coren_icon.gif rebecca_icon2.gif

Scene Title Reflections
Synopsis Bullets and Flashbacks. Rebecca has to come to grips with her ability.
Date March 14, 2009

NYPD Forensics Lab

The night was long for Rebecca Nakano. The headache is long gone thanks to Abby1, but the reminder of that odd thought that flashed in her head during that moment with her lingers still. Where did those officers come from? And why did she think of them? She'd barely been able to concentrate on her work today, though she did get a few things done. She's waiting on something from the Beauchamp case, but otherwise she's fairly caught up. She sits at her computer and types up the last of her report on another pending case before sending it off to the appropriate personnel and shuts off the monitor. She realizes it's late and she hasn't eaten since breakfast, which would probably be the reason her stomach is growling in protest. She stands and walks over to the small fridge and opens it, bending her knees and squatting down.

"I remember the day when we didn't have these labs. Or, well, they certainly weren't this sophisticated back in the late eighties," Detective Shelby says as he enters. "Back then we had to get a confession without evidence. Now that…. that was a real challenge." He carries a hard plastic evidence container, sealed, containing a bloody piece of metal that looks suspciously bullet-like.

The voice startles her and she stands up quickly. Too quickly in fact as she bumps her head on the inside of the midget fridge and her hand moves up to the back of her head, where she starts rubbing frantically. She winces her eyes behind her glasses and turns to see Detective Shelby standing in her lab. Doesn't anyone knock anymore? She walks over and assumes that bloody bullet-like thingie is a bullet. "From Abby Beauchamp?" she asks, reaching her hand out for it. "And I like my fancy lab well enough, thenk you. Probably solve more cases with it, then without it." she says, almost pridefully. "Wow.. was that rude? I'm sorry." Sincerity comes back. "I am running on empty, so my mood is a little sour."

"Sorry for startling you," Coren says hastily as he helps close the gap and hands off the evidence. "No, not at all. At any rate, these days we need more evidence. Going to be murder to get these goons behind bars if we don't have any. We had the medical examiner remove it from her thigh. Got a local from a medic." He takes a cursory glance around, "Where's your log? I know I have to sign that bullet in. Gotta keep track of this case very, very closely."

Rebecca leads him over to the counter where the clipboard sits. She slides it towards him. She runs some liquid into a sink and sets small container down. She rinses out a dish and opens the cap, tipping the bottle and lets the bullet slide gently down and into the larger container with minimal clackage. "Is there any reason you need this DNA?" inferring the blood that is on the bullet and in the bottle. "There's enough in the bag that we can test it if you like, but if you watched them extract it from her leg, that's chain of custody enough for me." She reaches up for a bottle pulling open one of the cupboards to do so.

"I would imagine the DNA would belong to Abigail Beauchamp, whose leg it was extracted from in front of me and I imagine the camera in the conference room. That should indeed by good enough chain of custody. I can go get a copy of the surveillance if it would make you more comfortable," Coren says with a bit of a sarcastic grin before signing the evidence container over. "Once we have a gun to match it to, things will probably go more smoothly. I suppose you might see if there's any DNA other than hers on it, though I'm not entirely sure how that's possible, but mostly we just want to see if there might be a viable print on the bullet, from whoever loaded the gun. If there is and it's in the system, that would definitely help the case. If there is and it's not in the system, still useful, but not as immediate."

"I'll see what I can do for you." Sarcasm detector disabled, apparently. She walks over to what appears to be a medicine cabinet, but much larger. "Going to have to take a different route to find fingerprints, without smudging them while removing her blood." she comments as she turns and faces the mirror.

In the reflection she suddenly sees an old examining table, nothing as fancy as what she has in the lab currently and a man in a lab coat is looking over a corpse. Her body tenses up as she grips the cabinet with both hands, eyes fixated on the image playing in the mirror. She's the only one who sees it and hears it. "Whadda we got here, doc?" Another man comes into the reflection and he's wearing a long trench coat with a hat. They both look down at the body, which from the angle that Becca can see only shows a couple of bullet holes in the side of the chest. "He died from injuries sustained in the shooting. That's for certain. I guess it's what you get these days for cheating on your wife." The cop laughs. "Wasn't his wife. It was the husband of the wife he was screwing." The doctor shakes his head and gives a chuckle. "Bastard." The doctor pulls the sheet up over the man's head and both the cop and the doc walk out of vision of the reflection.

Rebecca stands staring at the mirror for a long moment. This did not quickly flash in her mind. For nearly three minutes she stood in front of the mirror just watching. When the vision ends, her hands fall from the mirror and she drops suddenly to her knees, her hands moving to clutch her head as if in pain. "Oh God.." the familiar words from the night before.

It is rather clear to Detective Shelby that something was up. Rebecca had to be paying rapt attention to something else to not acknowledge his repeated 'Miss Nakano?' He's quick to pull up a chair and place it behind Rebecca so she can sit down once her attention has returned to reality. "Are you alright, Miss Nakano?"

