Author's Note: Hello, my friends! Thanks, once again, and eternally, for all those who have been reading, reviewing, and still favoriting this story as well as Mutiny of The Brain. As I've always said, you guys are amazing and just make me want to write some more. I'm a little surprised I didn't get a call-out from JayJe for the BtVS quote (!). Also, I want to thank MollyLyn and Shiggity for always being there for my questions about Canada and Canadian culture. You'd be surprised about the little things that come-up during writing. OKAY! The Chapter(s) I've been waiting to write FOREVER! You've all been faithful, and so have I. I've put my favorite character through Hell all for this final catharsis! So, the title of this chapter actually (to be honest) came from the title the sequel to Once A Runner (probably the best running book ever written, training included; hey, I was a collegiate runner too. That crap was true.), Again to Carthage, although I've never actually read that book yet. "Again to Carthage" is originally a Shakespearian quote from Merchant of Venice. It basically means, 'back to that same old crappy suffering, or war.'
I don't own or have rights to Flashpoint, Billy Joel songs (I wish!), Sabrina, His Girl Friday, or Nerf products. Although, I think I do still have a few Nerf footballs and mini-footballs somewhere. . . Dang I miss those sweet Nerf footballs. . .
Metaphysical Marathon
Chapter 12: Again to Carthage
Jules was now officially well into her third week of recovery at the rehabilitation center. Although she felt like she was making strong strides towards understanding and defining her current state of being in hopes of reaching some level of knowledge that would help her return to her normal existence, she still felt like there was something missing. She felt there was some piece, some gnosis she needed to uncover to even come close to fully reaching her normal state of reality.
She grudgingly realized and admitted to herself that, although incredibly painful, speaking more openly in group and individual therapy was helping her face the reality she was now living through. She didn't like to have to go to those dark places, relive the past that had ultimately broken her, but she knew confrontation was the only manner by which she could exorcise her demons.
Knowing how difficult it was for herself to dive into her wrenching past in order to work passed its haunting effects, she could only guess how difficult these mental exercises were for Sean. As such, while she whole-heartedly continued to encourage him to share his story and speak his mind, she kept a careful, hawkish eye on him to make sure these little excursions into the night didn't drive him to too dark a place.
Jules and Sean were now casually strolling through the front lobby towards a large group assembly in the lounge. The therapists and nurses liked to have occasional meetings with the totality of the clients to share any new announcements and allow clients to air any grievances about the administration of the facility. Sean and Jules still had about 10 minutes before they had to be at the meeting, so thy paused in the lobby to chill around a small area of chairs.
"So, what do ya think, Jules? Should we share our grievances about the cessation of nap time?" Sean asked, initiating a conversation on the absurdity of these group assemblies. In all honesty, these meetings were worse than high school assemblies in that they allowed the clients, the lowly minions that they were, to speak, but only as lip service; the reality was, none of their suggestions were ever given any credence. At least not since Sean and Jules had been there. The clients were just given the 'opportunity' to participate in facility management as a way to feel that they had some control over the proceedings of their institutionalized lives.
"I don't know if we should waste our 'angry young man' complaints on that," Jules responded with a thoughtful look. "I'd much rather bring-up movie night. Although Astaire and Rodgers were brilliant, they might have to send Team One in here to neutralize me after going postal if I have ta see another 1940's musical." Jules actually cringed and seemed genuinely irritated by the thought having to endure another night of foot-loose bliss.
Sean snickered at her unfiltered disgust. "I know. Ginger did everything Fred did, but backwards, AND IN HEELS, but, they're totally diss'n Gene Kelly (!). And," Sean raised his hands to emphasize his false annoyance rant, "would it kill 'em to show a little Audrey Hepburn? I hear Sabrina is BRILLIANT!" His words elicited a smile from Jules.
"Knowing her, Carly probably brow-beated for the 'Astrodgers' marathon," Jules replied, inadvertently giving Astaire and Rodgers a relationship shipper name. "Speaking of Carly (With a 'C' (!))," Jules continued on another track, "I don't think she has words to express how annoyed she is that she doesn't get to monopolize at least two thirds of the conversation anymore." Jules' face lit into an evil grin. "It kind-a gives me a perverse sense of pleasure."
