ART OF THE DARK - PART 29
After Joely spends a few minutes in the car gushing over the twins, she straightens up, with increasing difficulty, though. Téa watches her, guiltily. "You gonna be okay by yourself?" she asks and Joely waves it off.
"I'll manage. But I should go."
She half-glances behind her, knowing Dean is there, leaning on the hood of the car, his eyes drilling holes into her back. Joely leans into Téa, whispering, "Why don't you come with me? The children shouldn't be out here in the cold like this. Neither should you."
Téa looks at the unfinished house, considering. Then she looks at Dean, who looks as if he's ready to beat the crap out of...someone. She sighs. "Thank you. But I need to talk to him first."
"I won't say anything to anyone, Téa...that's your call. I just don't want you to freeze to death out here."
Téa smiles. "I know. I appreciate it...and, uh...we'll probably take you up on it."
Joely pats her arm, nodding. "Good. I'll see you later, then."
Téa nods back, watching as Joely walks to her car and gets in. She starts it up and pulls back, turning and driving away. Téa watches after her until her lights have disappeared into the woods...then she turns back to Dean, who's come up beside her. They look at each other, neither of them quite sure what to say or do now. Finally, Téa bends down, looking in on the boys. Both are still quiet and calm, but she knows it's cruel to keep toting them around like luggage.
"Joely offered to let us stay at her house," she says to Dean, quietly...and he rolls his eyes.
"Ah, Christ...yeah, great. That's JUST what I need."
"She said she wouldn't say anything to anyone."
"And you believe her?"
Téa glances away, thinking about it. Then she nods. "I do. She wouldn't lie to me." She watches him as he rubs his face, tiredly. "I think we should do it," she says.
Dean contemplatively looks at her before walking a few steps away. "I don't like this, Téa...I'm getting a BAD vibe. I mean, who's to say she won't call the feds as soon as she gets home?"
"She COULD do that. But I don't think she will."
Dean sighs, thinking. He shakes his head. "I dunno… I have half a mind to just take off now. Wasn't counting on this."
Téa holds her breath at that; but she doesn't say anything. She's listening to the fugitive talk. A worldview she has no familiarity with until now.
Dean rubs his short hair a moment, gauging her reaction, then walks back up to her. After taking her in, absorbing her gentle patience, he says, "Look, I don't wanna leave you...but this could be very bad for me."
Téa's face softens, and she nods. "I know. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking she could be any kind of threat, and I probably should've. I'm not used to this...life."
There's another silence as they both try to think of what to do now. Then Dean reaches out, touching a thumb to her cheek. "Let's just leave, Téa. Let's just get the hell outta Dodge, yeah?"
He stares deeply at her, his beautiful blue eyes captivating, a whole other kind of life promised, and her heart races like a schoolgirl. She feels his fingers grazing her skin...and a good half of her is ready to go all in with him, to just leave Todd to his own self-imposed misery and start her life over again somewhere else...with Dean.
But then, the other half of her knows it's not going to happen. She's not sure if it's the mother in her, the wife or just that connection Joely referred to...but she knows she's not going anywhere. She opens her eyes again, swallowing hard as she looks up at him and shakes her head.
"I can't."
Dean stares at her for another second, then takes his hand away. He shakes his head too. "I think you mean you WON'T."
She looks away, then shrugs. "Okay, I won't."
He keeps shaking his head at her, more vigorously now. Then he walks away from her again, but not far...just enough so that he can turn his back and react without her seeing.
"What do you want from me, Téa?" he asks, after a second and it stuns her silent for a moment.
What do I want...what do *I* want...?
"'Cause I'll tell ya...I'm at a loss here. I have no fuckin' idea what to do," he continues, finally turning around to look at her. She stares at him, thinking a million things all at once but is unable to say any of them. He gives her another second, then shrugs. "I mean...just gimme a clue. Help me out here. Do you even WANT me to stay? Is there any point in it?" he says, getting more frustrated as his thoughts start flowing freely. "Do I even stand the slightest chance with you? Do you even care what happens to me?"
He's close to her now, inches from her.
"Do you even care what *I* think? What *I* feel? Or is this just...all about YOU? Huh? What're you thinkin', Téa? WHAT DO YOU WANT?"
She stares at him, totally taken aback. Not at his aggravation but at the idea that SHE matters. That HER desires can make a final call. So many years of that question being second to Todd's desires. She almost laughs because his comment sounds like something she would have said to Todd.
