ART OF THE DARK - PART 30
The first colors of early morning lighten the sky around Joely's house, lifting the curtain of night, revealing the new day's stage. Dean rolls over and almost falls off of the couch he's been sleeping on. The sudden feeling of nothing beneath him wakes him up, just in time to catch himself. He puts an arm down on the floor, then uses it to push himself up. He looks around the large bedroom where he and Téa had decided to crash. The babies make themselves heard from the bed and he gets up slowly, stretching his stiff back.
As he peers over the mattress, he sees that Brendan and Evan are alone in the bed, surrounded by fluffy pillows to keep them from rolling. Téa is gone though.
Dean rubs his neck, staring down at the kids who've become so familiar to him now. Before, all babies looked the same to him, but now, he can tell just by looking at them which one is which. Brendan's on the left, bigger, stockier than Evan on the right...the fragile one. He makes no moves to touch them, just stares down at them like they're some kind of precious artwork in a glass case. But the boys react and seeing a face they know makes them happy and they both start laughing, in their way.
The magic of babies, Dean thinks, as their toothless, gummy giggles soften the seasoned felon, making him laugh right along with them. It's then that he spots a note on the top pillow. He picks it up, leaning over the babies who both reach up to grab at him.
Dean-
I spoke to RJ last night. He's on his way here to see us. He told me some pretty disturbing things about Todd and Roseanne-and I need to think a bit, away from everyone, before he gets here. Keep an eye on the boys for me. I won't be long.
Thanks-Téa
RJ...he repeats, the name sounding familiar…
Ohhh...Manning's buddy. Didn't I SHOOT him? And then fuckin' ROSEANNE on top of it all? They really DID bust her out...jesus...
He crushes the note in his hand with a surge of frustration, feeling stupid suddenly, wondering again why he's still there.
Why? Because you OWE HER, that's why...so suck it up.
He takes a deep breath in, sucking up air just as he commanded, eying the twin boys again.
"Well...guess it's just us 'til Mom gets back," he says. The babies react to his voice, happy to hear it, just plain happy. He shakes his head, smiling, enjoying them. But his smile fades fast as he gets the oddest, most ominous feeling all of a sudden...
...that he's not going to see them again after today.
Why today...?
He looks out the bedroom window, at the scenery, like it could tell him where the idea is coming from. He looks back at the kids, and then reaches down and picks up Brendan, with purpose, motivated now by something deep inside of himself. He doesn't feel that trepidation that always comes with handling someone else's children. In fact, as he sits down on the edge of the bed, cradling the tiny head in one hand, holding the boy out in front of him...i feels very different.
Brendan looks back at him with his usual calm. He yawns, arms suddenly springing up, slapping both sides of his head, then flopping back down. He keeps his eyes on Dean, as the lids start drooping and finally close. Dean just watches him for a while, overwhelmed by the idea that the boy is content enough to sleep in his arms which in itself means nothing, he knows that, but it doesn't feel that way. He feels the protectiveness that was reserved only for Téa, that's now stretching out to cover the boys. He'd protected them before, sure...but he never really considered them an individual moral obligation. They went wherever Téa went and so, if he protected her, he protected them.
But now he feels like he's actually seeing them for the first time, and feels that if something were to happen to either or both of them, it would affect him. Deeply.
Right or wrong, justified or not, he feels responsible for them and goddamned if he was going to let anything happen to them now.
The water flows along, powered by melting icebergs, generating its own strong current, pushing everything out of its way, wearing down rocks, forming canyons if given enough time.
It's time. Time's up...for ME, anyway...
That's what Téa thinks as she sits by the water, zoning out to the reflections on the surface. She'd left the house soon after talking to RJ, making sure the boys were fed and changed, scribbling a quick note to Dean that she isn't sure made any sense. She wrinkles her brow at that, thinking of him for a second, hoping he hasn't panicked and taken off.
Why, she then wonders. What do *I* care what he does? Why do I even want him around? Why am I being such a FLAKE about all this? What the hell is my problem?
She shakes her head, answering her own question aloud with a weak, "I don't know."
You don't know? Hell with 'you don't know.' That's a cop-out, Téa Delgado. You know exactly what's going on, RJ confirmed it. So just figure it out already. Stay, or go. It's that simple.