Sean's face fell slightly at the allusion to Jules and him speaking more openly in group therapy. Jules' grin weakened too at the realization of her own reference.
Jules redirected her features before they could become a full frown. "I gotta say, Sean, I do think we're actually getting somewhere by talk'n." She wanted to address this subject, but tread lightly as she didn't want to say anything that might discourage Sean. She smiled up at him in encouragement. "We're finally get'n somewhere, even if it's so hard sometimes."
Sean smirked and snorted at her words before quickly interjecting, "That's what she said!"
Jules couldn't help but snort and laugh herself. "Man! Get your head outta the gutter, O'Brian!" she responded through chuckles and a grin. "Once you're done with this, you need to go to a 12 step program for that; I know a nice Polish girl who could be your sponsor at Perverts Anonymous."
Sean continued to laugh at his own low humor. "Oh, pray tell, Julianna Callaghan, in what circles do you run to be privy to such knowledge and associations?"
She playfully smacked his shoulder, but grinned mischievously. "Wouldn't you like to know?" She paused to flick her eyebrows at him. "Let's just say I wasn't born with a badge stitched to my chest."
Sean jerked his head and smiled as if he was trying to visualize a literal interpretation of Jules' metaphor. Jules looked like she was on the verge of making another crack at his perverted nature when suddenly the front doors of the lobby burst open and a resounding "Everybody, DOWN ON THE GROUND!" was shouted from a gun-wielding, darkly dressed man.
Jules instinctively pushed Sean to the ground and flattened herself next to him.
No, No, No, No, No. Her mind was beginning to rebel against her.
"I want EVERYONE IN HERE NOW!" the seemingly deranged man shouted as he waved around a 9mm semi-automatic hand gun. Jules assessed how he was armed and his body language on instinct. "Everyone in HERE!" the man ordered as he grabbed a nurse to use as a hostage. "Everyone in here or this bitch gets it in the head! Just like all you NUTS deserve!" The man unsteadily held the gun to the nurse's head as he shifted from side to side in a paranoid fashion to make sure no one was sneaking-up on him. "You, you, There!" the unstable man shouted at a terrified client lying on his stomach by the now locked doors. "Close the blinds on the windows! And you two!" The subject indicated two of the orderlies, Mark and John. "You lock those hallway doors once the last people are in here." Mark and John remained still, hesitant to leave the innocent clients or turn their backs on the deranged, gun-wielding subject. "Do it, or I kill this bitch!" the subject threatened. Mark and John rose to do as they were ordered for fear of what the subject might do if they remained in their current positions.
"Nuts, crazies, lunatics. . . You're all nuts. Gonna ruin the world. Can't live, can't live, gonna ruin everything," the subject mumbled in a rant as he slightly paced with the now crying nurse in his hands at gun-point.
As the last of the people in the rehab facility (or at least the last of those the subject was made to believe were there) filtered through the two sides of the hallway and into the lobby, Mark and John locked the hallway doors. One of the last people into the lobby was Chris who walked towards Jules and Sean who were lying on the ground.
During the course of all of this action, Jules remained prone on the ground. She could feel it rising, feel that same hopelessness, fear, inexplicable unreality flooding her senses. She felt the beginning of flickers of lightning at the edge of her vision, the beginning of a haze clouding her mind.
"All of YOUR phones, ALL OF YOUR PHONES!" the subject shouted once the doors to the hallway were locked and everyone was on the ground, the nurse still clenched to him by the point of a gun. "Throw 'em in the center! NOW!" He shook his gun on the nurse's temple for emphasis of his command.
In the same motion as tossing his phone into the center of the room, Chris brought his hand to his head and pantomimed a phone to Jules. Called 9-1-1, he mouthed to her.
Fighting the haze that was trying to overwhelm her, Jules simply blinked in acknowledgement of Chris's act of valor.
XXXXX
The five men of Toronto's SRU Team One spread-out between the work-out and briefing rooms as they took a break between academic tutorials in tactics and actual drills.