"I don't know," she says at last.
He nods at that, unimpressed. He looks at her for another moment. "Well, you better figure it out," he says.
Téa swallows that reality and it feels like the biggest, most bitter pill she's ever tasted. But then the fact that he sounds like her, like a hundred arguments with Todd, gets her thinking more deeply into what her goals were with Todd in those arguments. She narrows her eyes.
"What do you expect me to say...that I love you or something?"
Slapped right back, Dean backs off, but Téa moves in to match him, the litigator awakened. "You seem to forget that you TOLD me that you would help me, no matter what it meant...because you OWED me. Because YOU...put me through hell. Or do you not remember that?"
He folds his arms, cowed. "I remember perfectly."
She nods, murmuring, "Uh huh." Then she says, softly, "Look...I don't know what the answer is here. I really don't...and if you want to take off, I can't stop you. I can only tell you that...I don't want you to go. That's the truth."
His face softens a little at that, but he says nothing.
"...and I don't know what that means. I don't know what I want right now. I don't even what to think, what to consider in making any kind of decision. I don't know ANYTHING," she says, with a defeated shrug. Except then a coldness falls over her features and sharp eyes fall on him. "But don't think you can corner me like that and get me to say whatever you wanna hear 'cause it's not gonna happen. I SHOULD hate you but I don't. I don't know I ever really did. I feel...safe...safer...with you...than with my own husband, which is so totally...confusing. So I don't...I dunno what else to tell you."
She wipes her face on her sleeve, roughly, her skin burning from the friction and the cold. Dean sighs...then he gently pulls her to him. She stiffens for just a second...then relaxes, almost collapsing, throwing her arms around his neck.
"Sorry...I'm sorry," he whispers, as she buries her face in his shoulder. "I didn't mean to jump on you like that...but you gotta understand something. YOU may not know...but I know how *I* feel..."
He hugs her tighter, putting his mouth right by her ear. "...I love you..."
Téa sighs knowingly, having just been waiting to hear this, expecting it even, but the shock of it isn't any less. She freezes in the hug, feeling the tickle of his breath on her skin as he continues to talk.
"...and I guess it just really pisses me off knowing that you might very well spend the rest of your life with a sick bastard like Manning...that you might PREFER THAT...to me."
He releases her finally, looking down at her with the most vulnerable expression she's ever seen on him. Then he winces a bit.
"Fuck," he mutters. "I don't know why I just said that." He shakes his head, and she looks at him, sympathetically, but says nothing. He lets out a harsh breath, running a hand over his hair. "Anyway, look. If you want me to hang around, fine. And if you trust that snob doctor, then...also fine. Your word's good enough for me. I'll take you over there if that's what you want." He says this calmly, with a hint of sadness.
Not knowing what else to do, Téa laughs breathily, sudden tears streaming down her face. Tears for so many things. She shakes her head at him.
"Thank you," she says.
RJ snores away in his darkened room at the inn, sprawled out on the bed, his head buried under a pillow. Todd had wandered out of the pub and disappeared into the soupy fog after that bizarre exchange with the whiskey-buying woman. Yet another freak-out in Todd's long, distinguished history of freak-outs. RJ hadn't even left him alone that long, just long enough to pay the bill and take a leak.
But just like that...poof. Gone.
And he was just too friggin' tired to go looking for him. Too tired to deal. Now he dreams of whiskey bottles floating around a woman dancing in brightly colored tribal wraps and sparkling gold earrings that accentuate her dark skin. But her face is fuzzy...like bad reception on a TV. She kinda looks like Roseanne…
The loud chirping of his cell phone startles him awake. He peers out from under the pillow groggily, not even sure he heard anything. He almost goes right back to sleep, but the phone rings again.
He groans as he grabs it off of the nightstand. "What?" he says sharply, expecting it to be the freak-out king...stupid, drunk, crazy-ass fuck-
"Gannon? What's the deal, mate?" a chipper, accented voice answers instead.
RJ pulls himself up a bit, leaning on the headboard. "Ohhhh...hey, man," he answers, recognizing his contact. "Sorry I didn't call you before...been kinda crazy."
"I can imagine. So...where are ya?"
"Oh, we're in London. We found the house...but of course, he was already gone," RJ says, unenthused, smoothing his braids back.
"Interesting you should mention that...got a bit o' news for ya. Up for a pint?"
RJ grimaces, his sour stomach twitching at the very mention of the word. "Can't you just tell me now?"
