Look What You Made Me Do
by Misty
March 2000-Crabapple Farm, Sleepyside on the Hudson
"It's the end of the world as we know it, it's the end of the world as we know it, it's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine."
Helen Belden walked into the kitchen from the chilly outdoors, loaded down with two grocery bags from the car. She let the door slam behind her, too burdened down to stop it. She looked wearily at the back of her daughter's curly head as it bounced back and forth to the rhythm of the music playing loudly from the radio that sat on the kitchen counter.
Not realizing she had an audience, Trixie continued singing in time to the music at the tops of her lungs while she dried the last of the breakfast dishes. "Six o'clock, TV hour, don't get caught in something, something . . . hmm hm Hmm hm hm hm hm."
Helen dropped the bags on the table, walked quickly to the counter and clicked the little radio off, leaving a startled Trixie still humming to the music. "Oh Moms! I didn't hear you come in." She looked at the radio sheepishly before looking back to her mother. "I was just listening to a little music to help pass the time while I finished up my stuff today." She waved towards the nearly empty counter to show she was working on her chores.
Helen smiled wearily at her daughter, remembering how much easier it was to finish chores with a distraction. "I know, dear. I'm just tired and I have a bit of a headache. Now I remember why I don't run errands on the weekends. The grocery store was a zoo today!" She dropped heavily into a chair to rest.
Trixie looked at her mother with concern in her eyes. "Are you okay? Do you want me to do anything for you?" she asked as she started putting the food away.
Helen smiled at her daughter. "No sweetie. I'll be fine. I think I'm going to go upstairs and lie down for a while, though." She pulled herself to her feet and started towards the living room, stopping only to run her hand down Trixie's face and kiss her on the forehead.
Trixie smiled at her mother's gesture and went back to work clearing the table before replying, "ok, Moms."
She continued humming to herself as she finished putting the items in their proper place, breaking into song.
"It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine."
~*~LWYMMD*~*
Brian turned off the shower and grabbed his towel from the rack where it hung. He briskly dried himself off and wrapped it securely around his waist before walking past the lounge area of the gym to his locker.
He turned the combination lock swiftly and opened the door, removing the clothes he was going to wear that day, all the while humming to himself. Turning away from his locker, he was startled to see Jim walk around the corner, his gym bag swung across his shoulder.
Jim stopped short and eyed Brian for a moment before walking slowly to his own locker. He kept a wary eye on the man in front of him, keeping his guard up in case of a surprise attack. He spun the combination lock, being sure to keep an eye on Brian with his peripheral vision.
Brian smirked as he pulled on his socks. Jim is really too paranoid sometimes. He pulled his jeans over his feet and stood up to pull them over his well-muscled legs. He pulled them snug against his lean hips before buttoning them and turning to face Jim, the smirk still in place. "It's not like I'm going to attack you in the locker room, you know."
Jim turned to look at Brian, a sneer forming on his own lips. He looked Brian up and down slowly, sizing him up. "It's not like it would matter if you tried," he retorted. Not that that was entirely true, Jim mused. While Brian wasn't quite as tall as Jim, he was definitely as muscular. In fact, it'd probably be an even fight if it ever came to that, he thought.
Brian extended himself to his full height and clenched his fists at his side, subconsciously preparing himself for battle. "Oh really? That's funny. I'm pretty sure I could kick your ass without breaking a sweat. After what you did to Trixie, I think I could do it pretty easily." He took two menacing steps towards Jim as he spoke, daring him to give him a reason to mop the floor with his red hair.
Jim looked at Brian closely and saw he meant it. He thought briefly about counting to ten, but judging from the distance between the two of them, he didn't have that much time. He instead decided to try rationalizing with Brian.
He ran his hands through his crisp red hair as he spoke. "Brian, this is between me and Trixie. It has nothing to do with you." He spoke firmly, looking directly in Brian's eyes, hoping he was conveying forcefulness and not the exhaustion and frustration he felt.
"Oh, that's where you're wrong. It has everything to do with me when I have to cart my little sister back and forth to doctor's offices. You better believe it's my problem when she makes herself so sick she can't eat or sleep for weeks at a time. You used her, Jim and then you threw her away. I'm not inclined to think kindly of you for that."
Jim put his hands on his hips and cocked his head to the side. "Brian, you don't know what you're talking about. I didn't use her and I didn't throw her away." All the pent up frustrations of the past few weeks finally caught up with him and he threw his arms in the air in exasperation before continuing. "Like you're one to talk anyway. You chase anything in a skirt. Thanks anyway, but I don't think I need a relationship lecture from Casanova." Turning his back on Brian, he focused his attention back to the matter at hand. His workout would be even more welcome with the new frustration and anger he had to vent now.
