Carlton Lassiter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
detectivedipstick) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
beyondtherift2012-05-24 11:45 am
detectivedipstick) wrote in beyondtherift2012-05-24 11:45 am
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The last 36 hours had not been kind to Carlton Lassiter. Excluding the fact that the Head Detective had done one hell of a heroic act rescuing his partner from what could have been a very tragic end, he had been working around the clock trying to capture the sick bastard that Yin was to ensure that the civilians he swore to serve and protect would remain safe, and not a victim of another nefarious game in which their lives hung in the balance.
He really shouldn't be surprised nor angry at the fact that Yin had disappeared without a trace, but angry was exactly what Carlton was. Angry at Yin, and angry at himself. That bastard had made his last game personal by kidnapping his partner, shaking her up so much that all he could do was hold her and assure her things would be okay as she broke down into his arms. As much as he vowed to have his partner's back, that was one moment he didn't care to repeat anytime in the near future.
He almost hadn't made it to O'Hara in time. If it hadn't been for Guster's quick thinking to hold back the clock hand while he went to find a way to stop the damn thing from functioning, he would be recalling an entirely different story.
And that made him hate himself even more.
Slowly, he made his way down the hallway to his bedroom, loosening the tie around his neck and leaving the long forgotten blazer draped across the back of the couch. Carlton had been so wound up lately thanks to the case that a shower was definitely what was in order to relieve the tension in his back. But as luck would have it - instead of meeting the bland interior of his bedroom when he stepped through the door, Carlton found himself standing in a vast municipal park.
"What the hell..." Carlton took in the sights around him, trying to find something familiar and discovering nothing of the sort. Even the house he knew he was in not even five minutes prior was nowhere to be found. There was no plausible explanation as to what the heck had happened that he could come up with either.
Well, maybe there were a couple:
1. The Head Detective could have just found himself kidnapped, which while unlikely, would be far too close for comfort given the last case.
or
2. He really needed to cut back on the four creams and three sugars he put in his coffee, because this couldn't be nothing more than a figment of his imagination.
In either case, the Detective was glad he hadn't removed his shoulder holster and had replaced his Glock as soon as he was able to, so at least if he found himself in a dangerous situation he had something to protect him.
Now the only question begging to be asked, Where exactly the hell was he?
He really shouldn't be surprised nor angry at the fact that Yin had disappeared without a trace, but angry was exactly what Carlton was. Angry at Yin, and angry at himself. That bastard had made his last game personal by kidnapping his partner, shaking her up so much that all he could do was hold her and assure her things would be okay as she broke down into his arms. As much as he vowed to have his partner's back, that was one moment he didn't care to repeat anytime in the near future.
He almost hadn't made it to O'Hara in time. If it hadn't been for Guster's quick thinking to hold back the clock hand while he went to find a way to stop the damn thing from functioning, he would be recalling an entirely different story.
And that made him hate himself even more.
Slowly, he made his way down the hallway to his bedroom, loosening the tie around his neck and leaving the long forgotten blazer draped across the back of the couch. Carlton had been so wound up lately thanks to the case that a shower was definitely what was in order to relieve the tension in his back. But as luck would have it - instead of meeting the bland interior of his bedroom when he stepped through the door, Carlton found himself standing in a vast municipal park.
"What the hell..." Carlton took in the sights around him, trying to find something familiar and discovering nothing of the sort. Even the house he knew he was in not even five minutes prior was nowhere to be found. There was no plausible explanation as to what the heck had happened that he could come up with either.
Well, maybe there were a couple:
1. The Head Detective could have just found himself kidnapped, which while unlikely, would be far too close for comfort given the last case.
or
2. He really needed to cut back on the four creams and three sugars he put in his coffee, because this couldn't be nothing more than a figment of his imagination.
In either case, the Detective was glad he hadn't removed his shoulder holster and had replaced his Glock as soon as he was able to, so at least if he found himself in a dangerous situation he had something to protect him.
Now the only question begging to be asked, Where exactly the hell was he?
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On a whim, she returns to the scene of her own appearance this very day. She's not exactly sure what she's hoping to discover or figure out by it, if anything, but it beats sitting around feeling restless.
