Chapter Eight: Light and Darkness

I tried to ignore the fact that I'd been up nearly all night getting my opening argument formatted correctly, and as I left the house with Iana and Liam in tow, I was dead on my feet. I made a mental note to stop off for some tea after dropping Liam off and getting to court, because I needed that pump in my step to be on my guard. Ever since Pamela Farris had attacked me in the courtroom, I'd felt as if I'd been walking on thin ice with every witness. I didn't want to press anyone, because that would put me at risk for being attacked again, but I also really needed to do my job.

Trudging into the courtroom about an hour after I'd left my house, I handed over some coffee drink that I'd remembered Nicholas telling me he liked as I sat on the other side of him at our provided table, nursing my tea. I felt Nicholas's eyes on me then as I alternated between sipping my hot beverage and organizing all my paperwork in front of me. I didn't want to turn over and look at him, for we only had a few minutes before Judge Charles Newton was due to leave his chambers and call court to order. Finally, after a few moments had passed and Nicholas didn't let up in his staring, I turned over and looked at him.

"What?" I asked.

Nicholas smirked. "Nothing," he replied, obviously triumphant that he'd won in getting me to look over at him. "I just wanted to see your face."

I rolled my eyes. "I know I look like a wreck this morning. I don't need you telling me that," I told him, my tone clipped as I turned back to my paperwork.

"Excited to see the building today?" he asked.

I nodded. "Mmm-hmm," I replied, reading through my notes. "Of course I'm excited. Your mom says that my office was made into an exact replica. I don't know how exact an exact replica is, but we're going to find out later today..."

"I know that some things can be recreated," Nicholas put in, reaching across the space between us and putting his hand on my knee.

Immediately, I felt my cheeks flame as I reached down and pushed his hand off. "Not in court, for god's sake!" I hissed through my teeth. "We're representing your parents here, Nicholas, and we don't have any room for error."

"I thought we'd reached the end of the tunnel during Christmas," Nicholas whispered back to me, his voice riddled with confusion. "I thought that we were okay..."

"We're fine, Nicholas," I replied, "but right now I'm trying to figure out the fine line between inappropriate and appropriate language for opening arguments."

Nicholas moved around in his chair, leaning his back against it so that it squeaked loudly, and caused the opposing side to mutter to themselves. "We still have a moment before Gwen arrives, you know..." He muttered, crossing his arms.

I rolled my eyes. "She'll be here any minute," I replied, automatically moving to the chair on the other end of the table.

"Where are you going?"

I set my paperwork down and turned to look at him. "You know as well as I do that Gwen needs to be in between us so that she can tell us if something is wrong."

The courtroom doors opened behind us then, and Gwen made her speedy entrance, her black business heels clicking on the highly-polished, wooden floor. Her blonde hair, done up in her traditional pixie, had much more volume than it did when we were meeting for strategy back at the firm, and her white pinstriped, black pantsuit looked like a wonderful choice that morning as she stepped into the main area, and slipped into the chair beside us, flashing us apologetic looks from her deep blue eyes.

"Sorry I'm late, dears," she said, sipping her coffee in a moment of nerves. "Grace and I just couldn't agree on what Drew was going to wear this morning... It's a living," she said, turning her wedding ring on her finger. "Grace had to get to the surgery early this morning because a patient got moved up the donor list and so then I had to drive Drew to school..."

Nicholas nodded. "It's fine," he said, patting Gwen on the shoulder. "Judge Newton hasn't come out yet, so we're in plenty of time."

Gwen turned and looked at Geoff, who gave her an over-the-top, unfriendly wave from across the courtroom, where he was surrounded by all his lawyers. "That son of a bitch," she growled through her teeth. "Always has to one-up me, and now he's here first... It's been that way, ever since the day we were born..."

"I thought you were the twin who came out first," I put in.

"I was," Gwen said, turning back to face me and patting my hand. "You're allowed to ask, because you're a twin yourself, Murphy, but yes, I was born first..."

"So how did the competition begin?" I asked.

"I was a hidden twin," Gwen replied, and my heart lurched then at the term. "You're familiar with that, aren't you?"

I nodded stiffly. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm aware of it."

