A Few Days Later
Lee
He was pushing around some bacon in his frying pan on the stove when Norah came upstairs. He was doing his best to remember that she was now in the house with him. He had all his weapons put away, and he was careful to remember to always be dressed.
Rupert was sitting patiently beside him, patting him with a paw every so often to remind him that he was there. Lee tossed him a piece of bacon, which Rupert snatched midair. Lee wasn't even sure if the dog chewed it or if he just inhaled it. He gave him a look, to which the dog tilted his head back at him.
"Hey," Norah said, moving to the fridge.
"Hey."
"Smells good," she noted, pulling out her orange juice.
"Is that a hint?"
"Not at all," she answered, drinking right out of the carton. Lee almost laughed out loud. She definitely wasn't a girly girl. He turned his head to hide his smirk. She went to sit at the table and started flipping through the newspaper. He knew she was looking for a job. Rupert went to rest his head on her lap, and she stroked his head and ears absently while reading.
"Find anything?" Lee asked, going to join her and setting a plate of bacon down in front of her. She looked at him with surprise but didn't reject it. She picked up a piece and took a bite off of it thoughtfully.
"No," she answered.
"What are you looking to do?"
"I have no idea."
Lee wondered about her past jobs and how they had ended. She'd basically packed up and headed off in a car. Didn't that mean she had no commitments back home?
"You like construction?" he asked casually. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he knew she needed to pay him rent somehow.
"Well, I've never tried it, but I also never tried crime scene clean up before, and that wasn't too hard," Norah answered. Lee choked on his bacon upon hearing this. He thumped his fist against his chest, trying to get some air. She was giving him a concerned look.
"What did you say?" he asked. Had she said crime scene clean up?!
"Crime scene clean up," she answered, confirming it. Lee had to resist laughing again. He was the one who caused a need for clean up, and she used to be the one to clean it up. His jobs weren't crimes, though, not in his mind. They were necessary acts of violence to prevent further violence or terror.
"How the hell did you get into that?"
"My sister was screwing around with her married ex-boyfriend, and he suggested it," Norah answered simply.
"What?" There was so much to that sentence Lee couldn't wrap his head around.
"He's a cop. He said there was good money in it," she explained. "So my sister, Rose, decided to jump from cleaning houses to cleaning houses that had something bad happen in them." Something changed in her voice at this, and she cleared her throat.
"Interesting," Lee said, not knowing what else to say. He'd never thought about the clean up part. Someone had to do it, though. It was bringing up thoughts for him that he discovered he didn't really like. Norah's phone rang, and she flicked it open casually and pressed it against her ear.
"Hey, Dad."
Lee did his best to tune her out, but he couldn't help but listen.
"I'm great. Yea, I promise. How's work going? Still throwing up?" Norah asked, her tone teasing. She listened for a moment. "Ah, you get used to the smell. What do you mean I didn't? Of course I got used to it!" A man's voice talked in her ear for a bit. "Well, Rose is a damn liar." The voice continued. "It was one house! God! When is anyone going to let that go?" Norah's face was a bit scrunched up at this. She looked annoyed. Lee finished his breakfast and tossed the last piece of bacon to Rupert, who caught it easily. He was putting the dishes away in the sink when she finished her call up.
"I'd love to have you visit one day," she said. "I miss you. Yes. I love you too. Have a good day." She hung up and sighed. Lee didn't say anything as she brought her plate to the sink too.
"Were you serious?" she asked, making him look at her.
"About?"
"The construction thing?"
"Yea."
"You do it?"
"Yea."
"I thought you worked out of the country a lot?" she asked, peering at him.
"That's my second job," Lee answered, which was true.
"And what is that?"
"None of your business," he told her, and she rolled her eyes.
"Fine. I won't ask. But as for the construction job, I'm in."
"Okay," Lee said with a slow nod. "Let's go see what we have for you tool-wise. You better put on clothes you don't care about."
"Sure thing, boss," Norah said, bobbing her head. She disappeared downstairs while he rooted around for an extra hard hat and tool belt. He did private contract work, so Norah would be working for him. He hoped she knew how to swing a hammer. He had a feeling he might regret this.
Rose
She was sitting in her doctor's office and feeling as though she was being judged. Dr. Vernon Cope was in his late 50s, dark hair greying and crow's feet by his eyes. He was sitting there looking at the results from her blood test, and she just knew he was thinking it. She knew because she had been thinking it every day since she took the home pregnancy test.
How could you have let this happen again?
