sovereign state of New York."

"We have heard that you had an appointment with the deceased on the day of his murder. Why was this meeting arranged?"

"Mr. Schleissmann said he wanted to talk to me about how I run the city - an exclusive he could send home to Germany, he explained. I agreed."

"Did he ever tell you that he had damaging information about you?"

"No! I was surprised when the police told me that."

"We will now move on to the death of your former secretary. Did you ever have an affair with her?" Jackson changed gears smoothly.

"Goodness, no! She was a wonderful secretary, though. I was horrified by the news of her death."

"And did you ever speak with Mr. Arnold Smith?"

"I had no idea who he was until the day he was mentioned in this court."

"Did you ever receive e-mails about this false affair your secretary supposedly sent?"

"Yes, actually. I told her it was foolish, that making up lies wouldn't help her career. She wanted money, she told me at work, to keep her quiet. That's when I said she must be dreaming our affair up. She was found dead the next day, a suicide, the police said. It was horrible."

"So, you knew what she was saying about you?"

"Yeah, but that's hardly a reason to kill someone! Some people are just disturbed and don't know what they're talking about. I'm afraid my secretary had a fantasy love life between us. I'm sorry she died.

"As to the German reporter, Mr. Schleissmann, I'm sorry about what happened to him as well, but I can't explain why anyone would have that done. If Mr. Waters did indeed kill him for hire, I don't know who hired him. I am truly sorry about this." He looked at his hands. "That anyone would do this to another human. . ."

"Thank you Mr. Dawson," said Jackson, sitting down.

Jack McCoy stood slowly, taking his time while stretching his newly Auncasted" arm. The doctor had said he had lost 15% of its capabilities - not enough to be much of a problem. "Yes, it is horrible for someone to do anything like that to another human," he agreed. "It's terrible. So, how come you do it?"

Jackson stood. "Objection."

"Withdrawn," Jack replied hastily. "Now, Mr. Dawson, you testified that you were calling Mr. Waters about some perfume for your mother. That's awfully nice."

"It's true."

"Really? Why did Mr. Waters say you called about a 'hit for hire', then?"

"I don't know."

"Okay. Arnold Smith says you got together with him once and you asked him to kill your secretary. He was not aware of our case involving Mr. Schleissmann, Mr. Dawson. Why would he pick you as the man who wanted her dead? Why not someone else, anyone she was close to?"

"I'm not sure, Mr. McCoy." Dawson was slightly irritated.

"If you are so clean, Mr. Dawson, then why would Mr. Schleissmann say he has evidence you are a member of the Mob?"

"Objection!" Jackson shot out of his chair. "Approach, your honor?"

The judge nodded, and the two attorneys came forward. "Mr. McCoy is mentioning things found in the notes, your honor!"

"Credibility," Jack protested. "I'm not using it as motive. I'm contesting the odds he says are against him."

"But the jury will inevitably draw conclusions off of this!"

"We can't just let him lie on the stand!"

The judge gave Jack an annoyed look, but said, "Objection denied. You may proceed, Mr. McCoy."

"Thank you, your honor." he turned back to Dawson. "So, why did Mr. Schleissmann say that you were in the Mob?"

Dawson shrugged. "I have no idea, Mr. McCoy. He must have had bad information."

"From someone like Waters? Or Smith?"


Jack stood back for a moment, examining Dawson. Then he plunged back in again. "Mr. Dawson, when you found out that your secretary thought she had an affair with you, did that make you angry?"

"No. It confused me."

"If someone told me that, I'd be angry!" protested McCoy.

"Well, it didn't bother me."

"Come on! Today if a woman cries out 'affair!', everyone flocks to her and leaves the man to cope. Surely it bothered you that she was trying to make you look bad with this information."

"I dealt with it."

"With your anger? I thought you weren't angry!"

Dawson flushed slightly at his tongue slip. "No, I dealt with her!"

"I'm sure you did." The statement was cold. "When you found out about the information that Mr. Schleissmann had, weren't you angry?"

"I heard about that after he died!"

"Oh really? Your first statement to the police, sir!" Jack slammed down the paper in front of Dawson. "Please read it."

A'Mr. Dawson said he didn't want Mr. Schleissmann to think he had anything to hide.'" Dawson read.

"Did you have something to hide, Mr. Dawson?" Jack's eyebrows raised.

"No!" Dawson gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. "I don't have anything to hide, Mr. McCoy." However, a small hint of anger was glowing behind his brown eyes. Jack saw it smoldering, and he leapt to fan the flame.

"Mr. Dawson, you have said that Waters is lying, Smith is lying, your secretary was lying, and Schleissmann was lying! Is the whole world out to get you?" Jack gasped.

"Maybe." Dawson tried to stay calm.

"If it is, does that ever make you mad?!"

"I never thought about it!"

"Is this investigation making you mad?"

