Chapter 13

"ERIC!" "RED!" "Jackie!" "Michael…" So many names were being shouted into the night. He could hear them, but they were muffled and coming from many different voices. He struggled against the blackness, the sleep that was pressing on his brain. Wake up. Wake. Up. Get up. You need to do this. Get up.

Amina had bolted from the couch as soon as she heard the first gunshot. She didn't feel anything but terror that the other half of her soul was in danger. She ran straight towards the sound of death and screamed for her fiancée, "ERIC!"

Eric was lying on the floor next to a prone figure. He looked up at the sound of her voice and held up a hand as if to say both "I'm fine." and "Wait, don't come closer." all in one gesture. She halted her movement and watched the flurry of activity in the kitchen.

The second gunshot had shaken Kitty from her reverie. She wasn't used to gunshots. The first hadn't registered with her as she sat pondering the rehab options for Steven. The second, however, was enough to kick her in the ass. She had run the same path as Amina, silently cursing her older age. "RED!" she screamed, needing to hear him reassure her that he was alright. No answer came.

She rounded the hedge and saw two bodies on the floor. One she'd known since he was a child, one was completely foreign to her. Red stood over the second, his revolver aimed at the man's head and he motioned for Kitty to attend to Michael.

She hit the floor and heaved Michael's body over. Her mind went into overdrive as she assessed and triaged the situation. This is not good. Work faster Kitty. Give him a chance.

He sat up so fast his head felt like it had become detached from his body. His legs felt shaky, like they wouldn't support him. He squinted in the darkness and found his bearings. Pulling himself upright he hobbled to the door and slowly made his way through the brightly lit house. He had felt a fear he didn't know existed. He was sure it was real, though, or telling him that something real was happening.

He followed the sounds and noises across the driveway to Donna's kitchen. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, her pink plaid flannel pajamas soaked in blood was… "Jackie!"

Her head turned slowly, eyes glassy from shock. Their gazes locked and he fell onto the floor next to her. Searching her for signs of injury he asked frantically, "Baby, where are you hurt? You need to tell me. Jackie?"

She looked at him and gestured to the floor beside her, where two men lay on the linoleum. "Michael…" she whispered and sunk her head onto his shoulder.

"Fez," barked Kitty, "Get me some towels. Eric, call the ambulance and the police. Amina, I need you to apply pressure right here."

Eric dialed the number for police dispatch and relayed the need for police and paramedics. Within minutes he heard the whine of sirens grow closer. Thank God for small towns. He watched as his fiancée deftly maneuvered her fingers around Kitty's as they attempted to staunch the bleeding and keep Kelso's heart from failing. The two women looked like superheroes to him. They were so calm, so efficient, so determined in their movements. Nothing seemed to faze them.

A policeman entered the room and ordered Red to drop his weapon. Red complied and put his hands over his head. As the cop moved into the room with his weapon fixed on Red, Eric waved at him to let him know he was the one who called. Officer Itchy McTriggerFinger, however, seemed more skittish than a wildebeest at the edge of the Nile. He kept swinging his gun from Eric to Red to Fez to Jackie and Hyde and back again.

"Son, if you keep doing that you're gonna kill somebody," drawled a deep slow voice from the door. Kelso's old training supervisor, Officer Kennedy was on the scene.

"Sergeant Kennedy!" said the twitchy officer, snapping to attention with his gun still in his hand. His right hand reflexively shot up to his forehead in a salute and the gun fired off a round that missed Red by an inch. Red rolled his eyes, but kept his hands on his head. That dumbass is going to kill me, but a Japanese sniper missed twice. Really funny, God.

Sergeant Kennedy strode over to the man and snatched his gun out of his still saluting hand. "Give. Me. That." He snarled at the red-faced patrolman. "Officer Crawford, return to your vehicle and do not move from the front seat." He rolled his eyes and motioned for Red to put his arms down. "Get those paramedics in here! NOW!" he roared as Crawford retreated into the night.

The paramedics rushed in and loaded Kelso onto a stretcher as Kitty continued chest compressions. One of them gently took Amina's hand away from the wound and told her, "We've got it from here. You did a great job." Amina nodded and stepped back. The stretcher was wheeled away and everyone looked down at the enormous pool of blood that had been laying underneath Kelso.

