A/N: Longer chapter than usual. And all I can really say on the likely length of this fic is that it is going to be shorter than 'The more things change'.
January 16th 1999
He'd found the address that Angelica had given him for Tess without any trouble, but when he knocked there was no answer. Could be that there was no one home, he knew that, but he wasn't completely sure that was the case. The drapes were still shut and there was just a feeling...not a house he'd normally consider breaking into blind.
Right now, of course, he was considering it. Tess had called him, and there was no way she would do that unless she was desperate. He found it all too easy to imagine her just on the other side of that door, maybe injured and alone.
He bit his lip, forcing his imagination into silence. He couldn't break in right now. There were houses all around; he knew he was being watched by at least two nosey neighbours. This didn't seem the friendliest neighbourhood in the world, but he didn't think they'd sit and watch him break in without doing something about it.
Alright. If he wasn't any further forwards by tonight, he was breaking in and that was an end to it. In the meantime...he glanced at the nameplate by the door. Apparently John Ross lived here. Well, for a start, he could learn as much about John Ross as possible.
Nosey neighbours were about to come in handy.
He looked round and saw an elderly lady struggling with an armful of shopping, obviously heading to the house next door. Wasn't that just perfect.
Effortlessly projecting an air of innocent charm, he walked up to her. "Excuse me, ma'am, do you need a hand with those?"
A little heavy lifting got him the information that her name was Betty, and she'd lived here all her life, and five minutes later he was sitting in her kitchen, drinking a cold glass of lemonade and hearing absolutely everything that had happened in the neighbourhood for the past two decades. He listened patiently. As tempting as it might be, demanding answers was counterproductive. Eventually, with a little steering, she would get onto what he needed to know.
"...and of course, I told Mr Ross next door that he had his television up too loud again, but do you think he listened?"
"His television?" Rusty asked, sounding sympathetic, and any lead in, no matter how irrelevant it seemed, would do.
"Oh, yes, dear," she nodded. "Unbearable it was. I don't know how they can hear themselves think. And the programs they listen to! All shouting and swearing. Awful, it is. And in the middle of the night too."
"Awful," he agreed, shaking his head, and his mouth was dry. "And it's definitely the television?"
"Well what else could it be?" she asked. "I suppose one of those new-fangled video cassette recorders maybe, I don't know. When I was young we had the radio and the picture house."
"Ah, well, you won't get someone like that appreciating the simple life," he nodded, desperately trying to keep her talking about John Ross. "You said they...he's married?"
As he hoped, that seemed to hit a nerve. "Married? No, not him. He has a woman living with him though. I don't know how young people live with themselves these days. Fornication is a sin, you know."
There were worse crimes. "What's she like? The woman," he asked, and part of him was hoping that he'd found Tess at least.
"She's pretty," Betty conceded with a sniff. "The tall and elegant type. Gives herself airs, if you ask me, though she needn't. She doesn't work and there's no ring on her finger. A kept woman, we used to call it. Someone's bit of stuff."
He didn't know anything for sure. He didn't know.
"Now, what was her name?" she wondered. "I heard Mr Ross yelling it once. She hadn't pressed his shirt or something." She looked smug. "I don't know, I think if a woman doesn't have anything else to do she can at least look after her man. I don't know what the modern girl is thinking."
"The name?" Rusty prompted with quiet desperation, hoping that she wouldn't notice anything suspicious in the question.
She didn't seem to. "Let me see, it began with a 'T', I know that. Tracey or Teresa or Tina, maybe."
"Tanya?" he threw out. "Tess?"
"Tess!" She nodded sharply and his heart sank. "That was it. Pretty name. Pretty woman. Very rude though. Most days when I say hello to her in the street, she doesn't even acknowledge me. And last winter she slipped on the ice and when Mr Lucas went to help her up, she snatched her hand away! Wouldn't let him touch her, can you believe that? Must have been drinking, if you ask me. We all watched her crawl to the front door. On her hands and knees, well. I'd die of shame if it was me."
Rusty thought that Tess had probably wanted to. He imagined her in that position, imagined how she'd feel - whatever the cause - and he had to fight the urge to go throw up.
"What's he like?" he asked instead. "John Ross."
"Oh, he's a real man," she said happily, with a slight sideways look that suggested she didn't think he measured up. "He's tall and strong and ever so polite. He's helped me with my shopping a time or two, you know, and he liked my lemonade just as much as you do."
Rusty laid the glass down quickly on the table, before he could help himself. "What does he do?" he asked hastily.