"Well, my parents had spent all this time preparing for Geoff's arrival—and only Geoff's arrival—so when I came on the scene, I was an unwanted guest."

I scoffed then, crossing my arms. "You're lucky they didn't just give you away and leave you to rot in foster care for three months before somebody picked you," I said, "then leaving you to the clutches of a family that didn't want to be one in the first place..."

Gwen blinked. "Is that what happened to you?"

"Yeah," I said. "My twin, Ian... He's only my half-sibling."

"So, your mother had an affair and got pregnant with you?"

I shook my head. "You would think that, but no. Ian was the product of an affair with our uncle, Clayton—or so we believe—and I was the product of Monica, my biological mother's, marriage to my biological father, Frank."

"So, they gave away the wrong twin?"

Turning, I saw that Geoff had wandered over to our side, and I felt the rage bubbling off my skin at his words. "Get. The. Fuck. Back. To. Your. Own. Table," I growled at him, gripping the edge of my desk.

Geoff put his hands up. "No judgement here..."

Nicholas got to his feet then, his chair squeaking wildly along the floor, and got into Geoff's face, gripping him by the collar of his expensive Armani suit. "You leave my co-counsel out of whatever sick game you think you're playing, Eastman."

Geoff immediately waved his hand at his circle of lawyers, who had gotten to their feet as soon as their precious client had been grabbed. "Leave it," he called back to them, pulling himself out of Nicholas's grip. "Let us leave the playground arguments for the playground," he said, moving to turn back to his table. "Oh, and Gwennie?" he asked, turning back to his sister.

"Yeah?" Gwen asked, who had, meanwhile, put her arm around my shoulders, and was giving as mean a glare to Geoff as I was.

"Be sure to keep the Great Dane," he said, nodding at Nicholas, "and the pitbull," he went on, with a nod to me, "on their leashes next time," he said, grinning at all three of us as his expensive ugly patent leather shoes brought him back to his own table.

. . .

Once court broke at noon, I swept all of my papers back into my bag, hardly keeping it together as I was in no mood for organization. I gripped onto my to-go tea holder, throwing it into the trash as I very nearly ran from the courtroom. I didn't even listen to Gwen telling me not to heed Geoff's words, or Nicholas's words of support that everything was going to be okay. I got into my car before either of them could stop me and drove like a madwoman towards the firm. All I wanted to do was lock myself in my office for another couple of hours before I was at the time where I could go home for the day.

The drive was no longer than ten minutes and when I arrived, I was shocked at just how much the building resembled the old one. There were subtle differences in the materials—due to what was readily available then versus now—but I pushed the thought from my mind as I drove into the parking lot. I found my parking space without issue and parked my car, grabbing my things and walking over to the elevator, locking my car as I walked. I pressed the correct button and rode to the proper floor, and, when the elevator dinged open, I stepped through the lobby and into the assistants' area, where I saw Rachel at her desk.

"Rachel!" I said, walking up to her.

Rachel immediately got to her feet and I threw my arms around her. "Hey, Murphy!" she said, obviously relieved to be back. "I've got your messages this morning," she said, and handed them over to me. "How are you? How was court?"

I sighed, rolling my shoulders as I took the messages from her. "If today was any clear indication, Rachel, then we're in for a whole boatload of trouble."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "That bad, huh?"

I bit my lip, skimming through my messages. "Looks that way," I said, giving her a smile that was likely more of a grimace as I trekked down the hallway.

As I walked, I looked around the space and found my steps faltering over so slightly as I neared where Allie's office was positioned. I felt my breath coming in gasps then as I saw the replicated vent where the pipe bomb had exploded, and fear came in waves down my spine. I ran my fingers along my neck, where the scar was, and felt it along my skin, shuddering at the notion of the pipe bomb bursting through the vent and getting to me...

As we walked, I remembered that there was one more air vent down the hallway, and suddenly wondered if whatever was inside it would go off. As we walked, I heard a clanging from within as we stepped closer, and I knew we only had a few moments. "Down!" I screamed, and Allie dropped to her knees, pulling Hugo with her, but it was too late for me. I felt whatever was inside the vent shoot out as I turned my head away, and make contact with the right side of my neck, singeing my skin and hair instantly. "Fuck!" I yelled, doubling over at the pain, which seared through me, as I attempted to get to my feet.

