It was only a few days after he had gotten himself shot when Jack was reluctantly cleared from the hospital, hopped up on those wonderful pain killers and other various medication (not that they helped much. He looked like shit and he felt like shit). Of course he was anything but free as he found himself limping on his good leg down the MPD building's halls with the help of two officers. They could have at least given him one fucking crutch or something to make walking easier, but no.. a crutch could be a possible weapon, and he was considered dangerous. Not only had he resisted arrest, he had pulled the trigger on a cop, his own brother. And to make the experience even better, he had done this right in front of the police station of all places. Stupid asshole.. He'd be lucky if he'd get the life sentence only once.

"In here." One of the officers grumbled while the second one unlocked the door. Jack was more than familiar with rooms like this. Just a table and two chairs in the middle, nothing on any of the grey walls expect the one that held the two way mirror. The fucking interrogation room. But what was there to interrogate? There had been plenty of witnesses on the scene. He was guilty as sin just for the shooting alone, and nothing would change shit no matter what came out of his own mouth now.

He was lead inside, and he suppressed a pained groan when he was then pushed down by his shot up shoulder to sit on one of the empty chairs. The fucking dick must have known of the injury as he watched the cop grin at him while he was being cuffed to the arm rest. To them he was nothing more but scum, a (attempted) cop killer. And if so, he could give them one... "It's a shame I didn't aim better. As I always say 'one dead cop is worth two in the bush'. Can't have everything, right?" Now it was his turn to smile at the cop, knowing damn well he was talking about his own brother.

His abuse of the proverb seemed to set the cop off completely. The man stepped closer to him, lowered down to his level and placed his hand on his shoulder once more. "That big mouth of yours ain't gonna do you no good when you're serving life, kid." The cop growled as he squeezed harder and harder on to the wound. Jack gritted his teeth when he could practically feel some of the stitches tear open under the pressure.

The small red stain that appeared in the fabric under the man's finger seemed to satisfy the cop, and he let go. "Good luck in jail. You're gonna need it, asshole." The cop sneered before both officers left the room, leaving him alone to wait for the mook who was assigned to interrogate him.

25 minutes he made Jack sit and wait until he came into the interrogation room with a cup of coffee in his hand.
Officer Warren had one speciality: Interrogations. Making people talk, mind games, bribing, getting them to do whatever he needed them to do.
The whole department had stopped work when Jack O'Conner was brought in. Many of them ready to beat the crap out of him. Not that they thought so hightly of his brother but Brian O'Conner was one of them. A cop. Under oath. A partner. They all had each others backs against scum like this...a cop killer.
That why seeing Warren gave them some satisfaction.

Without a lot of small talk he stood right in front of the young man and growled. "Give me the name of the buyer and you'll safe yourself a lot of trouble."
Nothing else. Straight to the point.

For what seemed like hours, Jack was kept waiting. Every now and again his hand moved towards his bad leg whenever it threatened to go numb. The blood circulation is his leg was still shit. He was told it would take some time to heal. 'Just let the leg rest and before you know it, you'll be as good as new' was what the doc had said. Yet in his situation he couldn't bring up the same optimistic feeling.

Once more he kneaded his fingers in to his upper thigh, careful not to upset the slowly healing flesh anymore than he already had by having to walk, or rather limp here. His eyes moved up when the door finally opened, and an officer he guessed was the interrogator walked in. Show time.

His hand moved from his leg as he only snorted in response to the cop's demand for a name. He had told them a thousand times that he didn't know, and he wasn't going to tell them again. Aside from that, even if he did have a name to bargain with, any kind of deal was most likely out of the question now that he had shot his brother. No, he was going take up his right to remain silent.

So O'Conner wasn't going to talk right away.
He walked around him, stepped a little closer and said in a matter of factly way. "Listen, kid. You shot a cop. So you probably know you won't be walking away. There will be no deal, not for cop-killers, we ain't cuttin no deals."
As a small gesture to get his point across he placed his hand on Jacks shot up shoulder. "So you don't know a name but you have a contact person. You'll keep doing what you're doing but for us. You'll be bugged and wear a microphone."
His fingers squeezed his shoulder enough to put some more pressure on it.
"This is about you being on trial for murder or manslaughter depending on your cooperation. Think about it."
Having said those words he left Jack sitting there.
"Oh, and your lawyer is on the way."

