Chapter Four
Strong Enough

Trai pulled her hair back into a bun, scrawling off a note to Jason that she was leaving and grabbing her keys to the apartment. Jason wouldn't be happy that she'd left, but at this rate, she cared more for her brother than her boyfriend.

Even so, she couldn't help but dread the scene that would inevitably occur when she came back to the City.

You can always leave him…

Ever since Jason had started abusing her, she'd debated leaving him over and over, but ultimately ruled against it every time. Jason knew that her family lived in Bay Shore, and she knew that if she left him, he'd very likely come after her. She'd seen all too well the extent of Jason's rage over the last few years. There had been broken bottles, cigarette burns, a baseball bat once or twice. He tried not to hit where anyone could see.

Trai had found that barely anyone noticed, or suspected, save for Danny, Angie, and Micah, Danny's best friend. All of them had asked her about it before, and every time, Trai had denied it. She knew it wasn't a good thing, that eventually she had to tell someone, but fear of what Jason would do kept her silent.

She called Angie, who said she'd last visited Danny the previous morning, after they'd had coffee, and that she was still in Bay Shore with the Buscemi family and Micah, at the hospital. Micah would be coming to get her at the station in Babylon. Trai waited for a few hours, until seven o'clock, and then boarded the train.

All through the train ride, Trai was upset, anxious, unable to sit still. She'd always been close to her brother, and seeing him so sick, so weak, killed her. This was Danny Buscemi, star quarterback, who'd always been there to protect her. She loved Danny so much, and seeing him dying hurt her badly.

She got off at the station, going out into the rainy parking lot and finding Micah Sellers' old VW Bug idling. Trai slid into the passenger seat, and Micah looked up from his sketchbook.

"Hey," he said quietly, brushing her damp hair from her face. Micah and Trai were also close—since Micah was Danny's best friend, they'd grown up like brother and sister.

"Hey," Trai replied, just as quietly. "How's he doing?"

"All right. The doctors think he can hold out at least until the New Year."

Trai closed her eyes, leaning back against the seat. "I can't watch him die," she whispered.

Micah squeezed her shoulder. "I know, honey," he said softly. "I just… I remember what he was like in high school and now all that… all that's changed."

"It was the smack," Trai said, a tinge of anger in her voice—anger at the drug, or at her brother, it was impossible to tell. "He shouldn't have… why did he…?"

"I don't know," Micah said quietly. "I wish I did."

"Me too," Trai sighed.

They ate an early breakfast at a diner in Babylon, though Trai was barely able to stomach much more than a few bites. The thought of the hospital made her nervous. They freaked her out in general, and they asked too many questions.

She could tell that Micah wanted to ask her about the bruise, if Angie or Danny hadn't told him about it already.

Micah glanced over at Trai. "At least try to eat something?"

"Not that hungry," Trai said quietly, twirling her fork absently.

Micah put his hand on hers, and she looked up. "What's going on, Trai?"

"Nothing," Trai whispered, though her voice shook. "I—I'm just nervous. About Danny…"

He bit his lip. "How's Jason?"

Had his hand not still been on hers, he wouldn't have caught her momentary flinch. "He's fine. He, um, he told me he wants to propose."

That fuck… just wants her for a fucking punching bag…

"Sweetie…" Micah took a breath and held her gaze. "We… we have a bit before Danny wakes up… c'mon. I want to take you somewhere."

"Where are we going?" Trai asked as she stood and shrugged on her coat.

"You'll see."

Micah drove them out to the nearby Argyle Park and stopped the car. Trai had to smile, just a bit, at the sight of the pond. "We used to feed the ducks," she said softly.

Micah smiled. "I knew you'd remember."

Micah had been a friend to the Buscemi family since he and Danny were six and Trai was five. As a result, he knew Trai well, almost as well as Angie. As teenagers, they'd kissed a few times, egged on by Danny and a few mutual friends, but it had been too weird for them, and so they stayed like brother and sister and nothing more. The Buscemis considered Micah family.

Trai sighed and leaned her elbows on the window, looking out at the frozen pond. "I just wish sometimes that we could go back," she said quietly. "I mean… I wonder… I wonder, if I had that choice, would I take it? Would Danny?… Because I wonder if he'd—if he'd c-change that he… that he got addicted…"

Her voice was breaking, and tears were streaming down her face. Micah reached out and took her hand. She gave him a weak smile, but the pain was clear in her expression.