"Stay for what?" she says aloud again. "What's left?"
She reviews it all in her mind, rewinds quickly through the last few weeks. And it's gone so far beyond whose fault it all is now, it's too big of a mess to pin on just one person.
I guess we're all to blame, we ALL fucked up. And now...what?
The sound of nothing answers her this time. No voices, no dreams anymore to prod her, just a big nothing. She sighs, looking around at the surrounding vast magical-looking woods that offer nothing. At the glassy ice-blue lake that also offers nothing. Montana is gorgeous, no doubt, but the beauty itself is a grim reminder of dashed dreams.
She thought getting away from Joely's house would help clear her mind, and it has, in a way. It's just that after the clearing, there's nothing left. Nothing. She is spent, used up, drained. Not even enough will is left inside to make a decision. She wants to cry. Again. She's cried so often in the last year, it's become soothing to her. A release of stress at the very least but tears aren't coming. They're gone too, just like everything else.
She looks around, remembering the day Todd brought her here to reveal his surprise, his idea of building the new house. The realization of that idea sits behind her, way behind her, still unfinished.
So very sad...tragic…a tearful ending to a long movie.
And she shakes her head at the sad reality that even that memory-one of the better ones she has, certainly-stirs nothing in her.
Nothing. That word again.
Another word soon follows it, like a tagalong sibling…
Over.
Is this what over feels like?
She thought she knew what over felt like but this is different. All the times she walked out on Todd and he walked out on her...'over' was a word they used. So she thought she'd been through it already. But now, as she sits by this lake, in this place that used to mean so much to her...she feels nothing.
There it is again.
She closes her eyes, tries to grab onto something, anything good that might still be rolling around in her mind. But all she sees is shattered glass...ripped fabric...the burnt-out, smoking ruins of something that is no more.
This IS what 'over' feels like. Truly over. I reach into myself to pull out something more, to think, to feel, but I haven't anything left. No love, no hate, no fear, no anger...not even indifference.
Just...nothing.
She reaches out, touching the top of the water, slowly immersing her fingers, then her whole hand. It's cold, chilly liquid silk running through her fingers. She moves her hand back and forth through it, imagining that this is also what 'over' feels like. If she could give it physical properties, it might very well feel just like this: cold, soft, silent fluid running over you, around you, wearing you down over time until all that's left is a hole where you used to be.
Then she looks around again, sniffling through her chilled nose, suddenly wondering how long she's been sitting there. She's lost track of time. Lost track of everything. She stretches her kinked-up neck, realizing it's been at least long enough to get stiff joints. All that time and she still hasn't made up her mind.
Or have I? All this musing about 'nothing' and 'over'...is THAT my decision?
She stands up finally, rising from the remains of other things that don't exist anymore, feeling barely more alive than the bits of dead leaves and grass she brushes off of her coat. She remembers what Dean had said to her just hours earlier, remembers the feel of his strong arms around her. It made her feel safe from Roseanne, from Todd, from everyone's judgments, and from the world that seems hell-bent on making her miserable.
I love you, he said. And she knows-understands-everything else that he meant by that.
He'll protect me, protect my kids; he'll give up everything of his own to do it...EVERYTHING…
...something that Todd will NEVER do.
No matter how low or badly he might be feeling now about whatever it is he's done…he'll never renounce the darkness inside of him.
He loves it as much or more than he loves her or his children. It's THAT important to him and he'll never, NEVER let it go no matter what it costs him. She shakes her head at that, at the huge difference between Todd's 'I love you's' and Dean's. Todd does love her, in his way, and she still loves him, despite everything, loved that sense of belonging, connection, something akin to conjoined twins. They're too fused together to separate easily.
But even so, she's not the most important thing in his life. Never has been. She'll never be as important, as essential to his being as that darkness...that…
...evil.
What's happened to them has been a devastating demonstration of it. And it's not entirely his fault, of course, she knows that too, but it's something she has no chance against and maybe he doesn't either.
Do you get it NOW? When you play against the demon, Miss-Téa-Marisa-You-Think-You're-So-Fucking-Important-Delgado…
YOU WILL LOSE… every damned time.
