Gaby, Patrick, Scott, Jimmy Duran, and any others you don't recognize are mine.
Violet is... ?
Rated PG-13 : Harsh language; violence; sexual content.
Reviews are appreciated, please take a moment to leave one.
"Wes, I think you need to get down here."
The phone had rung almost as soon as he had gotten out of bed on this Saturday morning. It was Jimmy Duran, his voice urgent enough to overcome Wes's annoyance at being interrupted so early, and at home. He frowned and asked, "What's the problem?"
"We have a guest. Patrol car picked her up on Highway 9, just outside town. She's asking for you."
Highway 9. The road that ran past the Ryder farm… "Violet?"
"That's right."
"I'll be right there."
"I wish you didn't have to go to work," Gaby said as Eric pulled over in front of his house, automatically noting that the two Silver Guardian bodyguards he had insisted on for her had arrived and were sitting in an SUV a few yards away.
"With Steve in the hospital, someone's got to cover at Bio-Lab. Even on the weekend."
"How about Wes?"
"He's going to visit Steve, maybe try talking to Violet again." Eric hesitated, hands still gripping the wheel. "We had a talk last night, before you got there."
"Really? You didn't say anything."
"Yeah, I know. Just didn't feel up to talking about it." He hadn't felt like a discussion, not after an exhausting day. That conversation with Wes had been difficult; it was always hard for him to open up, to expose anything underneath the tough exterior a lifetime of self-protection had built around him. He had needed time to think about it, to figure out how he felt. "Besides, you were pretty quiet yourself," he added.
"Yeah. I was tired." She looked down at her hands, then up at him again. "So what happened? What did you say?"
"I said what I thought. So did he."
"Did you two kiss and make up already?"
He chuckled. "It's a start."
She was smiling, looking amused. "Is that all you're going to tell me?"
"Yeah, for now. Gotta get going."
"You're such a tease... Well, I'm proud of you."
"For what?"
"For getting past that macho shell you put around yourself."
He scowled at her, but a smile was trying to break through. "Hmmh. I'll have to think about whether that was an insult. See ya later." He leaned over to kiss her before she slid out of the car, watched as she waved to the two Guardians and walked to his front door. Truthfully, he would have liked to stay, especially since she was working on finishing up the painting. Didn't seem fair, the amount of time and effort she was putting in, for his benefit, but she insisted. Of course, if she moved in, it would be for her benefit, too…
He sighed, as he put the car in gear and pulled out. His place was at Bio-Lab today, he should be thinking about who had attacked Steve, not worrying about his personal life.
Wes hurried into the squad room and stopped short at the sight of her. Violet, sitting next to Jimmy's desk, smiling and standing up as she saw him. She looked nervous but resolute. Seeing her here, where Jen had worked, it sent an odd feeling through him, perhaps of déjà vu. If not for her short hair, he could believe he had gone a few months back in time, that it was truly Jen sitting there.
"Violet, what happened? What are you doing here?" he asked.
"I had to talk to you. There's only one phone in the farmhouse, and it's in Scott's room. So I walked down the highway, but I couldn't find a phone…"
"She waved down a patrol car," Jimmy cut in.
"They thought I was Jen."
"Yeah, they kinda freaked," Jimmy said. "Can't blame them." He paused, smiling, but with an edge of sadness, his eyes sharp on her face. "I was Jen's partner. Worked with her every day, right here."
"I'm sorry if I bring back memories." She gave him a half smile and turned back to Wes. "How's Steve Miller?"
"He's hanging in there. Got a pretty good chance of recovering, the doctor said."
"Good." Relief washed over her face, followed by an expression of determination that pierced Wes's heart, it was so much like Jen. "I have to tell you some things."
"Okay." He pulled up a chair and sat, leaning forward, Jimmy behind the desk watching silently, the rest of the room seeming to fade out of his awareness. As Violet began to speak, he gradually realized what had been drifting around his consciousness; she was different, suddenly, the childishness gone, as if she had grown up overnight. It shook him so deeply that he almost missed what she was saying.
"Scott and Patrick went out night before last. They wouldn't tell me where they were going. They didn't come back until morning, and wouldn't tell me where they'd been. Then when you told me Mr. Miller had been attacked..." She looked into Wes's face. "I don't think they did it themselves. Scott told me he and Patrick didn't hurt anyone. But he didn't deny they were involved somehow."
"But he didn't say they were?"
"No. I know it's kind of vague." She looked apologetic. "But... there's something in that house. Something wrong. I can feel it."
"Something? What?"
"I don't know. But they're hiding something. I can see it in their faces, sometimes they're worried, afraid." She hesitated, leaning forward, her eyes meeting his. "There's a secret place. Downstairs, a door in the basement. It's always locked, I've never been in there."