"I don't want to lose him," she whispered.

"None of us do, honey… none of us do."

"It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenburgs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York." Trai paused and reread the line to herself before saying, dryly, "Funny. I get that feeling all the time."

Danny laughed, though he was wheezing a little, and grinned at his little sister. Still, by the way she smiled, the way she clutched her tattered copy of The Bell Jar like a lifeline, he knew she was upset.

Trai swallowed hard. The antisepticky smell of the hospital made her feel nauseous, as did her older brother's present condition.

It was later that day. Micah had driven her to the hospital. Danny had still been asleep, but he'd woken to Trai stroking his hair, trying to fight back tears.

He wanted to tell her so much. He was so tempted to tell her about him and Angie, but decided against it.

"Sweetie, you don't have to be here," he whispered. "I know hospitals freak you out."

"They do, but I want to be here. I love you, Dan," she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes.

Danny couldn't stand seeing his sister cry. "Hey, hey," he said softly, squeezing her shoulder. "None of that. Shh…" He rubbed her shoulder and tried gently, "You remember when I beat up Kyle Grange?"

Trai drew in a shaky breath and laughed weakly, nodding. "I was a sophomore," she managed.

Danny nodded. "Yep. I was playing on the football team." He'd been a junior in high school himself. "He'd asked you to the junior prom."

"Can't see why," Trai laughed, and it wasn't as forced. "I was the class geek, and a year younger."

"Hey. You were cute, and I'm not just saying that because you're family. I remember… Mom and Dad wanted me home for dinner, so I decided to cut through the back parking lot… things went to hell when I found Kyle in one of the cars with another girl's bra in his hands—though if it had been yours, the scene wouldn't have been pretty, either," he ribbed her lightly.

"You dragged him home with a bloody nose. Made him apologize."

"Damn right I did."

"I think the reason he broke up with me was that he was scared of you," Trai said with a watery smile.

"Well, I am a pretty scary guy."

There was silence between them before Trai whispered, "Dan, can I ask you something?"

Danny nodded. "Sure."

Trai took a slow breath and said quietly, "Why'd you do it? The smack?"

Danny looked away. "Trai… you really… you don't want to hear this…"

"Yes. Yes, I do. I want to hear it because I want to know…" Trai had to break off for a second before she finished, "I want to know why my big brother… my big brother, who I always loved… a-and looked up to… I want to know why it is that you're lying here in front of me, dying," she whispered.

Danny looked away, taking Trai's hands in his, very gently. "It was hard," he said quietly. "Harvard was really, really hard. You know me—I was never the greatest at school, but I loved football, and I was good at it, and Mom and Dad always wanted me to be a lawyer."

"Why didn't you say no?" Trai whispered. "Dan, if you didn't want to be a lawyer… you could've turned down the scholarship…"

"I didn't want to," Danny said quietly. "Being a lawyer… Trai, I never really had any idea what I wanted to do, and law school sounded appealing, like it was something I'd be good at. And when they offered me the chance to play football, I took it, because it was what I loved to do.

"You went to Dartmouth. You know the kinds of pressures they put on you—all the tests, the papers, everything. I was expected to be good, Trai. They had a lot of expectations for me, and I couldn't meet all of them. Balancing a sport and a major like I was really started to get to me.

"My friend Jimmy… he was on the team with me. Had the same problems I had, or thought I had. And he had a friend who was a dealer. The guy hooked him up, and he told me… he told me what it was like. That with the heroin, he could keep up with everything. I wasn't doing so great at that point—it was either the team or my grades, and to get where I was going I needed both." He swallowed hard and looked into his little sister's eyes. "So I asked Jimmy to give me the drug," he finished quietly.

"Was he the one that infected you?" Trai whispered.

Danny nodded. "We shared a needle… only once… but it was enough…"

"I thought you were smarter than that," Trai said shakily, her voice close to breaking.

"So did I," Danny whispered. "So did I."

It was a hard night.

Trai hadn't eaten anything at dinner, either, and her lunch had been only a few bites of something the hospital called a sandwich, but was in reality anything but.

