Art of the Dark

by Cabbie Esq

This is a sequel to a story written by my writing buddy, Shady. She and I wrote it together after she completed her story. Todd and Téa are a reunited family with their baby boys, home after a terrifying kidnapping ordeal. They are facing a new mysterious threat though, one that is rooted in the spiritual, that reaches them from beyond the confines of earthly surroundings.

27. Chapter 27

ART OF THE DARK - PART 27

The only thing making noise in the Range Rover is the engine, and it's not much more than a gentle hum, matching the smoothness of the rolling English countryside passing by. Even though all the controls are on the right side, Todd handles them well, staying on the left side of the road like he's native, relaxed looking, mostly. RJ doubts things are as quiet inside Todd's head and it looks like there's one main thing rocking and popping in there...

Roseanne.

Behind him, she sniffles, clears her throat, fucking breathes too loud, and instantaneously his eyes fly to the rear-view mirror to watch her two, three seconds maybe. It's making RJ even more anxious than he already is and the closer they get to their destination, the less he wants to get there.

What would Téa be coming home to? Nothing. Her man is dead.

RJ rolls down the window, taps his fingers along the edge, and feels the air of a typically overcast day blast across his face. The pilot told him zilch of what happened and yet he said it all. He'd keep quiet about things and if necessary, he'd dispatch Todd and Roseanne. He'd shut their yaps to keep RJ out of shit he didn't create. Not such a bad idea. Couple of shots to their punk-ass heads...bam, bam, BAM… and things would be done. One last to the demon's sack for good measure.

A sign tells them Cantshire's not all that many kilometers away and Todd slows the car, craning his neck to see out the window, muttering, "Which way? Fuckin' Brits..." No question, it's confusing. The sign's sitting at a funky angle appearing to have been hit and righted with no care to ensure it's pointing in the right way. RJ can't help for shit since he lost track of where they were going miles ago.

Maybe he did it intentionally.

Roseanne chuckles, drawing Todd's watchful eyes again. Running a hand through his long hair which keeps getting in his face, he finally grumbles, "Fuck it." He spins the wheel to the left so hard Roseanne yelps as she hits the door with her body. The truck gains speed quickly because if it's a wrong turn, he's got to come back and he's in a big hurry.

Once recovered, she chortles from the back seat, "Dear me, you mean the Great One can't see ALL? Does he need a mappie-wappie?"

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, Rosie. I'll get us there." He smirks bitterly, glancing over at RJ as he swerves to follow along the sharply veering road, muttering as he does so, "Stupid bitch."

Huffing a response, RJ's lip twitches in sheer hatred as he taps his fingers on the door again, hearing Roseanne's sickening laughter. Goddamn, he thinks, two more words out of them and I'M gonna pop 'em both. Hell with the go-between pilot.

His thoughts of being blissfully free are interrupted though by a heavily guarded road a block ahead of them, ominous yellow tape threading tall grass alongside the road. A whole slew of bobbies wandering the area. RJ, Todd and Roseanne get serious at the sight, because they sure as hell don't look like typical tourists. And cops, no matter what country, are not a good thing for them. RJ's suddenly concerned, too, about what exactly the yellow tape is covering up. He thinks of Téa and the boys, imagining an ugly image of flesh and blood in a field, and instinctively looks at Todd to see if he's even remotely concerned. Sure, this would be on a level with major paranoia, but paranoia's Todd's thing...and to see it would be evidence that he's not completely changed.

The car slows down tremendously. Todd asks softly, "What do we do?"

RJ's question is answered: there's not a bit of worry in those cold eyes about the crime. Nope, he's only concerned about his own ass. No Téa, no Brendan or Evan, they don't warrant a blip. What's it gonna take to wake him up? Maybe he needs to see the dead bodies...except by then, it'll be too late. RJ hushes the dark thoughts, not wanting to think on it any longer. What it's gonna take, he fears, is something too ominous, too ugly.

"Keep cool, man," he says at last. "It's all we CAN do."

Seizing an opportunity to cause unnecessary pain, Roseanne eases up to Todd from behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder so she can whisper in his ear, "You think they wanna hear about what you did to me?"

Todd can't say a thing, can't respond the way he'd like since an officer is beginning to make his way to the car. She takes a fleshy lobe in between her teeth, making sure to lick it, to wet it good, seeing his eyelids wilt as he tries to maintain a whole lot of 'cool.' He turns slightly to get away but there's no way to do it. Roseanne, loving the restraint he's struggling for, rubs her cheek against his neck, the fiery tension in his muscles too delectable for words.