"Business, dear," Betty told him. "That's really as much as I know. I think he owns a few warehouses."
That covered a lot of ground, both legitimate and otherwise. Not that it really mattered. Tess was here and she was in trouble and he had to talk to her.
"You know, you're a nice young man," Betty said thoughtfully. "You really need to find a nice young lady and settle down. You don't want to end up like poor Mr Ross, taken in by a floozy."
"Thank you, Betty," he said, standing up quickly. "For the lemonade and the chat. I really must be going now."
"Oh," she said, flustered. "Oh, well, it was nice to meet you. Let me see you out."
She showed him to the door and he walked out into the street.
Right. That had done nothing to ease his mind. His fingers scrubbed around the outside of his mouth, as he slowly walked past the front door. He had to get a way to see Tess. But even if she was there, she wasn't answering the door. He sighed. Maybe if he...
The front door started to open slowly.
He quickly sped up, making sure he was well past the house, and he ducked behind a tree at the end of the street, and looked back to see.
Tess walked slowly out the door and he could see that she was moving as carefully as possible, could see the clumsiness as she turned and locked the door, and she fumbled with her keys, nearly dropping them twice, before she turned round and walked down the path and onto the street, walking away from him.
He supposed he could understand why Angelica and Betty had thought she might have a problem with alcohol. Understand. Not forgive. Because the evidence was mounting up, and Rusty didn't think it was just him being paranoid anymore.
Oh, Tess. This was going to just kill Danny.
He couldn't confront her here. The nosy neighbours again, and the last thing he wanted was to risk it getting back to John. No point in asking for trouble. He'd follow her; there was bound to be a better opportunity.
She trudged down the street and he made sure to stay as far behind her as he dared. After all, he knew she'd recognise him. Hadn't been that long. And he watched her as she walked, and her shoulders were hunched, her head down...she was walking like she was trying to avoid drawing any attention at all, like she was doing her best to pretend that she didn't even exist. He recognised the posture from himself, long ago, and it hurt to see her like that. She'd always been confident, always smiling. This...this just broke his heart and drove him to the heights of fury, all at once.
She headed into a small shopping district and walked into a butchers. It was a small shop, only one way in and out that he could see.He leaned against a streetlight, his hands stuffed in his pockets and waited.
After about ten minutes she came out the door, a paper bag clutched awkwardly in one arm.
She saw him and stopped dead, her eyes wide, disbelieving and frightened.
"Hi Tess," he said softly.
"R-Rusty?" she stuttered, backing away ever so slightly, her arm pulling tighter around the bag and around her chest, as if she was trying to protect herself. As if she was trying to protect herself from him. "W-what are you doing here?"
Her hair was unbrushed and unkempt, but her make-up was laid on too thickly, and he could still see the swelling around her eyes and mouth. More than that, her other arm was tucked inside her coat, and she wasn't quite standing up straight. He'd guess that she couldn't stand up straight. Inside, he was screaming. No pity, he told himself harshly. She saw pity right now and she'd run.
"You called me," he reminded her gently. "I was worried about you."
"But...but how did you find me?" she blurted out, and immediately she ducked her head, almost cringing away from him. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.
He smiled and pretended he hadn't noticed.. "I'm good at finding people, Tess.
She shook her head quickly. "I didn't mean to call you...you should go, Rusty. Please."
That wasn't going to happen. "Why don't you come have a cup of coffee with me?" he suggested instead. "We can get caught up."
With painful instinct, she looked around quickly. "I can't...I'm not supposed to..." She coloured and shook her head quickly. "I mean, I'm seeing someone now and he's expecting me home."
There was a sort of longing in her voice though and she wasn't looking directly at him, but whenever she shot a small, desperate glance at him, he could see the pain in her eyes, could see the way she was looking at him like she hardly dared believe he was actually there.
He wondered if she hadn't finished the call because she'd been frightened that even if she'd asked, he wouldn't help.
"I just want to talk, Tess," he said softly, his voice sincere. "Please. You can leave whenever you want to."
She bit her lip, worrying it harshly between her teeth, and he could see specks of blood, and he tensed, longing to tell her to stop. He couldn't though. He hadn't even acknowledged her injuries yet. He wanted to get off the street first of all. Wanted somewhere a little more private. Wanted to try and get her a little more comfortable with him, because he couldn't let her go back to John.
All this time he'd been trying to convince himself that he was being paranoid. Telling himself that he was letting his own experience colour the facts. That it wasn't going to be that bad. Only it was.
