He wasn't exactly sleeping, but the rattle of the doorknob was what roused him. The sound was followed by a swift rap. His eyes cracked open and he tilted his head slightly in the direction of the door. Whatever time it was, Jackie was here and trying to get into his office.
Whatever time it was, it was the wrong time.
His eyes were bleary. He'd been awake for so long that as he tried to move out of his chair, lethargy washed over him. He let himself droop back again, his head tilting forward. He'd been slowly finishing his bottle of bourbon throughout the night, contemplating the events of the last twenty years. He hadn't really realized until just today that that was how long it had been. It had been over half his life since the events he'd been so strenuously questioning Texas about had occurred. "Goddamnit," he muttered to himself, one of many curses he'd hurled at these memories, at himself, since he'd decided to shut Texas down. It had been the wrong thing to do. She'd just been so…so blunt about what had happened, and so outspoken in telling him how wrong he was. He needed to get that out of his face, and off of his conscience.
But this would never be off of his conscience. He had known it then and he knew it now. He'd failed Allison in so many ways, even when he'd been confident he'd done the right thing. That was painful enough without the accusations Texas had been laying at his feet.
He swiveled the chair slowly in one direction, trailing one foot along the floor, then swiveled it back, reaching for the bottle in order to swallow one last finger of alcohol. He just needed that to bolster him, to give him the strength of will to be able to force himself to move on with his day. But before his fingers touched the glass of the bottle the alert on his COM pad went off. He lifted it slightly to look. It was Jackie, now trying to call him. He nudged the device aside and carefully stood. He might need to wallow a little longer but it wasn't going to happen until after he handled some business.
He unlocked the door, opened it, and headed to Jackie's office. Most of his staff was here in the main part of the lab, and he saw someone look up from their desk at him as he walked by. He nodded toward the tech, trying to play it cool, like everything was normal. Jackie's office door was open, as it usually was. He went through and closed it behind him. "Jackie," he said.
She was giving him a strange look, eyebrows narrowed. She pushed her hair back, though it was already perfectly coiffed off of her forehead. "I've been trying to find you. Were you in your office?"
"Yeah." He swallowed and tilted his head briefly, stretching his neck. The amount of time he'd spent slouching in his desk chair wasn't doing him any favors.
Her expression shifted, a slight flattening of her mouth. "Leonard, are you drunk?"
"No, no," he said. "I've had something, but I'm not drunk."
She moved her hands to the edge of her desk, with a deliberate and subtle raising of her chin. "I couldn't activate Texas this morning. Is something going on?"
"Yes. She—" How could he say this? What kind of lie could he tell to cover up the disaster the night before had been? "Her programming…failed, last night. I spent a long time trying to hold it together, but she just…" He gestured with one hand. "…unraveled."
She curled her fingers inward as she lowered her hands into her lap, then stood. "Leonard, you may not think so, but you are drunk." Maybe it was true. A little bit true. He tried not to look abashed; if there was one person he would have preferred not to disappoint, it was Jackie. She looked at him for a long moment and he dropped his gaze. "We need to minimize the impact this will have with the employees," she said. "Head for the door once we leave my office. Don't speak to anyone. Go out and wait by my car. Once I take care of a couple of things I'll come out and give you a ride home."
No. She was being overcautious. This was ridiculous. "Just get me some coffee. I'll be fine."
"I'm not doing that, Leonard." She came around her desk. "You need to follow my instructions."
He sighed heavily, shaking his head. Nevertheless, he rubbed his forehead and turned around, opening the door, and headed toward the front of the building. He might be outwardly denying his state of inebriation, but he felt unsteady on his feet as he made his way to the door. He ignored his nearby employees as he passed by, wrapped up in his own thoughts.
Now that he was outside he was left to blink against the sunlight and try not to think about this situation he'd gotten himself into. He liked the dynamic he and Jackie had had up until now and he didn't want this to change any of that. Going by the brightness and the heat of the day it was already past nine o'clock. It looked bad, very bad, for him to have been here all night drinking.
Several minutes later she came outside. He stayed in place while she unlocked the car, not climbing in the passenger door until she had settled into her own seat. Her movements were purposeful, her face stern, as without a word, she started the vehicle and pulled out of the spot.
Neither of them spoke until after she'd pulled onto the main road that ran between the lab and his home. "Leonard," she said, "I've been wanting to talk to you about these incidents. It's unfortunate it came to this, but I didn't know how to address it."
"What 'incidents'?" This was the first time he'd taken a bottle of alcohol to the office with him. It had surely been a mistake, for more than one reason, but it was not a repeat mistake.
She kept her eyes on the road as she spoke, not sparing him any glances. "I've had my concerns for some time—for a long time, to be honest. You may not think it's obvious when you come into work with a hangover, but everyone knows it when you do. The employees talk about it. I can hear them out on the tech floor gossiping whenever it happens."
His brow knit together. Maybe he had thought it wasn't obvious, or maybe he hadn't cared. He hadn't figured it made a difference—he had the freedom as his own employer to choose when and how he made it into work. Besides, it didn't happen too often, or at least, he didn't think so.
