Lol. John's blind. (Begins poking Doggett and running away giggling before he can grab her) Anyways! Hope you enjoyed that little bit of DRR, there will be more. Hee heee heee…(continues poking Doggett)
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"There's gotta be more to life. Then chasing down every temporary high to satisfy me. Cause the more that I'm tripping up thinking there must be more to life. Well there's life, but I'm sure there's gotta be more."
~Stacie Oricco, More to Life (There's Gotta Be)
Chapter 5: A Nice Serving of Chaos With Destruction for Dessert
John opened his eyes and blinked, trying to see. Where the hell was he? He couldn't see, but the memories of yesterday were back, telling him that his lack of sight was somehow natural. Still, the darkness chilled him, scaring him like a child.
Consciousness came, bringing the feeling of warmth and something on his chest like a dead weight, constricting his breathing. The bruise from yesterday had swollen, becoming more blue and even black in the centre like some explosion on his skin. His fingers told him not to move, as he could feel the body of Monica Reyes on him.
Closing his unseeing eyes again, he sighed deeply, trying to breathe easier. Monica seemed to stir for a moment, before rolling back over.
"Hey." She said. John took a deep breath and released it slowly.
"Morning." He replied. "I'm assuming."
"You still can't see?" She asked bluntly, waving a hand over his face. John shook his head, completely uncreative to her almost poking him. Monica sighed.
"So, what's happening today?" She asked, getting up and hugging a sheet to her chest. John groaned, sitting up as well.
"I think this case is closed. I mean, besides this." She knew he was emphasizing his eyes. Monica nodded and shifted closer, laying on his shoulder. "I think we should pay them just one more visit."
"You're serious?" She asked, getting a nod. Monica sighed again, nodding with him.
"I'm driving." She joked, and John kissed her.
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"Phoebe!" Joe pounded on her door. She hadn't come out of that room all night. Her parents were doing everything but getting a court order to get her back. Joe had assured them he would have her back on the property after breakfast, but Phoebe wasn't being so cooperative. The girl hadn't left her bedroom since last night, mumbling something that was both incoherent and too quiet to hear. "Phoebe come on and get some food! You must be starving!"
"Not hungry, thanks Joe!" She replied, falling silent once again. Joe sighed deeply, walking back into the kitchen where Brian was sitting at the table with a slice of cold pizza going into his mouth.
"What's up with her?" Joe asked. Brian shrugged and bit off half the pizza slice, swallowing it in two bites before shouting.
"Phoebe! Get out here and eat something!"
"I'm not hungry. Thanks Brian!"
"Okay, there's something wrong with that girl." Joe added, eating a piece of pizza himself.
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"This the place?" Monica asked, forgetting that John couldn't exactly identify where they were going. He tried to blink a few times and then replied.
"It's kind of hard to tell. Want to just wait here until my sight comes back?" Monica laughed a little.
"Well don't we have a sense of humour this morning." She said, getting a nod from her partner. Monica sighed deeply. "What are we doing here John?"
"Solving a murder case." He responded innocently. Monica shook her head.
"This doesn't look like solving a murder case John."
"You know, you're sounding an awful lot like Scully." He got back at her. Monica shook her head again.
"Fine. But I'm just telling you that Kersh was calling my cell phone non-stop yesterday. He's fully prepared to fire us."
"This is supposed to surprise me?" Monica laughed.
"Another one. My, John, you're on a roll. Perhaps you should become blind more often."
"This will go down in history as the only day John Doggett lost his sight. I assure you." Monica grinned and got out of the car.
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Phoebe had been sitting with the blonde haired boy for the past 5 hours. She didn't know how she went without sleep. She just didn't need it. Her body betrayed her, feeling like she could just pass out at any time now. Still, the boy was curled up on her floor, colouring with a set of crayons she had kept under her floor and paper stolen off the printer.
"What's that?" She asked him about the picture.
"It's him." The boy replied quietly. He was clutching her bracelet in one hand, his fist clenched tightly so the knuckles were white. The other was making a blob of black on the paper. Phoebe had collected an assortment of pictures. Several of his father, his mother, who was blonde, and a dog who died when he was three. Phoebe liked children. They weren't angry so much of the time.
"He doesn't like Daddy." He replied quietly, stopping and placing his chin on his bent knee. Phoebe watched him with her vivid blue eyes, clutching her heart. "He says Daddy's mean."
"Why would he say something like that?" She asked with a smile.
"He says…he says…he says I can't talk to you."
"Why not?" She asked him, moving a little closer. Luke set down the crayon and handed her the bracelet.
"He wants this." Phoebe took the Mayoke bracelet back, holding it in the palm of her hand.
"Luke you don't have to be scared." She assured him. But Luke got to his feet and looked fearfully behind her. "What is it?"
The look of fear passed. Phoebe turned her head, but there was nothing there.
"Luke?" She asked again, but he ran through the wall and out the door.
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"Phoebe?" Joe knocked on the door again, knowing there was no point. Phoebe was just going to give him another sugar sweet answer like she'd been doing all morning. "Phoebe? Agents Doggett and Reyes are here to see you?"
"Not in the mood. Thanks Joe!" She said, grabbing her coat off the desk chair and opening her window. "I'll be back in while. Tell them it was a pleasure to have met them."
