I thank everyone for the excellent feedback and the on-going good reception this fiction is getting! I hope everyone likes this new chapter, as Jessica finally gets her back story, which was planned from the start. =)
CHAPTER TEN
"Charlie you have to understand the reality of crimes like this-" Don said forcibly.
"Excuse me I understand the reality!" Charlie interrupted him, unable to be talked over on this, to just let his brother take the USB key and encrypted photos and the responsibility from his shoulders. This time there was more than what his brother understood, and this time he couldn't let it go.
"What the hell are you doing?" Don demanded, "I need more than the photograph, I need to stop a guy from disappearing into Mexico!" Don was angry, Don was furious that Charlie was getting in the way of his work, of his investigation, but Charlie couldn't give it up. This meant something. There was a reason why he couldn't give up the memory device. He couldn't fail. Not again. Then Don shouted "An Agent was killed," and there was nothing Charlie could do against that. Charlie understood responsibility and the weight of having others put their lives under your command in trust – and failing them. Charlie knew penance.
Before he even asked, he knew the answer. "He set off the explosion?"
"Yes" Don said, tone hard but the guilt hardly hidden at all.
Charlie looked down at the small electronic device clutched in his hand, knuckles white. Charlie didn't want to give it up, but he was familiar with weighing the cost between a life lost and a life they could save against the thirst for vengeance and appeasement of old failures. Charlie didn't want to let it go but this was Don, Don who was angry and hurting and Charlie was just too used to giving up, giving in, trying his best to protect Don from everything he could. From the hard truths that Charlie could not, could never, and had no intention of ever revealing to Don.
Charlie raised his arm and held out the memory key. Don still had to yank from his tight fingers and his bitten off "thank you" was full of hostility. Charlie couldn't look up, his head pulled downwards from the weight too heavy to lift.
It was another one of his failures pulled in front of him. Another reminder that he was weak; had always been weak. He had always walked away from things, from the things that hurt; turning away from reality and sinking into the numbers for escape. He had walked away from caring for his mother when she was sick, he had walked away from Frynd-Sign when it hurt too much, he had walked away from his family to Princeton when he couldn't relate to them anymore, and he had walked away from Jessica even when he had known something was wrong.
He was weak. He was a failure. He only hoped that it would be some time yet before Don knew. Could only hope that he could protect Don, help him, for just a little bit longer before the visage of competence was ripped away to reveal the wretched man underneath.
He needed his brother to need him, just for a bit longer. For as long as possible.
. : - : .
"What was it you needed to talk to me about?" Charlie asked when they were settled into the kitchen, leaning by the counter ledge.
Jessica looked at him and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to gather up the courage. "You called."
Charlie tilted his head in curiosity, having already established that it was Vahn who had contacted the Company, and Jessica knew that. There was another reason she used the words.
Deep earthly brown eyes snapped open to meet his. "You called my mother. And she called me."
Charlie's brows furrowed, trying to remember whose mother he had called in the past while. Not any of his student's, or fellow colleges, or even scholarly collaborators. There had only been one parental figure that he had specifically contacted within the recent months.
Charlie felt like he just got hit in the gut, all the air rushed out of him in a startled breath and his eyes widened in shock at the woman in front of him. "Jes…sica?" He rasped.
Her lips quirked. She stared at him with sad, morose, and joyful eyes shining with tears. "Once." She said, voice wavering. "Once there was a little girl, who lived down the street and hated her life. She lived with a father she despised with every fiber of her being and a mother who was too absorbed in her drinking to ever do anything about life. Once there was a girl who was miserable and only existed day to day, no trace of any happiness in her life. But then, one day, she met a boy." She wrapped her arms around herself, lips pulling upwards in a smile, "A boy she couldn't talk to or play with often, her father didn't like the girl spending a considerable amount of time with anybody, but sometimes she knew, when the little boy looked at her in her eyes, that he was just as lonely as she was. Just as outcasted, from the things they couldn't tell other people, from the things other people wouldn't understand."
Charlie didn't tumble but his knees felt weak, the kitchen counter the only support that kept him standing.
"Even though they weren't allowed to spend a lot of time together, and they never talked much, it made the little girl glad. To know that she wasn't alone. It gave her strength; hope for a better life. It gave her a reason to dream."
"Jessica." Charlie whispered, disbelieving eyes roving the contours of her face. "Jessica…Cartman."