Wes frowned. "Do you have any idea what could be in there? Any idea at all?"
"They spend a lot of time there. I don't know. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. You've been a big help."
"What do you think, Wes?" Jimmy asked.
"I don't know. Doesn't sound like we have anything to base a search warrant on."
"Afraid not. We can watch them. Dig into their past more."
"Daryl Gunn at Bio-Lab's been doing that. So far, nothing. Except that he can't find anyone to talk to who actually knew them. I think that's suspicious."
Jimmy looked thoughtful. "You know, we still have Patrick's fingerprints, from when we proved he's not Norman. We should run them through the system, see if anything pops up. Maybe Scott would give us his, too, they keep talking about being cooperative..." He trailed off, both he and Violet staring at Wes in alarm.
He realized his mouth had dropped open and closed it. His eyes were still wide, his heart leaping and settling back with a jolt. "Holy shit," he said softly. "Why didn't I think of it before...?"
Painting was such a soothing job. The repetition of the movements, the smell of the paint, the way the wall looked as it was covered with smooth color. So relaxing... Gaby let her mind drift. And of course it promptly drifted to last night, to Patrick. Something about that encounter was bothering her, but she couldn't quite pin it down.
Something besides the fact that she hadn't told Eric. Should have... Probably should tell him now... Suddenly it struck home to her how strange that conversation had been. That bizarre thing he had said about someone leaving Steve in Eric's office so he would get help quickly... Why say something like that, if he wasn't talking about himself? Maybe she had been too tired, or too scared, to see it at the time, but hadn't he practically said he was involved in the attack on Steve? Not that he'd done it, but that he was there.
The look on his face, calm and determined, but there was something else there too, something almost desperate... His voice... He had seemed grateful to her for talking to him. As if he needed to tell her something, but couldn't. As if he felt trapped, and didn't know what to do. Or guilty, and had no way to make it good...
And the way he had grabbed her arm, so urgent, his hand so strong, fingers cold and unyielding... She frowned, staring unseeingly at the blank wall, the sheen of wet paint glimmering across it, like the gleam of metal. The memory came back of Norman, when he had brought her to the lab he had set up in an old factory, Eric had fought him and been knocked out, she had tried to help, but the cyclobots had grabbed her and dragged her away, their cold, hard hands around her arms... The image of Silver and Purple arose before her, the one time she had seen them, outside this house, their faces metal copies of Norman's, their voices...
"Oh, my God..." she said slowly. Fingers trembling, she wiped paint from her hands before running to find her phone.
"It was there all along. The way to prove if Violet is a clone. Or not." Wes stared at her.
She was staring back, her eyes just as wide as his. "How?" she asked simply.
"Fingerprints. Identical twins have different prints, because a lot of the characteristics are random, develop randomly before birth. If you're a clone, you were -- were grown from one of Jen's cells. You'd have different prints."
"That's right," Jimmy said. He turned to look at Violet. "We have Jen's prints on file."
"Will you do it?" Wes asked. "Will you let us take your fingerprints? It would mean finding out for sure who you really are."
"I..." She looked frightened, and uncertain. But then her face firmed, her lips thinned, a look of resolution and determination came over her. The look that was Jen.
"I'll do it," she said.
"Eric, listen..." The voice in his phone was urgent.
But he was too angry. "You're telling me you came to the hospital without protection, dammit? And let that -- that guy Patrick talk to you? Shit! Didn't I tell you..."
"God damn it! Just shut up and listen to me for once!"
Eric stopped in mid-curse, astonished. He couldn't ever remember Gaby shouting before. Impressed, he lowered his voice. "Okay, okay. What?"
"Patrick said he had nothing to do with Steve getting hurt, but he said something weird. I told him about you finding Steve on your desk like that, and how terrible it was, and he said maybe whoever did it just wanted him to be found right away. So he'd get help fast."
"Huh. Strange, but not exactly a confession."
"You weren't there. You didn't see his face, or hear his voice. He had something to do with it, I'm sure. But he didn't do it himself."
"Maybe Scott..."
"I don't think so. I think someone else is involved."
"Dammit, why didn't you tell me right away?"
"I guess it just didn't get through to me until now. And that's not all."
"All right. Go on."
She hesitated for the first time. "This is going to sound really strange. When Patrick grabbed my arm-"
"He grabbed you?"
"Yeah, when he-"
"I'll kill the bastard!"
"Eric!"
At the warning note in her voice he meekly said, "Go on."
"When he grabbed me, his hand was cold. And hard. Like metal. Just like those cyclobots that grabbed me, when Norman kidnapped me."
