A/N: Cha, like... what is up with Michaels? Hmmm.... (all Britney Murphy like) "I'll never tell..." Hehehe... at least not yet... Oh, and for all you Joan/Adam shippers out there, please please please be patient with me? I need Dane in there. Without Dane, there would be no true purpose for me to write this... and I've probably given something away, huh? Oh darn. So please be patient. You'll probably either want to kill me or feel like I'm killing you... either way, someone will get killed... oh darn, did I also give something else away? I've got to learn to shut up and keep my author's notes strictly short and to the point. Anyway, thank you all for the reviews! And, well, on with the show!
JoA-/-JoA-/-JoA-/-JoA-/-JoA-/-JoA
CHAPTER THREE
Maryland -- Arcadia -- Home of Will Girardi
April 14, 2006 -- Friday
Something was wrong. It didn't take a science whiz like Luke, a college student like Kevin, a woman with mother's intuition like Helen, or even someone that -- unknown to everyone else -- talks to God like Joan to realize that there was something troubling their beloved Will Girardi. Just one thoughtful regard was all it took for them to sense that Will was carrying this weight, this burden, and in total agony to relieve himself from it.
It also didn't take much for them to figure out that whatever was bothering Will, it also had to do with the three guests he invited over. Especially with the way they were now standing. Gone was the relaxing, out of uniform demeanor. In its place was the same no-nonsense attitude they themselves had grown accustomed to witnessing from Will's end. However, they -- most particularly David and Joan -- noticed that Michaels, despite also coming off like a professional, still held on to some type of ease. Needless to say that this bothered David to no end.
Will had politely asked his family to gather around the living room area. Without question nor hesitation, they complied. For there was something in his eyes and a quiet urgency in his tone that told them that he obviously had something serious to announce. Thus his family picking up on his troubled vibe and fearfully wondering; What's wrong?
Soon enough, Will had his family present and accounted for in the living room. Joan and Luke occupied the couch, while Kevin wheeled himself on one end of it, nearest to his younger brother. Michaels placed himself right by Joan's side of the couch, while David and Rita stood nearest to Kevin, right by the fireplace. Will stood, as such, upfront and facing his children, while Helen started to place herself by her husband's side.
Will turned to Helen, giving her a small pleading smile, "Sweet heart, maybe it would be best if you take a seat."
Helen regarded her husband for a brief second before shaking her head. "No." Knowing Will was about to protest, she cut him off by sternly adding, "No, Will. I prefer to be standing. Right next to you because... well, I don't know why, I can't explain it but I have this feeling that whatever it is you have to say to us, we'll both need each other for support. So I'm standing."
Will looked upon his wife with quiet awe and brilliant love. Which caused his breath to be caught in his throat upon knowing that what he's about to do could shatter her. He reached for her hand, giving a soft nod, before turning his gaze onto his beautiful children.
As he looked upon each of them, his heart began to slowly break. He knew each of them was growing up into their own, becoming fine kind hearted individuals... yet no matter how old they've gotten, or how far away their future paths will stray from his own life, Kevin, Joan, and Luke will forever be seen in his eyes as babies that he once held so simply, so long ago in his arms.
He squeezed Helen's hand, warning himself not to let his strength crumble. "I... I-I don't know how to go about this. To go about explaining what needs to be explained..."
Joan stared at her father, especially taking note as his voice -- ever so confidant and sure -- started to become soft and hesitant. "Dad? What is it? What's wrong?"
Will's eyes locked onto his daughter, his little girl. He blinked for suddenly the young woman that was now staring up at him, for the briefest moment, morph into a little girl with two braided ponytails. The little child Joan regarded her father with concern that was laced with a hint of fear.
"Daddy?"
"Will?" Helen's voice broke Will's trance, causing him to blink and shake his head. He faced his wife, noting how she too was giving him the same look, then turned towards the officers. He gave each of them a helpless look, for he was truly at a lost of words.
David and Rita glanced at each other, both momentarily unsure of what to do. They gazed over at Michaels, who had silently kept himself back and his own gaze was focused on Joan.
A heavy, and a bit uncomfortable, silence started to fall upon the group until it was Michaels himself that broke the quiet. He gave an understanding nod to Will, who returned with an appreciative one.
"Well," Michaels began, his eyes observing the entire family, though every now and again landing on Joan. "There's no real easy, nor better, way to start... except with the truth. With being honest because, especially the situation... well, the situation that, I'm sorry to say that this family is unfortunately being faced with..."