Rose felt her face burn with shame. She knew she shouldn't feel shame, that these things happened, that it was okay, but she felt it anyway. Oscar had been unplanned as well, and his father had only been a one night stand. He had been someone she had used to try and move on from Mac, who had just gotten married. The guy had only been passing through as a truck driver. It had been fun and exhilarating. Then she'd gotten pregnant. She didn't regret Oscar, not at all. He was the best thing that had happened to her. No, she was harder on herself for this unplanned pregnancy because it just so happened Mac's wife was also pregnant with his second child. It wasn't a secret, apparently, that she and Mac had been seeing each other. People would know.
That's what was causing the shame.
"Okay, Rose," Dr. Cope said. "You're definitely pregnant. I'm assuming you've started taking the pre-natal vitamins?"
"I've got them," Rose answered, nodding. There was no need to have the conversation around whether or not she was going to keep the baby. She was keeping the baby.
"Well, I'll set up an ultrasound appointment in a few weeks. We'll keep in touch, and in less than nine months, you'll have another baby," he finished with a smile. She smiled back. Maybe she was imagining the judgment from him. It was easy to do since she was heavily judging herself.
"Thank you, Dr. Cope," she said, standing up and pulling her purse around her shoulder. He gave a nod, and she walked out. She had no idea what she was going to say to her father or Oscar. And Norah. Her sister would give her that look, but she would also be there for her, just like she had been when Rose was having Oscar. She suddenly really missed her sister. She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone, calling Norah. It went to voicemail.
"Hi, it's me," Rose started. "Um, just wanted to say hi. Call me when you get this." She hung up and sighed. She felt so alone.
Toll
He was running hard, pushing himself that last mile. He could feel it getting to him, though. His breaths were coming out in bursts, and his legs were screaming at him. When he reached his street, he slowed down gradually until he was walking. Then he stopped outside his building and rested his hands on his knees, bending over and trying to catch his breath. Sweat was dripping off his face and down his back. He turned his head when the door opened and his twin sister, Victoria, was standing there.
"Geez, Nick," she said. "You look half dead."
"I feel half dead," Toll answered. She was the only one who called him by his birth name. Their parents had died a long time ago in a car accident. It had been the two of them against the world ever since. Then she'd gotten trapped in a world he struggled to pull her out of continually.
"I made breakfast," she said.
"Is that what I smell?" he asked, teasingly. She made a face at him and went to shut the door, making him reach to catch it before it locked. They went up the narrow stairs to his apartment together.
"Eat or don't. I don't care," she said, walking to the couch and flopping onto it. Her blue eyes flashed, and her short, brown hair was tucked behind her ears. There were some streaks of grey through it, though. She was very thin, too thin. Toll worried about her a lot, but she'd always laugh and say she was fine.
"Okay, Vic," he replied. He watched her carefully. She was on her phone, which made him on high alert.
"Relax, Nick," she said, not looking at him. "It's just Lucy."
"I didn't say anything..."
"You didn't have to," she said, turning to look at him now. Toll hated that he didn't trust her fully. She'd been clean for six months this time, and he lived in constant fear that she would go back to it, just like she had the last five times she had gotten clean.
"I'm gonna shower and then head out," he said. He could tell something was going on with her by the look on her face. Then he remembered. The second he did, she spoke.
"It's his birthday today," she told him. "He's 18." Toll met her eyes, and he knew what she was thinking. He didn't know what to say, though. It didn't feel like a good idea to him, but it was her decision.
"Are you gonna...?" he trailed off.
"I don't know yet."
He just nodded, and when she went back to her phone, he went to the shower. His mind went back to the day his sister had given birth to his nephew. She'd been so emotional. She had gotten clean during the pregnancy, but it had been difficult for her. She had decided not to raise her son and had let a family adopt him. It was a closed adoption, but once he turned 18, he was an adult. She could contact him, if she wanted. Toll didn't think it was a good idea, but it wasn't his place to judge. She had named him Bobby after their father, but Toll guessed the couple who had adopted him might have changed it.
"Nick?" Victoria called through the door.
"Yea?"
"I'm gonna meet Lucy for a coffee."
Toll felt a jump to his heart, but he swallowed hard.
"All right."
"See you later."
He had to trust her. He had to. He shut off the shower and dried off quickly, getting dressed in record time. He hurried to the door, cramming his shoes onto his feet. He waited thirty seconds before going out the door and down the stairs. He got out on the street in time to see her rounding the corner, and he followed. He wanted to trust her. He really did.
He just couldn't yet.
