Part 12: Release

As anxious as Jessica had been to get back to her daughter since the day he'd met her, Brody was taken aback when she insisted on accompanying him to his temporary new home before proceeding to her own.

"It's going to take, what, half an hour?" she asked when he suggested for the third time that his years of combat training had adequately prepared him to face the Angel Square Hotel on his own. "After all the months I've been away, that's not going to make a difference to Bree. But starting you off on the right foot with Roxy is going to matter for as long as you stay there. I want to do this, Brody."

Brody was an experienced enough soldier to know when he had no chance of winning a battle. Besides, this was a battle he really didn't want to win. He had gotten used to seeing Jessica every day. He wasn't looking forward to the end of their time together.

In spite of Wes' and Jessica's warnings, he was startled when Roxy Balsom first appeared, all raspy voice and frizzy bleached hair. She vanished as quickly as she had come, saying something about keys and towels.

"I do know another place," Jessica teased in a sing-song that Brody might have found annoying on anyone else but found intoxicatingly playful on Jessica. "Big, comfortable, homey. Still has some empty rooms."

"Where's that?" he asked.

"Llanfair." She slapped him teasingly on the arm, as if he should have realized where she was going with this before she'd gotten there. And he might have if he'd known what Llanfair was before she added, "My mom would love to have you stay."

Oh. That was it, then. Jessica had hardly made a secret of being very, very rich, but inside a mental institution he wasn't often confronted with the realities of her situation. "Llanfair?" he asked dubiously. "Your house has its own name?"

"I know," she said with a what-can-you-do shake of her head. Very, very rich indeed; but in touch with the real world, too, as she'd have to be after everything she'd lost. He'd never met anyone quite like her.

"Well, thanks for the offer, but I think I can handle this."

Roxy returned presently. "You're so lucky," she told Brody conversationally. "This is the last vacant room in this joint. I gotta be honest about something, though. You know, it's kind of a tough rental, considering it's where the last tenant bought the farm. They say it's haunted, but a guy like you, I bet you don't believe in ghosts."

"Oh, I do," Brody assured Roxy honestly. He tried to picture the Iraqi boy in his head and was both relieved and sad that the child now felt like a normal memory instead of one that might consume him alive. "But I'm sure I can handle this one. I've had special training."

Jessica smiled at him, understanding immediately what Brody had meant. "You can still come home with me," she offered.

"I wish I had another room," said Roxy, not unkindly.

"I'll be okay," Brody told them both. The Angel Square Hotel wasn't nice or pretty or welcoming by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a roof over his head for cheap, and that was all he was really looking for.

Jessica waltzed around him so that she was face-to-face with Roxy. "I'm gonna need you to spruce it up in here. Another coat of paint."

"Eh, no problem."

"It needs to be clean from top to bottom."

"I'll send housekeeping up."

"And I think you should knock another hundred bucks off the rent."

"All right! All right! I can't go any lower than that." She patted Jessica on the head like she couldn't help but be fond of her against her better judgment. "Leave it to a Buchanan to not know the economy is in a major regression."

Roxy flounced from the room, and Jessica cocked her head, waiting for Brody's evaluation of her performance.

"You drive a hard bargain," he told her.

"I mean it, Brody. There's plenty of room at my mom's and you-" She sighed, knowing that this was one argument she wouldn't win. "And you need to stand on your own two feet."

He sat next to her on the bed. "You don't need to baby-sit me, Jess. You have a little girl who needs your undivided attention."

She neatly ignored the reference to Bree. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," he said, because politely lying to get her to rip off the band-aid and face her daughter seemed overly complicated and difficult. "And I appreciate the negotiating. I don't want to sink a lot of money into this place, especially since I don't have any."

Naturally, Jessica had a rich-and-connected solution to that, too. "My family has a lot of pull in this town. I'm sure they'll be able to find a qualified guy like you a job."

"A trained SEAL with documented mental instability? I don't think even the Buchanans could get a job for a guy like me."

"You're a vet, and that matters to people."

"My meltdown was front page news in this town," he reminded himself more than her. "Maybe it's a mistake for me to stay."

"It would be a bigger mistake if you left!" Jessica objected so quickly that it spread a frighteningly warm, contented feeling through Brody's entire body.

Jessica caught him watching her and flailed for an explanation. "You're required to stay in treatment. That's the deal you made with the DA's office."

"I don't think they'd be sad to see the last of me." As he said it, he knew it was true, even though he wanted Jessica to keep arguing with him. "And Shane's not even in town anymore."

Jessica threw up her hands. "I'm here! What about me?"