"Then the family moved, because the father didn't like how the little girl was staring after the fey haired boy."
Charlie's throat closed up. It hurt to swallow and it was too tight for speech.
She stared at him, taking in the sad tear-filled eyes with something like happiness in her own eyes. She gave a shaky smile and took a fortifying breath before continuing.
"I ran away with I was 16." Jessica revealed. "I left home as soon as I was able, saving as much money as I could beforehand and just waited for my birthday to drop out so that no one from school would come looking. I ran away at 16." She repeated, "I was angry, confused, and desperate. I was willing to do anything to get out of there. I was alright for a while, but then the money ran out. There was only so much I could save in the first place. And living on the streets, yes, there were times I had to use what I had: flaunt my body and barter for how much it was worth. But at least this time, it would be my choice," Jessica said fiercely, "my decision who got to look and who got to touch me. It might be a choice between starving and eating, but it was mine. I could have chosen to die, I didn't mind dying. I wasn't afraid of death, I had no real reason to live."
"Jessica." Charlie whispered, swallowing, then slipping into the childhood name. "Jess."
Jessica blinked back her own set of tears. "But there's only so long you can live day to day, wondering why you bother to try. I needed a reason, and I refused to be a victim again. So weak and full of fear that I couldn't do anything. Then I saw the poster. Then I knew." She breathed in. "Two years after I left, I went home. My father was out, I waited and watched to make sure that he was gone. I had all the papers ready when I knocked on the door. When I was 18 I changed my name back to Cale, my mother's surname, because I wanted nothing of that bastard's." Jessica's tone was acerbic. "I was my own person. I had my mother sign the forms for the name change and also the parental papers of consent for enlistment into the army. I was going to be strong Charlie."
Charlie swallowed, just waiting, unable to interrupt the story. He couldn't. He needed to know.
"But even after you enlist and you pass the training, you find that nobody wants you. The men will leer and try to protect you but none will take you seriously, none will treat you as an equal. You're shuffled around, team to team, unit to unit, base to base, because no one wants you." The old bitterness was clear, "Until you get to Frynd-Sign. 35% of the active soldiers in the Frynd-Sign Company were female, you ever wondered about that Charlie?" She asked.
"I knew that it was unusual compared to some of the other army contingents I'd seen." Charlie replied softly.
"But then Frynd-Sign was used to unusual." Jessica said amused.
Charlie silently agreed.
Jessica's eyes softened. "I guess we were all different but in the Company we were all the same: we were Frynd-Sign." She paused. "I joined the army, I passed the training and then I was shuffled around until I got to the Frynd-Sign company. That's when I saw you again."
Charlie stared at her, waiting.
"You had already been with the Company for a while then, I don't know how long. But I knew it was you, even before they said your last name, I knew it was you Charlie." She closed her eyes in remembrance. "My Charlie, from my childhood: same nervous stammering, bright eyes, fey like features and dark curls." Her eyelids fluttered open and she met his puzzled gaze. "You might be wondering why I didn't tell you then, who I was, that I knew you. But I was a lowly Private and you were Third. Barely 20 years old and you were Third-In-Command of an extensive, well organized, Company of soldiers." She blinked rapidly but it didn't stop the flow of tears that started. "You were so beautiful, you never changed. Still so slender and fragile looking, but mind lost drifting in a higher place of existence we couldn't see. Bright. Brilliant."
Charlie's chest was tight, like his heart was caught in a high pressurized vault by the look of sheer unabashed joy and pride on Jessica's face. For him. It's been so long since he's seen it.
"I didn't need you to know I was there. I knew you were there. You were so beautiful with Krythan and Vahn, you fit, the three of you complimented each other. Anderson couldn't believe that he got a chance with you – none of us could believe either. But the two of you made it work, you tried, and you were good for each other. You deserved every happiness Charlie," She reached out a hand to trail a lone finger alone his cheek, "You still do. It wasn't fair when Anderson passed away. It wasn't." There was anger there, at the world, at the harsh reality, on both her own and Charlie's behalf. "But I'm glad that Krythan and Vahn were there for you. I'm so glad."
Charlie choked back a sob. After all these years of suppressing any memories even associated with Anderson, to hear his name and to share the memories with someone who was there and understood, it healed as much as it hurt.