"Rather not," the man replies, and RJ lets out a long sigh.
"Alright. There's a pub down the road from me...Lion's...Tooth, I think? Somethin' like that."
"Ah...I know it. Meetcha in half an hour."
RJ just nods-like the guy could see him-as he clicks off. He looks at the clock on the phone's display; at least an hour had passed since Todd disappeared, maybe more. He sighs again, knowing he should probably check on Roseanne, like the dutiful babysitter he'd turned out to be. But he can't seem to muster the energy to move a muscle...or give a shit. Not just yet, anyway. So he slides back down, putting the pillow back over his head...trying to forget that Todd and Roseanne even exist for thirty more minutes.
Todd works hard at breaking away, useless effort. He can't even pull against the invisible cords. He's completely and absolutely out of control and it's different, worse than he's ever experienced. Because it's not losing control over one's actions; this isn't a matter of freeing rage or passion or giving into emotion with no attention to morality or law or conscience.
He realizes in an instant that everything he's done has been a matter of choice, including the rape of Roseanne. And he also understands that from this point until a time SHE deems, he has no more choice.
It's his worst fear: complete and total loss of control.
He doesn't know how long or far they walk but his feet plod along mindlessly. He's a complete victim to his body's motion. The ropes are tight on him, the mental depression is powerful. He's so afraid of where they're going, he can't even speak...or scream. Fear has become the essence of his blood. It runs through him wildly, the only thing keeping him alive. He even imagines that if he were to stop being afraid, he would fall over dead. He considers it, too, as a way out. It's all he has left, it's the only control he might have.
Except the fear goes nowhere. It slides through him forcefully, roaring through him. His heart beats frantically...loudly. The pounding he hears soon takes on life outside of him. It sounds like drums, fists against tightened animal skin.
When he looks around, he sees light of fire and he sees the smile of Roseanne as she stares at him.
The place they're in is out in the open and the fog has parted only for this space, for this circle of deadened grass. The beats reverberate throughout his entire body, his muscles, and he knows he's crying soundlessly, no voice being allowed to break through. The tears seem to stop at the bottoms of his eyes...caught, trapped, burning. He's forced to swallow the hurt, the fear.
Roseanne moves her hips and her arms sensually, rocking her head back, long hair streaming, scarves flowing. She's moving to a pounding, tribal rhythm and she's soon chanting verses...lines...words Todd can't understand...faster and faster she says the phrases, her body moving quicker and wilder. She's barefoot he sees and she's beating her feet against the ground, calling for someone, for a spirit it seems, louder and louder she's summoning.
He's standing...watching...his body is not responsive to the music… then he's lying like a mummy, trapped, unable to run, unable to answer her, unable to analyze, to think, to figure out an escape. He's unable to do anything. He can't even direct his eyes where he wants.
Suddenly, images start to come to him, visions, ones he can't change...
He sees himself as a fly trapped in a thick, unyielding web, spindly limbs unmovable in the gossamer white. And he hears the fly's voice, scratchy, clicking in terror and he sees the parts of him being attacked, eaten by a spider with a striking face, how lovely the eyes, how lovely the mouth, how other-worldly the teeth as it tears apart the fly's guts.
The vision changes and he's now on a gurney in a death chamber, about to die. He's innocent of the crimes! But he cannot speak, and the needle comes, it keeps coming, and he's going to die.
He feels the pain of everything and cannot do anything to alleviate it, he cannot scream, cry, meditate, work the dark power he thought he could manage. And what's worse, what's the real brain-punch, is that he knows, he understands why she's showing him these things.
A lesson in powerlessness, in domination.
The image changes again and he's flying through clouds, strapped to the flat bottom of a jet and it's maddening because he sees they're headed for the ground with no abatement in speed...faster, faster, the ground is coming...and he cannot scream...he cannot stop the event from happening.
The pictures change yet again and he's hanging on rocks on the flat face of a mountain peak, his fingers bloody...and a hawk picks at his open eyes, but he cannot turn his head, he cannot protect himself.
He can tell that he's lying on grass and he sees Roseanne with his blade in her hands. She's loving it, kissing the steel, smiling at him as a snake crawls over his ravaged body. She's standing over him, her feet on either side of him. The thumping rhythmic music is deafening and even if he could scream, he couldn't be heard by anyone...or even by himself.
She leans over and begins tearing at his shirt with the knife, tearing his pants...cutting his skin, nicking it. She's kissing the blood she's spilled, laughing…
"Are you afraid?"