RJ groans softly, "Come on, Roseanne… knock that shit off..."

But he can't do much either under the scrutiny of another officer, which only further feeds her pursuit for extreme discomfort. The cop is only feet away from the car, stopping a second to read the license plate, turning when someone asks a question of him. Firmly attaching her lips to Todd's now-heated skin, she sucks until she hears him making a sound which reminds her of muzzled pit bull. Seeing the officer move still closer, she says, "Shhh...watch the walk of the man with the gun, baby," as she places her palm flat against Todd's chest to rub lasciviously. She pulls her hand up just as the black and white garbed officer reaches the window, just as the bobby reads a registration sticker on the window. Trailing her fingers up towards Todd's shoulder as if she's going to release him, eliciting a relieved sigh, she then shoves her hand down his shirt, stopping to pinch his nipple. Hard.

Todd coughs at the pain, his hand slamming down on hers. He's perspiring because he has to fake it all the way and he knows Roseanne is getting off on it. The officer, wearing a bullet-proof vest over a short-sleeved shirt, eyes all of them, roving the inside of the car, his gaze returning to Roseanne's activities.

At that, she smiles, says in a breathy voice, "Hey there, 'bobby.' Isn't that what you guys are called over here?"

"State your business," the constable says in a thick British accent, pushing his checkered-front hat back a tad.

She sighs, "We're on our honeymoon." Nuzzling him, she gives Todd another pinch and he manages a tightly set smile, appearing to agree.

The officer makes a face, instantly confused...and revolted. "All THREE of you?"

"Yeah. We're American, y'know...free love and 'alternative lifestyles', if you know what I mean," Roseanne says slickly, giving him a wink and then glancing at RJ, wagging her tongue sexily.

He smiles back at her, tightly. He chuckles audibly and casually looks out the window. He's so pissed he can hardly breathe, but he keeps an eye out, hoping to figure out what the tape's for. That's when he gets a view of a morgue transport vehicle. He hopes the sinking feeling in his gut is just paranoia. The officer continues to look them over, teetering over what he's being told.

"What are your day's plans?"

"Just takin' a trip to Dover's Cliffs," Todd says. "We're staying in London. Heading to Paris in a couple of days."

"Dover's Cliffs, ay? You're headed in the wrong direction for that."

Roseanne chuckles, nipping at Todd's neck, before saying, "Oh, we must have gotten a little turned around when we pulled off the road back a ways...silly us."

The officer's creased his brows, "Could happen. Mind telling me what hotel you're at in London, sir?"

Todd suddenly goes blank, "Hotel..." He laughs to cover it up, "Must be jet lag..."

It doesn't work, the officer developing a curious, more-than-suspicious look on his face.

Roseanne whispers, "Or too much shagging..."

RJ leans over and says, "We're staying at the Strand Palace Hotel."

"Under what names, sir? I'll give them a jangle, if you don't mind." Another high-ranking officer approaches the car because this is taking too long.

"Problems, old boy?"

"We've got some honeymooners, apparently...THREE of them," the first officer says, his tone implying everything. The second officer looks into the car and Todd grins without showing teeth. He then reaches a hand for RJ's, squeezing RJ's hand, "We always wanted to see England. We saved up a long time for this trip."

Roseanne kisses Todd hard on his neck, breathing in deeply and sighing, "Mmmm… we've been together forever."

"Right. Well..." He flashes the same look of mild disgust at the other officer, pausing to scan them all one more time. Then he sighs. "I see no reason to hold them up further. Best to get them behind locked doors. Quickly."

The first officer clears his throat and stands up straight. Nods, "All right then. Go on, turn right around if you're still on your way to the Cliffs, and no more pulling over, sir. Don't want to get yourself into a spot of trouble, if you know what I mean."

"Thanks for the advice." With that Todd gives RJ's hand a last squeeze and says to the officers, "Have a good day, then. God save the Queen."

Then he punches the gas and drives on through the roadblock. Like instructed, they turn around and drive back down the road. Once in the clear, Todd growls to Roseanne who's still got a good hold of him, "Get the fuck off me or I swear to GOD I'll pull over...and it won't be to SHAG."