Gunner
He looked at himself in the mirror. Most of the time, he didn't like what he saw looking back at him. Today, though, his eyes were clear. He'd been successful in not drinking or using for a few days. He felt different. He ran his fingers through his hair and cleared his throat. He offered himself a smile. Then he immediately frowned. He never had liked himself. He'd been called Goliath growing up. Kids laughed whenever he banged his head off something. They openly mocked him. Teachers were no better. He'd hated all of it.
He'd gone on to get an education to spite them all, and he had succeeded. Yet, here he was. A killing machine. A mercenary. Expendable.
How had he gotten to this point?
Gunner sniffed hard and stepped away from his mirror. He could feel his mind shuffling thoughts around, looking for the ones that usually came when he was sober. They were the ones that made him drink or use. They needed him to forget, to numb out. Gunner did his best to think about something else. He wasn't ready to give in to those thoughts just yet. He grabbed his wallet and went outside. It was a good day to go visit the shooting range.
Norah
She put all her concentration into hitting the nail with her hammer. It was satisfying, pounding something into wood. Her arms were getting sore, though. Her head was sweating under the hard hat, and she kept moving her loose braids back. Lee had shown her what he wanted done and how to do it, and he'd left her alone for the most part. She'd done a lot of sweeping and tidying up before he let her use the hammer. She was also good at holding the other end of the measuring tape. She couldn't help herself and would take peeks at Lee as he worked. He definitely blew Randy out of the water in the looks department. He looked tough and rugged, but every so often she'd catch a softer expression on his face. She was also very curious about his tattoo, the raven sitting on a skull. The word "Expendable" was written underneath it. She wondered what it meant for him.
"Aiiee!" she yelped, not paying attention and whacking her thumb with the hammer. She waved her hand rapidly, hissing and sucking her teeth to try and prevent anymore cries of pain from escaping.
"Already?" Lee asked, a teasing note in his tone.
"Shut up," she retorted, cradling her sore thumb against her chest with her other hand. It was throbbing. He made his way over to her, gesturing for her to show him the wound. She held up her left hand, her thumb bent slightly.
"Yea, that'll bruise nicely," he said, looking at it. "You gonna live?"
"Yes," she replied, shooting him a look. She wasn't a suck. She'd get through it and carry on. They were in some person's backyard, constructing a fancy shed. It was a bit hot, and Norah was thirsty. She went to grab her water bottle and took some swigs before setting it down and going back to hammering. She was careful to avoid her thumb. She didn't mind physical labor. It kept her mind off of things. They didn't talk much, and Norah felt herself wanting to ask him questions. She couldn't help herself. Before she could, though, Toll showed up.
"Hey," he said, giving Norah a smile before looking at Lee.
"What are you doing here?" Lee asked without saying hello back.
"Just in the neighborhood," Toll answered with a shrug. "Need a hand?"
"Nah. I've got help."
"Cool," Toll said, smiling at Norah again. "How's it going?"
"Well, I've already tried to pound off my own thumb," she answered, "but other than that, it's going well. I think."
"He talk you into doing this work?" Toll asked.
"I needed a job," she replied with a shrug.
"Oh, well I know someone who is looking for a bartender. You know how to make drinks?"
"Sure do."
"It's casual."
"That's fine," Norah said. "It'll fill the time when Lee's not around at his other, secret job."
Toll shot Lee a look, which Norah found herself curious about. Lee met Toll's gaze and gave a slight shake of his head. What was that about?
"Right," Toll said. "Well, that's great. I'll give him a holler."
"Thanks," Norah said back, wondering what the big secret was here. Just what was his second job exactly? She was beginning to wonder if he was a secret agent or a hitman or something.
"I'm realizing I never got your name," Toll said, sounding embarrassed.
"Oh, it's Norah."
"Norah," Toll repeated. "I like it."
"It was my grandmother's," Norah offered, not knowing why she said that.
"Well, it's lovely," Toll said with a smile, making her blush. Then he turned to Lee. "Do you need a hand, or are you good?"
"I'm good. Thanks," Lee replied.
"Sure. See you around," Toll said, giving a wave. Norah smiled back. She went back to work, thinking about how Toll had the same tattoo as Lee and wondering just what it all meant.
Joe
He was home alone when knocking occurred on the front door. Rose was out with Oscar getting ice cream. They were having some mother and son bonding time. He went and opened the door, seeing a man standing there looking almost sheepish. Joe blinked. Why did this guy seem familiar? Where had he seen him before?
"Oh, hi," he said. "Um, is Rose here?"
"No," Joe answered. "Who are you?"
"Oh, just an old friend," he answered, waving his hand dismissively. "I'll call her later." He moved to back away.