Her features fall, crumple, her heart breaking. She's so defeated. She put their life together, bet it all, and watched it vanish right before her eyes.
So...what else is there to say now?
She'd been certain that she had to wait for him, had to face him down before doing anything. She'd been so sure of it. But now, she realizes, it's already over.
I've already lost.
That's right...you're the loser...and losers go home. Don't bother sticking around to shake his hand. Just take your sorry, unworthy butt off the field...and go lick your wounds somewhere else.
She sniffs at that...shoving her hands in her pockets and walking back to the car.
Game over.
Joely throws some clothes on before going downstairs. She sighs heavily as she does so, wishing she didn't have to go to the hospital today, really wishing it now that Téa had suddenly shown up. She knows things must be at a most desperate point for Téa to entrust her and her sons' safety to the man who kidnapped them. She worries about Todd and wonders what the hell went wrong, feeling responsible, and a little guilty, too, like maybe there was something she didn't see when she was treating him, something she overlooked…
...or something he didn't want her to see?
She just doesn't know. She shakes her head as she makes her way downstairs. As much as she wants to help, she knows she can't. Not anymore. She'd been okay for so long, but now she's just too tired, too sick. And she just doesn't have the strength left to fight for herself and for Todd, too.
She walks slowly toward the kitchen, brow wrinkling when she hears noises coming from it. She looks in, and her eyes widen when she sees Dean taking care of the babies, all by himself. She hovers by the door, staring hard at him. Dean sees her and a horribly awkward silence fills the room. Joely's eyes narrow, and she looks back and forth between him and the twins.
"Where's Téa?" she finally asks, sternly.
Dean sighs heavily, as he shifts Evan to his shoulder.
"She went for a drive. She needed to do some thinking."
Joely sniffs indignantly, conveying all of her righteous disapproval.
Dean then says after a moment, "Look, I KNOW what a lousy situation this is, and I KNOW you don't want me here. But the fact is that TÉA wants me here. She asked me to take care of the kids while she was gone. So that's what I'm doing."
"Is it?"
Ohhhh, she's so VERY English, Dean thinks. The Brits had such a way of making words bite, like no other race of people on the planet...he half-laughs it off. "Well...hey, y'know...she's not here now, so go ahead. Say what you wanna say. I'm a big boy."
Joely knocks her head back, chin up, absolutely taking him up on his offer.
"Very well," she says, "I think you're vile. Disgusting. What you're doing to Téa is deplorable and the sight of you with your hands on those precious children makes me want to vomit."
Dean does a take at that. Has to. He just got slapped...HARD.
"Jesus," he mutters, "you don't even KNOW me."
"Nor do I wish to."
Another tense silence passes, during which time Dean tries to decide if it's even worth it to try and defend himself to this woman. He sort-of feels like he has to but she's a wall, unmovable, hard as rock. He studies her with a new awareness and respect that only comes from going head-to-head with a worthy opponent.
"And what is it you think I'M doing to her? She's perfectly capable of making up her own mind," he says, finally.
Joely takes that in, leaning against the doorframe. "You're taking advantage of her. She's as vulnerable as a person can get, that's obvious, and you're using that."
"For what? What do you think I'm GETTING outta all this?"
"You're wedging yourself into an already delicate situation just to make SURE it falls apart because you want to be there to catch her when it does. You want her for yourself."
Evan makes some fussy noise, squirming a little, so Dean eases him off his shoulder and back into his seat. He lets Evan hold onto his finger, though, as he looks back up at Joely.
"Mmm...that's, uh...very analytical of you. But with all due respect, you don't know shit."
Joely almost smiles at that, tilting her head to the side, interested in his defense of indefensible conduct. "Really," she says.
"Yeah. Really."
"Well. I DO know that Téa's very dear to me, as is Todd. And I DO know that YOU have caused them BOTH untold amounts of pain, so tell me...what else IS there to know about you? What am I missing?"
Slapped again...Dean feels a fleeting urge to slap her back. Literally. But it passes, and he's grateful, running his tongue along the inside of his lip. "Y'know, I'd tell you, but...I'm guessing you don't really wanna hear it."