He wants to say, yes, but nothing comes out. He wants to say he's sorry to her...but nothing comes out. At first. Suddenly, he hears his own voice and it says, "I am your servant, Roseanne Delgado, I am nothing in comparison to you. You are my master. I am powerless to you...I am afraid."
She throws her head back in savage laughter, loud, rolling peals of laughter, and she stops, having seen that the snake has made a revolution of the circle Todd's in and has come back to her...hissing, its tongue flickering in and out.
"My God," she says reverently, "How beautiful you are, my Loa, my wondrous, dark, powerful spirit."
She points the snake towards food laid out on a blanket, there's fruit, and carcasses-the original forms of which are unrecognizable. The bloody, meaty things could belong to...anything, man or beast. Todd watches the snake dance for Roseanne, slithering over the gifts, making its way to Todd. The snake runs along his body, in between the spread legs of Roseanne, and he's aware that the friction of the snake against his nakedness has caused a strong erection and he wants it to stop but he can't stop it from happening.
Roseanne screams delightedly at what the snake has done for her and she lowers herself, inserting him inside of her...an act that he cannot prevent, cannot respond to, not in pleasure, not in agony. He must simply watch silently, submissively. He cannot even picture alternate realities to ease the assault, the rape. He cannot imagine it's Téa who's there...or something entirely unrelated...he's frozen...he's Roseanne's victim.
She moves in time to the drums coming from some other place. Light from an unseen fire dances along the walls made of a drifting, watery fog. And she grinds her hips enthusiastically, firmly, and she's looking at him, watching him, her juices wetting him, and she makes him look at their joined bodies, his head lifting and his eyes forced to see. Then his head smashes back against the ground.
"How does it feel, Todd, to have someone overpower YOU?"
He cannot answer the way he wants because he knows what it's like, historically, from way before, and Roseanne sees his recall and laughs hard.
"Of course you know!"
And that's when the pain of what happened to him explodes inside of him, his guts being torn up with a violent, determined thing, and god he wishes he could cry because her rape is no longer a forcing of pleasure but a forcing of pain…
...the way he does it.
"Ohhh this isn't turning out like how you thought, is it? God, you feel good! God DAMN!"
...and now he sees himself at a sandy beach, his feet hopelessly stuck in the sand. A shadow is coming over him...and he when he looks up, there's a monstrous wave of water thousands of feet high bearing down on him. He will be crushed...drowned...suffocated. He cannot...scream.
"How does it feel, Todd?"
He's closer to ejaculating without pleasure- no, no, it's him but not him and he knows, he feels, the thing inside him is about to fill him with come with such searing fire and Roseanne is thrilled at it ...and she touches the snake's body...and bends to it, still working her hips...as she licks the snake's skin, as she kisses it in gratefulness.
She then asks the snake to crawl over Todd's face...to cover his mouth...to further ruin his sense of humanness, his value as a being born on this earth. She sets the snake on him to further prevent voice to his fears, to his seeking help...to his allaying of damage.
"You are mine," she screams.
Todd knows his wrists have been tied down and he knows his ankles are crossed, tied together, so he cannot move. He knows too that a strap runs across his chest further connecting him to the ground. He's dirt beneath Roseanne who's built herself into a massive pillar of spiritual strength, dark art the mortar, her energy the stones.
He watches Roseanne as she completes her domination over him and her motion is rhythmic, her body a ripple in water, her limbs the shuddering waves of palm fronds in a hurricane…
And at last, she screams as an orgasm tears through her, her hands grabbing her own breasts, kneading them to intensify her sexual satisfaction and she's bending to force her nipples into Todd's waiting mouth. He can feel their stiffening and he suckles at them like a starving calf because he knows just how powerful she is ...how very full of hatred she is and how consumed by mad, frenzied joy. The light he sees has been coming from her. She's the fire making the dancing shadows against the fog, she's the one with the sword tearing him to pieces as she forces him to ejaculate. Like before, life before.
He can't scream as he feels himself jerk into her body, as he feels himself coming, as he feels the wetness shoot up inside of him. And the feel of it is as consuming as he's ever felt, the intensity is so much it hurts in all directions. Tears spill from his eyes.
And that's when he feels her cutting him...cutting...slicing his belly...pain pricking him, stinging...but he knows she's not cut through muscle, she's not torn into organs.
