Chapter 25: Situations

She can't behave, and I'm just a slave.
Don't worry, I'll be gone when the morning comes!
Darling, what it going on?
Honestly, that never happened.
Lying is your latest fashion!
~Escape The Fate

When I got back to the BPRD, I couldn't even begin to tell you how upset Manning was. Like, I'm serious here – the man looked like he was going to explode.

"WHO THE HELL TOLD YOU THAT YOU GET TO LEAVE?"

"Um . . . . no one? I went home for the weekend, dude – had kids to see."

He had called me into his office as soon as I stepped onto the base, which I wasn't too worried about – I was more worried about the shade of purple his face was turning. He's getting up in age, you see, and I don't think it's healthy for him to turn eggplant purple anymore.

"THEN YOU ASK ME TO LEAVE, DAMMIT!"

I winced at the high pitch of his voice. Damn, I didn't think that he'd get this pissed. Hell, I'm almost scared here.

"Just calm down, m'kay?" I said slowly. "I'm sorry, alright? Won't leave the place without your permission again. Promise."

This seemed to calm him down a bit – at least he went to being red instead of purple. "You'd better!" he snapped. "Or you're out on your ass, Jink!"

I nodded, properly chastised. "Totally cool," I said. "Again, sorry."

"You should be."

.

.

I was put back on assignment as soon as the little pow-wow was over. Three guesses on who, and the first two don't count.

"'S gonna be fun," I muttered sarcastically.

"What was that?" Abe asked.

"Nothin', bro. Just needed to remind myself something." Yeah, that if I killed him, I was gonna go in the Pokey.

"Oh." He went back to looking at the mission folder. I refused to look at the thing. Because seriously, if I knew what I was facing beforehand, then all I'd be able to think about was how I could feed Abe to it.

Don't think wrong of me here – I still love Abe like a brother. But the fact that he's starting to associate my leavings with Hellboy's . . . well, it stings more than it has the right to. I try to ignore most of the jibs from folks, but that one's still smarting, and until it stops Abe's on my shit list.

"You ready for this?" he asked.

"Sure," I sighed.

I'm guessing he sensed that I was either still upset with him, or that I just didn't want to talk, because he stopped talking to me. Fantastic.

I was nothing like Hellboy. I stayed. Well, I left for a while, but I came back. I'm helping around here. And where is he? He told Kate something about Africa, but that's one hell of a continent. One does not just stroll into Africa, has to be a plan in place. Which I have no time for. I barely have time for family here.

I got lost for a few moments, wondering what the girls and Daimio were getting up to, so I was quite surprised when the little plane landed. Then it was just a short van-ride to the gig.

Really, I didn't know what I was expecting when we showed up. Frogs? Boogeymen?

No. Another fucking ghost. Ever since that fucking fiasco with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named (not ol' Voldy – the other bastard. You know who I speak of), I totally and completely refuse any gig featuring ghosts. Or anything corporeal.

So how the fuck did I end up here?

A man in his mid-thirties with thin brown hair was standing on the front porch of a large, decrepit mansion that easily looked like something Scarlett O'Hara might live in. The man was staring at his watch and uneasily shifting from foot to foot.

When he saw me and Abe pile out of the van, he threw his arms up in the air in a combination of relief and exasperation. "Finally!" he called. "I called you guys, like, hours ago!"

I rolled my eyes.

He looked from me to Abe and back to me. "Where's the big guy?" he asked. "Red? Tail? Horns?"

"Hellboy?" Abe asked slowly.

"That's him!"

"No longer affiliated with the BPRD."

Then he looked at me. "And who the hell is this?" he demanded, pointing at me. "Where's the other chick? The one who throws fire?"

"Missing," Abe said. I was too angry to say anything, so thank God that Abe was there. Otherwise, the guy might've been missing a key point in his anatomy.

"Well that's just great!" he said. "I was expecting the dream team here, ya know? Not just whoever was handy!"

I was gonna jump the guy. Yep. Just decided it. Man's gonna die. Just as I was about to make my move, Abe lay a hand on my shoulder.

"We can always leave, Mr. Bennet," Abe said calmly.

"But I need help!" he nearly shouted. "Who else is going to get rid of this damn ghost?"

This was mine. "Ghostbusters?" I suggested. "Maybe TAPS? Hear those guys got cheaper rates than us, anyways."

"And better people skills," Abe added.

"Totally," I agreed. Damn, this was some of the most fun I've had all day. I had to stop myself from smiling.

"But they're not you!" Mr. Bennet was practically throwing a temper tantrum. His face was getting close to the same shade of purple Manning's had been only that morning. "I want you!"

"Naw thanks," I waved him away and turned back to the van. "C'mon, Abe, let's rock this pop stand."

Rayne could recall the feel of someone else's fist hitting her face only once before – back when she was eight, by her father. And right afterwards, her mother had beat off the guy with a bat and called the cops. She had been expecting it, actually – the man was insane.

But this? This was unexpected. This was unwanted. All she had said was that she didn't feel like Chinese food that afternoon. And then Aaron's fist came out of nowhere and smashed into her cheek hard enough to swell and cause a small tear to leak out of her eye.

"See what you made me do?" he snapped. "Jesus Christ, woman, I don't need to hit you, but look at the shit you do!"

She wanted to cry out, to say something against this, but within the next moment his arms were around her and he was whispering gently in her ear, "Baby, I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean to hit you. I'm just so frustrated with work right now, and I just took it out on you, and I'm so sorry."

He did seem agitated when he picked her up from the library (which had become their daily meeting place after class). He hadn't said anything when she asked him about it, and he was pretty much on edge all afternoon.

"It's okay," she said at last. "Don't worry. If you want, I'll walk down the road and get us some."

"No, we'll go together," he said quickly. "And I'll buy."