Whatever she might have been expecting to find in the park, it's certainly not the all too familiar form of her partner.
Juliet stops short in astonishment, blinking in disbelief. She can tell it's Lassiter, even from the distance. She spends better parts of her days in his company, after all, and recognizes his lanky build with ease. The shoulder holster is a pretty good indicator, too. First her, and now Lassiter? It seems a bit too convenient, but Juliet disregards the thought for now.
"Oh, boy," she mutters to herself, cringing at the thought of explaining this to her partner. Yep, this would go so well. Drawing in a deep breath, Juliet picks up her feet and makes her way toward Lassiter.
"...Carlton?" she calls out tentatively as she draws nearer, slow and cautious. Rule of a thumb was not to startle at-times-trigger-happy guys with guns.
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And that person was standing in front of him.
"O'Hara..." He responded after a few moments. The last time he had seen the young detective was nearly two days ago, when he was trying to convince her it was okay to not be strong after what had happened which in turn had her breaking down in the comfort of his arms. Granted, he had driven by her house a couple times since then, and had almost contemplated to suggest to Chief Vick to place a uniform or two on guard to make certain she remained safe.
However, that didn't explain how he ended up in this park, nor how O'Hara ended up here, for that matter. He glances around again, before looking at her with a puzzled look.
"W..What are you doing here? I thought you were staying home."
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But at least it seems like they've been taken from about the same time, judging by Lassiter's question. She can't figure out another reason as to why he'd remark on her staying at home, otherwise.
"Yes, I, uh... I was," she says, clearing her throat a little. "But that was a few days ago. Listen, Carlton, I have something to tell you and it's going to sound absolutely crazy, but... just try to go with it, okay?"
The sentence tapers off on a hopeful note, even though Juliet isn't exactly convinced her partner will just roll with what she is going to say. And she doesn't blame him in the least for it. Deciding to just get it over with, she goes on with the explanation.
"We aren't in Santa Barbara anymore. We're in Chicago, but not the Chicago we know. You've fallen through a rift in time and space and ended up here. The same thing happened to me six days ago."
Yeah, that sounded completely sane and normal.
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But first, he was going to analyze the explanation he received in an attempt to make it sound believable to his ears.
Carlton wasn't in Santa Barbara anymore, but in Chicago. Illinois. A full 2,000 some-odd miles away from California for that matter. Not only that, he wasn't in the Chicago he knew of...whatever that meant, and he had arrived here by falling through a rift in time and space - which happened to be right in the doorframe of his bedroom, and the same thing had happened to O'Hara not even a week prior to this.
Right. He walked into his bedroom and ended up in Chicago, nothing out of the ordinary there!
"O'Hara," Carlton paused for a moment, trying to find the proper words to say. The poor woman had been through enough already, as it were. "Don't be ridiculous. One doesn't walk through their bedroom door and find themselves in a park because they fell through some sort of rift."
He then looked her straight in the eye. "I know the Yin case was...tough, but you don't need to make up some harebrained nonsense to prove to us that you're fine. You know the Chief will give you all the time you need to recover from this, no need to jump back on the saddle right away."
Stating the explanation was nothing than nonsense brought Carlton to another conclusion. There was only one person he knew who relied on nonsense to get him through life, and he was pretty sure he was behind all this.
"Did Spencer put you up to this?" Carlton stated while looking around the park again. "Because something as insane as what you said could only be sensible to the likes of him."
It was a stretch at best, but the psychic did tend to rattle off crazy theories at any moment's notice, and he wouldn't put it past the man to drag O'Hara into the mess. If Spencer had done this without a care in the world as to her recovering from a traumatic event, well...Carlton couldn't promise to remain civilized.
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Despite her best efforts, Juliet's tone is a touch too sharp when she grits out, "I am fine, Lassiter. Okay? This isn't about Yin."