And then she's on her feet, standing, wetness seeping down her thighs just as the wetness seeps out of him, down his thighs. The stuff from her then spills onto his chest.
She says breathlessly, "How does it feel now, baby...to be powerless? To be dominated?"
With that, she takes the blade and lifts it high above her head as she says, with a thunder-like tone, like a goddess making her pronouncement from somewhere on high, or very, very low…
"The suffering only begins here… because the children will die! Oh, yes...I haven't forgotten about them. They will die in front of you...in front of Téa. You will hear them scream...and you will NEVER FORGET me or what you did or what WE did...my slave...my SERVANT!"
The last thing he sees is a spark coming towards him, towards his heart.
And he cannot scream.
On his way out, RJ stops at Roseanne's room, figuring she's gotta be back by now. He knocks. No answer. He sighs, knocking again...still no answer.
After a second, he starts to get the sinking feeling that she hasn't been there at all, and his shoulders sink with oh-so-tired exasperation. Both of his charges have gotten away from him and while part of him is concerned...the other part-the much larger part-hopes they've both fallen off the face of the earth. He can just see Todd passed out on a bench in some park, and Rosie… Rosie...
...wait a minute.
He stops at the top of the staircase, a thought occurring to him. Is it just coincidence that they've both wandered off, or...? He curses under his breath, as he trudges downstairs, knowing, just knowing they're together, off playing their sick little S&M games, no doubt.
His blood starts boiling at the thought, at them, at their defiant disregard for him, for Téa, for family, for love, for everything that REALLY MATTERS.
Stupid, stupid...STUPID! IDIOTS! Worthless fuckin' pieces of shit...
The obscenities continue to whirl about in his head as he walks back down the road to the Lion's Tooth, slicing right through the fog like it isn't even there.
He bangs the door open angrily, surveying the room through narrowed eyes and everyone in the bar stops for a second, watching him, as if expecting him to whip out a machine gun and mow them all down or something. But RJ finds his contact over in the corner booth, and quietly walks over to him, braids floating behind him gracefully.
The rest of the patrons go back to business as usual and RJ sits down with a heavy sigh. They two men shake hands across the table, and the young man laughs.
"You look like shit, Gannon."
"Thanks. I feel like shit," he replies, nodding to the bartender, who sends an apprehensive server over. "Can I just get a cup of coffee, man?"
The kid seems shocked at his polite request then he nods and walks away, and RJ rubs his face...up and down, up and down, as if he could wipe the entire day-the last month, hell, the past year-just wipe it all away.
The server kid brings a mug right back, plopping it down in front of him, spilling a little. RJ picks it right up and takes a long sip, relishing the warm caffeine rush.
"I tell ya...this whole thing has been like ONE LONG NIGHTMARE," he then says.
His colleague nods, then sighs.
"Well, then this won't matter. It's kinda after the fact, but word's been circlin' everywhere since it happened...thought you should know."
RJ leans in, getting used to the sinking feeling he keeps experiencing. "Please tell me this has nothing to do with the crime scene we saw out there," he says, uselessly projecting his wishes.
"Oh, so you DID see it."
RJ starts rubbing his forehead, stressed. "What happened?" he asks, reluctantly.
"Not exactly sure. But ol' Danny Cavanagh and three of his best men are dead. All shot by the same person, apparently."
RJ drops his hand, more alert now. He thinks for a moment. "But...they didn't find Shelton...or anybody else."
The man shakes his head. RJ thinks some more, then he looks back at him. "Who's this Cavanagh?"
"He WAS one of the main guys on the bank crew. Probably the one who hired Shelton in the first place."
A silence passes, as RJ takes another sip of coffee, putting it together. His contact polishes off the last of his beer, wiping his lip.
"Musta gotten into it over somethin' BIG, though, for Danny to go all the way out there with that kinda backup."
"Yeah," RJ says quietly, starting to see it all in his head. Cavanagh must've known about Téa. Its's the only thing that makes sense. And he went out there to kill the lot of them, to silence all potential witnesses. A chill runs down his spine as he imagines the thugs training their weapons on Téa and the babies. Then his thoughts turn to Shelton who must have been the one to waste them all. He actually makes an impressed face to himself, having to admire the skills of someone who could single-handedly take on-and take out-four armed men. Once again, he isn't sure if Téa's being with him is scary...or a relief.
"Anyway," his colleague says, after a moment. "Shelton really fucked up. Wanted in the States and now a marked man here...hmmph. He better find himself a hole and burrow in for the next twenty years."