Joely nods, ever so slightly. "Mmmm. You would be right."
They both hear the approaching car then, undoubtedly Téa returning. Joely looks Dean up and down, as if doing a sort-of last-minute analysis. Then she says quietly, "If you care anything for her wellbeing, you will remove yourself from this situation."
He consideres her words, maintaining his cool as best he can. Then says, "Ya know, if anyone oughtta be REMOVED from this situation, it's Manning. I don't think you fixed him as well as you think you did, DOC. With all due respect." Dean gets some momentary satisfaction out of the infuriated light in her eyes before Téa appears in the doorway.
She takes in the scene, noticing the definite chill in the room. Joely turns her head slightly to look at her but doesn't say anything, and doesn't have to. Téa just sighs, gently touching her arm as she walks in to get to her sons. She walks around the table where Dean has put the seats, and stands beside him, looking at the boys.
Joely looks at the extremely skewed portrait in front of her, and isn't sure whether to cry or throw something at it. Combined with Dean's last stinging remark, she suddenly feels like a professional failure. She takes a hard breath in at that and says, "Well. I'm off to hospital for treatment today. I probably won't be back until tomorrow."
Téa nods sadly. "Um...do you want me to drive you?"
Joely just breathes a humorless laugh. "No thank you, love. But I would like a word with you...outside."
Tea gives Dean a quick glance and then follows Joely down the hall and out the front door. She can feel the cold anger rippling off the doctor, and feels terrible, like she has betrayed her somehow. Téa supposes she might have. After all, Joely is almost family to Todd. And any loyal family member would be… well… pretty goddamned pissed off about Dean. Or any other lover at all.
Joely takes her keys out of her purse, twirling the key ring around her finger once before clutching it in her fist. "He said you had to do some thinking."
"Yes...I talked to RJ last night. He's been with Todd since I left. And he told me that...um..." she shakes her head, not even wanting to say it.
Joely waits for a moment, and then prods her, her patience and energy wearing thin.
"Told you what?"
Téa huffs, "That he and Todd helped Roseanne escape from jail, that they've been looking for me...and that...that Todd and Roseanne have been, uh…"
"Have been WHAT?" Joely pushes, more aggressively, and Téa's eyes lock back onto hers.
"Fucking, Joely. My husband...and my niece...are fucking. Excuse the French."
Joely's mouth falls open. "What?"
Téa shakes her head and raises her eyebrows in a tight, yeah-that's-what-I-said look.
Joely glances away, stunned, all her aggression shot right down.
"Oh my god," is all she can say. Professional failure indeed.
Tea tries to shake off the sting of what RJ said, hearing it out loud sounds worse than in her own head, an impossible thing, but of course, it's not easy. It sticks to her like chewed-up gum to fingers, slimy, messy strings that won't break no matter how far you stretch them.
"Y'know, I...I can't even say that I'm angry about it. Because I guess...I deserve it. Right?" she asks, looking at Joely with wet eyes. Tears have finally returned.
"Oh, god, Téa," Joely whispers, giving her a shock of a tight hug. "No, no, you don't deserve that."
"Don't I?" she replies, head on her shoulder. "Todd's with Roseanne, and I'm with Dean. So we're even."
The with… was a euphemism. Joely pulls back and her face sinks from shocked to devastated. "Oh, no...you didn't..."
Téa pulls away from her, nodding. "I did and the really sad thing is...I'm not the least bit sorry about it. Not now."
Joely looks a little unfocused for a second, and she starts rubbing her forehead, suddenly feeling like her head might explode. "I don't even know what to say, love."
"There's nothing TO say. RJ's coming here today. He left Todd and Roseanne behind. So I'm just gonna wait for him to show and after I get things straight with him, I'll be leaving. WE'LL be leaving."
Joely just shakes her head, so sadly, out of words.
Téa rubs her runny nose, sniffling. "And um...just so you know, by "we" I mean me and the boys. I won't be WITH Dean after today. He made me an offer a while back to split the money from his last job and go our separate ways. I'm gonna take him up on it."
"Where will you go?"
Téa shrugs. "Not sure yet. But definitely NOT back to Llanview. I am ready for a new life. Todd has finished off whatever was left."