"I'm not asking you to cut back," Jackie continued. "How much and when you drink is your business. I would prefer to see you cut back, but it's not my place to lecture you. I'm simply asking that you consider what message you're sending to your employees. There are plenty of reasons you might be out of the office. If you do need to be out on a particular day, I'll ensure that things continue to run smoothly. That's why I'm here."
He rubbed a hand across his face. She was in damage-control mode, he realized with dimly-registered gratitude. She was looking out for his business, for his own success, more than he had done. "You're too good to me, Jackie."
"You noticed," she said. He glanced over at her, looking for a trace of irony or humor in her expression, but there was none. "I can promise you that as long as I am in your employ I will continue to do what I can to help you succeed. But you know I have my limits."
It was true; she had threatened to leave when he'd tried to force her to accept the idea of buying the holographic scanning equipment without giving any evidence that it was a good investment. "Yes. I know."
"We'll leave it at that, then."
Yes, they would.
After that things remained quiet between them until they arrived at his house. He was grateful that she had remembered the way—she'd only been to his place once or twice to drop off some paperwork—but it allowed him the leeway to close his eyes and rest his head back.
"We're here," she said after pulling in front.
He opened his eyes and glanced over at her. There was no emotion registering in her facial expression, no frustration or anger. He blew out a sigh and reached for the door handle. "Thank you, Jackie," he said. "I appreciate everything you've done."
She gave a slight nod. "You're welcome. Keep in mind what we've talked about."
"Yes. I will."
"I'll be back to get you tomorrow morning. Get some rest."
He nodded and climbed out of her car, and walked toward the house. Luckily his father kept a spare key because he belatedly realized he'd left his keys on his desk, right next to his COM pad.
He shuffled through the front door, hanging the key on the key hook and bracing himself against the door after he had closed it. Now that he was alone the awful memory of that final conversation with Texas was invading his thoughts again. His fingers trailed down the wood before he turned to tromp up the stairs, slowly and deliberately, to avoid stumbling. He entered his bedroom, stopping to gaze at nothing blankly for a few moments before stripping down to his boxers. He needed to sleep this off and didn't need tormenting thoughts to come to him while he was in this state and deprive him of rest. He climbed into his bed, on his hands and knees like a child, settling in between two pillows and laying his head down.
The blow of what he had learned was already softening, as long as he didn't mull over that word. Rape. He shoved that thought away, but still, the knowledge of what he had learned sat on his chest like a heavy weight. There was to be no acute outpouring of grief over this—Allison's suffering was over, as well as Texas's. There was no way to atone for his mistakes now. But the guilt of it, the knowledge in retrospect of how he should have behaved, would be oppressive on his mind for some time to come. Eventually, though, he managed to fall asleep.
Lawrence returned home after a full work day that evening. He hadn't really expected Leonard to be there—his son was rarely home this early. But there he was, sitting on the couch in his boxers, staring into space.
"Oh, hey," Lawrence said, not commenting on the oddness of the situation. He simply moved over to the closet to put his briefcase away.
"Hey, Dad," Leonard said.
Ordinarily, Lawrence would have started a conversation at this point, but he watched Leonard for a moment before heading to the kitchen. Something was off, he could tell. He'd seen Leonard depressed enough times to read the signs. He put on a pot of coffee and pulled out a couple chicken breasts to make dinner. "You hungry, Leonard?"
Leonard reached up to sweep his hand through his hair. "I guess."
Lawrence acknowledged this with a hum and started the chicken in a skillet. Whatever was bothering Leonard would come out, and even if it didn't, some normality would help ground him. So for now Lawrence chose to begin talking about his day, about some of the goings-on in his professional life. Leonard wasn't that engaged in his chatter, but he seemed to be paying some measure of attention, at least. Lawrence offered him a cup of coffee and Leonard accepted, moving over to the table, though he didn't pay the steaming cup much attention after it had been placed in front of him.
Some garlic butter for the chicken and some vegetables on the side completed the meal and soon enough Lawrence had it on plates and set out on the table. "Here we go," he said, sitting down across from Leonard. He started eating, getting a couple bites into it before Leonard even picked up his utensils.
Lawrence set his fork down. "Leonard. You want to talk about it?"
Leonard's eyes focused on him, for the first time, really. He didn't seem surprised at the question. He pressed his lips together and blew a sigh through his nose. "Maybe."
"I won't push you," Lawrence said, beginning to work on his meal again.
Leonard took a couple bites before replying. "I've just been thinking about what's important in life. How much more important actions are than words."
That was a broad topic. Lawrence was sure this had been kicked off by something more specific. A person didn't become this morose about a vague concept like that. "Was this because of something you did? Or didn't do?"
Leonard licked his lips. "I just wish I knew if Allison felt loved. I told her I loved her, but…"
There it was. Though it was ancient history, Lawrence knew Leonard had never been able to bring himself to release the grip he still held on that time in his life. It was the only thing he'd ever seen Leonard become this contemplative about. "I can only tell you what I observed, Leonard. But I believe she did. She…changed, when she was around you."