"Okay, Mr. Foreman," said Sergeant Kennedy, "What happened?"

Red gave his explanation, gesturing to the prone figure by his feet. Sergeant Kennedy looked at Jackie and she nodded her agreement. She filled in the events leading up to the shooting and handed him the note that was still laying on the counter. Her voice was flat, her face paler by the minute. Steven watched her explain the moment where she grabbed the bat and sent the man's head into orbit. He smiled to himself. She's no wallflower. Guy must've set her off somehow.

Sergeant Kennedy listened and finally said, "This all seems pretty straight to me. You'll have to come downtown to give formal statements. Mr. Foreman, we'll need your gun for ballistics. I'll have my guys fingerprint and ID this man and hopefully we'll have this closed in a few days. Now I suggest you all clean up and get down to the hospital. I've got to go explain to the Captain why Officer Lance Crawford will be embarking on remedial training. I can't believe they let him graduate because his mother made them a peach cobbler!" He strode off into the night and everyone looked around at each other.

Amina let out a small gasp. "That man!" she said, pointing at the dead intruder, "I know him!"

Five sets of eyes snapped to Amina. "What?" spluttered Eric, "How? Who is he, Amina?"

"I don't know his name!" she cried, "He was at the hospital this morning, He was looking for Bob! He was so kind when I was trying to ask questions about the alcoholic center for Steven…" she trailed off. "I told him we had a neighbor named Bob. He described him so well, I thought they must be close. Eric, I am so sorry!" She looked horrified at her naïveté.

Eric put his arms around her and stroked her hair. "It's not your fault, honey. You couldn't have known."

Steven was still slumped on the floor. He wasn't sure if he could move from his current position even if he wanted to. He tugged on the hem of Jackie's flannel top. She sank down and looked at his face. His left eye was bruised badly, and his complexion had a noticeable yellow hue. She placed her hands on either side of his face and drew him into her. She rested his head on her shoulder and wrapped him in her arms. He lifted his arms and wrapped them as tightly as he could around her waist. He wanted to stay in this place forever.

"Jackie, are you hurt at all?" she heard Red ask.

She shook her head and remembered she was covered in blood. She moved to pull away from Steven, but he held her fast. "Steven, I need to change my shirt. I'll be right back."

He let her go and watched her walk through the kitchen door. He was sure he wouldn't resume breathing until she came back.

"Steven," said Red, warningly, "Don't push yourself right now. You aren't in any condition to make any sudden moves." The double meaning behind his words shining through clearly.

Jackie came back in, wearing a faded black T-shirt. She went straight to Fez and spoke quietly just to him for a few moments. He nodded and left the kitchen. She knelt down next to Steven again and said, "Come on, Steven. Let's get you back to bed. You need your rest." She put his arm around her neck and slipped her other arm around his waist. Squatting down low she steadied him as they rose up from the floor.

"Lije," Amina called to her, "what can I do to help?" She looked almost afraid of Jackie's response. Her guilt was overwhelming.

"Could you call Brooke and let her know to get Betsy and start driving?" Jackie said, in the kindest voice she could muster. She knew her sweet friend was feeling guilty, and she really didn't blame her for anything. This was an incredibly weird situation, but her concerns were for Steven and Michael, and right now those two were in a tight race for first.

"Right away," Amina whispered and as she passed Jackie grabbed her hand and pulled her in for a quick hug. "This was not your fault. I don't even know why anyone would want to hurt Bob!"

Amina gave her a small smile and hurried next door to call Brooke. Jackie tugged on Steven's belt loop with her left hand and they slowly walked back to the Foreman's house.

"I can make it, Jacks," Steven said, using her old nickname, "I'm not helpless. Just detoxing."

"I'm well aware of that Steven," she said, "but now would be the worst time for you to pick a fight with me." She didn't look at him when she said it, but he could hear the seriousness in her voice. There wouldn't be a romantic or friendly make-up tonight.

"Thanks, Jacks," he said, "for helping me." They had made it to Laurie's bedroom and she opened the door. They walked to the bed, him still supported by Jackie's tiny frame, and he crawled under the covers. Amina came in and let Jackie know she'd phoned Brooke.

"She will be here in a few hours. I will meet her at the hospital and bring Betsy back here," she told Jackie, "Is there anything else I can do?"