"Like the cyclobots? I don't... Shit..."
But he did understand, the realization hit him like a bolt as Gaby kept talking, as suddenly everything fell into place.
"Eric -- it's been under our noses all along. Norman's 'brothers'. Looking identical to him. Scott and Patrick. Silver and Purple."
Of course. It fit. It fit perfectly. Silver and Purple, the two robots Norman had created in his own image, looking exactly like him, talking exactly like him, even programmed to think like him. His twins. All they needed was human-looking skin. And it looked like they had it now. And if it was true, that meant...
"They lied about who they are... About being destroyed by that transporter. Probably lied about everything. Jen. And Norman..."
"Probably." The grim tone of her voice told him she had already thought of that possibility, and what it meant.
It took a moment for his mind to start working again. After a few seconds of thought, he went on. "I want you to get in here, to Bio-Lab. You'll be safe here."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm not sure... We have no proof. Want to talk to Gunn again, see if he's found out anything more. I'll have to call him at home. Then -- I don't know. Have to talk to Wes, too. Just get in here as fast as you can, okay?"
"Okay. If you think that's best."
"I do. See you soon."
"You okay?" Wes asked gently.
"I think so." Violet didn't look at him, her eyes fixed on the sheet of paper that now held her fingerprints, as she absently wiped ink from her hands.
"We'll know in a few minutes."
She looked nervous. As nervous as Wes felt. The butterflies in the pit of his stomach fluttered even harder as the full realization sank in. This would be proof, one way or the other. If she turned out not to be Jen... He found he didn't want to face that possibility. Better not to know... But that wasn't true, not really. Face facts, deal with it. Whatever the facts were.
"Wes..." Violet's voice was soft.
"Yes?"
"I'm not sure what I'm more afraid of. Finding out I'm Jen, or that I'm not."
"Why?"
"If I'm not Jen... well..." She glanced at him. "I just kind of wish I was. And then I'd still be -- a clone -- a freak."
"Don't say that. No matter what, you're not a freak. A clone is just as much a normal human as anyone else."
She smiled briefly. "And if I am Jen... that means I'm not who I thought I was. Who Scott and Patrick told me I am. It means everything changes. They lied to me... what else have they lied about?"
"I don't know." He was watching the fingerprint expert. What was taking so long? But then he realized it was over. Jimmy and the expert exchanged a few words, then Jimmy was standing up, looking at them, picking up the fingerprint sheet, starting across the room.
Violet stood up to meet her fate, Wes at her side.
Her guards were waiting for her, outside. Eric must have called them, Gaby realized, while she was washing paint off her hands and changing clothes. One of them, a tall dark-haired man, stood at the door of their SUV and waved, while his partner, a smaller blond man, sat at the wheel.
"Commander Myers wants you to ride in with us!" he called.
Silly, really. No reason to think she was in more danger now than for the last two months. Still, something prickled at the back of her neck as she hurried toward the black vehicle. And then she knew why, when she saw him.
It was Patrick. Maybe. Or Scott. Not Norman, he looked perfectly normal, no silver hair or eyes. She saw him slide out of a car parked on the corner, and walk quickly to intercept her. She quickened her pace, and reached the SUV first.
"Gaby!" he called. "I want to talk to you."
"Just stay back, sir," the dark Guardian said. "The lady doesn't want to talk to you."
"I think the lady can speak for herself." He smiled. "How about it, Gaby? Can you spare me a moment?"
"Look -- Patrick?" He nodded. "I really have to go..."
"Oh, but we have so much to talk about. Can't you wait, just for a minute?"
"No, I have to go." She put her hand on the car door.
"It's very important." He was smiling, but not like last night. Another warning shiver ran up her spine at the expression on his face.
"Sorry." She turned to get in.
And it happened, so fast, a blur of motion and the dark Guardian was collapsing before she could look back in his direction. She had a quick glimpse of him thudding to the ground, blood spraying from his head, of Patrick raising a weapon, a blaster; there was a dazzling burst, so close she felt a tingling shock run through her. A cry made her turn, to see the blond Guardian in the car slump, apparently unconscious. And then it was just the two of them.
"Don't be afraid, Gaby," he said, softly, stepping forward and grabbing her arm. "I'm going to make sure you're happy. With me."
"Nooo!" She screamed as he dragged her rapidly to his car, screamed again as he twisted her arms behind her back and snapped metal cuffs on her wrists. And again as he shoved her inside.
But there was no help in sight. He got in next to her and drove off. She shrank back, as far away as possible. Her arms still felt the harsh imprint of his hands, his hands which had been warm, undeniably human.
He only grinned at her as she gasped, "Norman!"
TBC...