Leonard seemed a bit surprised to hear this and he looked at his father with curiosity. "She did?"
"Yes, she did. She was more open. More willing to laugh."
"That's all?" Leonard said, somewhat dismissively. "She laughed?"
Lawrence wiped his mouth with his napkin and shook his head. "No, it was more than that. It's just hard to explain what I saw in her. But believe me, it was there. She knew."
Leonard nodded, his eyes trained on his plate, and cut off a bite of his chicken. Since he seemed wrapped up in his own thoughts once again, Lawrence finished off his own food and rose to empty the dishwasher. Any hints from him about Leonard needing counseling or medication were not to be forthcoming. Leonard was even more stubborn on the topic than his mother had been, and he was old enough now that Lawrence had learned he just needed to let go of the idea he might be able to help Leonard fix things.
Leonard got up eventually, cleared his plate, and set it in the sink with Lawrence's own dish. He then approached the cabinet and opened it, staring inside.
"Thinking about dessert?" Lawrence said, a bit confused as to why his son was doing that.
Leonard shook his head. "No." He closed the cabinet slowly and set his hand on the surface of the door. "No. Not a good idea."
Lawrence watched him turn and go up the stairs in some confusion. Once Leonard was gone Lawrence opened the cabinet to look inside. He reached in then, pulling out the bottle of bourbon that rested inside, and turned it over in his hand.
Leonard was sober the next morning—feeling wrung out, but sober. Jackie pulled up not long after he had come to wait on the porch. He felt some trepidation as he approached the car, but there wasn't much that could be done about it. He'd have to face her sooner or later, and at least this way it would be private.
"Good morning," he offered after he'd settled in his seat.
She didn't respond right away, pausing to pull the car away from the curb. "Good morning, Leonard. You seem to be in better shape today."
"Yes." He couldn't deny to himself that he'd been tempted to drink the night before, but he'd overcome that temptation. He knew it would be best to be dry when he saw Jackie again, and best to stay dry for a good while after this. Sometimes, he'd found, he just kind of needed to hit the reset button and stop drinking for a while.
She glanced over at him. "I disposed of that bottle of alcohol you had on your desk."
His immediate thought was that there had still been bourbon left in that bottle, but her doing damage control for him was more important than saving a shot for later. "Thank you, Jackie. I'm sorry you were left in the lurch by my…behavior."
She let a pause hang in the air once again. "I took care of things, Leonard, because I care about you and I care about your business. I spoke to you yesterday as your administrator. I'd like to speak to you now as your friend."
He knew what that kind of statement meant. It meant she was going to tell him to get counseling, tell him he needed to get help. His face hardened slightly. "Do it, then."
"Don't take this for granted, Leonard. Don't take me or your business for granted. One day the price may be more than you're willing to pay."
He waited for more. When she didn't continue he looked at her. "That's all you wanted to say?"
"I'm trying to be measured about it. You have to understand that I'm pretty angry with you right now. But it's not because of the position you put me in. It's because of the position you put yourself in. You're smarter and you're better than that."
He was nonplussed. "I let myself get overwhelmed, Jackie. I don't intend for this to become a pattern."
She turned a corner and glanced at him again. "No one intends for those things to happen. That's how they happen."
He sighed. "All right, I see what you're saying. I'll keep it in mind."
She adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. "Good. We have other things to worry about."
The conversation turned then, to discussing delegating out the procedures Texas had taken care of, and to other such details that needed to be sorted out in the aftermath of her deletion. That had been the furthest thing from Leonard's mind when he'd shut her down. It helped to pretend that Texas had suffered some kind of catastrophic failure, as he had told Jackie before. The managers would be able to handle most of those duties, they decided, with a few of them becoming Jackie's responsibility. By the time they arrived at the office things seemed normal between them, a thing he was grateful for. He'd had his concerns, all of which she had defied gracefully. She had a balanced way of doing things that he very much appreciated at this point.
They entered the storefront together, Jackie leading the way, and he stopped as she began to enter her office instead of passing on by. "I assume everything is prepared for the day? You weren't too overwhelmed by the extra work yesterday, were you?"
"I have a couple things left," she replied, already sitting down at her desk. "Don't worry about it, though. I've got it under control."
"Good. Thank you again." With that he continued on to his office. The door was closed, thankfully, though he knew Jackie had entered the day before. It was even possible he'd left the door open, considering she'd noticed his bottle of bourbon. He walked up to his desk once he'd entered and noticed with a jolt that Allison's disc was sitting out on its surface. Just when had he done that? He picked it up. There was no reason for Jackie to think anything of it, he admonished himself. Even if she noticed the name on the label, there would have been no reason for her to be concerned. He blew out a breath, ran his fingers over the label, and tucked it away where it belonged. He'd been too careless lately. Jackie was right, he needed to keep himself under better control. He'd never drink on the job again.