"What situation?" Luke asked, tossing an equally confused look at Michaels as well as towards his siblings.
David locked eyes with Michaels, who then gave a tiny nod and took a step back to allow the detective to continue. David regarded all the members of the Girardi family until finally, he too, looked upon Joan. "Detective Rita, Agent Michaels, and I are here in Arcadia in regards to an investigation. One that requires assistance from your father and the other officers from the APD."
Joan sat in attention, especially as she had gotten a mental flash of her brief encounter with God this afternoon. With a quiet dread, "So why are you telling us this? Our father tries, if anything, to keep his work away from home..."
"We're aware of that." Rita smiled softly at the young woman. "Your father had told us that."
"So, again, why?"
"Because, Joan," David began, his somewhat strict tone startled Joan to gaze up at him. "We had gotten a new lead... one that involves you."
Joan stared hard at David, random thoughts and doubts running through her head as she regarded him. Finally, finding her voice, she asked the question that was undoubtedly running through everyone else's mind; "What kind of case are you working on? How serious is it?"
David looked over at Michaels, who then turned to Will, whose own eyes were pained. Will nodded at the young agent, "It's okay..."
"Dad?" Joan looked at her father, even more confused and now feeling a bit of fear creeping through her veins.
"I suppose that I... that we," Michaels nodded at Rita and David, "Should start from the beginning."
"It's very important that we're honest with you, Joan." Rita said as her gaze turned to her partner.
David added, "There's no other way but telling the truth. Because this investigation depends on every single detail available."
Michaels once more took the floor, "Considering that--"
The fear began pumping through her even more steadily, which was added on to her anxiety and curiosity. "Look, just stop, okay? Stop running around in circles and just get to the point! I mean," She managed a joking grin, "It's not serious, right? This case? It's not like life or death, me being stalked by some psycho serial killer, right?"
Time seemed to stop just then. A silence answered Joan, which caused her to really focus on the detectives. Michaels's face had suddenly voided of any emotion, except empathy. David and Rita mirrored one another, as their reactions ranged from brief surprise to hesitation and finally they too shared the same expression as Michaels. Though, out of all the reactions to her outburst, it was her father's that had gotten to Joan. He had looked away just then, his eyes shut and his body stiffened to the point that even Helen had gotten this look of worry and fear.
"Right? Right?" Joan started saying, her voice rising on the cusp of anger and fear. "Someone speak up right now, please? I mean, like your silence isn't exactly the answer I wanted and it's starting to scare the shit out of me--"
"Joan." Helen's voice reprimanded.
"What? It's true, mom. I can even see it in your eyes that you're afraid. Because they know something that they're obviously not telling us within this decade. At least by the pace they're going!" She had risen up from her seat, her eyes flashing as they landed on Michaels. "Stop trying to do this family any favors, sparing any feelings, and just get to the point. Because just to let you detectives know, we've been through the exact same 'inevitable delay of the truth' bullshit with Kevin's doctors after his accident!"
Without the approval of Will, Michaels reached into his briefcase and pulled out a photograph. He handed it over to Joan, who then stared at it, confused. "What is this?"
In a no-nonsense voice that was laced with calm sympathy, "That collar right there? That was found two days ago on a toy lamb. That same toy was found in Edna Gregory's hands... Edna, who was found strangled in her bathtub... she was the sixth victim by the same serial killer that went after five more girls in the past six months."
Joan's gaze on the photograph was broken as she looked at Michaels. Her eyes were wide, her voice barely a stunned whisper. "Why does it have my name on it?"
"Unlike the other plush sheep that he had left behind, with the victim's name on it, the toy with Edna's name on had a collar. That very collar right there. So, Joan, we believe that either he knows we're on to him and that you're merely a decoy to distract us from his next true victim, or..."
Michaels had intentionally strayed off, especially as he gazed over to note the pained look on Will's face. The agent then turned towards David and Rita, both of whom were looking upon him with a mixture of respect and disbelief. Respect more from Rita's end, while David stared more in disbelief over how Michaels had handled himself.
Helen broke the silence that had fallen upon the room. Her voice was a mixture of anger and denial, a healthy combination from any parent upon discovering that their child is in danger. "Well, there you go, Agent Michaels. It just has to be a decoy, right? I mean, you said it yourself; all the other toys this killer has left behind didn't have collars, right? This one did. So it has to be a decoy. Because if you think that Joan, that my daughter, could be this-- this murderer's next victim, well, you've got the wrong girl."
