batmanschmatman | 013 [video]

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013 [video]

[Dick is wandering around the house, which is a nice, normal looking place. He's particularly focusing on the family photos and any other traces of the people who apparently really live here who happen to look... just like him and some other Barge people. Including apparently Wally. And Tim. Who are both the wrong ages.]

I'm still in the "this could be worse" stage, but not gonna lie, this is pretty freaky. I think I'm a cop. And maybe ten years older.

So, guess we should have a sound off? Who else is totally wigging out a little over this?

... And anyone seen Wally? I think he's [Dear god this is so weird.] my kid.

[Private to Costigan]

You make it off the Barge? You seem to be a popular guest star in some of these pictures. [Meaning it looks like they're both cops. Which is. Fun.]

[ooc: Housemates, neighbors and whoever else are more then welcome to spam. <3]

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Maybe. Or maybe there's no one to be photographed with. [:|]

Fine. [Pause.] ...Fuck.

Maybe I just stole them all. You're in a couple of the recent looking ones.

[Okay, concerned now, not joking, you'd better not be dying. :|] What?

[There's the sound of some shuffling of items around and another pause.]

He's got a bottle. [Costigan shakes it and the distinct note of pills rattling around in plastic can be heard. Despite hell and still being bandaged from their ordeal, he remembered what it was like to be without pain and that was hard to turn down.]

Don't touch anything, I'm getting in the car.

Fuckin' hurry.

[Costigan slams the bottle back down on the counter, then moves into the other room, waiting impatiently.]

[A couple minutes later and Dick's pulling into the unfamiliar driveway, hopping out of the car and entering through the unlocked front door. It takes him all of thirty seconds to find Costigan and immediately gets down to business.]

Where is it?

[Costigan's waiting on the couch, head in his hands until he hears the door. When Dick begins with that question, it immediately agitates the already tense inmate.] "Yeah, I'm fuckin' fantastic. How are you, kid?"

[While he hasn't taken any, a couple minutes is enough to make the undercover reconsider.]

[Dick just scowls and starts the search himself, eventually locating the bottle and a bathroom, and the temptation is quickly flushed down the toilet. He knew he'd probably have to tear the rest of the house apart to figure out if he had anything else stashed away, or just suggest he come back with him to his house to make sure he wasn't going to get back on anything.

He comes back into the room and sits down next to Costigan, looking at him a little apologetically.]

Sorry. How are you doing?

[Costigan stays on the couch while Dick searches, locates, and destroys. He knows his warden is doing him a favor, even if his body is protesting in an aching pain now that wasn't there beforehand. Quitting was a fucking stupid idea so far.]

"I want a gawddamn pill." [He replies with a flippant tone that suggests he's replying to Dick's question rather than demanding anything of his warden.]

Yeah, I know. [His tone was sympathetic, and he was quiet for a moment before changing the subject, trying to get the inmate's mind off of the bottle of pills.]

You find out anything else about cat loving other you?

[The inmate shook his head. As if hearing its cue, a pure white cat strolled into the room and came to nuzzle against Costigan's leg. He brushed it away with his foot but it came immediately back and he glared down at it.] "Except I might be a fahkin' queeh. Look at this thing."

[Dick just laughed and picked up the cat, plopping it down on his lap so he could scratch its ears.] Hey kitty.

[He leaned forward slightly, trying not to disturb the cat, pulling out some of the pictures he'd swiped before leaving the house, handing them over to Costigan.] See, I told you. You're in pictures.

[Dick being a cat person made him lose a few points, but the guy was already far enough ahead that it didn't really matter. Costigan grabbed the photos and began to flip through them. It was weird, seeing all these false memories. He couldn't help but think back to the conversation he had had with Mal about this all being a dream.]

"Who's the kid in this photo at a ball game?" [The inmate held up the photo of the two of them with Wally while still looking at a different one.]

Uh, here, he's my son. Back on the Barge he's my best friend from back home. [Even a couple hours in, that felt weird to say. Of course, it helped that Wally already acted like a kid, but playing house was... weird. Really weird.]

[Costigan nodded and finished flipping through the rest before he tossed them onto the coffee table not far from them. Then the inmate leaned back and closed his eyes.] "Oh yeah, and the guy's not a smoker either."

[Because nicotine withdrawals on top of everything else would be awesome. :| The inmate was realistically considering smoking anyway and just saying he'd picked up the habit. After a pause, he looked over at Dick again.]