"Now, wait a minute," Joe said, extending his hand and pointing a finger towards the man. "I know you. Erm, Pat...no, Hap. No...Zack...?" It was a name with an "ack" sound at the end of it. He was sure of it. He frowned, thinking hard.
"Thank you. Have a good evening," the man said, hurrying away faster now. Joe stared after him. Very odd. Very odd indeed.
Lee
He groaned as he got into the shower and the hot water hit him. He wasn't sure why he felt so stiff today. It was an ordinary work day after all, and it wasn't like he didn't use his muscles. He was enjoying the water pounding on him when it suddenly turned ice cold. He hit the back wall of the shower with such speed and force that the shower door popped open.
"Shit!" he yelped, catching himself before he fell and broke his neck. He reached to turn it off, stepped out of the shower, and grabbed his towel, yanking it around his waist as he marched to the stairs. When he got down to the basement, he could hear Norah in her shower humming away to herself.
"Hey!" he called, banging on the bathroom door loudly.
"Yea?!" she called back. A moment later, her wet head came around the door, and she looked surprised to see him. "What's up?"
"We," Lee said, gesturing with his hand back and forth between them, "cannot have a shower at the same time."
"Obviously," she said, wrinkling her nose slightly in amusement. "I didn't think our relationship status had advanced that far yet."
"No, no, no," he said, waving his hand now. "I mean we can't both have a shower in our separate showers at the same time. It messes up the water temperature. Old style plumbing."
"Ohhhhh," she said, understanding. "That's why it took a while to sort itself out." She looked at him in his towel, a slight smirk on her lips. "Did I get ya?"
"Just hurry up," he ordered, moving to walk away. She laughed as she closed the door and continued her shower. He went up the stairs carefully, avoiding his wet foot prints on the wood so as not to slip and fall. He wondered what she meant, exactly, by saying their relationship hadn't advanced that far "yet"? What did that mean? Did she think it would? He worked his jaw as he headed back for his bathroom. The smirk on her face, her laughter...it had irked him slightly. He looked over at his toilet, a smile forming on his own lips now. Payback was a bitch. He reached with his foot and flushed it.
Her shriek echoed all throughout the house.
Barney
He was sitting backwards on the chair as Tool worked on his back. He only did a little bit at a time, much to Tool's chagrin. He knew his friend wanted to finish it now. Toll walked in looking a bit distressed. He paced a little before stopping to look at Barney, who was watching him.
"Victoria?" he asked, knowing that was what usually got Toll stressed out like that.
"Yea," Toll answered.
"What happened?"
"Nothing. That's the problem."
"Why is that a problem?" Tool asked, unable to help himself.
"Because. It's just another day sober that could lead to her relapsing," Toll explained.
"That makes no sense to me," Barney said, chuckling. He turned his head slightly. "Tool?"
"Nope. No sense at all," Tool agreed.
"I guess I just keep waiting for her to relapse, and I feel like it's gonna happen any day. I almost wish it would just happen so I could stop being on edge waiting for it to happen," Toll said with a heavy sigh.
"Then you can get the pain, anger, and disappointment over with and out of the way, right?" Barney asked.
"Right," Toll answered.
"What if she stays clean this time?" Tool asked, not looking up from what he was doing.
"I want that more than anything," Toll replied, "but..."
"You don't think she can do it," Barney finished for him.
"That's so shitty, isn't it? I can't even think that my own sister can stay sober," Toll said, running a hand over his head hard. "What kind of brother am I?"
"A realistic one," Barney answered. "Chance of relapse is realistic thinking. Thinking she's gonna be good forever isn't. We all get tempted. We all fall off the damn wagon. We all hurt. We all feel that pull to do something we know isn't good for us. It's how well we can fend off those urges that's important. She needs your support and needs to know that you believe in her. That will help her stay sober."
"Because if I believe in her, it'll help her to believe in herself," Toll finished. "I know."
"Yes, but also because if she does relapse, she knows she can come to you for help. She knows you haven't written her off and can get your support when she tries again."
"How many times do I do this, though?" Toll asked, sounding a bit angry now. "This is her sixth try at being sober. What if she keeps going in this cycle? How long do I keep doing this?"
"As long as you need to," Barney answered. "But there's nothing wrong with setting boundaries. You can be there and help but from a distance. It's her fight, but you're her coach, not her opponent. You're also not taking on her fight. You can't do this for her. All you can do is offer what you can, stand alongside her, and there's nothing wrong with getting extra help so you're not bearing the brunt of it alone."
"Like therapy," Toll said.
"Yea."
"I never thought about talking to someone," he mused.