"Murphy!" Allie screamed.

I shook my head, unwilling for whoever had planted these things to beat me completely. "Come on, Allie. We've got to get Hugo out of here while we still can..."

"But, Murph—"

"No, Allie," I said, my voice firm. "Just across to the lobby, and down the stairs. We're almost there," I said, just as we entered the assistant's area. "Come on."

I shook my head then, attempting to clear the thoughts from my mind as I rounded the corner and found my office. I tried the door and it turned, and, as I stepped inside, I flicked on the lights and felt relief at the familiarity of the space. I had brought a second bag from home, filled with the things I had managed to save from the fire, and took a few minutes, putting them back where they had been. I even had a few new photographs taken—mainly of the holidays, and I even now had a couple with Nicholas—that I organized around my desk.

I was shocked that my entire library—the books I'd managed not to save—was now intact on the shelves, and I saw a folded place card on one of them. Crossing over to it and setting the rest of my things down, I opened the card without hesitation. I quickly recognized Allie's handwriting, and the message inside warmed my heart.

For the girl who saved our lives, this is the least we could do. We had every book you had here on file, in case of an emergency. We can only hope that this small token of appreciation means a lot to you.

Sincerely,

Allie and Hugo

I ran my hand over the words for a moment before I brought it to my desk, opening the top center drawer and placing it inside. I shut the drawer then, next picking up my bag from court, knowing that I had to organize it and quickly, or else I'd be at a loss to remember which paper went where. It only took me a few moments, and now I had to prepare my questioning for the witnesses from the Eastman's company to be brought forward, which would start on Wednesday, giving our side an opportunity to prepare property.

Once I'd finished with the organizing, I found I let out a sigh then as I set my bag aside, and placed my head into my hands, my elbows resting upon the desk. I knew I couldn't let the opposing side get to me, and I also knew that what Geoff said was completely untrue. I just had to think in that mindset, I resolved, ignoring the tears that came in the next moment. I shook my head, raising up my head then and trying and failing to get them to go away.

"Stop crying," I whispered to myself. "Stop...crying..."

I shut my eyes then, hearing a combination of sounds in my ear then—Geoff's harsh words that day in the court room, as well as the pipe bomb explosion. Over and over again they entered my thoughts, one after the other, and I saw no way of getting either of them to stop. It was when a sound of thunder filled my ears then did my eyes pop open, and I knew it was someone wanting access to my office.

Immediately, I got the tears out of my eyes and straightened up at my desk, wanting to appear professional at all costs. "Come in," I replied.

The door opened and Nicholas stood there, and he managed to read my expression pretty well, for he shut the door immediately then. Cautiously, he came towards my desk, a look in his eyes which could only be described as sympathy. "Are you okay?" he asked me, and I got to my feet, wanting to be on an equal playing field.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"Murphy?" he asked. "Don't let him get to you. It's all going to be fine..."

I lowered my eyes, my mouth closing like a trap.

"Don't just shut down like this," he said, and I could sense the desperation in his tone. "You worry me when something happens. I don't know what to expect..."

My eyes locked to his. He didn't know what to expect? That was rich, coming from a confirmed liar who'd decided to keep information from me, and got his own father to go along with the sordid plan...

"I don't want to risk losing you, Murphy," he said, his tone gentle. "Please. If you would only just communicate to me, I think we could come to an understanding..."

An understanding?! What the hell was he on about this time?!

"...an understanding to get back on the right foot, the same page," Nicholas says, stumbling over his words, and I wonder then if it has been prepared before this. "Maybe... Maybe if something were to come to light..."

"Stop," I say, speaking for the first time.

Nicholas blinks at my sudden ability to speak. "Murph?"

I shake my head then, the tremors happening through my body causing me to shake briefly before I somehow manage to hold myself together. "I can't..."

"What is it, Murphy?"

I bite my lip, looking away from him. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Murphy, you know you can tell me anything..."

I let out a short laugh then, my vision clouding over with tears. If only he knew what I knew, then he wouldn't be saying that...

"Murphy?" Nicholas asked, and, at the apparent sharpness of his tone, I turned to look at him fully then. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head then, walking around my desk then and proceed to unbutton his shirt. I am slightly amused at the notion that he is taken aback, and find that I am looking up at him in devastation when he pushes my hands away. "What?" I whisper.

