This story has been like flowing out of me lately, I just can't stop it. Don't try to stop it. There's no use. I honestly love reviews, so review please. It lets me know if you like the story, if you think I need to change something, or if you have questions. Thank you and enjoy.
Lance hadn't slept most of the night, he had spent it thinking about Kylie, recognizing the look in her eyes, when she saw her dad was home. Oh god, what if he was like his own father?
He had ignored Booth's call this morning, in a rush to get to the community center at the same time as Kylie. They had done the same thing as yesterday, and then she left, and he hung around, looking over some papers she had left for him with a couple theories.
Jasper had decided to check out this Lance guy for himself, he waited until Kylie had come home, til he ran out to drop off Hudson at baseball practice, and hoped he'd still be there. Luckily, a guy matching his description was sitting by the piano reading out of one of Kylie's notebooks.
Lance watched as an older boy walked in the center and came right for him, he looked the boy up and down, reminding him of Booth a little, and waited for him to speak.
"You Lance?" He asked, his tone unidentified.
"May I help you?" He asked the younger man.
Jasper looked him in the eyes, he seemed okay, but he decided to be straight forward. "Don't try to help her. I have known Kylie for 13 years, she doesn't need you. She doesn't want your help, she has me."
"Is Kylie alright?" Lance stood up, looking worried all of a sudden at this boy's tone.
"You don't know." Jasper stated, realizing how bad Kylie was going to murder him now.
"Know what? Tell me." Lance leaned forward to the boy.
Jasper sat on the bench, nodding his head to Lance, implying he do the same. And he did. After looking around to see if no one could hear them, he cleared his throat.
"Kylie's dad, Charlie. He um, hurts Kylie. And her mother just watches. Sometimes there would be blood, like lots of it. She would stay in my treehouse for days to avoid them. He was easy last night though, only because his focus was on who you were, I don't know why." Jasper shifted at his own words.
"What did you say her dad's name is?" Lance shivered at the same name his own father had.
"Charles Morgan." Jasper's tone rocketed when he said it, anger clearly in his eyes.
"Alright. I have to go back to work." He said almost dragging the words.
"Where do you work?" Jasper said.
Lance looked around and then whispered to the boy. "The FBI."
"Woah, then forget anything I just said." Jasper said, getting up.
"I'm a psychologist. Patient protection." Lance nodded his head.
"But I'm not your patient. Neither is Kylie." He nodded conclusively.
"Yeah, but the FBI don't know that. So if they ask questions, without a case. You two are safe." He said, hating that he couldn't tell some of his closest friends about their problem.
After talking with Jasper, he went to his car, and immediately pulled out his cell phone. And Booth's voice came him a relief, even though he called his cell.
"Sweets, I hear you're coming back. We just got a case too." Booth said, cheerfully.
"Yeah, um I need you to look up a name for me. But don't tell anyone. Please."
"Okay, what's the name?" Booth sounded earnestly concerned.
"Charles Morgan." Sweets hissed.
"Sweets, are you in trouble?" Booth wanted to help the young man in any way he could.
"No, just need the file, see you at work tomorrow?" Sweets swallowed.
"Yeah, stop by the Jeffersonian first though, the body's being sent there first thing tomorrow, so I need you to pick up the personals." Booth stated.
Lance agreed and then hung up the phone, he also didn't get any sleep that night as well. Now he was worrying about Kylie's physical safety, though he knew Jasper would have a loose handle.
The next day, Lance went to the diner, after picking up the evidence, he decided he needed to eat, Angela and Jack were waiting at a table, and smiled at him.
"Hey, I was just at the lab, where were you guys?" Lance laughed.
"We hadn't come in." Angela smiled.
"Yeah, we were actually sleeping, unlike you. When's the last time you hit the hay man?" Jack was concerned for the younger man's well being as he looked like a zombie.
"Monday night. But it's not that big of a deal." Sweets said, as he ordered some fries.
"Sweets, not that big of deal that's almost 72 hours without sleep." Angela protested.
"Look at me, I'm fine." The younger man ignored the couple's concerns.
"You are not fine. You look like you got hit by a bus." Jack snarled.
Then Lance got a call from Booth. "You got the file? Great, send me an email, I have my laptop, I don't want to talk about it, I'm at lunch with Angela and Hodgins."
He hung up the phone and pulled his laptop out of his bag, and then opened it. After the waitress set his plate down, he immediately dove in.
"You know you're probably so hungry due to the lack of sleep." Jack added.
"What's so important that you can't wait til the office?" Angela asked.
"Booth is sending me a file." Lance said, mouth stuffed with fries he swallowed.
"On the case?" Jack asked.
"No, something I asked him to do." Lance said, turning back to the screen.
He heard a ding, and opened the email, he read through, Charles Morgan lives with his wife Jane and their 15 year old daughter Kylie. He scrolled further down to look at a driver's license photo of him.
Jack watched as the young man's expression went from determined to complete fear. All of the color was lost in an instance. "Sweets."
Lance felt something in the pit of his stomach, and knew he couldn't hold it in anymore, after starring a complete minute, he shut his laptop and tried to make it settle.
"Sweets. Are you okay?" Angela put her hand on his, and he looked up at her, and she noticed the look of lack of sleep combined with the look like he just saw a ghost.
"Excuse me." Lance took the hand from under Angela's and covered his mouth, as he gripped his stomach, and ran for the bathroom of the diner.
"Sweets." Jack rose, and went to the door of the bathroom.
Lance knelt over the toilet, and let his lunch in the form of various colors spill into it. He felt his own temperature rising, as he tried to hold it back.
But as soon as another wave came through with his granola bar he grabbed before leaving this morning, he knew he was done. He sat back against the wall.
"Mrs. Harpinder." He let out a gasp with the name of his old social worker.
Washing his face and drinking some of it to get rehydrated, he pulled out his cell phone to call her. Walking out of the bathroom, completely ignoring his two very concerned friends, he waited for her to answer as he cleaned up.
"Yes, hello Mrs. Harpinder. It's Lance Sweets, you told me you have a file that my parents kept from me. I'd like to see it." He hung up, and it wasn't until Jack grabbed his arm halfway out the door did he realize they were there.
"Lance, what is wrong?" Jack asked.
Lance turned at the older man, who had never once called him by any other name that his surname. He knew he would not keep all of the squints off of his trail for long, so he sat down across from them.
"Look, guys. You are my friends. And friends don't keep things from each other, but this is different. This time, I need to handle this on my own, because I don't even know what this is." Lance paused, waiting for them to speak.
"Look, Lance, sweetie. We are here for you. Know that. And we are still gonna worry." Angela smiles.
"And so will Booth. The guy won't admit it. But you are like an extra little brother too him." Jack laughed.
"Thanks, I really should be going." Lance said, laughing.
"Hey what file did you need? I could have gotten it for you if you'd asked." Angela smiled at him.
"My parents always said, if I ever truly needed it, I would already know what it says." Lance smiled, walking out of the diner to his car.
I have had a serious case of writer's block towards The Gift of a Family though, like I have where the story goes but not how to get there. Eeek!