Brian started to take a step forward, but the voice on the other side of the lockers made him stop abruptly. He stood and listened carefully.
Jim, sensing Brian's sudden stop also stopped what he was doing and listened closely to the conversation taking place a few feet away from him.
"Listen man, I'm telling you I've got it all under control."
Jim and Brian looked at each other, surprise written all over both of their faces. They recognized this angry voice.
"Uh huh. Sure. That's why it's been almost a month and you still haven't gotten anywhere," his friend sneered.
The slamming of a locker door startled both men, but neither of them made a noise as they continued to listen.
"Drew, I've never failed before. I'm not planning to start now. She's just a different type than I'm used to playing." The tone of the voice changed from exasperated to proud. "But I think I've got her figured out. Should be easy from here on out," he stated confidently.
"Easy, Christian? Are you talking about your stupid plan or Trixie?" Drew chuckled.
"Both, dumbass. I'm talking about Trixie and my plan. Very easy," he stated firmly.
Getting angrier by the minute, Jim finally couldn't take any more of their talk. He slammed the locker door and ran around the lockers to the other side. If he'd taken the time to notice his surroundings, he'd have seen that Brian was right behind him, moving with the same intent.
They both hit Christian at mid body, Jim first and Brian a millisecond behind him. Christian went down on his back with Jim landing on top of him and Brian on top of Jim. Jim was so enraged, the weight of his former best friend hitting him from behind didn't even faze him. He immediately started punching Christian who was frantically trying to squirm his way out from under a combined weight of over 300 pounds of angry man.
Drew meanwhile had run out of the locker room yelling about a fight as soon as he saw Jim heading around the corner. When the managers and trainers managed to maneuver their way past the onlookers into the locker room, they were met with the sight of Christian being pummeled by Jim who was punching as fast and furiously as possible while also fighting off Brian who was trying desperately to pull him off Christian in an attempt to inflict his own damage.
Jim, finally growing tired of the nuisance on his back, stopped pounding on Christian long enough to swivel his body around and land a blow on Brian's chin. ''Get off me, you fucker!" he yelled.
Christian, welcoming the distraction, balled his fist and aimed it towards Jim's head. Jim, seeing the punch coming out of the corner of his eye, managed to move just enough that the blow glanced off his shoulder instead and he let out a breathless "shit". It was enough to throw him off balance, and Brian took the opportunity to shove him off Christian who had pulled his fist back quick enough to get in one good hit on Jim's mouth.
Brian, not concerned with Jim's welfare, paid no attention to his former friend's bloody lip and shoved him unceremoniously off Christian. "Get off him, asshole. He's mine," he grunted before he started beating on Christian.
He didn't get far before the fight was broken up. It wasn't until the anger had cleared from their eyes that they noticed the police were present. Chief Molinson strode to the center of the room and looked at the three men closely before bellowing, "What the HELL is going on here?" He looked at each of them in turn, waiting for a response, but none of them replied.
Drew finally stepped forward and cleared his throat. Not sure if he should speak or not, he raised his hand in the air. A few onlookers snickered at this and Molinson rolled his eyes, but motioned to Drew to speak.
"Um, Christian and I were in here talking, getting ready to do some weights. I'm trying to stay in shape for baseball. See, coach said if I did real well I might be captain and it'd look really good to the college recruiters for me to have a leadership position, so I've been working really hard . . ."
Molinson ran his hand over his eyes and blew out the breath he'd been holding in. "The point, Drew. Do you have a point?" he asked, massaging his temples.
"Oh, sorry. Um, we were here talking, like I said, and next thing I knew, those two had tackled Christian." Eager to defend Christian, he stepped forward and kept talking quickly. "It was two against one, he never stood a chance, sir."
Again, the room snickered. Christian glared at Drew, but Drew paid no attention to his friend.
Molinson stopped the laughing before it got out of hand. "Alright. This is what we're going to do. We're going to all drive down to the station and we're going to get this straightened out. How old are you, Christian?" he looked at the young man, who was sporting a bloody lip, two black eyes and a shirt caked with blood that was starting to dry.
"18," he answered darkly, not taking his eyes off Jim.
"Ok, any of you give me anymore grief, there'll be hell to pay." He looked directly at Christian. "That goes for you, too. I don't care if you were just defending yourself here, there won't be any more trouble from any of you, understand?"