Angie knew that Trai was upset, and so went up to Trai's old room in the Buscemi home in Bay Shore, where Trai was staying for however long Danny would hold out.

"Trai?" Angie called softly through the door. "Trai, can I come in?"

The clicking of the keys of Trai's typewriter ceased, and Trai's voice called, "Sure…"

Angie slowly eased open the door. Trai was sitting on her old bed with her typewriter and notebook. It was a familiar scene for Angie; she'd found Trai like this many nights in college.

She sat down on the edge of the bed. "What's wrong, Trai?" she asked quietly.

"Nothing," Trai whispered, though she pushed away the typewriter and shut her notebook, which was a good sign.

Is she going to talk? Angie wondered. "Trai, c'mon… eight years… eight years and I've told you, you can talk to me, anytime and anywhere you need to," she whispered, taking Trai's hands. "Please… Trai, if something's going on, tell me… please tell me…"

Trai looked away and finally whispered, "Whatever I tell you, whatever I say… don't judge me?"

"Never," Angie whispered. "Tell me."

Trai took a slow breath and shut her eyes. "He hits me," she whispered, "and he rapes me…"

When Angie arrived in his hospital room the next morning, Danny already knew something was wrong.

"Ang?" he asked softly. He could detect concern in her eyes, and, he knew, not all of it was for him. "Did she…?"

"She told me everything," Angie whispered, sitting down next to him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"And?" Danny whispered.

"We were right," Angie said quietly.

Danny breathed out a slow sigh and leaned back against the pillows. "Shit," he sighed. Though he'd suspected about his sister's abuse for years, having it confirmed hurt.

After a hesitation he said quietly, "How badly has he… how badly has the bastard hurt her?"

Angie lay down next to him, and he pulled her close. "Badly… she… she showed me the scars… he hits her, rapes her… but there's more than that, so much more…"

Danny closed his eyes, biting his lip hard. He wished, more than anything, that he could hurt the bastard that had done this to his baby sister. He'd known, he'd known Jason was no good for her, but the first night he'd met him had been when he'd been diagnosed… he had been too high to even realize… and then he got the results, and everything went to hell…

As much as Trai's confession hurt him, he knew Angie was upset too, and took her into his arms. "Shh… shh…" he soothed, holding her as she sobbed.

"What did any of us do?" Angie sobbed. "She's hurt… you're dying… I can't take this, Dan, I can't!"

Danny held her tighter and whispered, "I love you… I'm sorry, Angela, you know how sorry I am…"

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Angie sobbed. "Y-you were supposed t-to get better a-and live with me… and we were supposed to get married…"

Danny could feel his throat starting to close as he thought of all the promises he'd made a year before. "I know, baby," Danny whispered, stroking her hair. "I know what I said."

When Angie finally stopped crying, Danny gently tilted her face to his and kissed her. It grew steadily in passion until Angie had her hand on Danny's chest and Danny had undone her blouse and was kissing her breasts.

"Can we do this here?" Angie murmured, breathless.

"Should we?" Danny asked, nervously. Angie bit her lip before slowly pulling protection from her purse. They debated silently for a moment, as they did every time, before Danny said softly, "Angie… I don't want… I don't want to infect you or get you pregnant… not—not when I'm like this… there's a good chance of either…"

Angie put her finger to his lips, willing him silent, tears gathering in her eyes. "I want this," she whispered.

Danny swallowed and touched her cheek gently. "Okay," he whispered.

"You're absolutely sure?" Trai whispered two days later.

Danny nodded, holding her close. "Yeah," he whispered.

Trai looked away, her breathing shaky, ragged, as she tried to hold back her sobs. She knew, as did Danny, that he was about to die.

"You don't hate me?" she finally managed, her voice trembling badly.

"Why would I hate you?" Danny asked her, making her look at him.

"Because I didn't tell you… about Jason…"

"I could never hate you for being scared," Danny told her, very softly. "I know how it feels, Trai… maybe not exactly, but damn close… the day I got the results of my test, I was terrified," he told her honestly.

Trai buried her face in his chest. "I—I can't tell Mom and Dad just yet… b-but I think I might break up with him…"

"That's good," Danny encouraged, breaking off for a second to cough. When he could speak again, he wheezed, "Bastard doesn't deserve you anyway."