Roseanne pulls away, collapsing back against the seat, laughing like a hyena. "Ohhhh...that was so much fun...oh, Mr. Manning, you were so HOT back there...literally! I actually think you and RJ have some pretty hot chemistry! What I wouldn't give to see you two fuck!"

She keeps laughing and RJ ignores her, saying to Todd, "Saw a morgue transport back there...there's dead bodies in that field."

"Dead Brits. Who gives a shit?"

"What if they're dead AMERICANS?"

Todd shrugs, not getting the hint. "I should care...why?"

"Oh, well...SHELTON is why you should care. He was on a JOB here, remember? Kinda hinky that we'd run into the cops on THIS PARTICULAR ROAD, dontcha think?" RJ snaps his fingers in front of Todd's face. "Hello! Are you listening to me?"

Todd appears on the surface to be unaffected, except his eyes are now looking in the rear-view mirror, in the side-view one...not at Roseanne. He looks back at the road ahead of him, then at the mirrors once more. He's thinking about it. He bites the inside of his lip, goes to the mirrors again. RJ sighs.

"That's right, bro...my guess is whatever happened back there has something to do with HIM. I just hope that's not Téa in that field. Hope it's not your kids." He's distanced himself from the likelihood of it, actually...but he's using the idea. Maybe it'll trigger something in the demon next to him, maybe it will rouse him.

Todd's eyes lose their steadiness, his face blanching slightly. Suddenly he squeezes those lids shut, opens them again, shakes his head. "Nah...it's not," he says, "I'd know if it was."

Cluing in, Roseanne has ceased her hysteria, "You think Téa's dead, RJ? That what you're saying?" Not even looking at her, RJ just throws his forearm up, half-assed, letting it flop back down. She sighs...like the idea's a good one.

"One could only hope."

Todd's had it, slamming on the brakes and directing the car to the side of the road, garnering a curse from RJ. Todd whips around to Roseanne, reaching for her, but not quite touching her. He's grinning now, moving his head slowly from side to side, his eyes gleaming. "She better NOT be dead, Roseanne. Those kids better not be dead. Because they're ALL YOU HAVE for me to keep you alive. Without them, without your 'sight'...I have no reason to let you keep breathing."

RJ sniffs tiredly and releases the safety again on the nine he keeps damn handy...Todd glances at steely eyes, at the gun's barrel. He growls, "Can you fuckin' lay off that?"

"Can you fuckin' lay off HER?"

"Tell her to lay off ME, and I'll lay off her."

"What do I look like to you, some schoolhouse MUM? Turn down that side road and DRIVE!"

After glaring at RJ a couple seconds more, Todd shifts back in the seat, getting the truck back on the road. They double back down the side road and down another that parallels the closed road, heading back towards Cantshire, quickly. Everything quiets again. There's simply nothing to say, nothing to do other than wait. And the waiting...it's interminable. It's like sitting in a hot bath, waiting for a shower of cold water. You're begging for relief...but nothing happens, only more waiting. The road's monotonous, almost hypnotic.

Téa ...who are you to me? What can you be to me, now...after all that's happened? What can I be...to you?

He sees her vividly, in his head. She's sitting on steps looking into his eyes. A wary expression plays at the corners of her coffee-colored eyes, expectation brushes her lips a pale pink. Her skin is fair, gorgeous and unmarked. She wears a silky, black strapless dress, the skirt bearing blood-red roses and falling daintily around her bare feet. Her knees poke upwards, her hands back against a porch's dry planks. Her hair is messy, like she's been sleeping. The fabric, he sees now, it's wrinkled. Yes, she's been sleeping for sure. There's no wedding ring on her finger. Her eyes move up his length, along his body…

He's not human he realizes. He cannot tell the kind of creature he's become. A wolf maybe, a dog.

"I'm not afraid of you," she says. "I know what you're capable of, I've seen it."

He offers a singular response, a low growl coming from the depths of his parched throat. He's pacing in front of her. She laughs lightly, throwing her head back slightly.

"You should be caged," she says. "That's what happens to your sort. It doesn't matter how sleek your coat is, how gracious your walk. Doesn't matter how pretty your canines are. You're dangerous and therefore you need to be silenced."

Stretching his muscles, lifting his rump, he lays at her feet, looking up at her. His large paws touch her toes, his claws retracted. She smiles, lines on her forehead appearing…

"You're trying to say I tame you, I pacify you. But I don't believe I do. The way you tore apart the elephant calf tells me so. You didn't even leave enough for the vultures."