"You married here?" [He had heard Mal mention something like that.]

[Dick's brow furrowed in concern at the smoker comment. Nicotine withdrawals were the last thing he needed right now, and it was going to be a disaster if he tried to keep up with the facade.] That sucks.

Yeah. To someone named Olivia. I don't really know her. [Which was probably one of the weirder things about this whole experience, apart from looking kind of older and being the wrong age compared to Tim. He paused for a moment before voicing his next fact and a bonus theory he'd put together from nosing around the house.] I'm a cop. I think you're my partner.

"Think I can get away with smoking anyway? It's a different breed down here, I know that. But I need it." [At least, that was how he felt. And if he felt like he needed it, then right now, he needed it. Because Costigan knew enough to know there were other pills stashed somewhere in this house if they guy was on him and he might get to the point where he was desperate enough to look.]

[The inmate hadn't really looked around a lot before calling Dick in a panic and it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, he had a life he hadn't discovered yet. The thought made him a little nervous. Maybe the lack of pictures meant something else entirely. The undercover quickly dismissed the idea, but dedicated his mind to exploring as soon as Dick had left. To the latter theory, he gave a nod.] "It would make sense, I guess. I found a unifahm--uniform. Fuck, I need to drop the accent."

Edited 2011-01-21 06:19 (UTC)

Probably. That's kinda less of a red flag then suddenly not remembering who you are or where you work or who your wife is. [He shrugged. He paused a beat, thinking it over.] If you think you need it, do it. I'd rather you smoke then find more pills.

[He let out a soft laugh at the accent comment.] Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I should get around to watching some of those home movies I found and see if you're still dropping your 'R's or not. [He paused again before asking his next question, not sure how the inmate would feel about suddenly being a cop again. Not that Costigan had ever really gotten to run around in uniform much before.] You gonna check out the department, you think?

[Costigan laughed. This whole situation was ridiculous and he kind of hated it more than he would admit to the warden. The inmate hadn't been in a normal situation like this in years and being too busy in pain and still withdrawing to enjoy it was just a kick in the pants. All he wanted was to get back to Boston again. He made no further comment about the smokes, though he resolved to go buy some later today.]

"Don't know where this is, but it's not Southie. Can't imagine I'd still have an accent, but you let me know when you check." [He ran his left hand through his hair as he thought about the warden's question. Costigan had spent some time as an officer, sure, but after joining the State Police, he hadn't barely seen the inside of a department in a couple years-- and that was before arriving on the Barge.] "I don't know, guy. What if we get assigned to a case?"

Of course. [Really, after raiding the house and making sure there wasn't anything else Costigan could pop and screw up all their work, he was planning on heading back home and watching everything he could get his hands on. He'd been trained to adapt to new cover identities and situations quickly, but he'd always had a dossier to go off of, or a back up identity if he was dumped into something unexpectedly. He couldn't exactly go around being Robbie Malone, and he didn't know how to be this world's Richard Grayson. He didn't even know if he still went by Dick or not.

He shrugged, internally chuckling at himself at the sudden thrill he'd gotten at the mention of a case. He'd never gone this long without actually doing some good old fashioned crime fighting, and even boring, white bread suburban crimes sounded pretty good for him right now. He missed Gotham.] I don't know. If you're not feeling up to it, you could always call in sick.

[Costigan frowned at that. It sounded like a challenge, like his warden was doubting whether he was too old or too street to handle the job. He'd been a fucking cop too and he could handle whatever the hell it was. The inmate wasn't worried about overdoing it and wrecking his injuries, though he should have been. He was worried about fucking up by not knowing the neighborhood or the people and not being able to respond to a crime fast enough. But Dick's tone of voice persuaded him.]

"You fucking kidding me with that? I'll be there. My shift's at eight, judging by my alarm clock." [He retorted with all the pride of an Irishman. Besides, what was the worst that could-- No, Costigan wasn't even going to finish that thought, because the Admiral could make it happen. Instead, he chose to force a new thought on himself.] "If there's one thing I'm good at, it's fuckin' bein' undercover."

[And now Dick was torn. The responsible, bossy voice - which sounded a little like Bruce, come to think of it - was telling him to try and figure out a way to convince the inmate to stay home and take care of himself. He knew he couldn't order him to do it, and if he went behind his back and told the captain for him, Costigan would be pissed, but there was probably something he could do to make it work. He was hurt and still recovering, and the last thing he needed was to get shot on the job.