The two women stand in silence for a moment, both looking down. Then Joely looks at her watch, cursing to herself. "I have to go," she says. "But look...if you need more time, stay. It's alright."
Téa musters a thin smile, nodding. "Thank you, thank you for everything, Joely. I'm so sorry to drop all this in your lap, especially when you're dealing with your own problems. I'm really, really sorry."
Joely smiles back, shrugging it off, touching her cheek lightly. "Maybe I'll see you when I get back, then?"
"Maybe," Téa whispers and Joely nods, giving her a kiss on the cheek before walking down the stairs. Téa watches her get in her car and drive off, reminded of the very first time she drove up to this place.
She was so hopeful then but she can't remember what it felt like now. She takes a few deep breaths, letting the air relax her as much as it can. Then she goes back inside to wait for RJ, wanting very much to see her friend again. She tries to remember what RJ looks like as she walks down the hall, tries to remember what it felt like to just hang out with him like they used to do...tries to remember a time when she didn't feel this bad.
As she appears in the kitchen doorway again, she sees Dean with his head down on the table, resting on one arm, dozing off as he rocks the boys' seats with his other hand.
So tired...we're all just so tired...and sick...sick and tired.
She walks over to him, touching the top of his head gently, feeling his skin under the slight growth of hair. He stirs, growling like a waking bear into his arm before looking up at her.
"I have to tell you something," she says, with a sad smile. He keeps looking at her, waiting, and she squats down, looking up at him, keeping a hand on his arm. She swims in his steady gaze for a moment that's so attractive, so needed, but so disconcerting at the same time.
"I've decided to take you up on your offer if you're still willing to do it."
He straightens up a bit and stares at her for a while longer. Téa sits patiently underneath his unreadable look, not daring to hope or wish for the best anymore, just filled with a sad acceptance of whatever comes.
Finally, Dean sniffs and stretches both of his arms out in front of him casually, almost like she didn't say anything at all. Then he turns on the chair to face her, leaning forward on his elbows.
"I'm just gonna tell you this...and if you still don't wanna...y'know...then, fine," he says.
Tea inches closer to him, listening.
Dean keeps his eyes down for a moment, thinking...really thinking about what he's going to say, as if it's going to be the most important thing he has ever said. Then he sniffs again, rubbing one of his tired eyes before looking at her directly.
"I know that because of what I did, that I have no rights when it comes to you. And I know that I'm only here to do what you want. What you need. I shouldn't EXPECT anything from you, and, and I don't. But...I just want you to understand something."
Téa nods, encouragingly.
His voice dips down lower, even quieter. "I meant what I said. And I just...I wanna make sure you know that. It's not like being with me would be another dead end for you, because I'd give it all up. I would give up EVERYTHING for you, Téa, every damned thing."
Her view of him suddenly blurs as her eyes fill up with tears. She nods a mild understanding, but starts crying so she can't say anything. She rises up on her knees and wraps her arms around his neck and he squeezes her back through her coat, putting his mouth by her ear again, just like he did the night before.
"You don't have to go it alone. I'll stick by you, take care of you, take care of your kids. I'll protect you from anything, from anybody who tries to hurt you...and I'd love you for the rest of your life."
Téa squeezes him tighter at that, still unable to say anything. Her heart clenches along with her hands, weakening at the honest, simple offer he makes, with no dark uncertainties attached to it. She can't help but reconsider. My god, she thinks, what would she be willing to give up for love? She doesn't have to think very deeply. She'd done it so long ago.
It's why she's here.
She pulls back from him, keeping a hand on the back of his neck. She looks into his eyes and smiles at him...a smile...that tells him everything. The answer is still...no.
He closes his eyes and feels her tipping his head down until it touches hers. He has to squeeze his closed eyes at that, feeling like absolute shit...but okay at the same time. An impossible mix...but still, he feels it like a weight, taking turns pressing on him and then lifting.
Téa touches her nose to his, then her lips, soft and light like a feather. She gives him a kiss that he can barely feel-but it affects him like nothing else he's ever experienced. And he suddenly gets that weird feeling again, about today.
You will never see them again.