Rolling onto his back, he offers his tongue...wetting the side of her foot. He laps at her skin.

"You...are an animal," she says. "There's no return for you. No hope of anything better than a cage."

The vision is gone. As quickly as she arrived, she has slipped away, leaving him behind. Outside the Range Rover, the world takes on a yellow-gray tint, trees dotting distant hills and grassy slopes, shadows promising rain from gray clouds. Even the massive homes made of stone and mortar are grayed. Everything is twisted, turned. Todd grips the steering wheel tightly, licking his lips because he's desperately thirsty. He glimpses Roseanne in the rear-view mirror, focusing on her high cheekbones as she watches the passing terrain, knowing intensely the feel of those bones against his own face. He places everything that's happened on her...it's her fault. With one easy swipe, he could break her. He could do it now.

Now...now… pull over and kill her.

What holds him back? The pistol at RJ's reach...or Téa's voice calling him an animal. Easily she says it. Matter of fact. Rolling off her tongue.

You're vicious.

He wraps his hand around his own throat, sensing the ceaseless pulse there. His skin doesn't feel like his own...it's clammy, cold, as if he's touching someone else's neck, and within seconds, the memory of what he's done plays out in front of him, a cruel, sepia-toned loop of horror. He's committed an unthinkable crime against humanity, against everything he'd attached himself to: morality, family, love, fatherhood, peace, joy. Another woman has become his victim out of revenge because he was compelled to teach her a lesson in power.

Because she fucking asked. And you won, too. Don't forget that.

He's tearing her apart and she holds the length of his hair like she can control his damage of her. He's got a raging erection at the thought of it and he adjusts himself to ease the discomfort. He can see in their battle that she is desperate to lessen his strength, but she doesn't make a dent. He watches the whole thing from start to finish, watches from the sidelines, walking around them. She's so quiet at last, her eyes sticking to the lights overhead as her body burns against the carpet. She reads writing plastered on the ceiling.

What's up there?

Todd looks...oh yes, warnings about exits. Code required. How strange those red words look, how odd that the concept of safety floats in the air the way ducks do on a pond. How ironic, being that she's so very unsafe. Todd's sick to his stomach as the loop goes on. Relentlessly it plays. Relentless, like he was in his wounding of her. He argues with himself: the thing on top of Roseanne isn't anything like him, is it? He learned his own lesson in life about such things. So many people along the way taught him, helped him, cured him. What is he doing this for? How can he do it?

Cured? The only curing was of your soul...like smoked meat...set out to dry...set out to burn in the salts of your sin. You were never healed...only delayed.

The animal above Roseanne's thin frame is close to ejaculating and he's up now on his hands, pounding inside of her, and he's gritting his teeth because it feels too good to have THIS much control and THIS much power and THIS much domination. The demon laughs and says something to her out of Todd's hearing range. Play it again, Todd tells himself. He doesn't understand, can't quite make the words out.

Come on, what does the THING say to the girl? What, what, what...?

Replay...replay...a repeating dip of his head, a last cry from Roseanne. Her lips are so tender, so feminine, and her eyes are girlish. What does the monster say?

"Send me back to hell."

The story stops playing and his cock softens because the orgasm happened and it was so fucking good that no real life masturbation could even come close to the recollection of it. Todd wipes the back of his neck because the loop has ripped his head apart. He's got a migraine now and the light from the outside makes everything worse. He's going to have to puke at some point and it would be best to simply pull over and lie down in a dark space. Maybe when he wakes up, he'll know what's happened, he'll understand.

Send me back to hell.

He wanted her to kill him for what he was doing. Doesn't the monster know he's already there though?

The sign ahead points out Cantshire, RJ confirming it by reading it aloud. Todd looks over at RJ, his voice sounding disconnected like they're in some sort of echo chamber.

It's not real, he thinks. He's dreaming is what it is. Right? A nightmare? Right?

"Wait...there's Filinger," RJ says in a deep tone, heavy with who-knows-what.