If the defensiveness isn't enough to draw attention to the fact that she's in fact not fine quite yet, the way she unconsciously switches back to his lastname is. Usually, that's reserved for more professional situations, ones that require the gravitas - the distance - of their occupation rather than friendship. Deflating slightly, Juliet reminds herself of her own confusion six days prior. Now is not the time to pick a fight with a co-worker over her mental state, but to help a friend understand the situation. Sighing, she goes on in calmer, sympathetic tone.
"Look, I know how insane this seems. I thought I was having a stress-induced breakdown when it happened to me. But trust me, this isn't a prank or a hallucination. I was walking out of my bedroom six days ago and all of the sudden, I'm standing in the middle of this same park in my pj's! Believe me, I know exactly how jarring and unbelievable this is."
Pausing to allow the words to sink in, Juliet shrugs her shoulders helplessly. "I don't know how it's possible, but we're officially stuck in an alternate version of Chicago." She pauses a bit uncertainly. "Shawn is here, too. He's been here for almost two years. Don't ask me how, because I have no idea - but I believe him. And no, he had nothing to do with any of this. I know he can pull off some crazy stunts, but this is beyond even his purview, don't you think?"
There's a touch of her old, long-suffering amusement over the animosity between Shawn and Lassiter at that. She has a feeling that some things will never change regardless of universes, already resigning herself for her impending role as the peacekeeper-slash-babysitter.
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That still left the matter of him being in Chicago. While the story she told still seemed rather far-fetched, he was honestly starting to believe it. O'Hara wasn't one to lie to him, in fact - the last lie Carlton had caught her in, was the time she threw a surprise birthday party for him, forcing the detective to move because of exactly who she had invited.
"So...We're stuck." He said finally, scratching the back of his head, having more questions than answers at this rate. "That's great, perfect even! Now, do we have any idea as to why we're in Chicago other than falling through some 'rift'?" He surmised it wasn't a kidnapping if people just unexpectedly showed up, but that didn't mean the detective didn't think something foul was at play.
Carlton supposed it could have been worse. He could not have his gun, or his partner beside him, and he could have been stuck here with a certain psychic pain in his ass.
That's when the other part of O'Hara's story finally registered to him - Spencer was here, has been for the last two years. The look on Carlton's face morphed into one of contempt, and he was very glad he was carrying his sidearm now.
"...and Spencer's here. Great."
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Even if she did feel like lying - which she rarely does, especially not with her friends - Juliet isn't very good at it. She's too open to intentionally deceive people, even if it would ultimately be for a good cause. God knows she was jumpy enough while trying to keep the ill-conceived birthday party of Lassiter's under wraps.
"I don't know why Chicago, precisely. All I know is that it's an alternate version of the city we know - it has the correct sights and everything, but apparently strange things happen here. And the natives aren't fond of us who fall through these rifts. They call us wanderers, and we have no officially acknowledged standing whatsoever here. Illegal immigrants, basically."
Facts are good. She can deal with facts. Juliet feels a twinge of thankfulness for her partner, relieved that Carlton isn't pursuing the Yin angle in this conversation any longer. His remark about Shawn gives Juliet yet more chances to steer away from anything regarding the Yin case, and she levels him with a slightly reproachful look. Lassiter's been on the receiving end of it before, quite a few times in fact.
"You know, Shawn might actually be glad to see you after all this time. Promise me you won't try to discharge your gun at him in response."
She doubts Shawn's happy enough to hug Lassiter like he had done with her - God help him if he does - but she figures it's better to be safe than sorry.
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It was bad enough when Internal Affairs pegged him as a murderer once, he really didn't need both O'Hara and the elder Spencer on his tails for shooting the moron. Not to mention Guster and Chief Vick.
Besides, that is what the shooting range was for.
"I promise to not discharge my pistol into Spencer, O'Hara. Although I can't make any promises that I won't put the idiot in his place since he constantly needs to be reminded of such."
Now, back to the matters at hand. "The whole not having standing here is understandable, considering we apparently went from our universe in Santa Barbara to this one." The more Carlton hears the words come out of his mouth, the more ridiculous he feels for even deciding to believe this. "Now the question is, why aren't the natives fond when it wasn't our decision to come to this craphole in the first place?"