... On the other hand, the other part of him selfishly kind of wanted the Bostonian to come along. Dick liked working with a partner, and Costigan was someone he knew he could trust and rely on if the need arose. In an unfamiliar setting, that was invaluable. Plus, if he was down at the station with him or if they were stuck in a squad car together, he could keep an eye on him and make sure he wasn't trying to score some more, potentially harder drugs or overdoing it with his injuries.

So, after the second or two it took to process the argument, he chuckled softly at the inmate's slight overreaction to what he'd said.] Relax Costigan, I know you're good at what you - we? Do. If you feel up to it, awesome. But you've been through a lot recently. I just don't want you pushing yourself too hard.

[Which was all kinds of hypocritical, but he meant it, his tone sincere without being bossy or seeming like he was trying to tell him what to do. He was just honestly concerned for the other man's well being. And really, either way, Dick would be keeping an eye on him, so all and all, it wasn't... catastrophic if Costigan insisted and went to work tomorrow. Hopefully. Who knew with this kind of thing.]

[In the inmate's mind, it was nearly the opposite. While he figured that his warden would be keeping tabs on him regardless of what he chose, he was confident that being on the job and having something to strive for would distract him from exactly what he was missing if he stayed home instead. Even without the pills, it sure as hell wouldn't take him too long to round up some drugs on the street. The guy knew who to talk to and what to say. Even if he was a cop here, he had enough experience at acting like a criminal to convince people he was dirty.

The injuries weighed on his mind like a tough decision, but they were the kind he could ignore with a little practice. If Dick took lead on anything they might have to investigate, he could certainly cover and it was less likely any of his wounds would be provoked that way.

There came an uncomfortable thought to his mind as he considered the idea of working as an officer again. It was something he wasn't certain that his warden had even considered already, something he hadn't thought about. Every other cop he knew so far was a warden and he was, to his knowledge, the only inmate to be considered law enforcement at present.] "You going to trust me with a gun?"

[The question sort of caught the warden off guard. He'd almost forgotten about that whole part of the job. He didn't like using guns - he was, after all raised by a guy who was pretty firmly against them - and even while he'd been a cop, he'd tried to avoid drawing his weapon unless he absolutely had to. So, he hadn't immediately thought this was going to be a bad idea, putting the inmate within reach of a weapon that was a little more dangerous then a knife.

But he didn't really see the issue with it. Costigan was an inmate, yeah, but he wasn't a homicidal maniac. It wasn't like he was going to go shoot up a school bus. He wasn't the Joker, or even someone like Deathstroke or Sylar where you couldn't really tell when they were just going to do something crazy like attack you in the dining hall or drop a living nuclear warhead on a city. And, let's be serious for a moment, if he tried anything, especially in his current state, Dick would be able to take him out in all of five seconds.

He shrugged.] Yeah. I mean, it'd be kinda weird if you didn't have one one you, and I'm not letting you head out into any - god forbid - crisis situations unarmed. [He shrugged again, summarizing with a simple and honest statement.] I trust you.

[Costigan nodded distractedly in response to the first idea, figuring it would be a legitimate explanation like that. To the latter, he actually stopped and looked up at his warden to stare him in the eye for a moment. The inmate was used to being trusted, sure, before he had come, but not so much by a warden. Max hadn't trusted him. Aziraphale kinda had, but Eddie sure as hell didn't. It was a little jarring that Dick trusted him already. Even with the understanding that they had been through a lot together, he couldn't help but be suspicious, wondering if it was part of some grand scheme.

After a beat, he nodded again, glancing down to the pictures again. Dick was right about them being partners from the looks of it and, if he called in sick, the man would probably get assigned to someone at random. Even if it was a man from the Barge, it seemed unlikely that they would do as much for or as well with his warden as the inmate knew he would.] "Yeah, alright. Yes. I'll be there."

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Spam - Sorry for lack of port icons. I've been kinda lazy/busy. >>;

Spam - Jerk >:[ ... <3

Spam - It's because I secretly hate you. That's why I talk to you every day.

Spam - I knew it. >:|a

Spam - I did LOOK at my icon stash, but there was nothing and too lazy to get more.

Spam - I just uploaded cop pictures because I've been meaning to >>

Spam - Cool. :]

Spam - Dick liked being a cop ok ;;

Spam - A LIKELY STORY.

Spam - IT'S TRUE and then he got fired and he had a sad. :c

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Spam - I get tl;dry when I'm tired apparently

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