Silence filled the room.
"Understand?" Molinson bellowed.
"Yes sir," they all murmured, unconvincingly.
Molinson walked into the interrogation room and looked across the table where Jim and Brian sat. He sat across from them slowly and opened his notebook. Taking his time, he uncapped his pen and sat it in front of him within easy reach before looking at the two men across from him.
"Well, this is what we've got," he started slowly. "Christian has decided to press charges against you both for assault. I'd suggest you both contact lawyers as soon as possible. They'll be able to explain the bail process for you." The door opened behind him and Molinson looked over his shoulder. "What is it?" he asked testily. He didn't like being disturbed and this was a delicate case.
"There's someone here to see you. A young lady. I told her you were busy, but she insisted. Said she wouldn't leave until she saw you." The young man shrugged helplessly. He was still too young and too green to know how to deal with woman, especially the pretty ones.
"Alright, I'll be right there," he said to the door. Turning his attention back to the young men in trouble, he warned, "I'll be right back."
Walking out of the room, he was mildly surprised to see Trixie sitting in the small waiting room kneading her lip between her teeth. She jumped up when she saw him come out of the room and walked over to him.
"Chief Molinson," she started.
He held up a hand to ward off the impending questions and nosiness as he called it. He turned to the desk sergeant and spoke quietly. "Find out who Belden and Frayne's lawyers are and get them down right away. They'll be needed for the bail hearing as soon as one can be arranged."
"Wait!" Trixie shouted. When they both looked at her with barely shielded impatience, she continued in a rush. "Just wait a minute. I need to talk to Christian, please. Is he still here?" she asked.
Molinson looked at the young woman standing in front of him. His gut reaction was to tell her no. That was always his gut reaction where Trixie was concerned. But he saw the pleading in her eyes and he relented. "He's still here," he mumbled before turning and walking down the hallway. He stopped halfway there and looked back at her expectantly. "Well aren't you coming?" he demanded.
She walked quickly to catch up with him and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she could do something to stop this before it got out of hand. She choked back hysterical laughter. Before it GETS out of hand? I think we've already gone past that point, she thought.
Pausing outside the door the Chief gestured to, she took a deep breath before pushing it open. When she saw Christian, she gasped.
Hearing the commotion, Christian turned from where he'd been inspecting his face, looked at her and cursed inwardly. He'd never get with her looking like he did now. What the hell does she want here? he wondered.
"Christian?" she asked tentatively.
"What, I look so bad you can't even recognize me anymore?" he asked bitterly. There was no way he was going to make this easy on her. He didn't know everything, but he knew it was Trixie's brother and ex-boyfriend who'd done this to him and he was reasonably sure he knew why they'd done it. So, as far as he was concerned, that made it partially her fault as well. And if all chances of sex were lost, then he saw no reason to be nice.
"No, not at all. It's really not bad." She had to fight those giggles again. Not because it was funny, but because, well, it was kind of funny in a twisted sort of way.
"What do you want, Trixie?" he asked, wanting nothing more than for her to leave him alone.
"I wanted to talk to you about Jim and Brian." She moved out of the doorway and chose a seat across from him. She slid into it gingerly, not wanting to disturb the delicate balance of the room's mood. Every movement, every word, every breath was measured before made, spoken or taken so as not to tip the scales unfavorably.
"Oh, the guys who're in jail for beating the shit out of me?" he asked, feigning polite conversation.
Trixie squirmed in her chair a little. He wasn't pulling any punches. "Well, yes," she admitted. "They've both been under a lot of strain lately and I was wondering if you would reconsider pressing charges against them. They're both really good people. I don't know what came over them today. They're usually not impulsive like that," she finished lamely.
Christian leaned back in his chair and observed her distastefully. "I don't care what they usually are. They gave me two black eyes and I think I cracked a couple teeth on someone's fist. I want them to pay."
"Please, Christian. Please don't do this to them." She hated the pleading tone to her voice, but she was desperate and didn't care who knew. Truth was, she did feel a little guilty about the circumstances surrounding the whole mess.
Christian looked at her across the table. Maybe this isn't such a bad thing after all. He could certainly use this to his advantage. He straightened up in his seat again and thought for a moment.
The wheels turning in his mind, he spoke slowly, measuring his words. "Well, why should I? What do I get out of the deal if I drop the charges?" he asked. His head was lowered, but he looked up at her from under his eyelashes.
"My undying gratitude?" she asked without much hope.