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"Well, the way it was explained to me is that the rifts pull people in from different universes, some of which have things like magic and superpowers. It's human nature to fear and distrust what you don't understand. And, though I haven't seen anything like it myself, apparently," she pauses, not really wanting to say the next words. With a sigh, she goes on, "Apparently sometimes the rifts drop dangerous things in here, such as... monsters. Another reason why the rift people aren't in favor with the natives."
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"Right, and if this the case why don't they...I don't know - do something about the rifts?"
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Great, now Carlton was spewing off crazy theories too. "Look, all I'm saying is that it seems really odd that there are so many of these occur and nothing has been done by the Government or some other federal agency in terms of stopping them."
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"I guess the government wishing to keep things under wraps might make some sense, considering our existence is not even being acknowledged officially, but..." she shakes her head slowly. "It doesn't quite add up, either. I heard the wanderers are often met with suspicion, sometimes even violence. We're clearly not wanted here. Shouldn't the government want to do everything in their power to keep wanderers from showing up in their city, in that case? Which would mean finding a way to stop the rifts? Maybe there just isn't a way."
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One weary glance towards O'Hara reminded him that he had been running on coffee and adrenaline for the last day and a half trying to apprehend Yin. In all sense of the term - Carlton was rather worn out. "I don't suppose that there's a place for these...wanderers, to stay, right?"
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Not that Juliet personally has any experience on how these instances manifest themselves, but so far she hasn't witnessed any obvious signs of hostility. Some long glances and a strange feeling of wariness here and there, sure, but nothing else. At the question about a place to stay, she gives him an understanding smile.
"There are places here that are openly wanderer-friendly. The Kashtta Tower is where most of us are staying, it offers free housing, clothing, whatever you need. I'll show you, it's not far," she says, adding sympathetically, "You're probably tired."
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Carlton's job as a detective wasn't done - or rather he wouldn't stop working on a case - until Yin was found and served the justice he so greatly deserved. With every wasted minute finding Yin became more slim and the case became colder. Not to mention, he owed it to O'Hara, to the people of Santa Barbara, to catch the bastard at all costs. "How he managed to disappear without a trace is what's bothering me the most."
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Truthfully, Juliet has little faith in the fact that Yin would be caught anytime soon. She doesn't doubt Carlton's skill as a detective, but Yin was like a ghost. He wouldn't be found if he didn't want to be found. The thought made her uncomfortable, to know he was still out there somewhere. Though most of her nightmares were about falling, some involved Yin returning for a take two.
What kept these Rifts from bringing him into Chicago? The sudden idea makes a cold shiver claw down her spine. But she couldn't think about that now. She wouldn't. Which is why she doesn't touch anything Carlton just said regarding Yin, concentrating instead on getting him to Kashtta. With another small, tired smile, Juliet nods her head in the general direction of the Tower.
"Let's go," she suggests mildly and takes a slow step ahead to start walking. "I can fill you in on everything else I know on the way. It's not much, though."
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Then again, he did tell Chief that she had other units when it came down to saving his partner. She can handle it until they returned. It wasn't like Carlton asked to be here in the first place.
"So, we know that wanderers are often met with suspicion and violence. Are there any natives that we know of that don't view us in this manner?"
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Still, a prick of shame at the answer she'll have to give him is there.
"Not that I've heard of," she says at length, taking a few steps in silence before glancing at him and adding, "But there could well be. In a city this size? Statistically it's a very good possibility."
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"Just exactly how many wanderers are stuck here anyway? I could understand the hostility if there's a good number to make the natives feel threatened, although given the size of the city itself that seems very unlikely. Wonder if said hostility makes a dent in the crime rate."
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Truthfully, it isn't until now that Lassiter is here, asking all these questions, that Juliet realizes just how truly off her game she is. She'd been rather happily ignorant of the fact up until now, having simply gone along with the flow instead of trying to swim against the current. Unease rears its ugly head at all these thoughts niggling at her, but she doggedly shoves it down. One step at a time.
