Defender's Dream
Dream a Little Dream of Me

Note - This story is a continuation of the Defender Series, first appearing in Lascia Ch'io Pianga - The Defender. It takes place nearly two years after Lascia Ch'io Pianga - The Key

 
Previously:

Donna Carter lay in a bed in Pennsylvania Hospital’s ICU. She had been shot in the chest taking a bullet for Dani Liu, Federal Marshal and erstwhile girlfriend. She was talking with Dani and with Ricki Olerud, the teen who nearly died at the hands of his stepfather, along with his fiancé Alice Chang. Donna looked up, disappointed until she spied Terry Manahan standing in the doorway of the unit, his hands holding a card and flowers.

She looked at Donna with amazement; how in such a short time they had made a connection; it was more than just a brief professional encounter or even a nice new friendship. She owed Donna her life even more for the love that they now shared. Perhaps soon-to-be-ex Marshal Dani Lieu looked at Donna and knew that no matter what happened from then on, everything would be alright. She leaned over and kissed Donna. Donna returned the favor and kissed back, the first time "Donna" had ever kissed anyone. It was warm; it was promising, and it was beautiful.

A few years later:

Donna looked at the growing pile of paperwork on her desk. New cases every day seemed to push old cases aside; urgency coming from outside the office compelled the head of the department to change priorities on a moment to moment basis.

"You got the report on the Davidson family?" A voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked up to see Captain Amundsen standing in front of her desk, her face a mask of impatience.

"Just finishing up now," she lied. She was at least an hour away from completing the casework. Davidson had repeatedly raped his daughters and had been flying under the radar; a higher up in the precinct looked the other way because of Davidson’s position as a city councilman.

"Have it on my desk by four, okay?" The captain's impatience gave way to understanding as she smiled.

"He's not going anywhere." The investigation was thorough and short; owing to a confession by the assistant police commissioner. His willingness to testify, coupled with a readily available 45 automatic, equaled Davidson eating the gun on a bright Sunday afternoon in May.

"Well, at least not in this lifetime," Donna laughed weakly while looking down at the floor. As the only liaison working currently for the Victim Assistance Program at the precinct, she had worked hard with the investigating detectives and child services to have the two girls removed from the home while the case was pending. Perhaps a place was reserved for men like Davidson; Donna certainly hoped so. She still felt the pain of the loss of her only child as labor took both the son she’d never watch grow up and the wife she had hoped to grow old with. Hurting a child was personal to her.

“Nothing on the board right now. I want you to ignore that pile on your desk for the rest of the day and go home. Donna had been in the office since six that morning, trying to sort out the Davidson girls’ placement, and had located a cousin of Davidson’s late wife. Now that the case was finished, Donna looked forward to going home, putting on her PJ’s, fixing some cocoa and finishing the Faye Kellerman novel she had started only last evening.

“Oh, shit.” The familiar voice yelled in disgust from behind. Donna turned around and came face to face with her old partner and brother-in-law, Terry Manahan. He had just poured himself a cup of old coffee only to bump into the doorway to the department.

‘Manahan, if you had asked, I could have gotten a donut to go along with the coffee. Nice light brown, might have gone well with your jacket,” Donna said as she handed Terry a paper towel.

“Thanks, partner.” Neither worked in investigations since the Olerud case nearly went south two years ago. Manahan had retired, and was working as a PI and part time security consultant for a big IT firm in Philly.

“You still having balance problems,” Donna asked as she poured another cup of coffee for Terry.

“Yeah...Doc says it’s low blood pressure. Gotta start drinkin’ some wine at bedtime, I suppose.”

Donna nodded and handed him his coffee. They walked over to her desk, where the pile of paperwork had gotten taller in the moments she was away. Gladys waved from her own desk.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, just have it done by mornin’” She laughed. Too much work and not enough help; the bane of every police precinct in Philly. It was a running joke between them that had gotten old for both a long time ago.

“Not a problem; I’ll file it right after I turn in my resignation!” Donna laughed. Paperwork was the least of her worries. Between the liaison job at the department, classes two days a week to finish her master’s in Psych, and trying to balance a home life that included her cat, a newly acquired tom named Magnum; and her budding relationship with her girlfriend, Dani Liu.

“How’s Magnum working out? I figured he could use a home and seein’ how’s you’ve got all that room in your house…oh shit….Donna, I’m sorry.” Terry winced. Donna was seeing Dani, but was still dealing with the loss of her wife, Terry’s sister. Jean. She died in childbirth, as did their only child Stephen. Donna had begun living as a woman full time about a year after Jeannie’s death, which still hurt both her and Terry.

“Don’t worry about it, partner. I’m okay.” She was anything but okay. Her relationship with Dani was sputtering due to unresolved guilt and grief even though Jeannies's death was nearly three years in the past.

Donna, rather Don had been working a stakeout with another precinct on loan. Jeannie had gone into premature labor and a ruptured uterus had caused her to bleed out in a matter of minutes. Stephen lived for six minutes after his mother’s death as the doctors tried in vain to revive him. Don blamed himself for not being there even though Jeannie’s doctor had assured him nothing would have alerted them to the problem.

“Oh fuck, don’t give me that. You still think it’s your fault. You’ve got to let it go, sweetie.”