Will placed a supportive hand on the small of Helen's back, softly caressing her arm with the other as he pulled her closer to him. David sadly regarded the couple, his sympathy mainly towards Helen.
With remorseful eyes, David gently said, "None of the five girls should have been right either..."
"Oh God..." Stunned as the realization seeped in, Helen placed a hand over her mouth, her eyes watering as she leaned into her husband's embrace. She looked up at Will and saw the same helplessness in his eyes that she began to feel herself. She then gazed over at her sons, noting that despite their obvious differences in personality, each of them mirrored the same look in their eyes as they regarded Joan; emotions ranging from disbelief, anger, fear, and finally fierce loyalty laced with silent adoration. Helen finally looked upon Joan, and the sight just broke her heart.
Joan felt as if she had just stepped out of her body and was just merely watching this movie playing before her. In her mind, Joan wasn't in any danger -- she, that other girl, was the one in danger. That wasn't Joan's name on the collar -- her name was. Everyone wasn't anxiously looking at Joan -- they were looking at her. And most of all, God didn't just abandon Joan -- He abandoned that other girl and left her, not Joan, to face this psychopath that was out there.
Suddenly, Joan felt the room getting smaller. She darted her eyes around, sensing the wall closing in on her and her lungs clasping tighter until she couldn't breathe. Gasping, she cried, "I have to go... I have to get out of here... I-I-I can't!"
Everyone in the room watched, stunned to move at first, as Joan rush past them and out the front door. It wasn't until the sound of the door pulled open and the cool night air making its way in that the others reacted to her departure. Instinctively, they all cried out to Joan, but it was Will, Michaels, and David that raced after her.
They stood on the front porch, their eyes adjusting to the dark. Will, the one most afraid for his daughter, starting crying out her name into the night. Soon, David began doing the same, but only in vain. It was as if she disappeared the moment she stepped out of the house, for there was no visible trace of the young woman.
"Will," Michaels began, his voice possessing a calmness that earned a raised, disbelieving look from David. "Do you have any idea where Joan might have gone? She's obviously upset. Is there any place, anyone, she can turn to in the current state that she's in?"
Despite the situation, a relieved smile appeared on his face. Quickly, he started making his way down the porch steps towards his car. Rita soon joined them, as she was the one to ask, "Where are you going?"
Without hesitation, "Tell my wife to call Carl Rove. Ask him if his son, Adam, is home and if he is, inform him that Joan ran away and to call us when they see her. If Adam isn't home, ask for his whereabouts because I don't doubt for a second that that is where she's gone to. Got it?"
"Yes, sir." Rita replied, then noting that David was half way inside of the car with Will, just as he was giving her the information. All it took was one shared look for her to understand that she was to remain while he accompanied Will. She headed on inside, just as she started to hear her partner call out to Michaels, who was standing midway on the porch steps.
"Comin' or what, Michaels?" Will had the ignition flaring, causing a roar of the engine loud enough for David to roll down his windows and yell at the agent.
He shook his head, "Going to help out Rita--" He began, but was cut off by David, as he glared.
"Rita can handle her own."
Ignoring his comment, "Explain the situation more to Helen. Then I have to head down to the station for some out-of-state information to be faxed over by tonight."
David glanced at Will, who merely shrugged as his hands anxiously gripped the steering wheel. He looked back at Michaels, giving him a hesitant, if not weary, "Okay." David gave a nod, to which signaled Will to peel out of the driveway. Through the door mirror, his gaze never left the sight of the agent. Michaels stood on the steps, immobile, watching them before he gave a silent nod and turned back inside. His actions undoubtedly caused a tiny knot in David's stomach.
JoA-/-JoA-/-JoA
Maryland -- Arcadia -- Home of Adam Rove
April 14, 2006 -- Friday
Never did the busy noise of metal being bent, twisted, and blended sound so sweet to Joan's ears. From the dark, her body emerged into the semi-illuminated room that was her Adam Rove's shed. On instinct, Joan ran to the only place she could truly feel safe. Safe and cut off from the rest of cruel humanity and the dangers that seem to be born from it.
Upon hearing those detectives revealing how her life was threatened, Joan felt the fear crumbling over her... and she felt trapped, suffocated... unable to breathe. So she ran. She escaped. Into open darkness and searching for the light. And she found it. More than just the sparks from which the flames dancing on metal produced... she found the light which illuminated from him. His soul... her best friend, her Adam Rove.