Trai smiled, but she was crying. "I found someone I like," she whispered.

"Really?" Danny had to smile too, though his chest felt tight. "What's his name?"

"Mark. Mark Cohen."

"Nice Jewish guy," Danny chuckled. "That'll make Dad happy."

"Yeah," Trai whispered. "Yeah…"

"It makes me happy, too," Danny said very gently, holding her gaze. "I… I'm glad that… that I could see you happy… just this once…"

Trai swallowed hard and kissed her brother's forehead. "You should sleep," she said shakily. "I'll… I'll stay."

"If you don't want to…" Danny began.

"I want to," Trai whispered, taking her brother's hand and holding it tightly.

Danny drifted off into sleep.

At 12:02 in the morning, Daniel Anthony Buscemi was pronounced dead.

To his sister, it seemed horribly wrong that the New Year started with death.

Trai returned to Jason five days after she'd left, on January 1st, just hours after her brother had died. She'd spent the night with Angie and her parents, all of them crying, praying for Danny.

While she knew that Jason wouldn't be happy with her, she'd decided to honor what she'd said to her brother, and break up with him.

Still, as she opened the door, she was terrified.

"J—Jason?" she called, her voice strained. "I… I'm home…" She was still shaken by Danny's death, and she knew she was a mess.

Jason emerged from the kitchen, his voice flat as he said, "Nice of you to come home. You look like shit."

"Danny's dead, Jason!" Trai told him, her voice shaky and broken. "And I'm not taking anymore shit from you. I'm getting my stuff and I'm leaving."

Jason slapped her, the sound echoing harshly in the dark stillness of the living room. She took a breath, trying not to cry, but failing. It was the first time since Danny's diagnosis that he'd even seen her shed a tear.

"Fuck you," she said angrily, standing up to him like she'd tried to so many times before. "Fuck you! How much of a fucking sick bastard do you have to be after my brother just died with me there?!"

Jason slammed her hard against the wall, and she twisted, trying to pull away, but Jason shoved his arm against her throat, making breathing difficult, keeping her pinned.

"Get off of me," she yelled against the burning pain in her throat. "Get off of me!"

Jason punched her in the jaw, and she fell silent, though her eyes were burning with anger. "Do you know how weak you are?" Jason hissed into her ear. "Do you? Do you even know how fucking pathetic you are right now?"

He pushed her to the floor. "Go. Take your shit and leave."

Before she could pull herself to her feet, he delivered a sharp kick to her side, and said slowly, deliberately, "Wherever you run to, I will find you."

He left Trai on the floor of their apartment, bleeding from her mouth and rubbing her soon-to-be-bruised side, which was causing her a lot of pain.

I have to get out of here.

Trai stumbled up the stairs, dazed from pain, grabbing the few of her things that she needed still and throwing them into the bag that held her typewriter and papers that she'd brought with her to Bay Shore.

Then she left, her eyes burning with tears of grief and pain, and made her way haltingly to Avenue B, where she knew Mark lived.

She passed out in the alley outside his building.

A/N- Hello, darlings! It's Divine Sally Bowles and dear GOD, I am sorry I left you all hanging! As it turns out, I lost my notebook and therefore many of my drafts for Chapter Four. Coincidentally enough, I found it this morning under a pile of papers and my copy of The Bell Jar :)

"Strong Enough" is a song by Sheryl Crow.

DramaQueenRENThead/MeredithGrey- Changed your pen name, I see. Sorry the update didn't come as soon as you would've liked. I hope to get Chapter Five up and running soon.

Diva Actress- Thanks!!

xxReDhEaDxx- Aww, Lily, I love you! Unfortunately, Sunny Road has hit a sunny creative block, but I'm slowly getting back to that too.

BroadwayBabe32- The death and sadness has arrived; more of it will come later, trust me.

wiccashadowcat- Thank you for the enthusiasm!!

I see that a lot of people have put me on their alerts/favorite lists but have not reviewed; while I definitely appreciate it, please give me some critique or feedback? It would be much obliged.

Sorry about the delay, my lovelies. Happy (late) Passover and Easter!

-Divine Sally Bowles