That bastard had hurt her. There was no doubt about that. That bastard had hurt her and it had been going on for over a year, by the sound of things, and Rusty had to make sure that Tess didn't even see a trace of the white-hot fury, because he didn't think she'd understand.
"Alright," she said at last.
He couldn't stop the smile of blinding relief and she blinked at him, confusion and uncertainty in her eyes, and then - very, very tentatively - she smiled back.
"I saw a diner down the street," he suggested. He'd passed it while he'd been looking for the house. It had looked clean and it had looked deserted, and those were his two main criteria right now. "What do you think?"
"Whatever you want is fine," she assured him quickly, and the smile had gone and she was staring down at the ground again.
He looked at her thoughtfully, and he didn't want to upset her by forcing her to make a decision, but he couldn't just accept the desperate submission either. "You ever eaten there before?" he asked.
"Y...yes," she stuttered, sounding like she was caught off guard. "Sometimes, if I get tired when I'm doing the shopping...it's quiet there."
"Good quiet?" he asked with a smile.
"Good quiet," she agreed, and the corners of her mouth curved ever so slightly
Two smiles. He felt his heart lighten ever so slightly at the hint that the woman he knew wasn't completely broken. "I'll trust you then," he said lightly.
Immediately the smile vanished, replaced with a look of fear and he cursed himself. Right. Because what would happen if she was wrong?
"Let's give it a try," he said hurriedly.
As they walked round to the diner, he noticed that she automatically walked a half step behind him.
Just as he'd seen through the window before, the diner was practically empty. The greasy-haired woman behind the counter looked at Tess in sharp recognition, before her eyes flickered over to Rusty and back. Obviously conclusions were being drawn, assumptions made, and he was aware of Tess withering back in the face of them.
"What would you like?" he asked her.
"Just a coffee," she whispered.
"A white coffee with half fat milk and one sugar, and a banana milkshake please," he said to the woman pleasantly. "Tess, you want anything to eat?"
She shook her head quickly, looking a little nauseous at the thought. Mmm. Really, he wanted to get her to a doctor as soon as possible.
"That's everything then," he said, passing the woman a fifty. "For privacy," he murmured, his voice low enough that Tess wouldn't hear, and the woman's eyes gleamed and she accepted the money eagerly.
He carried the drinks over to the furthest booth, tucked away from prying eyes and ears. "This okay?" he asked Tess and she nodded and quickly sat down in the seat that was facing the counter and facing the door.
That was where he'd normally sit.
With an effort, he didn't say anything. Even though this wasn't exactly the safest environment for them to be talking in, even though he wanted the line of sight, wanted to be sure that no one else was sneaking up on them, more than that, he wanted her to feel as safe and secure as possible. He remembered, after all, what it was like to never know where the next blow was coming from, to always need to be able to see the exit, to hate knowing that someone could come up behind him, to never feel safe, not even for a second.
He would be extra vigilant. And he would protect her.
"You remember the way I take it," Tess said softly, stirring her coffee.
"Yeah," he agreed, and he wasn't sure what that meant to her, but he doubted it was anything bad.
"Did Danny send you?" she asked, almost inaudibly, and somehow, for some reason, he knew that would be bad.
"You called me," he reminded her quickly. "You called me so I came."
She was chewing on her lip again, and she'd cleared the lipstick away a little, and he could see the heavy cut it had been hiding, see the swelling that surrounded it.
He tried not to stare. Tried not to imagine the moment when the back of John's hand had smashed into her mouth. Tried not to imagine the split lip, the blood trickling down her chin. Tried not to imagine the dazed look of fear and pain and shame. But he saw it and he couldn't stopseeing it.
"I didn't say anything," she said, shaking her head. "I didn't...I should never have called you, Rusty. I'm sorry, it was stupid of me. I've moved on...I'm with someone else now."
"You said," he managed to say, trying to sound as neutral as he could.
Her hands were shaking, and she almost dropped the coffee cup, and she pushed herself further back into the seat, shrinking away from him. "I...Danny's in prison, and he lied to me, and we're divorced, and I moved on, I had to move on...I'm sorry. I'm sorry, please..."
She thought he was angry with him. She thought...here he was, Danny's best friend and she was living with someone else and she thought...God! And he supposed, maybe in different circumstances, if she'd found someone else he might have been upset on Danny's behalf. But it had been two years. And they were divorced. And right now, the idea of being angry with Tess...it was wrong and it was sickening.