"I could have gone forever, not telling you. I was happy to be Frynd-Sign Charlie. Happy to be under your command. I could have died happy, knowing that I served a cause. Because there is, because you always have a reason for each of us to be standing or fighting at a position. Because we all support each other. You command us as a whole Charlie, no one left behind if you could help it, and I'm honored to be serving under you again."
Charlie reached up to hold onto her hand, two pairs of bright eyes staring at each other.
"I could have gone to my grave not telling you, but then my mother contacted me saying that you called her – called her asking where I was and how I was doing. I haven't talked to my mother in over a decade Charlie," she confessed, "I hadn't contacted her after she signed the papers and I enlisted. Turns out she left the bastard after I joined the army, said that it was a wake up call when she signed away her daughter." Jessica sighed. "It's too late now for her to mend bridges but we can try, are trying, to get along. I would have hung up on her as soon as she spoke but she rushed in and said your name, that was the only reason I stayed on the phone with her."
Jessica searched his eyes. "She said that you were asking about me, about if I was fine. If I had made it through the ordeal – well Charlie, I did. I lived through it, I survived, and I'm stronger now. I was so happy when I saw you at Frynd-Sign. So glad. We both survived."
"Jessica." Charlie said, voice absolutely wrecked.
"You were beautiful, ethereal. And a better man than any I've known. I don't place any blame on you Charlie, I never did. I didn't expect you to save me, I was just looking for someone who understood: someone who would know, to share that knowledge with me, to let me be not alone." She cupped his face in her hands gently, "It wasn't your fault Charlie, it was never your fault. And you should carry no guilt from it."
Charlie shook his head, throat tight, unable to take in her words, "I…I did nothing. I walked away from you, letting…letting that…"
She roamed her eyes over his face carefully, taking in every detail, "Is it absolution you need Charlie?" She asked, "Forgiveness?" He went still, and she knew, "If it is, you have mine, not that you ever needed it. You saved my life Charlie; you were my friend. That meant everything, made all the difference. I was so glad to see you at Frynd-Sign." Jessica looked into this eyes, "To see that we both made it." She pulled his face down towards her, guided him down until their foreheads touched, and she whispered, "We're different from those helpless insecure little children we were Charlie. We're not them anymore. We've grown up - grown strong. We're Frynd-Sign." She leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his brow, "We're not alone."
Even when Gryffin had wanted to be nothing more than the waking dead, he had pulled through because Frynd-Sign doesn't leave its members behind, and they don't give up simply because it's easy. Frynd-Sign had been given the dredges and taken in the worst, Frynd-Sign got the spoilt and petulant and outcasts. Krythan and Vahn took them all in and broke them, shattered them and remolded them, compressing until the rough jewel was a shining diamond. Frynd-Sign got the fucking incomparable.
Charlie closed his eyes and breathed in, the crushing weight on his shoulders changing to one he could uphold because he finally remembered. Even though he had seen Vahn and asked Greg to be his Second, it hadn't really sunk in until this moment: he was Frynd-Sign. He was going to be Frynd-Sign again. The others were going to gather and they were going to stand together against the world, a clear division line: us and them. Charlie wouldn't be by himself behind the line, he would be supported and accompanied by others. They were going to listen to him and he was going to listen to them.
In a world where he couldn't connect to anybody or reach out to relate to the normal people, they would be there: with him, by him, leaning on him while he leaned on them. They weren't going to question his competence and he wasn't going to be left behind on field missions.
He was Charlie Eppes, Frynd-Sign's Tactician.
He wasn't alone.
. : - : .
"We need you to calculate the odds of success for the mission." The military officer explained, pushing the files across his desk. "And give a prognostic of the situation of the troops, where it is most vital to send back up."
"Isn't this a conflict of interest?" Krythan spoke from behind, walking into the room without knocking. Vahn followed after her and the officer stiffened at the new company.
"Conflict of interest?" Charlie asked, flicking his eyes from his friends to the officer. "What conflict of interest?"
Krythan's lips pulled upwards but the smile did not spread to her eyes, cold blue evaluating the outsider icily. Vahn remained silent, arms crossed, standing by Krythan's side in visible support.
"Major Sign." The officer greeted curtly before turning back to Charlie's expectant eyes, reluctantly elaborating. "When the mission parameters are calculated, the Frynd-Sign Company will be sent to support the current deployed soldiers on the battle lines."
