Title: What if?
Author: Erin aka SisterElwood
Fandom: Touching Evil
Rating: G
Summary: What would have happened if David Creegan hadn’t been shot that day, three years ago? What kind of life would he have had? This is my answer to those questions.
Feedback: Yes, please! :)

The morning fog was just starting to burn off as he approaches the house. He gazes out the windshield of his black sedan at the two-story, modern designed house.
“What an ugly house,” he thinks to himself.
He pulls up into the driveway and gets out. Searching the outside with his eyes, he sees no sign of anyone else being there. This was supposed to be the house of Jack Rupert- a suspected member of the Mob. He had been living in San Francisco for about four years, all the while being under surveillance of an FBI taskforce lead by Hank Enright and David Creegan. Enright had gotten a tip that Rupert might be back at his house, trying to skip town after an attempted murder the night before- a failed hit. Enright had asked Creegan to check it out.
Creegan cautiously heads up the front walk and breaks into the house. He glances around his surroundings, once inside.
“It’s just as ugly inside as it is outside,” Creegan thinks to himself as he searches the lower level.
He starts up the stairs, to check out the second floor, when the panicked ring of his cell phone demands his attention.
“Creegan.”
“Creegan, its Enright. We’ve just had some intelligence come across about Rupert. I want you to get out of there.”
“Why?”
“He’s there.”
Creegan finds his way back to the lower level, “Well, that’s kind of what we were counting on, wasn’t it, Hank?”
“Rupert is a cop-killer. D.C. just sent us some updated info on him and it turns out Reno is looking for him in connection with the murder of a deputy there.”
“Cop-killer or not, he doesn’t seem to be here.”
“All the same, I want you out of there. I’m sending for S.W.A.R.T. to take over the house search.” Creegan heads back out to his car, “What are you afraid of Hank? Are you afraid that I’ll get my head blown off?”
“Some days, I would welcome that David, but not now. We need you on this case, preferably not dead.” Creegan, back on the road now, grins, “Awww, Hank, its nice to be appreciated.”
“Sure. Just get back here, okay?”
“On my way now.”

In a small office located in the San Francisco FBI field office, Enright sits at a desk, reading through a file.
“Interesting reading?”
Enright looks up, with a smile, to see Creegan coming in. Smartly dressed in his usual black suit and tie with his close-cropped hair, David Creegan doesn’t look like a smartass or a jokester but Enright knew better. He had been working with David for the past six years as they were trying to found a new unit within the FBI- the Organized and Serial Crimes unit. So far, Enright and Creegan were the only ones in the unit but they both hoped that that would soon change. They were two of the best in their chosen field and wanted to put together an elite unit that would be dedicated to catching people like Jack Rupert and protecting the public from people like him.
“Glad to see you back David.”
Creegan nods and, then, takes a seat in front of the desk, “What you reading?”
“Our friend Jack Rupert has quite a history.”
“Oh really?”
Enright hands the file to Creegan, “Have a read for yourself.”
“Oooo,” Creegan mockingly coons as he begins to read, “Looks like Rupert likes his ladies young and school girlish. Although with a girl like that warming the tea for him every night, I don’t blame him.”
Enright pulls a face, “That’s not the part you’re supposed to be taking an interest in.”
Creegan tries to act innocent, “Really? Oh.”
“You know, it’s a good thing you keep that mouth of your’s in check.”
“What makes you say that?”
Enright leans across the desk, “Because some of the stuff you say is some of the most… Interesting stuff I’ve ever heard and while I find it amusing, others may find it offensive.”
“You think I don’t know that. You think I’d walk up to Director Morgan and say this stuff? Please, give me some credit for restraint. I do have shame.”
Enright chuckles, “Very little sometimes, though.”
Creegan shrugs, “I do what I can. What more can you ask?”
Before Enright can answer there is a knock at the door to the office.
“Friend or foe?” yells Creegan.
A smart looking red-head enters the room, looking very serious.
Creegan turns to face their visitor, “Eeh? What’s with the grim look, Sally?”
“We had S.W.A.T. go to the Rupert residence like you asked, Agent Enright.”
“And what did they find?” Enright is now standing up.
“They found Jack Rupert in hiding on the second floor with a handgun. He had caught wind that someone from the Bureau was coming to see him and was waiting to get the jump on him,” she tosses something at Creegan, “He was wearing this.”
Creegan picks it out of his lap. It is a black ski mask.
“He was going to kill you, Creegan.”
Creegan is taken aback and stares at her in disbelief.
“So much for the Mob frowning upon the killing of police officers,” mumbles Enright.

In the front yard of a house in the suburbs of San Francisco, two young girls play with a puppy, while their mother looks on from the front steps. The mother sees a black sedan making it’s way toward their driveway. She smiles.
“Lily, Samantha!”
The two girls look up and the older one replies, “What?”
Their mother just points as the car pulls into the driveway.
“Daddy!”
They take off in a blur of giggles, screams, and puppy yapping. They pounce on their father before he can even get out of the car- he’s home early! As they fight to find room to hug their father, they are surprised when he doesn’t start acting goofy and picking them up and swinging around, like he usually does. He just holds them close and tries to keep the tears from coming. His wife notices his odd behavior and comes over.
“David?”
Lily and Samantha let go of their father and just stare at him.
“What’s the matter, Daddy?”
David swallows hard, “Holly?”
His wife turns to the children, “Go inside and clean up the living room.”
“Aww, Mom.”
“Now.”
The two walk off, dejectedly. Holly waits for David to explain what’s going on. He still sits in his car, having only swung out his legs before his children attacked. The puppy puts his front paws up on David’s legs. He scratches it’s head, absent-mindedly.
“David, what’s wrong?”
He gazes up at his beautiful wife. A pause then, “I should be dead right now.”

Three years later.
David Creegan sits at his impressive desk in his impressive office at the newly built OSC headquarters. He gathers up some files, and then, heads down to the morning briefing. He enters the room to a series of waves from fellow OSC members. He takes a seat next to Enright. Around the table he sees the rest of the high ranking members of the unit- Jay Swopes, Charles Bernal, Krakaur, Susan Branca, and their unit psychologist. Today they were starting on a case consisting of three kidnappings. Enright whispers something to Creegan. Creegan nods and stands up.
“Hello everyone, I hope you had a restful night sleep tonight because you won’t be getting one tonight. We’ve had another kidnapping. The latest victim is one Eric…”