He opens his eyes and looks directly into her. And she picks up on something more than this decision, picks up on his concern. She runs her hand along his face, trying to soothe him and soothe herself. And when he suddenly pulls her into a deeper kiss, she just goes with it, allowing him to bruise her lips, to squeeze the breath out of her, to love her. Love that's just like everything else about him: simple, straightforward... nothing hidden, implied or expected. She treasures it, tells herself to remember it...because she knows she'll miss it after today.
Today.
The sand moves easily beneath Todd. He walks barefoot and the give slows his progress. He's sure of his destination, he has to get there, but consciously, he cannot envision exactly what it is he's after.
Determination pushes him and he cannot stop. His hair hangs in his face as all his attention is on the grasping grains and he's exhausted, shivering cold. He wishes for his coat because he feels so exposed. It's a cold beyond nakedness; he feels as if he has no skin. He's stripped of everything.
Rain fires through the gusty air like needles, blackish clouds swirl above, threatening to split open. What's behind the cover, he doesn't want to know. He peers upwards, warily. Sobs from all around catch his attention, the grief-stricken wails of a woman…
Like with his destination, he knows what she's lost, but he cannot give the thing life. He feels the sadness she does and feels helpless to ease her pain. There is nothing he can do for her. When he turns to the shore at the sound of a crashing wave, he gasps in awful, sickening realization.
The water is blood, seaweed-infused, glutinous blood. It rolls across the hardened beach and sticks to the rocks, dead fish, plants...and that's when hears her sing-song, pulsing voice...but he cannot see her.
"Did you think they'd live? Did you think you could stop me from enacting my vision, my dream, my hopes, with all your darkness and power?"
"What have you done?"
Todd asks the question, already knowing the answer.
"Your children are dead. One slash caused the other to follow with a stopped heartbeat. How close they were. Twins are so special, such miracles of life."
"No...no..." Todd falls to his knees, sinking into the blooded sand, the mess sticking to him, staining his skin a bright red.
"I hear Téa, do you? She's crying, screaming. Do you hear it, oh-so-powerless one?"
"I hear her," he groans.
"Breathe the air, my dark lover, breathe her anguish into you. Let it move through you like poison...like acid...burning as it flows..."
He does as she asks of him, absorbing Téa's pain and horror at what's happened. He immerses himself in her hatred, in her blaming him for the loss, and he soon walks into the reddened, viscous water with the idea of death beating within, giving in to the ocean's haunting and seductive call, and the tide quickly engulfs him, pulling him outwardly toward the openness, and he's sinking...drowning...and it is then he knows he has made a choice.
It was under his own power that he'd let the ocean take him.
He had the strength to shut Roseanne out, to sleep, to close his eyes and ears to her. He thought he'd lost the ability...that he'd become her submissive.
No...no...he's free.
As he drifts well below the waterline, he kicks his legs solidly and swims up...up...and he sees the blood has vanished. He's in the deepest blue-green water, tasting salt on his lips.
He laughs. He's changed the world. He looks up, far above. The clouds have opened up…
..and the lightning tells him all Hell is about to break loose.
"I will crush you, my bitch queen, squeeze you," he says to the sky, to the voice that had once surrounded him as he wades back to shore, "until it's your blood I taste, until you are simply a dream."
The pilot of the Jamaican mob's private jet speaks calmly, advising the three passengers that they'll be landing in Great Falls within the hour.
Todd glances around the cabin, surreptitiously searching for Roseanne, shaken by the vision he just had and trying to put it out of his head. A stinging sensation on the skin of his belly screams for relief and he sticks his hand below the beltline of his jeans to press against the wound. He's deathly afraid of Roseanne, so afraid he won't even get up to clean the cuts she put on him.
There's blood on his hand and at the sight of it, he starts to breathe hard due to stress and dread. He holds his breath and then lets it out through his nose, thinking nice thoughts, thinking sunlight and love. Aren't those the antithesis of darkness and evil? Shouldn't thinking of opposite forces work against the bad?
He imagines the fear is lessening. Yeah, he thinks as he fists his hands, he's not hers, he's not her servant like she wants. He's not powerless. Certainly not.