It was their third day back to work after their mandatory week hiatus in which members of the department evaluated them psychologically as they were given time to evaluate themselves. Sure, it had been a tough few weeks of calls, but Sam Braddock thought how the measures taken by the department superiors were a little overkill.
"So Sammy-The-Manny, when we gonna get to see our Girl Friday, Jules, again?" Spike shouted to Sam from his seated position on a workout bench across the exercise room.
Sam smiled as he caught the un-professional mini Nerf football Spike had thrown to him after asking his question. "That depends." Sam smirked, his eyes directed towards the hallway they had last seen Dr. Luria exit from an hour ago. "Maybe Luria will have us all together for a group therapy session on our feelings about being SRU officers and force Jules to be here."
"Hhhmmppphhh. Maybe you two can have some weird form of couple's therapy," Raf snorted from the treadmill on which he was perched. He soon "Ummpphhed!" as Sam threw the mini Nerf ball hard into his gut.
Spike shook his head in Raf's direction. "Too soon, man, too soon."
Sam imagined grinding Raf into the floor with his eyes from across the room. "Rookie," he shook his head, but gave him a 'don't mess with my girl, even with a snide joke' to kill look.
"Boss!" Winnie called for Greg from her station next to the gym. "I've gotta 9-1-1 call from Sunrise Rehab."
Sam's head perked-up in concern as Greg rushed to take the phone Winnie offered him. "Boss, that's where Jules is." Sam's face was full of not fear, but determination despite the desperate set of his eyes. Both Ed and Spike slightly paled at this revelation while Raf showed a visual look of consternation; he had not been on the team long enough to learn how to hide the extent of his fear for his team-mates' lives.
Greg picked-up the phone Winnie offered him. "Hi, this is Sargent Greg Parker of the Strategic Response Unit. What can I do for you?"
There was heavy, fear laden breathing on the other line. "This is Dr. Christopher Trexner. We have a possible hostage situation at the Sunrise Rehabilitation Center." Chris, the caller, and as far as Greg knew, Jules' therapist, paused as the words 'everyone in here, or this bitch is gonna get it in the head' could be heard in the background. "I have to get in there, but there are approximately 90 people in this facility including clients and staff. I saw that at least 40 escaped through the back doors before the man demanded everyone congregate in the lobby. That's THE LOBBY!" Chris emphasized in a strong whisper. "Please get here as soon as you can." The phone clicked off before Greg could give any instruction.
Without being asked, Winnie hit the 'Hot Call' button and the SRU siren was sounded.
"Jules," Sam breathed.
"I know," Greg responded as they both ran to suit-up.
"Team One, Let's keep the peace, here!" Greg shouted as the members of the elite team raced to prepare to fulfill their callings.
XXXXXX
Jules shut her eyes, fought to remain in control. Sean grabbed her hand in comfort beside her. She fought the lightning in her head, refused to let it claim her, and opened her eyes to see Sean's encouraging face. He smiled at her and squeezed here hand.
This was the last thing Jules needed to steel her nerves for fulfilling her calling. She fought off the lightning, automatic negative thoughts, and clouds in her head and squeezed Sean's hand back in acknowledgement.
With a deep breath, Jules gathered a vestige of her self-assurance and rose with her hands held in the air.
"Hey, my name's Jules. I want to see if I can help you out."
Additional Author's Note: Yeah, Jules just stepped-up, BABY! Anyho, the thing about Perverts Anonymous came from my soul sista' Sules. We decided that we both need to go to Tweeters Anonymous, but that she probably has to go to Perverts Anonymous as well. It's okay. Larry Toth is with her. We learned this after I informed her that I saw Victor Garber playing a sex addict in Jeffery. Hopefully he can make it the week without out you, sis! Also, the thing about Sabrina came from Playergurl89. She wrote a piece called Siberia that I thought said Sabrina, and, well, all Hell broke loose. . . She may actually write a FP version of Sabrina thanks to my Idiot Savant comments.
As excited as I was for this chapter, more awesomeness is to come! Please leave a review if you're excited to see the outcome too!
Peace, love, and Santorini Skies (Akhemm, Pati!),
Eals