Charlie paled. "What-how-I can't…" The beige folder was scrunched between terse hands. "How can you ask me to do this?" He finally said with a hoarse rasp.
"Because he wasn't going to tell you until we got the order for deployment." Krythan explained, "Or he wasn't ever going to tell you."
The officer set his shoulders back. "Civilian Consultants do not have to follow to the battle lines."
"Oh, but didn't your superior tell you?" Krythan questioned sarcastically, dark amusement in her eyes. "Charlie's an Operative. He's part of our Company."
"He comes with us." Vahn finally spoke. "We protect our own."
Charlie didn't need to see the shock on the officer's face to know it was there. "I can't...I can't do this. I can't run this calculation, knowing that the Company-"
"Better you than anyone else Charlie." Krythan told him, meeting Charlie's pleading eyes with her own steady gaze. "Better you than any other consultant or scientist. We trust you. You'll bring us back Charlie."
Vahn's vivid blue eyes seconded Krythan's words. "You're the best we've got."
Charlie closed his eyes and breathed out, smoothing the papers out in front of him. He opened the cover and pulled out a pencil, eyes moving over the data.
Krythan motioned to the officer, "Your job is done." She said, dismissing the man. "We'll let you know when the calculations are done Wren."
Charlie, already lost in the numbers, didn't watch the officer leave.
. : - : .
Greg sat waiting patiently on the couch, the television a pleasant blankness in front of him; he didn't feel up to watching the news or staring at the many mindless day time shows offered. He simply waited, content, knowing that no matter what happened in the kitchen, Charlie was going to walk out his commander, his superior. After so many years of fumbling around the politics and navigating the black ops, paranoid and rightly so, to finally relinquish command once again to someone who he trusted, who he would stand in the middle of a battlefield for and not move an inch if he was commanded, even if it lead to his death, because at least his death would be mourned, it would count towards something instead of just advancing someone's political career. Charlie cared for his soldiers, always had, and always would. He sat with his elbows on his knees, fingers interlaced in front of him, just enjoying the moment, the feeling of being where he should be, where he belonged without any complicated circumstances.
He got up when the doorbell rang. He could near soft noises from the kitchen, but no distinct words and he assumed that they would need more time. He didn't want to interrupt them since Charlie hadn't called for him yet. He stood and walked over to open the door, a small thrill going down his spine, that he could do this now. He had permission; he was Charlie's Second and he had the right to know who was coming to see his First.
"Charlie we wanted to – oh."
FBI Agents Colby Granger and David Sinclair stood on the doorstep, clearly not expecting to see him.
"Agents Granger and Sinclair." Greg greeted, staying in the doorway.
"Is Charlie home?" Sinclair asked, a quick flick of his eyes to the house behind him as Granger tensed at the unexpected company.
"He's with someone." Greg replied. "They're in the kitchen."
Granger smiled stiffly. "Mind if we come in?"
Gregory Williamson considered the two men in front of him, knowing the they were FBI agents part of Charlie's older brother's team, but this time also considering the potential they had for being able to hurt Charlie. This was a lot more personal now that Charlie had asked him to become his Second. The tension rose as the three men stood off silently until Greg finally waved a hand for them to enter.
"Have a seat." Greg said coolly, motioning to the couches. "I'll check if Charlie is available for company."
Granger kept smiling but his eyes showed strain and Sinclair's brows rose in equal amounts of surprise and skepticism. Greg turned towards the kitchen and the two agents shared a look of incredulity behind his back.
Greg made sure his steps were audible as he approached and the murmurs died off before he knocked softly on the wood. He paused, counting silently to three before pushing the door open. Charlie stood by the end of the counter, watching as Greg walked in. Jessica was bent over the sink, hands dripping as she splashed water over her slightly flushed face. Charlie's eyes were a bit bright but there was nothing to be a cause for concern. Instead there was a look of resolve and joy that hadn't been there earlier .Whatever Jessica had shared with Charlie had only bolstered him, not making him question himself.
Greg was glad, and thankful for her both as part of Frynd-Sign and as Charlie's Second. Which seemed more and more certain by the moment, because Charlie had said 'if' earlier: if in the case of Frynd-Sign reassembling. But the soldiers were gathering, and the agents were investigating and coming too close, and soon. Soon Charlie would take command and lead them; because Krythan Sign was MIA and Frynd-Sign never left a member behind.