As she stepped ever so slowly into his shed, Joan was awash with the familiar sense of warmth and deja'vu. It was only two years ago that she had first step foot into Adam's shed. Two years since she first watched him creating one of his many beautiful artwork. Two years since she witnessed him talking to angels. She didn't know it then, but Joan could now smile back in realization that maybe that was the moment she first truly fell in love with him.
Which made Joan wonder... why did they break up in the first place? She recalled that it was quite amicable. That they both felt it needed to be done... that somewhere, somehow, their paths that had once collided into one another was now veering separately. Though Joan cannot recall the days which lead to their breakup, she did feel that it was right... at the time.
Joan shook her head, suddenly overwhelmed with guilt as she thought of Dane. It was wrong of her to feel regret over ending her romance with Adam because were it not for that end, she would never have this start with Dane. Dane who is nothing but sweet, honest, and loving with her. Who has just as much of her heart as Adam does... Joan knew she was falling in love with Dane, she could feel it with every single day that passes... yet, it started to beg the question; Why is she here?
Suddenly, she saw Adam stiffen and cut off the power to his welder. His back had been hunched over and facing her while sculpting. She knew that Adam would always slip into his own little world while working on his pieces. Which was why she would always try to sneak up, unnoticed, just to watch him. However, like this very moment, her sneaking would prove in vain for there was something about their bond that caused a sixth sense within Adam. A prowess that would always trigger his awareness of Jane's presence within proximity. Joan watched as Adam place his tools aside and turn around to lock eyes with her.
"Jane. Hey." He looked at her with his "Jane smile." Of all people to nickname one of Adam's smiles, it was Grace that christened one of them after Joan. Their friend had described that particular grin as a mixture of "nauseating shyness and doe-eyed worship." -- to which Adam gave his "Grace glare" that Joan quipped as a mixture of "idle confusion and polite exasperation."
Joan took another step in, though partly holding herself back and allowed a good distance for fear of breaking down on him without warning. However, as soon as Adam really looked into her eyes, through feigned smile and all, did he notice her hesitance. "What is it? Jane, what happened?" Concerned, he took a cautioned step towards her.
That mere act alone caused the young woman to rush straight into his arms.
Though no tears had spilled, just yet, her body trembled a sob. His arms held her, wrapping around with a quiet strength that only Adam Rove could provide. He didn't speak, just allowed his silent patience to comfort Joan until she felt ready to speak. They remained in that position for quite some time until Joan pulled back and looked up at him.
"What's wrong?" He asked as he reached over to tuck back a stray of hair behind her ear. His fingertips brushed gently along her face, causing a old familiar tremble through her. Adam's eyes never left her sight, which was all the more reason for Joan to question why they had broken up in the first place.
She opened her mouth, just now finding her courage...
"Adam should be in there, Will."
Joan's body stiffened upon hearing Carl Rove utter her father's name. Her grasp on Adam tightened as she heard the approaching voices of not just Adam's father, but of her own and Det. David Christian. She looked from Adam, to the door, and back on to Adam. She removed herself from his protectiveness, once more feeling the walls close in as she quickly explained, "Adam, I-I-I can't stay. I have to go."
Confused, and even a bit scared for her. "Wha-- why? Jane, what's wrong?"
Sadly, "I-I can't explain now. My dad--"
"Jane..." Adam reached for her hand, desperate to prevent her from running.
The shadows of three men danced on the doorway, just as Carl's head poked inside. "Adam? Mr. Girardi's here and he was wondering if--"
"Joan!" Will Girardi's eyes landed upon sight of his daughter, just as she instinctively jumped to Adam's side. Her father looked at her with a mixture of anger and relief.
"Daddy, wait, I-I can explain! I just needed to see Adam! To let him know--"
Just as confused as his own father, Adam asked upon deaf ears, "Know what?"
Despite David's insistence to Will that maybe he should calm down and talk to his daughter at home, Will ignored both David's suggestion and Joan's outburst. Merely reacting off his own scared emotions, "You shouldn't have left the house like that!"
"I told you, dad, that I needed to see Adam!"
"That is no excuse. No excuse! I don't care if you needed to see the Pope! Do you realize just how much you scared us by taking off like that? Me? Your brothers? Your mother? From now on, Joan, you are never to leave the house at night! Do you understand me?"
All fear momentarily left her body as angered pride took over. "Dad! No! No-- You can't do that! I'm eighteen years old and this is my life! You can't tell me what I can and can't do!"
"The hell I can! Do you not understand the situation that we're faced with? That your life is facing?!"