"Yeah," RJ says reflexively, but now all he can think of is the fact that Shelton did all that...for Téa. Shot his reputation to hell, put his own neck on the line, and murdered four people, all to protect her and those kids. It's disturbing, but also admirable at the same time, especially from RJ's own point of view as a career criminal.
He laughs to himself, realizing that Shelton's scoring more points with him than Todd who's currently residing in the lowest sub-basement of his opinion, right along with Roseanne.
What to do...what to do?
When the plane was finally ready to take off, what would he do? Todd and Rosie might never show their faces again, they might be gone for good. They might kill each other off. Who's to say? And how would he ever know? And would I even CARE at this point? he thinks. No...
...NO.
Téa is all he can really think of now, her safety, her kids' safety. God, he just wants to see her with his own eyes that she's alright.
That's all that matters now. I can't be responsible for those two freaks of nature anymore. They've made their choices. Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em BOTH.
With that, he gets up, throwing a bill down on the table to cover their drinks.
"Listen, man, I gotta make a call. But thanks for comin' out here, though, letting me know what's up."
His colleague gets up too, shaking his hand. "Not at all. Hope it helps ya."
RJ almost grins. "Oh, yeah. Sure did."
After Téa sees Joely off to bed, she walks around the doctor's quaint but spacious house, wandering like a friendly ghost, remembering different things as she passes each room. She comes down the stairs and ambles into the office, noticing the lights still on. Joely had left a classical CD playing, filling the room with her signature calm. Looking around the room makes Téa smile despite the bad memories.
This was where Joely worked her own magic, where she put the pieces of damaged people back together, to make one stronger, better whole. Hard work. In fact, Joely had accomplished what seemed impossible with Todd: she had helped him get to a quieter place, a safe haven where the baggage of his life couldn't touch him, a place where he could be himself, and experience a little happiness...a little peace.
But-considering recent events-had she really? Did Todd somehow manage to outwit her, consciously or unconsciously?
Did he fool HER, too, like it feels he did me...like he's fooled EVERYONE?
She sighs at that, walking over to the window. The CD finishes playing and the room gets very quiet, the space filling with a sense of waiting for something. Like a held breath. And almost like an answer, the phone starts ringing in the reception area outside. Téa looks over, seeing only the glow of the red light on the phone. She wants to pick it up, but it's not her home. Besides, it's the office phone. It couldn't possibly be for her.
Then the answering machine picks up. A tense silence follows as the greeting plays, then goose bumps pop up all over when she hears the voice…
"Uh, hey...Doctor Atherton...this is RJ Gannon. Listen, I know this is gonna sound weird, but uh...I'm looking for Téa. I have-"
Téa hears him sighing, sounding tired and desperate...worn out.
"Look, I'm not gonna get into it now, but...I have reason to believe she's there, in Montana, anyway. And seeing as you're the only person she would know there, I'm hoping she's contacted you. I know she's probably really freaked out and acting weird...and she's probably with...someone. She might not wanna talk to me, but...I HAVE to talk to her, so...could you please...ask her to-"
She can't resist. "RJ?"
Across the miles, her voice reaches out and touches him, and it feels like the warmth of a million hugs, relief like he's never known. He almost laughs with shock.
"Oh my god, girl," is all he can say.
And on the other end, Téa sits on the edge of the desk in the darkened outer office, smiling sadly, tearing up at the comforting sound of his voice. Nothing is said for a solid minute because there's too much to discuss. Neither knows where to start.
But finally, RJ sighs again. "You alright? The boys?" he asks, sitting down on the bed in his room.
Tea lets out a stress-filled laugh. "Uh...yeah. Yeah, I'm...surviving. How are you?"
He does laugh at that. "Well, let's just say I sho' am glad to hear your voice. And tha's about ALL I'm glad about."
Téa gets the hint. "Todd must be putting you through hell. I'm...I'm so sorry."
RJ shrugs, not even feeling the slightest bit guilty anymore about the fact that he has no idea where Todd is. "Yeah...he is. So is that bitch niece of yours."
Téa shuts her eyes, a confirmation she doesn't like, remembering her dream, its foretelling. "So it's true."
"What, that we busted her out? Yeah, it's true...and you can thank your whackjob husband for THAT ONE," he replies, pent-up frustration leaking out.
Téa buries her face in her hand for a moment, suddenly realizing what else RJ is probably going to tell her, what else the dream foretold.