"Follow the yellow-brick road," Roseanne hisses. They're finally where they're supposed to be. And maybe Téa is there, a woman he's been chasing after. A woman who birthed his children...his boys...and they don't know who their father is. Those boys, they don't know that Roseanne didn't do as he asked, that their father still walks the earth, that he wasn't killed, that he wasn't sent back to hell. Roseanne didn't have the fight in her to do it. She just lay there and stewed in the assault, fighting just enough to amuse the demon, to get him off. He can remember that feeling. He can hear his own feral lasting groan, can see a string of spit fall from his mouth. He can see in Roseanne's eyes the fact that the lesson is over, the relief. The disbelief that she lost to him. She played with fire and got burned badly.

And so did he, just like the woman in Fallstown said. He'd lose himself to the Devil.

"I need a drink or something," Todd says in a scratchy voice. RJ doesn't have anything, and gazes at Todd.

"What's up...you sick?"

"No, I'm okay. I just need something to drink. I have to stop."

"We're right there, Manning! We're not stopping now!"

"I need something to drink."

Roseanne is on him, chuckling from the back, "You need a sip from a cow's teat, baby? 'cause cows are all that's out there. Or maybe you want to suckle from mine?"

"I need a drink."

"The hell's wrong with you, man?"

Slamming on the brakes, Todd opens the door and practically falls out of the truck wandering away into an open field, the grass tall against his legs. Things are incredibly confusing at this point and he's scared because he's really losing it. His head feels like someone's in there with a sledgehammer, bashing away like...like...like before.

Oh GOD, he hasn't lost it like this in...well, it's been a while since he was in pieces and people lived inside of him and he was shattered and made to think the way a broken tea cup would think, sharp and edgy and quaint and cute and sweet and fucking unglued. And he's feeling awfully shattered right now, feeling skinned alive.

Looking in the tall grass he sees the bodies of Tea and Brendan and Evan...they've been slaughtered. There's nothing left of them...

Send me back to hell. Send me...send...send...

He knows Téa isn't at the Filinger place. It's been abandoned. He can't figure out where she is, though, talking from that porch, calling him an animal. She's right, though...she's right. Every bit of her is right. The way she gazes at him, the way she views him. RJ says he will find her...just to keep her from him.

Send me...send me...send me back to Hell.

It isn't long before he feels RJ yanking on his long coat, dragging him, yelling at him,

"What...you scared now? Don't wanna face the truth?!"

"Shut up...shut up...you don't understand..."

"No, I understand crystal, my man! YOU FUCKED IT UP! You wanna blame somebody for her running? Then blame yourself!"

Todd turns to RJ, swatting at the hand that's got a hold of him, "Don't you think I know that?!"

"No! I don't think you know a GOD-damned thing! But guess what...it's too late to hide, Manning! You say you can 'see' things? Well, come on down! Get in that fuckin' house and tell me where she's gone!"

"Maybe she's dead, like you said. Maybe there's no point in looking inside that house."

Todd's looking at RJ with a realness that's not been around in a long while, and RJ thinks it's the Todd he once knew, the one who loved Téa, the one who'd protect her… and who sometimes hurt her without meaning to. He thinks he's looking at the guy who had himself under control, who was always reaching for love. Man...not sure though...maybe THAT guy's dead. Beyond repair, beyond hope.

Breathing in deeply, RJ shakes his head, "You don't get to be scared now, man. You want to be a fuckin' animal? FINE. Then you DEAL with everything that comes with it. All that pain, and loss...it's all yours now, dog...every bit of it."

Todd motions to Roseanne who's hopped outside the car and is watching them. "She deserved what she got."

"Oh, you think? Well, what about Téa? What about your boys? What do THEY deserve? You think you live in some kind of goddamned vacuum where you can act this shit out without re-per-cussions? You THAT stupid?!" RJ laughs bitterly, "Oh man..." He returns his gaze to Todd. "Naw, son. You don't get to be scared."

Todd has nothing to say to any of it, glancing down at what's left of him. He's on the edge of sanity now, he can feel it. And he holds onto RJ's gaze like he's a lifeline, like RJ can pull him out of this sinkhole. He nods slightly...it can only be a kind of assent. He ambles toward the truck, RJ a couple of feet behind him. The black coat hangs down and there's a breeze and Todd's walking like he's headed to the gallows, which is okay, which is righteous.

What's bad though is Roseanne. She's grinning like she's got a fuckin' goose in her mouth, much less a canary. Oh yeah, she knows Todd's barely hanging on. She's on it.

"Ooooh, what's wrong, babeeee...lost your teddy bear?"