"That's why I came here! Why I needed to see Ad--"
"So that's why you ran away?! In the middle of the night? With a serial killer, a madman, out there trying to get you?!"
Stunned silence struck both Will and Joan upon the words that escaped his lips. Horrified by his outburst, Will stared at his daughter. Especially as the reality of her father's words sunk hard and deep within, causing the young woman to start shaking.
Without asking, nor hesitation, Adam reached for her as he allowed Joan to sob in his arms. Despite being confused, and surprised, by Will's words, Adam knew one thing; Jane was in trouble. And whatever trouble she was in, Adam silently promised himself that he would not let anything, anything, happen to his Jane.
Carl looked over at Will, who was still in disbelief over his outrage, then glanced over at David. "Is this true?"
David had placed a calm hand on Will's shoulder, just as he turned towards Carl. Indicating towards the door, "I think that... maybe we should let them talk..."
Carl nodded and started to follow David. However, he took one step out the door when he turned around to look upon his son. "Adam?"
Adam began soothing her sobs, lightly rubbing the small of her back and whispering to her. "It's okay... it's going to be okay, Jane... I'm here... I'm not going to let anything happen to you... it's going to be okay... I'm here..." He looked up at Will, holding his gaze as he added, "And so is your dad..."
Joan, who had her face buried in Adam's shoulder, pulled back and looked into his eyes. She nodded her head, though still numb from crying. She gave a soft smile as Adam leaned over, kissed her lightly on the forehead, then walked away to allow her some time with her father.
"I'm so sorry."
Joan had her back facing Will. She wrapped her arms around herself, silently listening to his apology.
"Joan, I... I-I shouldn't have yelled like that." Will ran a hand through his hair, his eyes desperate for her face. "Sweet heart, I... I was just scared. I know that's no excuse for my behavior but... oh, Joan, God, I've seen those picture!"
She turned to face him now, to watch as her father started to crumble before her eyes.
"The photographs they took of those girls. Pictures of what that--that bastard has done to them and... they were you. I saw you. Their faces were your face. Your face was on their bodies and... and I just. Got. Scared..."
Her lips quivered and her face scrunched up as the tears began to fall. "Daddy..." Joan ran to him, allowing him to sweep her into a tight embrace where both were afraid to let go.
"I'm sorry, Joan... God, I'm so sorry..."
"No. No, I'm sorry... Daddy, I'm so afraid... I'm so scared... I don't want to die..."
Despite his rough exterior breaking down, Will's voice hardened as he answered with a fierce love and determination only a father could posses. "That won't happen. I will not let that happen."
She held onto him, her head pressed against his chest and allowing herself to hear her father's heart. Reminding her of nights when she was a little girl, when she would fall asleep in her father's arms. Those rare nights where he'd come home before the 10 o'clock news, wanting to watch them in his chair. That same chair he would sit and a few seconds later, Joan would crawl up and make herself comfortable in daddy's arms. And while he listened to the news, and later to her softly snoring, Joan would fall asleep listening to his heart beating.
"On my life, sweet heart, I will never let that monster come anywhere near you." He whispered. "Never."
JoA-/-JoA-/-JoA
They were leaving the young man's house. All three of them.
David; the detective that thinks he'll discover all the answers.. "But answers aren't necessarily the truth..."
Will; the cop and the father, "Oh, he can try to stop me... to seek me out... But to do that, he must find that Who your daughter follows..."
And Joan. Joan Girardi... "The little child... little lamb who is most favored by her Shepherd."
From afar, all three entered Will's car, with David taking the back and Joan up front with her father. From afar, they started to drive away back towards Euclid Street.
From afar, he watched it all.
JoA-/-JoA-/-JoA-/-JoA-/-JoA-/-JoA
A/N: I would have written this chapter a lot sooner had I not realize how emotionally draining this particular chapter was. Honestly, I was a bit afraid to undertake the family reaction scene. Most particularly the Will/Joan scene because in my head, it was of the dramatic caliber worthy of appearing on the actual show itself. Hopefully I did it justice. If not, I'm sure that you'll let me know. Wow, is it any wonder why I try to stick to comedy? Drama is hard! So I dedicate this chapter to the freakin' genius writers of JoA. Never again will I harp on your dramatic skills. Oh, and I hope you J/A fans enjoyed this chapter. See? Just because Joan has a boyfriend that's not Adam, doesn't mean I've totally destroyed the connection shared between Joan and Adam. Long A/N short... more drama to come and until next chapter... which is coming.. soon... real soon...