Jackie shook her head. She looked at the bag of medications that Kitty had left by Steven's bed. A small notepad on the bedside table had "Ativan 1mg 1:00, need IV Dose2". She wasn't sure what it meant, but if she had to take a guess it was what Kitty had given him this afternoon. She looked up at Amina, "Hey Amina, wait! Can you ask Kitty what this means when you go to the hospital? If Steven needs regular medication I don't want to miss doses."

Amina nodded and took the notepad from Jackie. She left, closing the door quietly behind her. Jackie smiled briefly at Hyde and motioned for him to get comfortable. She grabbed a blanket from the closet and curled up on the chair. They sat in silence for several long minutes.

"Jacks?" Steven said.

"Hmmm?" she answered in reply.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I know this must be hard for you."

"No, Steven, it isn't. That's what makes it so dangerous."

"How so?"

She sighed and leaned forward, resting her forehead in her palms, "Because Steven, it's too easy for me to love you and want to help you. It's too easy for me to justify dropping out of school to come back here and help you through this. It's too easy for me to follow my heart and convince myself that as long as I love you, we will be okay."

She paused and lifted her head from her hands and looked him directly in the eyes. "When the truth of the matter is that in the long run, the only thing that will change is that I will be right back where I started a year and a half ago. I will be desperately trying to reach you while you pull away. So yes, Steven, if this were harder for me it would be better. I wouldn't feel nearly so tempted to follow my heart."

Steven tried to process her words, but the only ones that sunk in were "love" and "help". She still loves me. I still have a chance.

"Jacks," he started, "I'm going to get clean, I swear. It'll be different this time…"

"You're damn right it will." In the doorway stood WB. He looked sternly at Hyde, then motioned for Jackie to come towards him. He pulled her into a tight hug and then held her at arm's length, surveying her critically. "You've lost weight, kiddo. Aren't you eating anymore?"

Jackie rolled her eyes and clutched the blanket around her shoulders. "I'm fine, WB, really. I'm just going to crash on the couch for a bit until Kitty calls." She walked out and WB fixed Steven with an icy stare.

"Quite the mess you've made here, son," he started off, "Sleep with a psycho, she burns down the one store I can't afford to rebuild, then you go on a 5 month bender and end up dragging half the town into a search and rescue party for you."

"WB, I am so sorry man," Hyde said, feeling terrible at the words his father hurled at him. "Believe me, I didn't ask for them to come."

"But you knew they would, son! You knew she'd drop everything that meant anything to her just for you. Now, all the rest I can forgive, but using your problems to lure her back so you can fulfill your own wants and needs?" WB shook his head sadly. "Son, you have got so much growing up to do I don't know if it's possible in the 60 or so years you have left on this earth."

WB walked over the empty chair and sat, pulling it closer to the bed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small photo from his wallet. WB and Angie were easily recognizable, the woman in the photo was dark-skinned and beautiful and unknown to him.

"My Louise," he said simply, "she was my whole world once upon a time. Jackie reminds me a lot of Louise. Feisty, smart as a whip, pretty driven too. The day she left this world I felt like my soul had gone with her. I didn't think I'd ever recover. Nearly didn't, if I'm being honest, but I found a reason to try harder and be better. I'm not gonna lie and tell you I didn't sink into this same booze-soaked barrel you've fallen into. I sure as hell did. I partied, drank, and slept with random women all over Wisconsin. I did it all to 'ease my broken heart', and that way of thinking helped me ruin a young woman's life."

"Angie seems fine to me," quipped Steven, "Maybe a little nerdy-"

"Not Angie," interrupted WB, clearly not in the mood for levity, "I'm talking about Edna. See, I was only concerned with my feelings, my well-being, easing my pain, forgetting my troubles. I didn't even care that there was a young lady, talented and pretty, who was trying to make a connection with me. I used her to my own ends and didn't think about her again. I won't take responsibility for all her mistakes, but Lord knows I certainly contributed my fair share."

"And that," he continued, "is exactly what I won't let you do to Jackie. Someday, if you get your act together, her strength is going to be enough to pull you up without pulling her down."

"How?" asked Steven.

"Beg your pardon?" replied WB.

"How do I get to that place, man?" he asked, defeat laced in his voice, "How do I start being good enough for her?"

"First, you fix this problem with the bottle. Then, and this is the hard part Steven, you are going to have to do what she's doing now."