Dawson nearly snapped back, but he restrained himself visibly and replied, "Yes. It is an injustice to me and the people I should be working for."

"You're not working for the people, only for yourself! You kill anyone who gets any ideas about exposing the truth about you! Withdrawn," Jack spoke quickly. "Mr. Dawson, does my case against you make you angry? You, personally," he asked.

Dawson seethed, but he had to answer. "Yes," he finally said.

"Mad enough to try and have me and my friends killed?" Jack snapped.

Jackson fairly flew from his chair. "Objection!"

"I'm establishing pattern, your honor."

"I'll allow it, but lightly, McCoy. Objection denied."


"No! I don't know a thing about it, McCoy, and this is going too far!"

"Oh and killing isn't? Then why is it I've had this arm in a cast for six weeks?!"

"Someone shot you, McCoy, but I don't know who!" Dawson shouted.

"Just like you don't know who sent Detective Curtis a threat, warning us to lay off, after destroying his home?"


"Mr. McCoy. . ."

Jack didn't take his eyes off Dawson. "Just like you don't know who sent Waters and Smith to kill people even though they both came up with you as their contractor? Just like you didn't know about the 'imagined' affair or the damaging papers?" Jack waved around his hands as he slowly moved towards Dawson. When he reached the stand he planted his hands on the wooden wall between him and Dawson, whose eyes smoldered with hate now. McCoy looked right into those eyes. "It seems you are quite ignorant of everything around you, but you are the center of everyone else's universe; everyone knows you, but you don't know anyone." Jack leaned closer. "Care to explain, sir?"

There was a full ten seconds of silence as the two men stared each other down. Dawson dropped his eyes, and Jack immediately stood up again. "You don't have to answer that." He walked back to his seat.

Trial Part 80, 4:08 p.m.

Jackson was pacing in front of the jury, stopping every so often to look one of them in the eye, as he gave his closing statement.

"It is a terrible thing when someone sinks to sending off other men to kill people for hire. Mr. Schleissmann was not armed. He wasn't even awake when he was shot. And that is horrible. However, Mr. Dawson had nothing to do with it.

"Mr. McCoy would have you believe that my client is a cold-blooded murderer that doesn't care a bit about anything around him. That is simply not true. You have heard witness after witness tell you that he is a good man. Mr. Dawson is a fundamentally good person. People like him do not kill others in their spare time.

"Mr. Dawson has been through similar situations: people have accused him of fraud, of embezzlement, of affairs, and now, of killing others. However, he has never been convicted. The reason for that is he didn't commit those crimes! He simply didn't do them, and the law functioned as it should, keeping the innocent out of prison.

"In the world today it is so easy to finger those that are powerful and to say, 'They took my money, they had an affair with me, they wanted me dead.' With some of the recent conduct of the very President of our country, it is sometimes almost expected that 'they all do that.' When Mr. Waters was informed that he was under arrest for the murder of Mr. Schleissmann, he fingered my client as his ticket out, and got only a few years in prison for six murders. Six! They don't even fit on one hand. Waters figured he could use my client as a scapegoat. He did indeed know about the papers against my client. Mr. Dawson did not, but who was to say? Waters used them as his ticket to freedom. Apparently Mr. Smith went the same way. Both have killed before, and both merely pointed at Mr. Dawson and got away with it!

"My client has been accused by the deceased to have done some very terrible things. Mr. Schleissmann had information suggesting Mr. Dawson is a member of the mob. Now, can you believe everything you hear? Of course not. As for the affair allegedly held between my client and his secretary, it has been revealed that he did not ever have a sexual relationship with her. His secretary may have been imagining it, or maybe she just wanted some money, but in any case she thought she had an affair with my client. Once again this is a lie. He never had one. When the pressure got to her, she killed herself: this is a true tragedy, but my client was not involved.

"Mr. Dawson may have been accused of many things, but he never has killed anyone or had someone kill for him. He is just a decent man trying to make a living, who happens to have found success in the area of politics." Jackson sat back down.

McCoy stood slowly. Ross noticed that he made a slight show of trying to fully stretch out his arm - it was something that he was not expected to do again, ever. He walked out from behind the table and looked at the jury.

"Mr. Dawson is a powerful man. He's been one for several years now as the right-hand-man of the governor. Dawson has worked hard to get there, I'm sure - but his steps to the top have included murder.

"You have seen this whole case. I won't insult your intelligence. There have been many good points for both sides. But what the defense is suggesting is not logical. According to Jackson, Mr. Dawson is telling the truth, and he didn't do anything. Give this some thought. That would mean that everyone else you have seen these past weeks have been lying.

"Mr. Waters - he says Dawson told him to kill Schleissmann. So did Mr. Smith. Did they consult with each other? No. But they came up with the same basic story and with Dawson on their own. What about the notes from the deceased Mr. Schleissmann? Did he make up the information about Mr. Dawson being part of the Mob?" McCoy shook his head. "That would be a stupid thing to joke about.