"If you have support, you can be a better support."
"You sound like you've done this or something," Toll said, giving Barney a look of scrutiny. The older man chuckled.
"Give Dr. Nina Sanchez a call," Barney said. "Tell her I said hi."
"All right," Toll said with a nod. "I just might do that."
"That's enough," Barney said to Tool, who harrumphed in annoyance.
"I can finish it..."
"Later," Barney interrupted. Tool threw up his hands and shook his head as he walked away, making Toll chuckle.
"Why don't you just finish it already?" he asked as Barney stood up and put his shirt back on.
"It's okay to leave things as a work in progress for a while," Barney replied. "Why rush to the finish line? Then it's over."
"You're just full of wisdom today," Toll noted.
"I can be." Barney patted Toll on the shoulder before passing him and going to his office.
Rose & Oscar
She watched her son lick his ice cream cone carefully. It was dripping over his hand, which she had napkins for when he was ready. She hadn't eaten any herself, feeling nauseous and all. Oscar hadn't said anything about it.
"Are you liking your new school?" she asked. She'd gotten enough money from her father to enroll him into the school she'd deemed better for him. They'd had a long conversation about not licking things at school before his first day, though.
"It's okay," Oscar answered.
"How's Lisa?"
"She's great," Oscar said with a big smile. Lisa had been the girl on the swings he'd seen through his binoculars, the ones his grandfather had given him for his birthday. They'd become instant friends.
"I'm happy for you," Rose said with a smile, reaching to ruffle his hair fondly. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him about the baby, but she chickened out. She wasn't ready. She didn't even know how he'd take the news.
"Have you talked to Aunt Norah today?" he asked her.
"No. I left her a message." Typical Norah hadn't called her back. Rose felt annoyed by that.
"I miss her," he lamented.
"I know. I miss her too."
"Are we gonna hang out with Winston soon?" he asked, changing the subject. Rose smiled. Winston had become something of a friend to them, and Rose had a feeling there was more to it than that. She liked Winston. He saw her for who she was and liked her for that. She didn't have to pretend to be something she wasn't. Winston was genuine.
"Yea," Rose replied. "You wanna invite him to dinner?"
"Sure!"
She laughed at his eagerness. He really could use some other male influences in his life other than his eccentric grandfather. She rested her arms on the table and smiled at him as he proceeded to get ice cream all over his face. She loved him so much. She hoped he would be excited about being a brother.
She hoped for a lot of things.
Norah
She was eating her pizza while keeping an eye on Lee. He was occupying himself with fixing the strings on a guitar. It had surprised her to know he could even play an instrument.
"You gonna go all Willie Nelson on me when that's fixed?" she asked him.
"No," he snorted.
"You don't sing?"
"Nope."
"Just play," she noted.
"Yup."
"What got you into playing guitar?" she asked. It was a simple question, but he visibly stiffened and paused what he was doing for a moment. She wondered if she had somehow upset him when he finally answered.
"My brother," he answered. Norah raised a brow.
"There's two of you?" she asked. Lee's jaw was definitely tight now, and it made Norah realize she wasn't going to like his answer, if he gave her one.
"Not anymore," he said, his voice sounding off. She didn't press it. She knew all about feelings of grief. She knew it could sneak up on you when you least expected it. She thought about the box of her mother's things in the basement. It helped her to feel closer to her sometimes.
"If you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen," she said softly, making him look at her finally.
"I'm good, thanks," he said back. Then he went back to work on the guitar. Norah finished eating and put her leftovers in the fridge. She whipped off the little bit of dishes that were in the sink and roughhoused with Rupert for a bit before saying goodnight to Lee and going down to her quarters.
About half an hour later, she heard a guitar playing, and it almost put her in a trance. It was beautiful. It made her want to sing. She crept up the stairs quietly, intending to just sit and listen without making him self-conscious. She didn't know what song he was playing, but he surprised her by quietly humming. After listening for a moment, she realized he was playing "My Old Friend" by Tim McGraw. She wondered if there was a reason he was playing this song.
He stopped playing suddenly, and she froze. She thought maybe he had somehow heard her, but all he did was make the sounds of someone putting an instrument away. He cleared his throat a few times, and then his footsteps grew farther away. She rested her head against the wall, thinking hard. Had Lee lost someone the way she had? His brother, perhaps? Or maybe he'd died in an accident. She wanted to know, but she refrained from going to ask him. If he wanted to tell her, he would. She got up carefully and went back down the stairs.
Maybe there was more to Mr. Lee than what met the eye after all. She very much wanted to find out.