"Phoebe?" John asked. Phoebe stopped halfway out her window. "I have to know why I can't see." The young girl sighed, fighting her conscience, but lost and moved to the door, opening it.
"You can't see because it covering your eyes. You have to get rid of it."
"How?" He demanded blindly, looking slightly over Phoebe's shoulder. She opened her door fully and ducked under Doggett, who stood blindly for a moment before realizing he couldn't hear her breathing in front of him anymore. Damn this! He thought, tapping his head a little. Phoebe grabbed the phone book off the coffee table, fidgeting with a bottle of her favourite medication as she did so. The cap came off but there was only one pill inside. Groaning, she dialled the number and listened to it ring. And ring. And ring.
"Alright." She announced, setting the phone down. "You're screwed. My good friend the Priest is gone."
"Priest?" Monica asked, unsure if he really wanted the answer to that question.
"Well you can't expect me to do an exorcism." John's eyes widened.
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"Trust me. If there's one person who knows where to find Father Alex it's Phoebe." Brian assured the two Agents who were waiting in their kitchen. He reading the movies that week. Well, not really reading. Brian's definition of reading was simply stare at a piece of paper long enough and maybe the information will sink in. Something that didn't help him prepare for tests.
"Who is this Father Alex?" Monica had to pry. "Friend of yours?"
"He was the one who cleansed the house before we moved in. Phoebe's been pestering him for a while now to come back, but he's been a prick about it…as usual. Damn guy is the only Carolingian in the district."
"Carolingian?" John asked.
"Priest of the old order, trained in exorcisms and various other old order techniques. He's the best, well, second best if you count his mentor Father Geoffrey, and third if you could Father Dominic in Rome."
"And he can fix this?" Monica asked. Brian nodded. "Without hurting John?" Another nod. She sighed in relief.
"Death from exorcisms is painless and unlikely."
John suddenly looked very afraid.
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Father Alex Cross was looming at the Alter, looking upward at the crucifix of his Lord. He didn't expect many people in today. Confession was being attended to by his Deacon, and he wasn't counting on there being any problems. He stood up, shocked a little by a female voice that came from behind.
"Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been a lifetime since my last confession." He turned and face the half-amused Phoebe Nameth. "Hello Alex."
"Phoebe, I am not selling exorcisms today." He walked away, as Phoebe sighed and followed in protest. Alex groaned and turned. "Look, I am not going to be made a mockery of by an atheist who can see the dead. Can you please leave?"
"I didn't think a Priest could do that." She retorted, getting another amplified groan from Alex, who started walking again. She took off, tight on his heels. "Look I need your help. This friend, he's blind…"
"So take him to a optometrist."
"You didn't listen. He's blind due to a Demon."
"Once again, I am not here to be made a mockery of."
"Would you just…STOP!?" Phoebe asked loudly, her voice resonating into the church. Alex turned to face her. "Look, I need your help. So before you pull the whole holier then thou please listen?" He looked like he was thinking about it, an improvement for Phoebe who was usually shunned by the Man of God. Finally he sighed.
"I know I'm going to regret this." Phoebe gave a soft smile.
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"There's nothing wrong with his eyes." Alex commented and walked to the door. Phoebe was on her feet in an instant, while John considered this to be an even worse idea then before.
"And I think this is stupid." Phoebe shot him a dirty glance. "You know for someone without religion you certainly believe in a lot of crap."
"Says the man who can't see." She retorted sarcastically and went after Alex. John sighed again and got to his feet, searching blindly for Monica who slid her hand in his.
"Look Phoebe, thank you but there is no way I getting someone to whisper mumbo-jumbo to cure me."
Brian and Joe left, murmuring something about 'having to do something'. Phoebe watched the door slam and Alex nearly get his coat tail stuck in the slammed surface. With a pound on the wall she regained composure.
"Alright, fine. Leave." She replied angrily, going back to her room and slamming the door. John looked at Monica.
"You certainly have a way with people, John."
"Says the woman who can see." He imitated Phoebe with a mild arrogance, something that made a plate crash to the floor and shatter in the kitchen, as if on cue. John looked in the direction of the smash, as Monica started to lead him to the door.
"Come on." She coaxed, the air of a mother with a child in her voice. John followed obediently.
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Phoebe slumped on her bed, breathing deeply. The bruise on her chest was throbbing and an unnatural and unhealthy amount of pressure was pushing on her heart. She felt so helpless like that, and pathetic. It felt childish to storm off because things didn't go her way. She finally gave up on her naïve self-pity party and stood up, marching into the kitchen. She proceeded to make herself four waffles with ice cream and strawberries before plopping in front of Due South for 3 hours straight.
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John hated not driving. He used to think he loved driving. And then he read in one of those sports magazines that driving was just another male testosterone rush. Or was that one of Monica's SELF magazines he had glanced at 'for amusement' while in her house one day? He didn't know. And trying to think about how it looked only reminded him once again that he wasn't able to see.
"Let's go home John." Monica said quietly as she started to drive. John sighed and breathed deep, and nodded with a imitation smile.
John was ignorant to the imaginary tug on his sleeve. And the boy in the back seat was crouched on the floor, huddling from the black form growing behind his father.
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I promise John gets his sight back. I promise, no harm will come to our uber-funny John Doggett. Lol. R&R!