Jedikiah had the phone up to his ear on the second ring. He listened for a moment. "I'm coming in."

Two panicky TP agents met him in the lobby. The normally immaculately dressed second-in-command wore jeans, a casual shirt, and a really pissed off expression.

"Did anyone check his room?" Jedikiah asked the, to him, obvious question as soon as he was in speaking range.

Blank stares quickly replaced by foolish expressions were his only answer. The two men carefully looked everywhere, but at their boss, shaking their heads, shifting their weight nervously from one foot to the other.

Jedikiah, totally disgusted, strode off towards John's room, the agents scurrying after him.

He let himself in to find John, reeking of beer, sprawled out on the bed. Jedikiah saw boots and a jacket carelessly flung on the floor while John still wore the rest of his clothes. Jedikiah roughly shook the young man awake. "Wheredja you go?"

John, startled, sat up, blinking at him. "I came here."

"Why did you leave the car?" Jedikiah demanded.

John wouldn't meet his eyes, a tell tale blush on his cheeks. "Irene got . . . well . . she . . . ah . . . let's just say she had too much to drink.

Jedikiah, hands on his hips, shook his head, looking up to the ceiling as if asking for inspiration. He walked a small circle and then to relive his feelings hauled off and slapped John hard on the side of the head.

"What? I came straight here!" John, rubbing his head where Jedikiah's blow landed, was indignant at what he felt was an undeserved punishment. "I wanted to get away from her."

Jedikiah steamed in silence for a moment and then turned to the two agents hovering in the door. "What happened in the car?"

One agent started to smirk, but Jedikiah's narrowed eyes made him quickly wipe the smile off his face. He stood straight, in an at ease posture, hands clasped in front of him. "Sir, the girl was drunk and, ah, pretty much attacked him. She unzipped his pants and well it appeared she grabbed him."

"Is it true?" Jedikiah asked the other agent.

He quickly corroborated his partner. "Sir, I was driving, but I definitely heard a zipper sound."

Jedikiah spun around to confront John again. "A girl unzips your pants and you flip? Are you crazy? The Founder will not accept that!"

"He most certainly will not."

Everyone started at the sound of that voice. The two agents stepped quickly aside to reveal a casually dressed Founder. "Bring John to the interrogation room."

"Ah sir, I don't thi—" Jedikiah was unceremoniously cut off.

"I don't care what you think. Bring him."

John sighed. "I didn't do any —"

Jedikiah's hand on his collar dragging him off the bed put a stop to his protests. He barely managed to land on his feet. When he got to the hall the two agents took over escorting him between them.

They strapped him into the hated chair while the Founder watched impassively.

"I didn't do anything. I came right here just—" His screams cut off his protests.

Jedikiah sighed putting a hand to his forehead. He had seen the Founder in this mood before, and it didn't bode well for John. He wanted to break him, had been waiting for an opportunity, and John just handed him one on a silver platter. Jedikiah's only consolation was that the Founder wouldn't have him killed.

"I di—" Again, his screams made it impossible for him to finish his sentence. Wave after wave of pain hit him until he vomited covering his chin and chest with a liquid mix of booze and stomach acid.

Only then did the Founder relent, stepping up to John probing his mind. John managed to hold on to a sense of outrage and the very real pain and dizziness he was feeling. He made them his whole world, filling his mind with those sensations.

The Founder frowned, turning to Jedikiah. "Nothing."

Jedikiah threw up a hand. "This situation should never have deteriorated enough for this to happen." He pointed at the two TP agents. "Your sole responsibility tonight was to monitor those two. You couldn't keep a teen age girl from getting too drunk and molesting an . . . an . . . an immature idiot?" Jedikiah was furious with both them and John.

Jedikiah's cell phone rang. Looking at the screen, he frowned and curtly answered it. "Report."

He listened for several moments and then held the phone away from his mouth. "I sent a TP to interrogate the girl. He says she vomited all over him and herself and then" —he made a face— "pissed herself. He also says he can't get anything from her mind except a spinning room and a wish to die. Apparently the puking is going to go on for awhile."

The Founder waved a dismissive hand at Jedikiah who turned back to the phone. "That's all." He disconnected and then asked, "Are we done here?"

"Not quite." The Founder attacked John again until he passed out. He walked over, slapping John's cheek until he woke up. He ran a casual finger down the side of John's face.

"So, John, do we teleport without permission?"

"No, Sir." John, eyelids fluttering, moaned.

The Founder smiled. "Now that's progress. I didn't even have to remind you to add the 'Sir'."

He turned to Jedikiah. "Now, we're done here." He wrinkled his nose as he looked over the vomit covered shirt. "I think you going to have to hose him down. Oh, and Doctor Price I agree with your assessment of the situation.

He held Jedikiah's eyes until he saw an understanding nod and then left.

"Watch him while I get some help." Jedikiah spoke to the two agents. He left and came back with three human agents. One of them had a pistol drawn and the two agents barely had time to register the fact that they were trapped in the power suppressing room before he killed them.

Jedikiah grabbed John by the chin. "I work to get you to the point where things aren't that bad, and then you blow it. How many times do we have to go through this?"

Jedikiah nodded to the other two humans. "Take him back to his room."

Late that night John woke feeling a nudge at the edge of his mind. He allowed the connection.

"Are you okay John?" Irene's mental voice was worried.

"I'll live. You sound alright."

"You don't. I'm sorry. I've been prepared for a long time now. I gave myself a shot of a vomit inducing agent as soon as I got home and swallowed some booze. Flushed the needle down the toilet. Had the booze in a mouthwash bottle. I deliberately wet my pants and puked on the TP who came to question me. Figured it would really gross him out." Irene stopped. "Seriously you don't feel good."

"The Founder never passes up a chance to show me who's boss. I made his day." John truly felt terrible but did his best to not make Irene anxious.

"I'm sorry. Sorry it always ends up being you that pays."

"That's not true. The girls have paid their share."

"But that hurts you too." She hesitated. "Ah yeah, the girls. Let them know that I made the most of what my mother got to me. They'll know what I mean."

John rolled over on his back. "So everyone's in the know but me."

"Sorry, but you're the one who faces the Founder over and over again. We need you to know as little as possible. It's safer for you and us."

John couldn't keep the bitterness out of his thoughts. "Yeah, good little puppet. Let the Founder kick you. Kill when we need you too. Jump when we ask. But we can't trust you."

"Sor—I keep saying that don't I? Over and over again. And it doesn't help you. But you are appreciated. Never forget that.

John closed off the connection. "Yeah. Right. I need to sleep."