Rayne smiled, ignoring the slight twinge of pain in her cheek. All was forgiven.

"Dammit, Zora, I need my money!"

Zane's voice through the cellphone was still quite loud in her ear. "I hear ya, bro. And I'm gonna get it to ya Sunday, alright?"

"Look, sweetheart, Gerald's callin' in my bettin' debts, so I'm callin' in yours. And if I ain't got that half-grand buy tomorrow, then I get to talk it out on your ass."

The very idea made Zora's very bones freeze. She'd seen what Zane would do to those who didn't pay in their debts – he wouldn't just stop at her ass on this one.

"Look, man, my money's not gonna be here until Saturday," she said. "And I can't get out until Sunday. So it's gonna have to wait."

"Trust me, kid, it won't. I know where you live, and I will find you, ya hear?"

"Loud n' clear, Zane." She paused for a moment. "If I get you half tomorrow, can I get the rest to you Sunday?"

He stopped in thought, for which she was glad – it was one o'clock in the morning, and everyone was freakin' asleep. If that Army-AWOL found her on the phone this late/early, then Zane wouldn't have to look hard to find her – she'd be buried in a shallow grave.

"Alright, only once, okay?" Zane said. "We can't make this a long-drawn-out thing."

"You'll get your money. Don't worry, Zane – I ain't got a death wish."

"I ain't so sure of that, kid – if you were smart, you woulda had the money today."

"I already told you – my money ain't comin' in until Saturday, late Friday if I'm lucky."

"Who is your money, girl?"

"Oh, this chick I'm staying with. She's totally freakin' loaded, too. But she works during the week and don't stay here, so I have to wait until Saturday when she's back."

"Nice. Just don't get caught."

"I'm too good for that, Zane. You know that." She hung up on him after that and turned back to Jessi's backpack. Jessi still had the cash that Jink had given her – and she wouldn't miss it. Would she? Psh, naw. She needed this money more than Jessi needed new yarn.

Jessi couldn't figure out for the life of her how she got sick. Maybe some bug from school? Or the yarn shop? Who the hell knew?

She gave another phlegmy cough and curled up into a ball underneath the blankets she stole from everyone. She was at a loss here – she was so cold, but she'd wake up from her small naps she'd get instead of real sleep to find that she not only sweat through her clothes but the sheets on her bed as well. It had pissed her off at first, but being pissed took too much energy. So she just settled with being somewhat upset.

But why was she so cold? She'd taken her temperature this morning and later in the afternoon, and it was sticking to around 101.3.

This sucked. She just got used to life without Mom and Dad and her siblings and her dogs and her books. And now she was fucking sick. This was annoying.

Her knees started to bother her, so she started to stretch out. Her knees screamed in protest of the move, so she pulled them back into her chest. It just wasn't fair.

When she was younger, whenever she got sick Mom would stay home from work and sit with her. They'd get to hang out and talk, and it was always comforting to have Mom just stroke her hair or rub her leg or just be there. When she got older, Mom stopped staying home, claiming that Jessi could watch herself. That was when she knew her childhood was over.

At that moment, she would've given anything to go back to being eleven, when she could stay home and Mom would stay home and make her feel better.

And the worst part about all this? She was in the middle of reading The Stand, and now she was sick. God, every time she read that book she got some psycho-sematic cold that made her think she had Captain Trips. That's all this was, right? Just another mind-cold.

It had to be.

The woods were a calming influence, for which Daimio was quite glad – if it had been agreed on to stay in the city, he would've gone insane. The silence would've been deafening to any other person; he relished the lack of noise. It let him think better.

The girls were getting out of hand. Rayne came home late one night with a huge bruise on her cheekbone, eyes red-rimmed from crying, and a hickie low on her neck. He saw Zora stealing money of of Rayne's purse, and saw her eyeing his wallet. And Jessi's caught some sort of bug and refused to leave her room except for the toilet.

He didn't talk to any of them. They were strangers forced together by happenstance. They had no business with him, and vice versa. He wasn't their father, he wasn't their friend, they barely knew each other. The only thing they had in common with each other was Jink.

And really, what sort of right did Jink have leaving three girls with him? He wasn't some fucking babysitter.

If he was in his right mind, he would leave. Screw Jink, screw the kids, gone. Back to Canada. But every time he entertained the thought, all he could think about was the look in Jink's eyes when she accused him of leaving, back on Offut. She was angry, yes, but there was something else in her eyes – desperation? Anxiety?

He couldn't just leave. He just . . . couldn't. Not while knowing that his leaving led to her last meltdown. He'd move on eventually – just not while she needed him.

Some tiny part of him whispered that he stayed because he needed her as much as she needed him, but he refused to believe it. He cared about her, true enough, but he did not need her to be happy. He didn't need her for anything, except maybe a roof over his head. And even then, he could get one if he wanted to go out and get a job. But he was fine with letting her go back to that hellhole. Just fine. She wanted to do it after all – he didn't persuade her.

He just hoped to God that someone had her back – because if she got hurt, then God's wrath wouldn't even begin to cover it.

Hey boys and girls! Anyone missed me? I know Markey did – I already know that you got your eye on me. I'M TRYING TO GET THROUGH THIS, MAN. I AM. AND THEN WE'LL SHALL DO AS PLANNED.

Rawr! I've had so much stuff for college! This is seriously the first time I haven't had homework –ish. I have two different papers I need to edit and print out. *sigh* Hopefully, this is good, da?

I HAVE A DEMAND FOR THIS REVIEW: Everyone must leave a song. You heard me. Leave me a song you'll think I'll like, and if I like it, you'll see it featured for a chapter – PLUS a thank-you note in the chapter AND in your inbox!

I can has song?And reviews? Puh-leeez?

~Cap'n Z