RJ hisses, "For god's sake, Rosie, SHUT UP...Jesus..."

Todd climbs into the truck, ignoring Roseanne and keeping his eyes straight ahead. RJ gets in. Roseanne does, too. The engine gets going, the car bumping as Todd shifts into drive.

"You look so sad, baby. What are you thinking, what do you SEE? Are they dead? You think someone killed them...left 'em in that field to rot? Those poor babies...those sweet...tender...babies. Bloodied and raw, lying dead in the grass..." she laughs.

RJ turns slightly, "What part of 'SHUT UP' do you NOT get?!"

"I don't feel like shutting up. I feel like singing."

Todd watches the road, still needing water, still needing that drink. His head throbs with pain. They turn off the main road, onto the access road, where the Filinger cottage sits at the end of the line, waiting. He can see it from here. It's a plain box made of stone with a couple of windows and an old front door that's seen a lot of winters. There are no cars. There's no sign of life. A sharp, stinging sensation begins at the top of his head and starts moving downward...because he's splitting in fucking two...and then it will be three...then four. Everyone will come back. All those parts of him that he thought had met up and fused.

No more...no more.

His mouth is dry, no spit to fall out here. No spit to tie him to Roseanne's body under him. Roseanne who is lying there taking all of him, taking everything he had to give her. Just fucking lying there...refusing to send him back to hell. Not giving him the pleasure of it.

Punishing her...it was right, it was proper...he was made to do it, he was pushed into doing it. She asked for it.

The truck comes to a stop and RJ gets out first. Then Roseanne. Todd stays where he's at. Puts his head down on the steering wheel. Lets spit fall out of his mouth, a long, slimy string of it...just like he saw on that loop in his head. It pools on the leather chair in between his legs. If he'd been Roseanne, he'd have killed his rapist. How much DNA had he left on her? He thought it had been in his head, but he knows better. He massages his cock, trying to recall the feelings. Nothing matches it though.

Nothing.

The door opens and it's RJ. "Get out."

Todd's robotic now, climbing out of the car and following RJ to the cottage door which opens easily, not having been locked. The place is as abandoned as he thought. Neat as a pin, as the saying goes. Todd walks through the place, the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom. He sees the bed. Sees how perfectly laid the linens are. Runs his hand across it. Someone took such care to tidy the one bed up. No sheets on the couch. No errant blanket or pillow...where a guest would have slept. He starts opening drawers, feeling for remnants of her...faster and faster he searches every nook, every crack, every place where she could be. He's sweating and working to stop his mind from sizzling like fucking bacon. Shit's flying everywhere inside of him, pinging about, thoughts, images, blood, flesh. And all the while he can hear Roseanne mocking him in their special way so RJ can't hear her.

Little angels sleeping the sleep of permanence. Rocking stiffs in cradles. A mother's body filleted, her parts warming the carcasses of children. Oh, Mr. Manning...oh, Mr. Satan's Son. Our love of the dark side has consumed our hearts...our breaths...our souls. Come to me, let me comfort you. Let me bury my head in your neck to taste your salty sweat. Let me love you...let yourself love ME, like you did before...like you did before.

Todd spins on his feet to face her. She's been following him, bee-like. RJ walks up to the two of them, but it's like he's not there. His eyes bounce in between the two and Todd's pleading with her, with his eyes.

She smiles. "Would you like me to stop?"

"I'm asking you not to push me now, Roseanne. For our own good, you know?" he says, quietly.

"What are you gonna do? Kill me? Like that'll give you relief? Like that will SAVE you?"

"I'm not looking to be saved. I'm looking for QUIET now. That's all."

RJ grabs Roseanne by the shoulders, "Alright, ENOUGH. Game's over!"

"Game's NEVER OVER," she says. "Don't you get that yet?"

"The only thing I GET is that Téa ain't here and I thought you knew everything!"

"Oh, I do. I know EXACTLY where she is...but obviously, poor Todd doesn't."

Todd seems to be drifting slightly, his eyes gliding over at the bed. Roseanne spots where he's gone and she leaves RJ, sliding onto the comforter. "You think she slept here? Alone?"

RJ groans... "Jesus… you gotta a death wish."

"Yeah, I think she does."