Jack still kept his mouth shut as the cop walked around him. No deals. He already knew that. He held himself from wincing when the man placed his hand on his shot up shoulder. He wouldn't give the cop any satisfaction in to showing any pain, not even when the bastard's fingers started to dig themselves in to the bandaged wound.

He snorted at the man's words. They might as well shoot him here and now if they wanted him to wear a microphone. His arrest hadn't been a quiet one, as he was sure the shooting had been all over the news, and he was even more sure his employer wasn't stupid. They'd know right away he was a situated informant once he was out. But if it was what it took to be put back on the streets, even if it was for only a little while, he'd take the chance.

Then his eyes shot up and his brow furrowed. Murder? Manslaughter? Why would he be on trial for either of those. "Wait! He's dead?!" He blinked only once as he stared at the door closing behind the cop without ever receiving an answer. His chest tightened while shock set in to his eyes. Had he killed his brother? Brian had worn a vest... right? Or had he misjudged that...?

Behind the one sided mirror Brian wore a deep brown. He wasn't a big fan of Jack being fooled like this. Then again what did he care. His brother had pulled the trigger and could have killed him. It had been a chance.

The whole plan was a suggestion of the officer who had been his partner that day and fell on open ears with the department. Nobody like guys who were shooting at one of their own.

"Is he buying it?" The captain asked.
"No idea. I don't know what's going on inside of him anymore." Brian muttered.
"You were down bleeding...he should be buying it."
"Jack works in mysterious ways."

A ray of light fell in the room when Warren entered and waited for instructions.
"Give him a moment to process the information...then tell him what we want."

About 30 minutes later Warren came back into the interrogation room. "Sorry, I had to take a leak. Decided? Want your lawyer?"

Long fucking leak. Jack looked up from the empty table top he'd been staring numbly at for the past 30 minutes when the cop came back in to the room. Had he decided yet? He mentally snorted. Like there was much left to decide. He, apparently, had killed his own fucking brother. Oops..?

He shook his head. "No." He mumbled, clearing his throat when his voice came out a little raspier than he wanted it to be. "I don't want my lawyer." She wouldn't be able to help him on this case. He didn't even want her to, he didn't deserve help. He should just... pay his fucking dues and be done with it.

Jack's reaction, his staring, the raspiness in his voice gave Brian some sort of satisfaction. The question why Jack risked killing him remained though and it was burning in Brians mind. When this job was done he needed to find out.

Inside the interrogation room Warren look down at him crossing his arms. "Good. I don't think we need a lawyer."
He turned the chair in front of him around and sat down. "So what's it going to be? Are you ready to go on the electric chair? Or are you going to wear a microphone and be a good criminal." He snorted at his own half-assed joke.

Jack watched the cop sit down on the chair across from him. His heart rate sped up, and his jaws tightened as he swallowed against his suddenly dry throat. The electric chair... He'd done some pretty shitty things in his life, but he had never pulled the trigger on anyone, let alone his own family. He hadn't even meant to end his brother's life.

He drew his tongue over his lower lip before he finally answered. "I'll wear the wire. I'll get you your name. After that, I don't care what happens to me..." He mumbled as his hand subconsciously moved to his numb thigh. His fingers pressed in to his flesh again while he wondered why the hell the docs had even bothered to safe his life, only for him to be sentenced to death later. This was all bullshit.

"Are we done now?" He suddenly asked. His voice had turned back to cold and emotionless, as had his expression when his eyes met the cop's, though on the inside he was anything but. He still couldn't believe it. Brian was dead, he had killed him, and all he could think about was plant his fist in this bastard's face for toying with him. But as it were, all he could do now was sit there and wait.

Brian turned his back to the mirror glass and ran his hands over his face. It just didn't feel right to let his brother belief he had killed him.
"I don't like this. We can't simply lie to him like this."
His boss glared back at him.
"What? You don't think he deserves it even though he shot you? He could have blown your head off."
With a snort he walked to the door. "Keep him thinking your dead...that's an order."

Warren got up from the chair and pushed a paper towards Jack to sign.
"I'm not sure whether it's good that you're making this choice. I personally would like to see you on the chair. Sign there."

After Jack put his signature on who knows what he grabbed it and left.