Well, she has a couple of options here. Tell him she's seeing things in the mirror and see if he locks her up nice and tight. Or she could pretend that she just has a headache. Well, she does have a headache. That part will not be pretend. Her hands clutch her head as she finds herself eased into the chair. "Just.. I think I have a migraine coming on. I have some pills in my purse." She got them on her way home last night in case the one from yesterday came back. She rubs at her temple as her curiousity peaks. "Did you hear someone else talking in here?" she asks. She has to know. Even if it makes her sound like a loon.

Coren quirks a brow at Rebecca's question. "You're not telling me everything, and your question makes me think you heard something. I, certainly did not, aside from you just now. So I suppose the question to be asking is, what did you hear?"

There's a hefty bit of hesitation before she admits, hand stills clutching her head and rubbing. "I saw two men. One was a coroner or a tech. I think the other was an officer. And there was a body on a table." She manages that much. "There was some talking about how he died." She starts to get up, but is hit with a dizzy spell and back down she goes back into the chair. "My purse?" she points over to the desk."

Coren remains silent, pondering over Rebecca's words as he retrieves her purse and hands it to her. Only one thing springs to mind, well two technically, but one he dismisses rather quickly. It is a terribly bizarre thing to go hallucinating about. "Have you been tested?"

Rebecca rummages around her purse for some migraine medicine she picked up at the store. She takes two and pops them into her mouth and swallows them. She's not intentionally avoiding answering the question. In fact, this is something that's crossed her mind in the last 24 hours. Her answer is simple. "Yes." The bottle is tucked back into the purse that remains on her lap.

"Would I be correct in my assessment that you tested positive?" It's what makes sense to Coren, and if it makes sense to him, he'll state it for the record.

Rebecca nods. "Yes." Silence.

"I take it that this is a recent development. But not your first, as it appears to present with migraines, and since you have medication, you wouldh ave had to have at least one of these … visions before?" Coren presents a perfectly logical argument, which should be no surprise. He's been a man of keen deductive skill for some time. "I think it's safe to say you should probably make an appointment to register with Homeland Security. They'll probably want to test your ability to accurately classify it."

Rebecca's glasses have fallen down her nose and she lifts her head and pushes them back up on her face. She pushes herself up off the chair and walks over to the sink. She picks up her mug, decorated with cute little puppy dogs, and runs the tap filling it with water. She takes a large swallow before turning around. There's strain in her eyes, evident that the migraine lingers. The rest of the water is dumped out and she places the mug upside down on a towel that sits next to the sink and turns around. She leans back against the counter and looks over at him. "My first was yesterday. When I was talking to Abigail Beauchamp. She did something to make the migraine go away." To the rest of his comment she responds. "I know." She should. She takes her hand, her fingers go under her glasses as she rubs at her eyes. "I wasn't sure at first what it was. I'm still not sure what it is."

"I'm sure she's still here. I came directly from the conference room after the bullet was removed. If it lingers, you might want to see if she hasn't left yet," Coren says, standing still next to Rebecca's chair. "I'm sure they'll come up with a name for it if they don't already have it. Sounds like some form of vision, so it's past, or future, and I'd be inclined to say past, as I'm not aware of any plans to change this lab into a morgue." He takes one step forward, "I know this is unsettling. I've seen some pretty horrific things, but don't be afraid of who you are." He lets out a short laugh. "I'll be honest with you, I was anti-evolved until I tested positive. It only took seventeen hours running, running on a treadmill for them to realize I had superhuman endurance. That and anecdotal evidence of how infrequently and for short durations that I sleep. Right now, I stay up for thirty, forty hours at a stretch and then get three or four hours of sleep. I drank, heavily, when I first realized I was something I had come to detest," his last words are spoken slowly and with a tone of bitterness. "But you know what? You get over it. You do."

Rebecca listens to the story and nods as he makes his points. "Part of me is relieved to know that it's not something that could hurt someone else. I.. I couldn't have handled that." Her hand goes up and pushes her hair back away from her eyes. "I'll go talk to someone. And I'll take a look at this round and see what I can find out for you." It takes several minutes as she first tries to find a print of some sort. She finally looks back and shakes her head at him. "There's no print. They probably handled the casing." She prepares the round for ballistics testing and upon completion, she turns to him. "Okay. Bad news is that there isn't match available yet. However, I've just submitted the results up and if there's another match anywhere, we will be notified. If someone finds that weapon, we can match it." Becca of old seems to be back as she goes back to what she does best.

He nods at her first comments, but then Coren sits back and stays out of Rebecca's way as she does her magic. It's only when she gives him the news that he says anything further. "I was afraid of that," he says with a bit of a sigh. "Oh well. I can only hope the DA has better news. It will have been a complete waste of time if we can't even search for the gun. Thank you, Miss Nakano. And remember. Talk to someone. It helps, even if it's just a bartender." On that note, Detective Shelby turns and exits the lab.

Rebecca watches him leave and finds her chair again, pulling it up to the desk as she sends off the information about the bullet to those who 'need to know' in the department. She turns back, looking at the mirror that held the vision that she saw previously. She finally tears her gaze away, making note to stay away from that mirror if she can possibly help it.

March 14th: The Charming Pizza Pusher
March 14th: Bought and Souled
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