What started out as an awkward joke, Terry calling Donna sweetie, became an endearment between the two. Childhood friends, they had been through almost everything. And their relationship had carried over into their partnership and grew even stronger from Jeannie’s death. Terry Manahan was the best brother-in-law anyone could ever have, and he helped his partner get through the death of his wife and son; Terry’s sister and nephew. Even now, Terry would be hard pressed to explain where he got the strength for both of them; maybe his new found faith had somehow reached back into the past to rescue Don and him, who could say?

“I’m telling you….she was my sister as well as your wife…you haven’t cornered the market on grief, and you’re stupid to keep kicking yourself over her death…It wasn’t your fucking fault!” Manahan was the only person on earth who could have said that to her.

Donna sat in the wingback chair in Dr. Ackerman's office, looking very nervous.

"You seem very anxious today, Donna," Barbara asked.

"Maybe a little too much coffee?" Donna laughed nervously.

"That seems to be almost a ritual," Barbara said.

"The coffee?" Donna asked.

"The excuse...What's really going on?" Barbara asked. Donna shook her head no.

"Nothing," Donna said, but she noticed Barbara's half frown.

"Okay...I know these long days are starting to get to me."

"Who is in control of that, Donna?" Barbara asked.

"Well, the Jefferson case has got everybody at the precinct jumping!" Donna said, shaking her head.

"How high?" Barbara asked with a smile.

"What?" Donna half-smiled, already knowing what Barbara would say next.

"They say jump, you say, 'how high,' right?" Barbara smiled but continued.

"Only you can put limits and boundaries on your work, right?" It was really a rhetorical question.

"I know, but I'm the only victim liaison lately since Kim went on maternity leave." Donna bit her tongue, thinking of the two Jefferson boys.

"Those boys need you, don't they?" Barbara asked, but quickly followed with,

"What if you were laid up in the hospital, what would your department do then?" Barbara asked.

"I suppose they'd call around and get someone from another precinct." Donna said, but continued quickly,

"But I'm the only one the boys really know...how will they fare in their new foster family...what will they do if they have to go to court?" She shook her head once again.

"Yes, I understand that, but what if you weren't available?" Barbara persisted.

"But I'm not! That's just the point. These kids need me," Donna snapped.

"You feel you have to be there, right?" Barbara asked

"Yes...if I don't help these kids, no one can." Donna bit her lip.

"So, graduated to messiah?" Barbara laughed to soften the next question.

"I mean…are you really in control of what happens to them?"

"Of course not," Donna said as she stared at Barbara, wondering where this was going.

"So you're not God after all," Barbara said with a soft laugh.

"No..." Donna squinted, still trying to figure out where Barbara was going.

"Are you now or have you ever been a deity of any kind?" Barbara smiled.

"Of course not, no! What are you getting at?" Donna asked, but her eyes widened almost immediately in comprehension.

"Any more than when Jean died?" Barbara asked as she leaned forward ever so slightly.

"Jeez, Barbara…that's not fair...." Donna said. She bit her tongue as her eyes began to mist.

"Isn't it Donna? We've been through this before." The question was abrupt, but Barbara's tone was supportive, almost motherly.

"I should have been there." Donna said, biting her tongue once again as she looked away.

"Yes, Donna, you should have." Barbara agreed for once, which caused Donna to turn in surprise.

"But you weren't, were you?" Barbara asked, but quickly followed,

"You should have been there to stand helpless as the doctor came out, right?" Barbara asked.

"Stop," Donna said softly, putting her hand out.

"She told Terry that his sister...your wife and his nephew, your son...what did she say Donna?" Barbara asked. It would almost seem cruel if it hadn't been played out several times before.

"I should have been there!" Donna said once again, choking back a sob.

"But you weren't. You should have been there, but instead, your brother-in-law was the one...what did you say to me last time?" Barbara asked, already knowing the answer.

"You should have been the first one to hear the report...but Terry took your place while you were working, right?" Barbara asked.

"That's not the point," Donna snapped.

"Isn't it? Donna...what did they tell Terry?"

"No..." Donna said as she turned away, almost as if she could hide from the truth.

"I'm sorry, Detective Manahan...there was nothing we could do. Isn't that what they said?" Barbara asked.

"No...I should have been there." Donna choked back another sob.

"She stroked out on the table and we couldn't save her..." Barbara said. The emergency "C" section only prolonged their son's life by six minutes.

"No…stop..." Donna sobbed.

"You should have been there to hold your son's lifeless body. You should have been the first one to weep over your wife." Barbara said.

"No... Oh God, no."

"You don't deserve to be happy...isn't that what you told me last week?" Barbara persisted, but her tone was soft.

"Barbara, God...stop." Donna plead.

"Dani might as well find someone else?...Isn't that what you said?" Barbara asked. "You don't deserve to be happy...after all...you let your wife die, didn't you? Isn't that what you told me?" Barbara hated this, but it was absolutely necessary for Donna to face her own misplaced guilt and shame head on.

"Donna," Barbara said softly. "There wasn't anything you could have done, was there?" Barbara asked one last time.

Donna turned and buried her face in the wing of the chair and wept. Her shoulders convulsed as she began to release all of the guilt stored up inside her over the last three years.

Barbara sat quietly and blew out a breath, relieved.

Next: Dream On

Dream a Little Dream
Words by Gus Kahn
Music by Fabian Andre and Wilbur Schwandt
As performed by Michael Buble'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btc1wAk5tlU