Todd shakes his head because it's so noisy and it hurts so much. He rubs the heel of his hand into his forehead, where the pounding starts. Where it spreads outwards and where he can feel the separate parts of him converging, twisting among each other, like twine ready to unravel. Like a mass of snakes. He suddenly thinks of Joely Atherton, whom he hasn't thought of in so long and wishes she were here now to help him.

Okay...just take a minute...and just breathe, like Doc always said...

Roseanne laughs more, loudly, and it bounces all over the room. Suddenly, as if someone shines a flashlight into a dark corner, Todd can see Téa again, and she's looking around another room, taking it all in. Smiling sadly, with her head down, she says to a person to her side, "At first I thought this was a strange place to go to get healed...but then I fell in love with it...and I knew he would get better here."

The laughter breaks up the picture, Roseanne's cackling the worst static. She's looking right at Todd, "You think Dean's into her feet? You think he sucks her toes before he fucks her? He never did that with me...but then, he didn't love me...not like he loves Téa."

RJ starts to grab her, to tear her away, because he can see Todd literally crack at that last line of hers. But before he can get to her, he feels an arm around his throat and he's being shoved out the bedroom door, the gun being taken from him...and as if he was never there, he's locked out. Fast as anything...goddamn!

He tries the door in a panic, but it won't budge. Banging away, he calls for Todd...but there's nothing...no sound. Placing his head against the door, he says, "Aw, man, COME ON...don't fuckin' pull this shit now...OPEN THIS DOOR!"

Inside the bedroom, Roseanne is frozen in place, stuck on top of the bed as she watches Todd with the gun in his hand. He's kind of swinging it around, like it's not actually i his hand. He's completely lost it. He's mad as the Mad Hatter.

"Oh god, look at us," he says. "Pathetic. RJ's afraid and isn't that funny? He was hoping to save you from me. But I TOLD you not to push. I ASKED you not to."

"Go ahead, do whatever you want. You'll never know where she is. You'll wander the earth forever...like a fucking vampire."

Todd's on her fast and he's gotten himself perfectly positioned on top of her, on top of the bed.

"I can see EVERYTHING," he whispers.

Placing his hand around her throat, poking the gun deep into her ribs, he adds, "I don't need you anymore." She's scared now and he laughs, his voice rising a couple of octaves. "Oh lookie, poor wittle Roseanne...not so brave without her ebony knight at her side."

"Fuck you. You don't see ANYTHING."

Bending down, placing his lips right on hers, he says, "Montana."

Her eyes widen at first, as he squeezes a fist at her delicate throat, as he watches her mouth. As he grins...

"That's right...I don't need you anymore. *I* feel like singin'."

There's nothing Roseanne can do. She lies there quietly, waiting...waiting...the door is being hit. RJ's trying so hard to get in. The safety gets released and Todd groans in a kind of ecstasy. But he quiets, his hot breath falling rhythmically against Roseanne's skin. From someplace outside or inside, he hears a storm raging, a baby crying, and a mother singing a lullaby...such sweet tones, lifting and swaying and comforting. The stinging cut that's been threatening to split Todd in two, three...four...runs down the front of his head...down to his mouth...down his throat...down to his heart. It's blinding him, silencing him further, the pain like blood. He rubs his face against Roseanne's hair, resting his whole body on her.

"I wanna hear more," he says to nobody in particular.

And he does...he listens to more lines, listens to the baby cooing in response.

"Isn't that something?" he murmurs.

Roseanne's features crumple but she says nothing, unable to move beneath Todd's weight on her. The gun's being moved upwards and she imagines him blowing his brains out. Yeah...she likes that and fires the image his way, dreams it up, makes it detailed...

Yeah, shoot yourself, baby...pull the trigger...blow yourself UP...

Sings it, prays it.

"Y'know what it feels like to lose your mind?" he finally says.

"No," she answers, flatly.

"It feels like a chainsaw ripping through you."

"Really. Well, then put the chain saw through ME, why dontcha?"

"I ASKED you not to push me. But you wouldn't let up."

Come on, little lost soul, raise that gun and put it to your own head...pull the fucking trigger. Pull! Pull!

Todd chuckles and shakes his head. When he looks down, he doesn't see Roseanne, but Téa.

"Ohhh," he sighs, "Where have you been? Here on the bed...?"

"Right here, you fuckin' MORON," Roseanne says, "Right on the damned bed, where you have me PINNED."

Shoot...yourself...spare your children, your wife, spare them the truth about you.