"Is he with you now?" she whispers.
RJ sighs again. "Nope."
"What happened?"
He has to laugh at that, sort-of, because it's all just so… unbelievable. Incomprehensible. Disturbing. Disgusting. His laugh deepens to a seething growl. "Girl, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Yes I would," she snaps back, sadly resigned. "Go ahead, tell me."
"Well," he says, as he leans back on the bed, "The short version? I think...no. No, no, no...I don't THINK. I KNOW...that Todd and Rosie have been, uh… well… they're, uh… INVOLVED, y'know."
She doesn't say anything, but he can just see her face. He sighs.
"I'm sorry, baby. I don't know HOW it happened or when but the only thing they seem to be concerned about is each other...and not in a good way. I'm tellin' ya...I've seen a lot of fucked-up shit in my life, but this beats ALL."
Téa's eyes shut tight, her whole body hurting with tears trying to burst out. She knows RJ thinks it's jealousy but it isn't. It's the fact that Todd has given up on being a good man, a good husband. That the killer she's been dreaming of… might very well be real. That man? Would most certainly respond to Roseanne.
RJ hears her labored breathing on the other end, and shakes his head.
"Look, I...I called you because...I'm not sure what my next move should be. Plane's gonna be ready to take off in a couple hours and they both disappeared. I got no idea where to or if they even gonna come back. And I gotta tell ya', right now, I'm hoping they DON'T."
He pauses and Téa gets up and walks as far as the phone cord will let her, considering...everything.
"So I just...wanted to make sure you were alright, and...I guess...see what YOU wanted to do."
"What do you mean? Do about what?"
"Well...I mean, at first, the whole idea was to find you and get you back, safely outta the clutches of what's-his-face."
Téa chuckles softly and her quiet laugh makes RJ grin before he gets serious again.
"NOW, though...shit. Y'know at first, I thought YOU were the crazy one. And you might still be, but given what I've seen...I'm starting to understand why you left. I don't know that your choice in traveling companions was so smart, but, uh...I'm at the point where I just...I dunno. I guess I'm just trying to say that...it's your call. Whatever you wanna do, Téa. I'd really like to see you for myself," he says, his voice suddenly weakening a bit, "but I guess...I'll understand if you just wanna take your kids and disappear forever. In fact...the more I think about it, the more I think you SHOULD."
Téa squeezes her eyes shut, forcing the tears down her face. God… damn it. Is Todd's decline her fault? "You're so good to me, RJ," she whispers. Then there's another long pause; during which Tea tries to make a decision. But she finds that she can't. Not here. Too many memories line the walls of Joely's house, too much of Todd lingers in it, owns it.
She has to get out...away…
"Listen," she finally says. "I have to think about this. Why don't you just come here, to Joely's? Just leave them be… and come back. If I'm gonna go, I wanna see you first."
RJ nods, relieved to have a kind of plan. "Alright," he says. "I'll see you when I see you."
She nods too. "Okay," she says, more assuredly, more confidently, then hangs up.
RJ holds his cell phone to his ear for another moment, as if he could still hear her on the other end. Then he slowly flips it closed, feeling strange...good and bad, relieved and depressed...hopeful and scared. He looks out the window to gaze at the darkness and before too long, he can see into the distance, seeing the sky clearing.
RJ's chest flutters with nervous energy, hoping like hell that he can make that jump into the air before Todd and Roseanne decide to come back.
He huffs as he grabs his bag from his room. The pilot just called to let him know the plane's ready and he's so outta here. RJ actually smiles at the thought of seeing Téa again, thankful that things are going the way they are.
He feels good having decided positively that he's done with Todd. He thinks that once he and Téa see one another the answers will come, along with understanding and a kind of peace about Shelton.
He closes the door to his room behind him and sprints down the stairs. He paid for the rooms for the one night so there is no checkout necessary. Not that it matters since the owner has long gone to sleep. He steps outside the inn and pauses, looking at the last of the fog making way for the deep blue before a new day. It's a gorgeous dawn and he thinks one day he'd like to come back to England under better circumstances.
But then he hears footsteps approaching, and his pleasant, bubbly thoughts start popping, leaving nothing behind but the slimy mess. His head drops, braids falling along with his mood. He waits until the last possible moment to turn around, gears spinning madly in his head, trying to come up with some way out. But there's none...not without resorting to violence, anyway. So he turns…
...and sure as shit sees Todd limping down the road, coming toward him.