"Difficult to say for sure. From what I've heard, there's about sixty-ish of us living or frequenting the place I'm taking you to now, the Kashtta Tower. I guess you could call it the core group? I'm sure there are others elsewhere in the city, alone or in small groups, keeping a lower profile. It's hard to keep track of the exact numbers as the Rifts take people away as unexpectedly as they pull them in. You can be here one day and then gone the next."
She exhales a tired sigh, feeling a stab of somber sympathy as she thinks about Shawn. "Or you can be stuck here for years."
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"And with the fact the police won't do jack when it comes to wanderers, I suppose we're supposed to fend for ourselves."
Just his luck really. He let the silence wash over the two of them as he found himself deep in thought again. Judging by how O'Hara avoided the discussion about Yin, Carlton knew that she was still trying to deal with it on her own. First Yin, then Chicago. It was like Lady Justice really didn't like giving them a break in the slightest.
The hatred towards himself resurfaced - having let his partner walk into a bar by herself and into a trap without backup, a mistake that almost cost her life. The knowledge of wanderers being essentially personae non gratae to the natives of Chicago reaffirmed the fact that he couldn't afford making that same mistake again.
After a moment, Carlton finally speaks up. "I won't let what happened the other night happen here."
He wasn't one who was good with sympathy, nor words - but he hoped that was enough to let her know he'd protect her should trouble rear it's ugly head, and enough to bring some relief.
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For once, Juliet has no problem with the silence. Usually she doesn't like it much, more comfortable filling the quiet with idle chatter and trying to draw her stoic partner into conversation. It never bothered her that Lassiter tended to answer with one word replies or unintelligible grunts as he tried to appease her with as little effort as possible. But now she's glad for it, since it means no probing questions about Yin or her well-being.
She's taken aback by the gravity of the sudden change of topic, at once uncomfortable and appreciative of the words. Juliet knows it's difficult for Lassiter to express things like these, and a part of her is glad for it. And another part of her feels like she should be able to look after herself; otherwise, how could she be expected to look after anybody else, like was her duty?
"I appreciate it, Carlton," she says at last with a nod, glancing at him with a quick, grateful smile that is nowhere near as bright as her usual smiles. But it's the best she could muster, right now.
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It was a comment that probably didn't need saying, but he said it anyway. Carlton recalled when he first got partnered up with O'Hara, how bitter he was considering how his last partner got transferred; semi-irritated at being partnered up with a rookie detective he'd have to mentor.
But, in four years she had proven herself to him. Not only in that she was competent at her job, but in handling him. Carlton wouldn't admit that being around her brought out the best in him, per se - but he knew that he wouldn't trade partners for the world.
As they reached Kashtta Tower, he took in the building with a raised eyebrow. "...an office building?" Certainly something he wasn't expecting, although in this city he wasn't sure what to expect.
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She just needed a bit more time. That's all.
"Yeah, it's a bit weird, but it's not that bad. It's actually pretty cozy, believe it or not. From what I recall, it was set up by a wanderer organization called Torchwood - but don't ask me what they do, I'm not sure. Anyway, they opened it up for all the wanderers who haven't got accommodations of their own," she explains as they near the entrance. "Rooms, clothing, food, they have it all."
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"I'll have to thank them later. In the meantime-" He opens the door and lets her cross the threshold first. "I should probably scope out this place out, get a general idea of what we've happened upon."
Dangerous? Probably, but Carlton can handle himself.
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"Um, okay," she started at length, not quite sure of this plan of his. "Well, the people inside Kashtta are more than likely other Wanderers, or people friendly to them."
Is she slightly concerned that he'll for whatever reason pull out his gun at some unsuspecting person similarly stuck in Chicago as they are? Possibly, yes.
"If you're looking to check out things outside of the Tower..." she paused, knowing that she couldn't exactly stop him if he was set on doing that. "You'll have to be extra careful, Carlton. This place is strange and things happen here that we've never seen or heard of. It can be dangerous."
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Chalking it up to simply being overly tired (instead of some freaky Rift ability), Juliet shrugs her shoulders and sighs in a decidedly long-suffering manner.
"Sorry for being concerned for a friend. It won't happen again," she replies wearily with a touch of sarcasm.