The dream said he had a choice and he forces himself to grasp that reality. He's about to see Téa again and the boys. Wishes fervently he could feel good about the meeting, but he doesn't. The pain on his belly intensifies and he hunches to alleviate it, groaning aloud, unconsciously. His head feels it's going to burst from pain.
RJ is standing over him within a minute, glaring at him.
Todd looks up, scowling, "What are YOU lookin' at?"
With the most unsympathetic tone and blank expression, RJ replies, "Are you dying or what?"
"Fuck off," Todd growls as he gets to his feet, pushing RJ out of the way. He shuffles toward the back of the plane and passes by the bitch who is softly and happily snoring. Todd cringes with the vilest of thoughts, thinking of the things she did to him… of the snake crawling over his body… how it entered him… how it tore him up… and he shudders with repulsion and persistent fear, continuing his push to the bathrooms. Looking behind him, he notices RJ following him.
"What do you want from me, Gannon?"
"Just makin' sure you keepin' your hands off Roseanne."
Todd shakes his head and puts his palms up prayerfully, turning forward and keeping his back to RJ, taking more burdened steps.
"As God is my witness, Reverend, I will not lay a hand on the Devil's whore so long as this plane is airborne. Praise the Lord."
RJ hisses, walking ahead, maintaining his intensive watch. He pauses as Todd goes into the bathroom. Listens as the faucet is turned on, able to tell Todd is putting his hands into the water, washing his face. Then there's quiet.
RJ plunks himself down on one of the seats that's got a good vantage point. From here he can see the bathroom door and the coma-like Roseanne. His stomach lurches to see her – she's so satisfied, sleeping like a well-fed baby, her body curled in her seat, her muscles slack, her skin soft and features peaceful. Makes him ill.
His attention is drawn back to the walkway at Todd's animalistic moaning, at the sound of his retching. It's such a turn from the renewed sarcasm moments earlier that even Roseanne stirs. She doesn't wake though. Just adjusts her position.
Getting up, RJ goes to the door to the bathroom and bangs hard. It's not that RJ gives a shit, it's just that he wants to gauge how much time this is going to take away from the drive to Téa. He wants to know how this is going to play out with regard to his babysitting duties. When Todd doesn't answer, RJ opens the door…
… and there he sees Todd, pale, sweating, sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up. His long, black coat sits in the corner of the small room, crumpled like the fur of a skinned monster. RJ sighs, his only emotion being that of supreme annoyance at this point.
It draws Todd's attention, though, and he looks up. "She cut me. The bitch fucking cut me."
"Why am I not surprised?"
"You don't understand."
Todd drops his legs slightly, his thick button-down, dark-green shirt falling open, his black denim jeans already unbuttoned...and right below his navel are some ugly, straight gashes, bloody.
RJ makes a slightly affected face...because, holy shit, the cuts form a gruesome "R."
Todd starts to laugh, his head hitting the wall, on the verge of sounding maniacal. The hollow chuckles subside and he groans, "Ohhhh, isn't that just fuckin' beautiful?" His eyes half-roll upwards and he jams the heels of his hands into them, pressing down.
"You know...you know...what what what what...the fuck do I do with this? Tell me...tell me...what did she win?"
"The fuck should *I* know? What're you asking ME for? I mean, YOU TWO are the 'powerful' ones," RJ answers, making little quote marks with his fingers. "YOU guys are the ones all tapped into the infinite and shit. YOU figure it out. I'm just the fuckin' hired help, remember?"
There is only silence in response. Todd buttons his jeans and his shirt. He crosses his ankles and looks morose there against the wall, staring at the lights above him. He looks...broken. Done.
RJ almost feels sorry for him. ALMOST.
"Why did this happen, RJ? What did I do to mess up the universe, to make it so fuckin' angry at me?"
RJ shakes his head, leaning back against the sink. "News flash, boy, this didn't JUST HAPPEN to you. You weren't just cosmically dumped on. YOU got into this mess all by your lonesome, and in the process, you dragged MY ass into it. But I guess I have no one else to blame but myself...I shoulda just said NO."
"I was desperate...they were gone. What was I gonna do? Let them walk out of my life? With SHELTON? With my boys?" Todd started with a whisper but his voice gains in strength as he argues.