"Please," she said again, and he wondered darkly how many times she'd said that word in that voice and been ignored.
"That's not why I'm here," he assured her quickly. "Tess, I'm here because you sounded like you were in trouble and I wanted to help."
"I'm not in trouble," she said immediately, not meeting his eyes.
"You're hurt," he stated, and his voice was soft, but he said it clearly enough that she'd know that he knew.
She shook her head desperately. "No, I...well, yes, but it's nothing, really. I slipped. I slipped and fell down the stairs yesterday, and I banged my face and my arm. That's all. It's nothing." The words fell over each other and she was desperately trying to convince him.
He sighed. "I don't believe you."
"Just because you're a liar doesn't mean everyone else is too!" She flinched as soon as she'd finished speaking, her eyes wide, and she sat tensed, waiting for the blow. "Don't...please don't..."
"I wouldn't," he told her immediately, and he let the horror in his voice at the thought ring out loud and clear. "Oh, Tess, I wouldn't. Not ever."
Still she wouldn't look at him and he thought maybe she didn't believe him. This had been going on a year. She'd been alone for a year and no one had tried to help her?
"I know what you're thinking," she said in a voice that trembled. "But you're wrong. John is a good man. He'd never hurt me."
He took a deep breath. "That's not true, is it?"
"It is," she insisted, and he could hear the shame in her voice.
"Can you honestly look me in the eyes and tell me he didn't beat you last night?" he asked her gently.
She looked up at him wildly, her chin raised defiantly, and shaking her head, she mouthed silent broken words of denial and protest for a long, halting second, before she broke off, burying her face in her hands. "He didn't mean to," she said, her voice muffled. "He just gets cross sometimes."
Very, very slowly, making sure she saw what he was doing, he reached across the table and placed his hand on hers, drawing it away from her face.
She looked at him uncertainly, but she didn't take her hand away.
He squeezed her hand gently. "He hurts you, Tess. There is no excuse. Not ever." His thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles. "Last night you called me for help...please. Let me help you."
"I know he shouldn't hit me," she said hesitantly. "But honestly, Rusty, it's not that bad. I make him angry a lot, that's all. If I just – "
He couldn't bear to hear her talk like that. Couldn't bear to hear the doubt and selfblame. " – it's not your fault," he interrupted fiercely, and startled she jumped back, pulling her hand away.
"I should go," she said, making to stand up. "John is expecting me home...I have to cook these steaks for him." She bit her lip hard. "God, I haven't even cleaned the house. I'm so stupid. What am I doing here with you? If John sees us together, he'll get jealous." Her hands were twisting together frantically. "I...I need to go home and sort everything. He'll be home at seven, and he'll be angry and it'll all be my fault."
She was shaking, her eyes frightened, and she wouldn't even look at him.
He was losing her. She was going to walk away, go back to the bastard, and he didn't know what he'd do then, but he couldn't just let her go.
"Tess, you know this isn't right," he pleaded desperately. "You shouldn't have to live like this. You don't have to be hurt or frightened. Let me help you. I'm begging you."
"Why?" she snapped, her voice cracking. "I didn't ask you for help, Rusty. You should go. Forget I called you. I shouldn't have called you."
"I can't do that, Tess," he said patiently.
"I don't have anywhere to go, Rusty!" she said with a choked sob. "Yes. Yes, he hits me. Is that what you want to hear? He hits me and he...and he hurts me, and I just let him. Last night he was drunk and he beat me and, yes, I called you. I don't know why. But he took me home and he...and he..."
"Oh, Tess," he said, his heart breaking, and he reached out to take her hand again, but she pulled away.
"I don't have anywhere to go, Rusty," she said again. "I've got no job. No money...he took it all and he took my bank cards, and my drivers license... All I've got is what he gives me, and it's not enough to run on. I don't have anyone to turn to."
"You have me," he said, his voice full of determination. "I said I'd help you Tess. That doesn't mean I'll take you away and abandon you. Say the word, and I'll make sure you're safe."
"Why?" she asked again in a whisper. "Why would you help me? Is it...is it because of Danny?"
Yes. But that wasn't the whole truth and it wasn't the truth that she needed to hear right now. "You're my friend, Tess," he said, softly and honestly. "I want you safe. Is that really so hard to believe?"
She closed her eyes and her shoulders were shaking. "Alright," she whispered. "Alright, Rusty. I'll trust you. Take me away from here. Please."