Nicholas turns around then, and I wonder if he is leaving me, but he merely locks the door before he comes back to standing opposite me. He then proceeds to pull at the black silk ribbon that I have tied within my white blouses' collar, and yanks at the green, strapless dress that I have over it. Even though it was cold that day, I wore no stockings, finding that the coldness kept me on track for my work ethic.

Nicholas picks me up by my hips then, putting my on top of my desk as he fishes out a condom from his pocket. I wrap my legs around him in an automatic gesture, unbuckling his belt as fast as I dared before throwing it across the room. He found himself quickly, slipping on the condom before he eased into me, and I dragged him through the remaining space between us, slamming his mouth on mine, to prevent myself from crying out.

"Careful, Murphy," Nicholas admonished, his mouth barely leaving mine.

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to be completely careful—this was a reckless game we were playing, with Nicholas withholding information from me, and me keeping secrets from him. I know it's unhealthy, I thought then as I dragged him back to my mouth, tasting him, as I yanked him closer, deeper, inside me. And I was also aware of the harsh implications this could therefore bring in our future, if we ever did decide to take another step within our relationship, and perhaps betrayal, resentment, and dishonesty would weight out. As those words crossed my mind then, I pulled away from him, and Nicholas regarded me then.

"What?" he asked.

I shook my head then, gasping aloud as he moved just perfectly inside me. "Nothing," I replied, pulling him back to my lips again.

. . .

The next few weeks of court weren't much better, and they included no less than three barbs a day from Geoff. He was fully convinced that my adoption was a joke, due to me supposedly running here the moment I heard about it. I rolled my eyes at him, biting at the insides of my cheeks in an effort to keep myself quiet. The last thing I needed was to potentially lose Gwen as a client—and my reputation as an attorney. It wouldn't look good if I attacked Geoff in the courtroom, and it certainly wouldn't look good if he attacked me.

I got home from work one day in the third week of January, and was surprised to find that Liam had managed to negotiate the bus route on his own, and had enjoyed it. He claimed he would try to find a way to let me know in the future if he was going to take that method of transportation home, and I agreed to it, pending Ian's approval. I went over to the fridge then to get Iana a bottle, and swore under my breath when I noticed that we were out. Shaking my head, I picked her up to feed her, and Iana looked shocked.

"Mama?" she asked.

"Snack time," I replied.

Iana shook her head. "No," she replied.

I raised my eyebrows. "You're not hungry?"

She sighed. "I tell Rebecca 'no', too..."

"Wait. You don't...?"

"No," she said, her voice firm. "I don't want it."

I blinked, straightening my blouse again. "All right," I said, relieved that there wasn't going to be a tantrum or something pertaining to that. "Do you want some peaches, then?"

"Yes, Mama," Iana replied, grinning.

I got Iana the peach she asked for and worked on homework for a while with Liam, putting Iana upstairs for a nap before Ian returned home from work. I started dinner—grilled cheese and tomato soup because it was a cold day and I was too exhausted to come up with something even more creative than that—while Liam headed upstairs to take a shower before dinner. I felt relieved when Ian came in, giving me a hug and shrugging off his EMT jacket, moving to sit down at the table.

"Court any better today?"

"Fuck court," I replied.

"Ooh," he replied. "Really? That bad?"

I muttered something unintelligible as I continued frying up the sandwiches. "That Geoff Eastman is a son of a bitch..."

"Tell me why you didn't have Nicholas take him out?"

I shrugged. "Because there was a judge on the other side of the door..."

"So, it has nothing to do with the fact that you're still mad at him?"

I rolled my shoulders, mentally counting to ten in my head as I attempted to calm myself down, and managed to succeed—halfway, anyway. "Maybe..." I said, flipping the sandwiches onto a plate and continuing to stir the soup.

"So, you're telling me that you're completely over it?" he asked, and I stood there, my back to him, spatula still in hand, praying that I wouldn't lash out at him. "You're completely over all of it? Josh being an asshole in the elevator? Nicholas telling his dad to lie to you about Pamela Farris, or that he's lying to you about being in love with you? Or, and this is my personal favorite, that he got his dad—his fucking dad!—to go to bat and lie with him, all for your supposed benefit?! What the fuck, Murph?" he asked.

