Oh my gosh, thank you so much for the reviews. I appreciate your involvement in and encouragement of this story more than you'll know. Mariel3, you're right I was cruel. ;) But I'll continue writing soon after I post this chapter! anmodo, Katerina1, whiterose01, asd, and Laura B - I'm so glad you approve!
(x)
When Danny got into his car, he had little idea as to where he was headed. The truth was that it didn't matter. What mattered was that he was out of there, out of the factory's suffocating fumes and away from the anger that would have stolen his sanity had he stayed any longer. He drove for a long time, through city streets that he knew as well as the lines of his face and down side streets that he had never seen before in his life. He drove aimlessly, all with the thoughts of Jason and Jordan running rampant through his mind. Perhaps it was the relentless thoughts of the children. Maybe it was his deep-seated need for the familiar. Either way, Danny wound up in the same place he always did when he found himself with nowhere else to go.
He parked the car alongside the curb in front of St. Luke's orphanage. A collection of leaves bristled against the ground, and a cold gale of wind kicked them up in tiny tornadoes around his feet. Shivering, he trudged up the steps to the entrance, clutching his coat close to his body. The door to the convent slammed behind him, bringing an abrupt end to the wind howling from outside. He removed his winter coat and stepped into the main section of the convent.
He walked as if in a dream, taking in the faded taupe-painted walls and the dime-a-dozen Monet-look-alikes that lined the hallway as if seeing them for the very first time. His work shoes clumped against the hard oak floorboards, echoing throughout the hallways. Danny wondered why he had never noticed the sound before, and then it hit him. The orphanage had never been this quiet before. The walls had gone eerily silent, as if every familiar and comforting sound had disappeared along with the Coliandris.
He turned the corner, and another set of footsteps contrasted his. Dignified, confident steps clip-clopped toward him and stopped. Danny raised his eyes, but he didn't need them to tell who was there.
Sr. Rachel stared at him, eyes widened, her mouth gaping open. Her short heels tapped softly, uncertainly against the wooden floor, until she was only inches away from his face. Her eyes looked up and then down his person before returning up again.
Danny glanced down, only now noticing his bedraggled suit and tie, caked in dirt and grime. The state of his clothes reminded him of those of a war survivor, or a homeless man after a long dirt-nap.
His appearance did nothing to deter her. Rachel reached up, nothing but compassion in her eyes. She didn't say a word, just ran a hand down the side of his cheek, wiping away the dust that lined his face.
At the simple gesture, it all became too much. Danny's breath shuddered, and he felt himself cave forward. She caught him, cradling him in her arms. Unfazed by the elements that lined his shirt, she rested her head against his chest.
Danny held her close. It took him awhile before he could tell her. "We didn't find him."
She didn't move, only whispered, "It's not your fault."
Rachel was sincere; she even whispered for effect. But her words fell uselessly upon his ears. For Danny to find comfort in words, he first had to believe they were true.
(x)
A long time passed while Danny held Rachel in his arms. Whether she knew it or not (and Danny suspected she did), her presence was the only thing that could console him. He had realized that it was possible. It was possible that he may never see Jordan or Jason alive again, and the onset of that had been terrifying.
When he saw Layman, when he saw Jason's kidnapper, the fury had spread like wildfire through his body. He had wanted to kill Layman, to destroy him in the same way he'd destroyed the orphanage. Luckily, Samantha had prevented that. But after her intervention, the rational part of Danny Taylor had realized that there were few people who would understand what he was going through. Samantha, Martin, Vivian, and Jack. They could try to understand. Hell, maybe they did, but not in the way Danny needed them to.
With anyone else but Rachel, he would have had to explain himself. He would have to start from the beginning. His listeners would have demanded details, a complex description of his love for the children, in order to understand his loyalty to them.
With Rachel all he had to do was walk through the door. Explanations were needless. Her devotion to the children was the only one that could contend with his own, and that connection between them had been the only thing to temper his sanity.
It had taken awhile, but Danny could feel his body coming to terms with the trauma. He was breathing more clearly now, and the madness that had threatened to claim him had passed.
Rachel must have noticed it too, because together they eased out of each other's arms. When Danny's arms went completely lax, Rachel squeezed him tightly one more time. She let go, and looked up, offering him a brave smile.
Danny loved her for it. Barely able to lift the corners of his lips, he asked. "How's Kylie?"
Rachel's eyes darted to the side. She motioned for Danny to follow her. "Come see for yourself."