That was the question, all right. That was the only real reason to stay in Llanview, and it scared the hell out of him. He was short months from losing his mind over Shane, a little boy who would never be his son. The stupidest thing he could possibly do was fall for a widow with a little girl—especially when that widow had demons of her own to face down. He'd seen enough of the world to know that love blossomed in all sorts of situations, some of them sad or frightening. But love between two recent graduates of a mental institution seemed more than a bit much.

"I'm sorry," Jessica said when Brody didn't reply aloud. "What do I know?"

"A lot," he rushed to assure her." You were the best thing that happened to me during a real bad time. You kept me sane at St. Ann's. As sane as a psycho can be."

"Still, I need to know when to quit. Which is now. So I'm going to go." She collected her purse and headed for the door, finally done stalling. This time, he let her go. She needed to face Bree. "Just promise me one thing."

"Name it."

"Don't leave without saying goodbye. I would… I would be really disappointed if I didn't get to say goodbye to you."

"I'd never do that. Besides, I can't take off any time soon anyway." He withdrew a football from his own bag; it had been a peace offering from Wes after he'd heard the story about Barb and the nerf football. "I promised myself I would teach you how to throw a spiral. I have a feeling you throw like a girl."

"Really." Her eyes sparkled at the challenge. "Bring it on, then."

She grabbed the ball away from him like she'd held one many times before; with her assorted older brothers, he didn't doubt that she had. That was hardly the point. The point was that when he showed her how to hold the ball, he could take her in his own arms. She fit snugly against his chest, warm and fresh and quivering with excitement.

She threw the ball; it bounced awkwardly off the bed, and Brody had absolutely no doubt that his hand splayed across her stomach had affected her aim. She laughed and turned toward him, her perfect lips an inch from his own.

That was how he came to last a grand total of fifteen minutes after their release from St. Ann's before he kissed Jessica.


Jessica skipped down the steps of the Angel Square Hotel.

Kissing Brody was every bit as exciting and new and sweet as she had hoped it would be, and that was what she focused on as she made her way home.

Someone in her life thought she was strong enough and competent enough to help him. Something in her life was right. That made it easier to face the part of her life that had gone horribly wrong. Better to walk through the door with Brody's kiss singing through her blood rather than debating whether Bree would recoil in terror at the sight of her or merely be indifferent.

It turned out that Bree split the difference. While Clint and Viki smothered Jessica with hugs, Bree clung to Natalie's leg and watched Jessica with wide eyes. With prompting, Bree approached Jessica and offered her a hug, but she didn't answer when Jessica asked about her new dress and her favorite book and whether she still had a big pile of crayons upstairs.

"Of course she does, Jessica," snapped Natalie in disgust, as if Jessica had really been asking about the household's crayon status rather than attempting to find common ground with her small daughter.

The following days were much the same. Natalie lurked around every corner, telling Jessica what Bree liked to eat and when Bree's ballet class started and whether Bree needed a nap every day. Even the books the made up Bree's collection of bedtime stories were stuffed full of notes promising that Aunt Natalie and Uncle Jared would love her forever.

For his part, Jared started to back off when Jessica had been home for about a week. Once Jessica even overheard him telling Natalie that he thought Jessica didn't show any signs of harming Bree and that Natalie should consider stepping back. They'd both promised Nash on his death bed to spend the rest of their lives protecting his children, he reminded her, and he wasn't sure that they were so much protecting Bree as confusing her.

Jessica had known that she would need to find a way to forgive and love Jared. She hadn't expected him to make it so easy.

If Chloe had lived, she decided then and there, she would have made Natalie and Jared the godparents. That would assure Natalie that she would always be close to her nieces, and it would formalize the promise Jared had already made.

Still, it was a relief when Natalie and Jared actually went to work and gave Jessica a tiny bit of breathing room. Jessica almost held Bree out of ballet class just so they would have a chance spend time together away from Natalie's prying eyes, but she reminded herself that giving Bree a reliable routine was of the utmost importance. She dropped Bree off at the dance studio and went across the street to the coffee shop to kill an hour.

She was surprised to see Marty sitting there, glaring at a cup of tea as if it had done her some grievous personal harm. Resolutely, Jessica sat beside her old friend. The tea didn't owe Marty and apology, but Jessica did.

Marty turned to look at Jessica, her face a mix of confusion and recognition. Marty's mind was still muddled as a result of her ordeal. Sometimes it seemed like Jessica knew more crazy people than sane ones.

"I don't know if you remember me," she began. "I'm Jessica. We're friends."

Marty shrugged like that was of no consequence.