RJ says nothing.
"I was cornered and when that happens...I do what I have to. It's ...it's...it's all I know. I know you get that. I know you do."
RJ still says nothing.
Upset that RJ's unmoved, Todd's pitch heightens. "They left me... she… left me with nothing. And she didn't even tell me where she went...or even WHY! I had guesses...but no fuckin' answers. And then Rosie...she played with me...mind games...and I had to dig in deep to deal with her. And then it got real clear...she had an in to Téa ...and I needed it, wanted it. Because I was going to lose her forever without knowing ANYTHING!"
The silence continues and he knows it's a lost cause to explain himself. So he settles back, looking down. "Except when I went to that place inside me, when I reached for what I needed to handle Roseanne...RJ, man...it's the worst, it's who I AM. I thought I could manage it, use it. But it just blew up in my face. Kismet, destiny. I'm not meant to win. Maybe that's what the R means. Recidivist. Forever damned to repeat… rewind..."
RJ finally sighs harshly, his mouth tight with disapproval, with disgust, and just a hint of sadness. He looks toward Roseanne and says softly, "I don't know what you want me to say here, man. You two are the only ones who know what went on and why. I ain't got NO answers." He pauses, working hard to put aside his anger, to not judge. To not say, the R on your belly stands for ROSEANNE, bitch!
Todd drops his head, fingers of one hand covering his eyes.
"I got scars," RJ finally says, "...from bullets, knives. If a woman runs her hands across the back of my black head...she'll feel a dip in my skull...where the butt of a gun got me. I ain't unmarked."
RJ leans down toward Todd just a touch.
"Difference is? I'm on my own two feet. You ain't."
With that, RJ turns, his long braids hitting the doorway, a kind of drumming, announcing his grand exit. Right before he leaves though, he turns to Todd and hisses… "Maybe that 'R' stands for rapist. Maybe you ought not have raped her. Maybe you wouldn't have ended up with a fuckin' R cut into you, motherfucka."
He wanders away from the bathroom, leaving Todd staring into the space where he'd once been. He reaches for his coat and withdraws his knife.
"I was pushed," he whispers petulantly.
He studies the cuts once again. And nonsensically, he realizes that if Téa sees that "R"...if they have any chance at all at any kind of future...wouldn't this just kill things?
He unbuttons his jeans further and stares at the blade a moment...maybe two… then gritting his teeth, he makes a few more cuts. It's not an "R" anymore...it's just a mess.
With an inaudible grunt, Todd stands and stares at himself in the mirror. He glimpses the blood tattooed on his skin, still able to see the "R"...leaking now...running down towards the brown curls of hair in a curtain of obscene red.
Roseanne...rapist...recidivist...or is it a sign of resurrection...rebirth?
He's got no fucking idea. He also doesn't know what he's going to find when he gets home to Montana. He thinks of the lake not so far away from the unfinished house, the mountains that serve as a backdrop to a lost future. The image of Joely waving a warm hello from the door of her place nearby nearly makes him cry. Her home saved his life once, maybe Montana air will cleanse him again, maybe he'll really remember love...and what it's like to win.
One thing he knows, is that he's going to walk up the road...on two feet. He'll tell Téa he loves her, he'll say it's okay, that he's not going to stop her anymore.
He'll also say, keep in touch, let me know the boys are alright, that she's alright. He'll be so… evolved.
He hopes she'll be free of Shelton, though.
That...he does wish for.
But...he'll let her go regardless. He will.
Positively...let her go.
Ta ta for now, darling! Do write!
And the darkness? Roseanne following him there?
"Power...it's faulty...flawed...I don't know what to do on this point."
"Am I going to survive?"
Roseanne's ghostly voice intrudes into his thoughts, into his head, and he hits his head with closed fists until there's no more voice.
But then he thinks on her words.
Survive?
Todd then answers aloud.
"I don't know who's gonna survive, if anyone will at all."
The plane jerks noisily with the lowering of the landing gear and the pilot's voice comes on to tell the passengers to buckle in.
Buckle in? No shit. Brace yourself, Manning...it's gonna be one hell of a bumpy ride.
To be continued...