(x)
A bulge of a body stirred and then went still underneath a ratty pink blanket. At Kylie's doorway, Sr. Rachel and Danny stood, watching her sleep. The little girl slept fitfully, disturbed dreams keeping her limbs in activity.
They spoke in whispers as so not to wake her. "She was exhausted," Rachel told him. "She could barely make it up the stairs."
The news didn't surprise him. "It'll be that way for a while. The things we talked about were enough to make a grown man break into tears."
Rachel nodded. "Emotional breakdown. The great equalizer."
Danny couldn't take his eyes off of Kylie. "She's so brave," he marveled. "She put aside her own fears and told me everything, from beginning to end."
"I know. I told her you'd be able to talk things over with her in the next few days," Rachel said. "You're the first person she's opened up to. Chances are she'll do it again."
"I'll make the time. I'll talk to her for as long as she wants, but we both know that's not going to be enough. What else can we do for her?"
"I've got her signed up for counseling at the children's center with Mary Rogers."
"Never heard that name before. What's Mary Roger's story?"
"She's dealt with cases like these since she started work there in '85." Rachel paused for emphasis. "She's good."
Sr. Rachel wasn't the type to give empty compliments. Her approval spoke volumes. "Okay," Danny said. "Also, we have to let the other kids know what's going on. The more we involve them the better. Trust grows like that."
"Right." Sr. Rachel and Danny spent a few minutes looking over Kylie until she was sleeping soundly. Silently closing the door, Rachel started down the hallway with Danny beside her. "The administration paid a visit after you left."
Danny's lips drew together in a pensive frown before he turned to her. "What'd they have to say?"
"I have two weeks."
Danny's eyes closed involuntarily. There it was – the deadline. The reality of their situation began to amass around him anew.
She continued in a voice made detached by legal jargon. "In two weeks, I get an official hearing. They'll send over their garden variety of specialists. They'll investigate, have their committees, and then…" She let out a deep sigh. "Then, they'll decide whether I'm qualified to be running this orphanage."
Danny ran a hand down his face. Too many thoughts construed in his mind for him to offer any real solutions. "What are you going to do?" he asked.
Rachel shrugged. "The only thing I can do. I'm going to raise my children. I'm going to be a vessel of the truth, and I'm going to pray to my God."
Hearing her strong voice, her simple plan, and her courage birthed a smile on his face. "They don't make ones like you anymore, Rachel," Danny said. "You ought to know that."
It earned its appropriate reaction – a smile. It was followed by her sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, tell that to your friend, Martin Fitzgerald."
Danny's face quirked in confusion…and then amusement. "I take it you two had an 'altercation' without me."
"That we did," Rachel agreed. "He certainly was not impressed with me."
"Impossible."
"It's true. He did not approve of my methods."
To that Danny asked, "What did you think about him?"
"First impression? Arrogant. Self-righteous. Completely convinced of his own perceptions…" Her smile edged to the side. "But if he wasn't so overconfident and judgmental, I'd think he was kinda cute."
Disgust and disbelief melded together on his face. "You've got to be kidding me."
"I'm serious!"
Danny rolled his eyes. "You need to get out more."
"You first."
There was a long pause that probably shouldn't have been there. "No," he said softly. His eyes took in the walls surrounding them before they fell upon Rachel. "I like it too much here."
Rachel's mouth hung open for the shortest second. Likewise, it took her a few moments to find an answer. "Maybe that's something we could learn to live with."
Danny's smile returned. Then suddenly, as if someone had suddenly flipped on an internal switch, he looked down at his watch and noticed the time. Rachel had seen him check his watch, and he looked to her apologetically. "You know I have to go."
"'When you play in the streets, that's part of the game. I know that. Just don't ask me to like it.'"
Danny thought a moment. "Casablanca?"
"Dick Tracy."
"I repeat. You need to get out more."
Rachel tried to smile, but it appeared she'd grown too tired. "When will you be back?"
"Whenever I can. Whenever I find out more."
It was the best answer she was going to get. "You have my number." Danny started to walk away, but Rachel called out to him once more. "Danny, about the other night…when I hung up on you…"
He turned to face her.
Rachel clammed up. "I…"
Danny lent her a knowing glance. "It's okay," he said. "I think we both understand."
Her shoulders deflated their anxiety, and Rachel nodded, drunk with relief. They did both understand. If nothing else, they had that going for them. Sending her one last smile, Danny left the convent with the strength Rachel never denied him. He got into his car, feeling more prepared to confront reality and able to interact with his team once more.