"What," Steven spouted incredulously, "go to college? That's the key to fixing me?"

WB shook his head slowly, "No, Steven, don't think so literally. She's out there, testing her capabilities, doing something new, completely aware that she might fail and refusing to let it stop her from trying. She's finding her strength. You need to do the same. Then, I'm fairly certain you'll reach the same conclusion she has."

"What's that?" Steven asked warily.

"That you were always good enough for her, but instead of admitting that you weren't perfect, that maybe you needed her help or love; you chose to try and make her as insecure as you felt."

Jackie covered her mouth and leaned back against the wall outside Laurie's room. She didn't think she could take much more tonight. She wanted so badly to run into the room and tell him that she loved him, that she'd never leave him, that she'd… Her thoughts stopped dead at WB's words. He was right, so right. Steven wasn't in that place yet. He would get there, she hoped, but running to him now would only do more harm than good.

She needed to let him be his own man, before he could be hers.

Standing quietly, she crept back down the staircase to the couch in the living room. Trying to find another destination for her one-track mind, she latched on to the intruder in Bob's house. Why was he looking to kill Bob and Donna? Who was he? HOLY SHIT! WHERE WAS RANDY?

Jackie jumped up and ran next door. A patrolman by the back door stopped her as she tried to enter the house. "Hang on, Miss," he said calmly, "we're still processing the crime scene."

"But my friend," she said, though she hardly knew Randy, "I forgot he was in here! Do you know where they took him?"

"The guy with the gunshot wound?" the officer asked.

"No," she said, "there was a guy by the staircase. I think he was knocked out when we fell down."

The officer looked at her and said, uncomfortably, "Uh, Miss, they took him to the County Morgue. He had a hunting knife buried to the hilt in his ribcage…"

Fucking great. I killed Randy. Jackie nodded at the officer and returned to the house. She had barely known him, and truthfully, she wasn't all that torn up about his absence now. It was tearing her up that, but for her actions, he might still be alive. He was someone's son, and he hadn't done a thing to hurt her- not that she knew of. She slipped beneath the blanket and shut her eyes. Tears burned her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She dearly hoped that this night would end soon, and end with happy news.

Point Place Hospital

Kitty had changed into a spare uniform from her locker and was waiting on Dr. Cloak to update her. Clutching the hot coffee in her hands, she glanced up at the clock. It was just past 3:00 in the morning. Amina had joined her just after midnight, filling her in on the aftermath of the police arrival.

Kitty had wanted to laugh at the peach cobbler remark, but laughter hadn't yet returned to her. She was overcome with worry for Michael. His family was so young, so new; he deserved a chance to see his babies grow up. Amina had also handed her the notepad and this reminded Kitty that she needed some supplies for home.

"Tina," she asked the nurse at the nearest station, "would you mind if I borrowed a few saline bags from the supply room? I need to set up an IV stand at home for one of the kids."

"No problem, Kitty," said Tina, "Help yourself. Let me know if you need any 'extras'."

Kitty smiled and headed towards the supply room. No medications were kept in here, just basic supplies. Saline bags, IV stands, bed pans and the like were stacked to the ceiling. She grabbed a canvas bag off the wall and loaded it with everything she'd need to treat Steven for a week. She was pretty sure she had enough benzo for Steven. If not, she'd have to ask one of the resident doctors for a refill. They trusted her enough to know she wouldn't ask if it wasn't necessary.

Back in the waiting room, Brooke had rushed in. Betsy was fast asleep on her shoulder, drooling in the exact same manner her father did. She spotted Amina and hurried over. "Amina! How is he? Where is he? Is he okay?"

Amina gently took Betsy from Brooke and rubbed her little back. "We haven't heard anything yet, Brooke. The doctors are still treating him. I think they said he would go to surgery right away."

Kitty had seen Brooke and dashed up to meet her. "Oh sweetheart," she said, pulling Brooke into a hug, "I am so sorry. A man snuck into Bob's house and attacked Jackie! He was going to shoot her, but Michael jumped in the way!"

Brooke sank into a chair and tried to breathe slowly and deeply. Willing the bile in her throat to stay down she asked, "How bad is it, Kitty? Don't dumb it down. Tell me everything."