Christian wasn't amused. "Uh huh. And?" he prompted.
Trixie bit her lip. "A 10% discount at the school store?" she asked, again without much hope.
Christian leaned back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "No thanks. Something else," he demanded.
"What do you want, Christian?" she demanded, sighing in resignation and exasperation.
"I want you," he said simply. Seeing her grimace, he smiled an evil smile. "But you already know that."
She stood up, insulted by what he was insinuating. "Well, I'm not for sale, not even for my good-for-nothing brother and ex," she said firmly. She moved swiftly towards the door without looking back. She knew what her limits were and he'd just crossed it.
Christian panicked momentarily, afraid she'd walk out and he'd get nothing. He stood up himself before speaking again. "Ok, that's fair," he said quickly. Rushing to continue, he pled his case. "But I look like hell and I don't know how long this is going to take to heal. And the prom is coming up." His voice trailed off, not sure what else he could or should say.
One hand on the door, Trixie turned half way around and looked at him blankly. "Yeah . . .?" she asked, urging him to continue.
Christian looked at the table in front of him. He put on his best 'good boy' face before looking back at Trixie. "So, I want you to go with me," he said quietly.
"I'm not going to the prom," she stated firmly.
"Then you have no excuse not to go with me," he wheedled.
"Except that I'm not going," she stated, even more firmly.
Christian's voice and face hardened. "Well, then your brother is spending some quality time with Bubba, isn't he?"
Trixie looked at him, trying to gauge his seriousness. She saw a man who was very serious. There was only one way to help Brian and Jim and this was it. She sighed and gave in. "Alright. But that's it. I'm going to the prom, but I'm not doing anything else. No dinner, no parties, no sex. Do you understand? NO SEX," she said succinctly.
Christian sat back down in his chair and put his hands behind his head. He smiled smugly before answering, "Oh, I understand perfectly. Give Molinson a shout for me and I'll let him know he can release the delinquents."
As Jim and Brian took possession of their things, neither of them said a word. In fact, it had been eerily quiet since Molinson came in and told them the charges had been dropped and that they could go home if they promised to behave themselves.
They'd both agreed and had gone through the motions of paperwork and gathering their things as quickly as possible to put this nightmare behind them both. As they walked out of the station, separately but together, they saw her at the same time.
Her blond curls were pulled back from her neck and she was sitting on the steps to the police station sideways looking both tired and sad. She turned her attention to the duo when she heard their steps. Standing up, she faced them both, her feet spread slightly and her hands on her hips. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes as she started to speak, her voice soft but full of pent up anger.
"I don't know where you both get the idea that I'm helpless or that I need you two to protect me, but I don't. I don't need either of you. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself and, it seems, taking care of the two of you as well."
"Trix . . ." Brian started.
She looked at him, unleashed fury burning in her eyes. "No. Don't say anything. I appreciate what you're doing for me, I really do. But I don't need you to screen my phone calls for me, even if they are from Jim. And I don't need you to defend my honor or protect me."
She turned towards Jim, the tears finally starting to flow down her cheeks. "And you. You don't have the right anymore. I'm not yours to protect and I'm not yours to defend. You're causing more hurt then you're helping right now, Jim. Just stay out of my life!" By this time, she was openly sobbing, the words coming out in broken shouts.
"Both of you, please. Just please stop. Just stop. Don't do this anymore. I just, I can't take it." She pleaded breathlessly. She turned and tried to take a step but swayed. She managed to grab the handrail before falling. Jim and Brian both ran to her to steady her, but she fought them both off, still sobbing and pleading with them to leave her alone.
"Just go. I can take care of myself. Just GO!" She screamed. She sat down hard on the steps and put her head in her hands. "Just go. Please go," she whimpered.
Jim and Brian looked at Trixie and then at each other, the helplessness they both felt reflected in the other's eyes. And they did something neither of them ever though they'd do. Jim went to his apartment, Brian went to the farm and they left Trixie sitting on the steps of the police station, crying alone.
Doctor's Office, later that night
"Doctor? We just got the lab results in. The Belden test was positive. Do you want to call them tonight or wait until tomorrow?"
"Huh?" the distracted doctor looked up confused for a moment. Realizing what his nurse had said, he looked at his watch and shook his head. "It's dinner time already. I'll give them a call tomorrow. Go on and head home. I can close up here."
The nurse smiled gratefully. "Thanks. Goodnight."
The doctor waved goodbye to the nurse and picked up the file with the test results she'd left on his desk. "I just love new babies," he said with a happy sigh.