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Right now, he was damn near confused at the sarcastic bite to her reply, especially since all he did was essentially reassure her that he's nothing more than careful. He's definitely said worse before.
"I..." Carlton opened his mouth to speak, only to fall short on his words. Whatever just caused O'Hara to react like that, wasn't something he wanted to exacerbate and have the end result being the two detective arguing in the lobby. "Let's just find a room and we'll pick up on figuring this place out after we've both had rest."
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"I'm sorry, Carlton," she pleads, remorseful. "I didn't mean to sound so cranky. I, just... I'm just tired. You're probably right, we should both get some rest."
Not that she's had much luck with that lately. With luck, she'll manage to catch a few hours of fitful but blessedly dreamless sleep before the nightmares begin. After those, she can't fall back asleep (and sometimes doesn't even want to). Nodding towards the stairs and the elevator, Juliet goes on more subduedly.
"You can just pick one of the free rooms on the upper floors."
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Honestly, he'd have been more concerned if she acted like nothing happened in terms of Yin and then ending up in Chicago, so at least a little outburst is better than not feeling anything at all.
He nods at her remark about just choosing a free room, and heads towards the elevator. "O'Hara..." He glances back at her again. "You know if you ever need to talk, I'm here." So is Spencer, actually Shawn might be a better candidate, but he tries.
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Shawn has been riding the high of Juliet being in Chicago for nearly a week. His spirits, honestly, have never been higher. In fact, the only thing that could make this better right now, would be if he were to drive is wiener mobile into the park and find Gus standing there, ready to tell him that rifts in time and space don't exist, Shawn, now put him back where he belonged.
He really hopes that when Gus does, eventually, show, he remembers to bring the blueberry. He loves Irma dearly, but it's really not the kind of car you can chase people in.
Today, however, is not the day for the arrival of Burton Guster, much to Shawn's dismay. In fact, today is the day for the arrival of Carlton Lassiter, and it's that exactly, that has him slamming on Irma's breaks and staring in disbelief through the windshield.
"Lassie?"
Rift, you're doing it wrong. This is not what he wanted.
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However, when the sound of grating metal and the sound of concerned citizens didn't accompany the sound of skidding tires, it left him rather perplexed. Turning around to see what made the sound only intensified said perplexity.
A weiner mobile.
In the park.
Now this was a perfectly normal sight to see.
Deciding that the answers to his questions were more important than figuring out why there was a weiner mobile in the park, Carlton made his way towards the vehicle. He kept his guard up though, his shooting hand ready to pull out his gun without a moment's hesitation if it was necessary.
As he moved closer, the features of the driver became clearer to him, and it was in that moment that Carlton believed - no knew - that Sweet Lady Justice had it against him again. The last person he wanted to see right now just had to be the driver, didn't it? So much for ridding himself of the extra stress...
When he made his way to the driver's side of the vehicle, Carlton peered upwards at Shawn Spencer, the resident pain in his ass for the last four years.
"Spencer..." If there was any indication as to how displeased the detective was to see the resident 'psychic', it would be evident in his crossed arms and glowering look etched on his face. "Why am I not surprised to not only see you in such a ridiculous vehicle, but that my luck is so bad to the point one of the first faces I encounter after finding myself in a park would be yours?"
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After that, he'll unbuckle his seatbelt and make his way around the front so that he's actually seeing Lassiter face to face. "Welcome to Chicago, Lassie."
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That, however, was a story that could be saved for another time. He wanted answers and he wanted them now.
"Spencer, you're well-versed in coming up with insane crackpot theories so perhaps you can answer this: How is it I went from my home in Santa Barbara to ending up in Chicago of all places?"
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Well, he did say he wanted a crackpot theory. This one just happens to be the truth.
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"Right. I walked out into my bedroom, clearly ready to retire for the night after spending countless hours following dead leads, and fell through a rift. Spencer, do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? Rifts in time and space, as much sense as that makes to begin with - Do. Not. Exist."
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The more time wasted here, the less of a chance Carlton would get the results he wanted from the Yin case, and it would be over his dead body before he let the bastard get away.
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