He is hunched as he walks, a slight limp attached to every step. His long black coat hangs still, unmoving in any breeze. His hair falls in his face, and it almost seems longer than RJ remembers. Shadows block the features of the man's face, leaving only the whites of his eyes visible. The still-lit streetlamps create eerie circles of light and Todd passes through each one. There's a rhythm to his approach. With each illumination, RJ sees longer and longer flashes of...damage.
The two men are finally close enough to see the details of one another and RJ immediately sees that Todd's been through something. He suddenly wonders if Roseanne is lying dead somewhere.
"You're...leaving?" Todd says in a ragged whisper.
RJ just stares at him, blankly, holding out a little hope that maybe he's not really there. But the seconds pass, and he doesn't seem to be disappearing. Fuck.
"Was about to. Where'd you leave Roseanne?"
Todd turns around and looks for a while into the distance. He says in the same low wrecked voice, "Don't know."
RJ's stomach does a quick flip, thinking for sure Todd's killed her. But then to his surprise, he spots Roseanne skipping along the stones...whistling a tune...
"Hi, RJ! Hey, are we going home now? Is that your bag?" She says this so happily it makes RJ want to vomit.
Fuck...fuck, fuck, FUCK...
"I don't believe this," he mutters to himself, as she turns to Todd.
"And where do you think YOU'RE going? Home sweet home? Ain't no such place for YOU, baby," she says.
Todd regards her with a face that seems broken, unable to express anything.
"I have something I need to tell Téa. I need to tell her then our business will be over." Todd drops his head, staring at the ground. Then he straightens up, taking a deep breath. "We'll be good," he says to RJ. "I won't do anything. I just want to go home, RJ."
RJ tilts his head, seeing something. "Are you bleeding?"
Todd looks down at his body and he sees his black shirt is open...and there is blood on the white tee-shirt just like RJ says and he instantly touches his neck. And remembers the blade coming down on him. He touches his chest where his heart would be. He learned something… yeah… he'd have to think on it a while.
"Just a bad dream," he says. "That's all. Sometimes...there's strange blurs with reality and—"
Quick as a snap, RJ grabs Todd's face, pressing toughened fingers against his face. Todd tries to turn away, but RJ won't let him.
"Look at me, man...do I LOOK like I give a shit?" he growls, and Todd raises his eyes to RJ, and RJ curses at what he sees there. Fear. Such blasted...fear. He's pathetic, a waste of the planet's precious oxygen. Hand still grasping his face, RJ shoves him backward, letting out an angry breath. The guy's gonna die out here without his help, and suddenly RJ hates him for making him feel responsible, for guilt-tripping him like this.
Whatever shit he just went through, he deserves.
Yeah, RJ thinks, he deserves it because he forgot the lessons he learned in prison, forgot right and wrong exist and that the two cannot blend. He forgot that evil cannot be controlled.
But all the same, RJ knows he's trapped. He has to take him back. But that doesn't mean that he'll let Todd get anywhere near Téa.
No way. Can't control evil...
He hears Roseanne giggling, and his eyes dart over to her. She immediately shuts up, biting her lip. RJ glares at her until she gets annoyed.
"WHAT?" she says, like a mouthy kid.
And after another moment, RJ picks up his bag and shoots it at her with the force of a cannon. It knocks her back and almost down. She just stares at him with that phony innocence, that mock-shock of hers. He lingers on her equally pathetic face then turns and starts heading for the car, without another word.
Within ten minutes of leaving the small town. RJ hears the happy snores of Roseanne in the back seat. Todd sits in the passenger seat, watching the road, unblinkingly. At next glance Todd is checking the wounds out; and he gasps shortly, rubbing his belly, or something near it. He wraps the coat around him and sinks deeply into the seat.
RJ asks, "What now?" in a voice absent of all possible sympathy.
"Nothing."
"The hell's wrong with you then?"
"A lesson in domination," Todd says simply. "I've ruined everything."
RJ just flicks his tongue against his teeth, half-laughing. Every nonsensical word he says, every idiotic thing he does, angers RJ now… and he fights the urge to just punch Todd in the head with his free hand.
Todd glances over at him-quickly, though-not wanting to start anything.
"RJ, don't worry about Téa. I'm not going home to be with her...or insist she stay with me. I'm going home to let her go."
RJ swallows that line along with his own violent urges and just keeps driving into the darkness to the airport. Next stop… Montana.
He wonders who will be letting WHO go.
To be continued…