"We're friends and I owe you an apology. I knew my Uncle Todd was holding you in that house and I didn't tell anyone who could help you. I didn't even tell you who he was. I was going through my own stuff, but—"

Marty snapped her fingers. "You're the one who was in the nuthouse with Wes' friend Brody."

"That's right. And I really needed to be there. If I hadn't, I never would have left you—"

Marty waved her off. "You couldn't have made me do anything if you'd tried. No one could have convinced me that Todd was anything but a saint."

"So if you'll forgive me, maybe we can be friends again? Even if you don't completely remember me?"

"As long as you don't start telling me to drop Wes and start dating John McBane of My Existence. I understand that he's perfect and heroic and everything else. I'm just not interested."

"Got it," Jessica agreed.

"Why is it so hard for everyone else to understand that? Hasn't any woman ever gotten over him before?"

"My sister Natalie did," Jessica mused. "He broke her heart, no question, but then she met Jared. I guess they'll get married sooner rather than later."

"Good for Natalie."

"John's a great guy. He really did love you, you and Cole," Jessica defended automatically. Marty's eyes narrowed. "But Wes is Brody's good friend, so I'm sure he's a great guy too."

Marty studied Jessica carefully. "So what's going on between you and Brody?"

"Nothing, really." Jessica couldn't keep a smile from spreading across her face as she remembered the last time they'd seen each other—and the kiss. "I'd really like there to be something, but the timing's wrong."

"Would he like there to be something?"

"I think he would."

"Then stop making excuses about the timing. You and I, we need to blow this tea stand, and go to a bar and get a few shots of liquid courage. Then we march right over to Brody's place and you tell him that life is short and you want to spend more of it with him. Come on." Marty hopped off of her stool and pulled Jessica by the hand.

"I can't drink, and you shouldn't," Jessica reminded Marty.

"I have to testify against your Uncle Todd and be cross-examined by his viper slut lawyer tomorrow," Marty corrected. "Drinking is the only thing I should be doing. Why can't you drink?"

"My other personality gave me Hepatitis C and I had a liver transplant," said Jessica bluntly.

Marty sighed heavily. "I guess that's a good reason not to drink. But no reason not to take Wes' cute crazy friend for a spin."

The more Jessica thought about it, the more she agreed.


In his first weeks back among the living, Brody went out a few times with Wes and once with Wes and Marty. He wrote long emails to Shane. He ate what he wanted, when he wanted it. He had bizarre and amusing encounters with his new landlord. He got a bartending job. He did a lot of pushups.

He didn't follow up with Jessica.

Brody had never been afraid to come onto a woman in his life. And he still wasn't worried about Jessica. No, he was worried about the tiny blonde girl he had never met but whose name had never been far from Jessica's lips.

Bree.

Eventually he got tired of dwelling on the subject and called the too-familiar number of St. Ann's.

The receptionist put Brody through to Dr. Levin right away, and Brody wondered how desperate he had sounded on the phone. Maybe they thought he was about to snap and hurt someone or something.

"This isn't really an emergency," Brody apologized once pleasantries had been exchanged. "It can wait until my regular session if you're busy."

"You obviously thought it was important enough to call, and we're already on the phone," Dr. Levin pointed out. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"I know that you aren't supposed to make any major life changes right away after you leave St. Ann's."

"It's important that you not take rash actions while you're still adjusting to your new life, yes," Dr. Levin agreed conversationally.

"Does that include dating?"

"Dating is fine. Eloping today with a woman you met last night would concern me."

Brody chuckled. "No eloping. It was just a kiss."

"That shouldn't be a problem."

"The problem is that she's a widow with a daughter. Considering my past, is that something I should avoid completely?"

"Do you feel like you would put the child in danger? Like you would come unglued if things did not work out between you and the mother?"

"No," said Brody. "Not at all. But I haven't actually met the daughter. I've seen pictures, that's all."

"If when you do meet her you feel like you're starting to lose control, call me. If you don't… enjoy yourself."

Brody smiled. "As simple as that?"

"As simple as that."

It was the first simple thing Brody had come across in a long time. He grabbed his coat and headed out the door. He didn't know exactly where Jessica would be, but as well-connected as she was, it wouldn't be hard to find out.

He had barely left the hotel when Wes grabbed him by the arm and asked where he was going in such a rush. Marty stood by Wes' side and smirked.

"I can tell you where you should be rushing," she said. "Our mutual friend Jessica will be at the coffee shop across the street from her kid's dance lesson for at least ten more minutes." She drew a map in the air to demonstrate the location of the coffee shop and the dance studio.

He could understand why Wes had decided to stick with Marty for a while. Marty had her uses.

TBC