"Téa," Todd says easily, "You forgive me, right? You know I am so lost without you? Without our kids...I don't mean anything, I don't. I love you, I do. I remember everything about you, about us...you know? I don't forget...I didn't forget."

Roseanne realizes that Todd is confused, that he sees Téa under him and she pouts at that. Trying every angle. "But I can't forgive you...I can't."

"What? Why not...if I can do it, you can..."

"No...there's no hope for us. I'm with Dean now. I love him. He loves me. The only option for you...is to die...like you've always wanted."

"Huh?" He squeezes his eyes shut, because he can't understand what she's saying. His Téa would never say that...and the noise in his head, the pain...it's unbearable. It's so unbearable.

He rests on Roseanne again, sliding the gun to her cheek like he doesn't really know it's there. It's just an extension of his arm, of his hand. She's shaking hard because wouldn't it just be her luck to die by fucking accident after all this? Jesus...just shoot yourself, she says to the gods, to whomever has helped her along, shoot...your...self.

He lifts himself up onto his hands, partly up on his knees, the gun sliding back down again.

"I love you," he says. "If I'm gonna die, you're coming with me. I can't leave you here."

"What about our children?"

He pauses at that.

Roseanne sees that he's freed her somewhat so with everything she's got, she knees Todd in the groin hard, causing him to fall, to double over…

And it's just enough for her to get out from under him. She scrambles off the bed, slipping on the floor, but gets back up. She tries to open the door, pulling on it, screaming for RJ, "RJ! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!" Pounds hard on it.

But the door isn't budging and Todd points the gun at Roseanne, "Don't fuckin' move," he groans. Turning around, she faces him.

"Oh, fine, shoot me! Go ahead, you piece a'shit! GO AHEAD!"

"It would be so easy."

"THEN DO IT!"

Todd's in too much pain though and something's breaking through. Maybe seeing Téa back home for that one instant, maybe hearing her voice saying she loves Dean, maybe hearing his children...their little sounds, his boys...maybe all those things pool together to form a net or a rope yanking him out of hell. Or maybe it's not all that noble or rational, and is more along the lines that he thinks he'll miss if he tries to shoot her.

Whatever it is, it's enough to settle him. It makes him think about things, makes him want to sleep, makes him want to nurse the pain ripping him to shreds, the chainsaw cutting him into pieces and the sharp gut-pain in his scrotum. He thinks Roseanne isn't worth the trouble. He puts the gun down next to him, and pats his chest, his arms...his head, assuring himself that he's still a person. That he doesn't have fur or four legs or a fucking tail. He sees everything around him in a bluish light...soothing...and he knows at that point that he's completely and utterly insane. He's as sick as he's been in a long motherfuckin' while. It almost makes him want to cry.

"Like the blue," he sniffles to nobody. "Better than blood-red, y'know? Better than yellow."

The door finally bursts open and Roseanne runs out. RJ storms to the bed, grabs the gun back, curses. Not believing what a close call that was. He watches Todd curl up like a pill bug, Todd muttering something about not killing Roseanne and would he get a big ol' point for that?

RJ collapses on the edge of the bed and thumps Todd on the shoulder, "God...I can't fuckin' believe you. Can't believe HER, that stupid girl. NEVER knows when to shut up."

Todd says, "Delgado's in Montana. She went home...with him. With Shelton."

RJ takes that in with a heavy sigh...then he nods. Todd curls up tighter, looking like he's in some real pain. "Can we leave Rosie here? Please tell me we can just ditch her somewhere. PLEASE."

"Shit...I don't know WHAT the fuck to do with her," RJ replies.

"I have a pretty good idea."

"Oh, HELL-no. You just toss THAT idea right outta that scrambled-egg-mess you call your brain. Just TRY and keep your shit together, man...that should keep you plenty busy."

"I'm done, y'know...what do they say? Stick a fork in me..."

"Hear THAT. We better get goin'. You ready to go home?"

"I NEED to go home. I'm not going to make it otherwise."

"Yeah, I know," RJ says, quietly, as he helps Todd up off the bed and walks him out.

Outside, Roseanne huddles in the back of the truck. She got off...he got off...all too easy. There's so much to do, so...much...work.

"It's not over 'till the fat lady sings..." she whispers, to the back of their heads.

Sing, little ones...cry yourselves to sleep...I'm coming for you, I'm coming for you.

To be continued…