I turned to look at Ian then, feeling that I was shaking. "You think I like living like this?" I whispered to him. "You think I enjoy the drama, like it's a fucking drug to me? You think I would smoke it, snort it, or inject it—think again! We come from a whole family of addicts, Ian, and I'm just like one of you. I'm a fucking Gallagher, too," I said, and thumped my fist to my chest like some primal being. "I don't want to live like this, Ian, I don't, but I'm starting to think I don't have a choice..."

"We all have a choice, Murphy," Ian replied, getting to his feet, crossing towards me, and placing his hand on my shoulders. "We all have a choice in this life. The problem is, we sometimes don't know what all of our choices are, and we get scared of the outcomes that might or might not happen."

I swallowed, looking away from him. "I just... I just don't know what to do anymore," I said quietly to him. "I'm in so deep as it is..."

"With your lie, on top of his lie?"

I nodded. "Yeah. How am I supposed to explain that I've known those two vital pieces of information since Halloween, and that I know his dad covered for him? I mean, it's like I lost both Nicholas's and Hugo's trusts in the same night..."

"Does it really make you feel that way?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Shouldn't it?"

Ian sighed. "Talked to Fiona."

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, pulling away from him to face the stove again, picking up the ladle I'd been stirring with and returned it to the soup pot. "How'd that go?"

"Fine. Except for the part where you went to see her..."

I sighed. "She mentioned that?"

"Of course she did, Murph. We're all so worried about you... Did you think it would just be swept under the rug or something? Because it wasn't."

I shut my eyes. "I don't need this right now, Ian..."

"Murphy, you need to hear this," he replied, waiting for me to set down the ladle before he turned me around. "You need to hear it from me, because I was too late to change anything, but you still have a shot."

I pulled away, walking over to where we kept the plates, and proceeded to scatter them around the table. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Murphy, dammit, listen to me!" Ian screamed, grabbing me then and turning me around once again, so that we were staring at each other. "Fiona said that you can't love Nicholas. Now what the hell is that about?!"

I shook my head at him, trying and failing to get out of his grip, ignoring the tears which were threatening to expel themselves from my eyes. "Let go..."

"No, answer the question!" Ian commanded, raising his voice. "Come the fuck on! I'm your fucking brother—"

"I won't answer it!" I screamed then, and Ian immediately let me go then, his hands raised, looking down at me with shock.

"Murphy?" he asked, looking me over then. "Come on," he said, his voice silent this time as he tried to pry me open. "Please..."

I shook my head, turning away from him then. "Fuck..." I whispered, my shoulders shaking as I began to sob all over again. "You've gone and done it now..."

"Done what?" Ian asked, stepping forward and placing his hands on my shoulders. "Murphy, please talk to me..."

I shook my head again. "No," I whispered.

"Just give me one good reason—one good reason why you just can't admit that you're crazy about Nicholas..."

I wanted to pull away, but I also wanted the comfort. "I can't tell you..." I whispered. "I can't tell anyone this..."

"You can tell me..."

"No," I said, taking a step forward, his arms falling down then. "I can't."

"Then tell me why you can't, Murph," Ian replied, and I could sense the desperation in his tone to get at the information, to help me, but my rational wasn't cooperating. "I'm your twin, and your best friend. Why couldn't you tell me this?"

"I just said why," I whispered. "I can't tell anyone. Not Fiona, not Nicholas... I can't even tell you about it..."

"I need a reason, Murph," Ian said quietly.

I sighed, my shoulders deflating then as I turned around then to face him, and Ian looked mortified at the tortured expression I gave. "Because," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper, "if I told you, then it would become real."

"Isn't it real already then?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Just a thought," I said, my arms crossed, so as to keep everyone at bay. "I don't want this thought to be real..."

"Maybe if we talked about it, I could tell you for sure..."

I shook my head again, inadvertently cutting him off. "I told you already, Ian," I said. "I can't tell anyone this—not until I'm ready."

"And when you're ready?"

I sighed, feeling my entire body relaxing. "And when I'm ready, Nicholas should be the first to know," I replied.