Kitty nodded and sat next to her, "The bullet travelled through his right lung and liver before exiting. It missed his heart and his spinal cord. He lost a lot of blood, but we got him here pretty quick."

Brooke nodded and rested her head on Kitty's shoulder, "He has to be okay, Mrs. Foreman. He has to be."

Amina stood up and asked, "Brooke, should I take Betsy to the Foreman's now? I can stay with her, and update the rest of the family."

Brooke looked up at Amina gratefully, "Yes, please. Thank you Amina. Do you need my car? It has her carseat and all her things in it."

Amina nodded, "I think that would be best. Here are the keys for the Vista Cruiser, in case you need it."

"Oh, Amina, here are the supplies for Steven. If you hang on I can write down directions for the IV…" said Kitty.

"No need, Mrs. Foreman," she smiled briefly, "I know how already. I used to change my grandmother's all the time. One milligram every 6 hours, yes?"

Kitty was a little taken aback. They sure raised ladies differently in Yugoslavia! "Um, yes, I mean… give him one milligram if he starts to shake and one milligram at night, but not less than 6 hours apart. Does that make sense?"

"Perfectly," said Amina. She grasped Brooke's hand briefly and swung the bag of supplies onto her other shoulder. "Call us when Michael wakes up," she said, injecting what hope and optimism she could into the two ladies.

They waved to her and she strode out of the hospital, gently bouncing her heels to keep the child asleep. When she pulled into the driveway she saw Fez leaning on the hood of his car. He looked up at her car and ran to help her retrieve Betsy and the bags. Quickly and quietly they stole into Red's library and set up Betsy's playpen that Kitty kept for special visits. Fez had pilfered an extra set of blankets from Eric's room and he folded them up to make a soft nest for Betsy. Amina laid her down gently and they crept from the room.

Fez motioned towards the dining room and Amina followed. "Eric fell asleep a few hours ago. I don't want to wake him up," said Fez, "and Jackie is asleep on the couch. I wanted to wait for you before I went back to my apartment. How is he?"

"Michael is still in the surgery room," she said, "and Kitty said she wants to stay until they are finished."

Fez closed his eyes and brought his hands together in a gesture of prayer. He whispered words Amina didn't understand, and then opened his eyes again. "You should get some sleep, too, Amina. Thank you for helping save my best friend." He gave her a hug and then turned to leave, not caring one bit who might see him crying.

Dr. Cloak came out of the OR still sweating. It had been a rough night. The young man's wound had been especially difficult owing to the bullet's trajectory. Each time a bleed was cauterized a new one seemed to appear. It was like playing a perverse game of Whack-A-Mole.

Kitty, spotting her old boss, ran to meet him when he pushed open the doors to the waiting room. Brooke followed not half a step behind her and stopped just short of Dr. Cloak's nose. Stepping back she looked at him imploringly, "How is my hus- ? How is Michael?"

"Mr. Kelso made it through surgery," he said, "but the next 24 hours are absolutely critical for him. We'll keep him heavily sedated to give his body the best chance at healing. If he makes it through, I see no reason that he won't make a full recovery."

Brooke nearly fainted with relief. Gripping Kitty's shoulder, she clapped a hand over her mouth and stifled a sob. Kitty hugged Dr. Cloak and then Brooke. Her basement brood was all okay for now.

"Can I sit with him?" asked Brooke.

"I've had him placed in a private room in ICU. We'll have a cot moved in there for you in a few minutes," Dr. Cloak offered graciously. The old man was a softie when it came to the Kelso family. He'd been treating all of them for decades, and they never ceased to amaze him.

Brooke squeezed Kitty's hand and turned to collect her things. Tina the nurse was waiting to take her back to Michael's room.

Dr. Cloak turned to Kitty, "Now normally I'd guess that Michael shot himself on accident, being a Kelso, but the angle of entry and exit doesn't match. So what on earth happened?"

Kitty tried to explain it as best she could. She'd been so focused on Michael she really hadn't listened to the other conversations taking place.

"Huh!" Exclaimed the doctor, "If I didn't know better, I'd say someone put a hit out on Bob Pinciotti!" he chuckled and shook his head at the idea.

As he walked away, the wheels in Kitty's head began to creep forward. She filed the notion away for a later time, but she had started to wonder if Point Place held more secrets beneath its small town veneer than she ever realized.