"If Mr. Dawson is telling the truth, then where is the evidence? We have phone records that prove Mr. Dawson called Mr. Waters three days before the murder. We know Mr. Waters took papers from Mr. Schleissmann's materials that were damaging to Mr. Dawson! Why would he do that? For fun? It's because Mr. Dawson asked him to.

"How about Mr. Dawson's secretary? What a tragedy - it was considered a suicide. But you have seen that it was not a suicide, but a homicide, inspired by Mr. Dawson! And why? To protect his love life. He didn't want people to think he had an affair. Which he did, and to keep it quiet, he stooped to murder!

"Mr. Dawson would have you believe that all these things are merely coincidences. He was ordering perfume when he called Mr. Waters - what incredible chance! It's just bad luck. Mr. Smith fingered him for fun! He just pulled a random name out of a hat, and it happened to be Dawson! How convenient he's on trial for another, similar murder. Don't let yourself be fooled by Mr. Dawson's conspiracy theory! It makes for a wonderful movie plot, but it does not make a case in this courtroom! The fact is, ladies and gentlemen, that it is Mr. Dawson who is running the only conspiracy in this room - and that conspiracy to murder those that try and stand up to him. That is what you must convict him for." Jack continued to stand in front of them for a minute, then he made his way back to his seat.

Trial Part 81, 2:23 p.m.

The jury filed back into the courtroom and the foreman handed the paper with the verdict on it to the bailiff. Jack and Jamie, Jackson and Dawson all watched the paper on its way to the judge, who glanced at the paper and handed it back to the bailiff, and they watched it all the way back.

"Mr. Foreman, have you reached a verdict?" the judge asked.

"Yes, we have, your honor."

"Would the defendant please stand." Mr. Dawson slowly rose to his feet along with his lawyer. "On the first count, murder in the first degree, how do you find?"

The foreman began to read the paper he held. "We find the defendant, Jim Arnold Dawson, guilty." There was an instant feeling of relaxation in the courtroom. Dawson turned from the jury in shock. The second announcement was merely a formality.

"On the second count, murder in the first degree, how do you find?"

"We find the defendant guilty."

Jack's shoulders dropped in an admitted relief. Jamie smiled and began to stand. Then there was a shout from the other end of the courtroom. "How can this have happened!? You, McCoy. . ." Dawson snapped.

McCoy turned to Dawson, standing slowly. "Mr. Dawson?"

"You did this to me! How dare you!"

"No, Mr. Dawson. You did this to yourself. Let's go." Jack turned away from the steaming defendant. Dawson turned his eyes on Ross accusingly. Jamie returned the look, then walked out of the courtroom calmly, leaving Dawson to stew in his own anger.

* * *

On their way out of the courthouse, Ross suddenly piped up, "I'm your assistant again, Jack."

Jack glanced at her. "I thought you would get back with your old Executive ADA after this case."

Jamie smiled. "I checked with Adam, and I'm sticking with you. I forgot how much fun prosecuting important cases could be."

"What about your daughter?"

"Let's just say I'll be prosecuting important cases part-time."

"That works."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. Thanks for working the case with me. You make a wonderful second chair."

"You're welcome." The two attorneys continued down the marble steps.

District Attorney Adam Schiff's Office, 8:45 p.m.

Jack poured some light whiskey into his cup and said, "Dawson will be going to jail for a long time unless he's executed. We've got the family of Mr. Schleissmann coming up all the way from Germany to testify at the sentencing hearing."

Jamie nodded. "He's gonna be gone for a while. As for the governor, he's pleading out of the bribery charges, but his political career is over."

McCoy shrugged. "Too bad we're not prosecuting the case."

Schiff glanced at McCoy. "I kept you off that case on purpose. You would have prosecuted him from here to kingdom come."

"And I would've done a good job too." Jack grinned over his scotch. Adam shook his head.

Ross frowned. "Jack, one thing about that case: what about Waters and Smith? They're both getting off easy!"

At that Jack looked down. "We lost those guys to get Dawson," he rationalized, but it wasn't very convincing.

Adam shook his head again. "You lost two hit men for a corrupt politician; Dawson used them to save his butt." He rubbed his temples. "What a case." Slowly he rose to his feet. "Coming?"

Jack and Jamie stood and followed their boss out the door.

* * *

Author's final notes: What did you think? Please, please review; reviews are always good.

In case you are wondering why I inflicted this fic on you, it is because Apochrypha - the current master of all L&O fics - did not accept it. Looking back on it (it was written about 3 years ago), I am not surprised. However, I thought I'd throw this piece out for all to criticize and comment on as they please.

Yes, McCoy is my favorite character.

Yes, I dislike Abbie, or at least liked Jamie better.

Yes, I'm crazy.

No, I can't write a good conspiracy theory.

Thanks for reading anyway.