Chapter Six

Brenda was losing her already lost temper. No one would tell her anything. Where was Sonny? Carly? Those weird women from the boat? That hunky guy?

Her plum juice?

She'd tried to ask nicely but they had never brought her any. They just ushered her backing to the interrogation room. So she went back out. And then they manhandled her to get her back in the room. So she yelled at them that she wasn't a cow. They pushed harder. Told her to wait. That it would all be explained to her if she was just patient.

Patient her very valuable hind end.

Then they'd locked the door. She'd yelled. She banged. Hell, she's taken a chair to the door. Nothing. She was feeling trapped. Vulnerable. She had to fight against that.

No one would tell her anything. They just trapped her in the room, with that big mirror to watch her. It gave her the willies. It wasn't like being watched because she was special...famous. It was like she was special...crazy.

Like she was crazy. Like she was her mother.

That made her a little crazy.

So she took the chair and went after the watchers.

Screaming Brenda raised the chair with her hands to the mirror. "Tell," she pulled back, "me," she swung connecting with the glass, "where," she pulled back, "Sonny," she swung, "is." She pulled back.

Begging after information on the people who would make her feel safe, put her back on home ground, she fought the mirror. Swinging again and again she watched the spider web of cracks grow. She watched as the glass began to curve in.

She watched, she screeched, she flailed.

She was getting tired. She began to feel the stiff and sticky trails of tears down her face.

"Where," she sobbed, "is," she sobbed again, "Sonny?" And again.

Her arms got limp. She began to stumble backwards, fall over, and simply bawl. As much as she wanted to keep fighting she was tired. She rested the chair's bent legs on the floor.

But if she stopped the watchers would just go on messing with her.

Enough with the silent treatment.

She wasn't crazy.

She raised her arms above her head one more time and made an Indian war call as she tore towards the two-way mirror.

Just before she struck she heard it.

"Brenda." Her name called in the loud, listen-to-me-because-I-am-cockier-than-you voice that she knew so well. And to be honest, he sounded kinda ticked about it.

Brenda lowered her arms as she turned around. Curving over her shoulder, her arms still raised, her view wasn't great. "Sonny?"

"You were looking for me?" Sure he sounded ticked but it was him.

"Sonny," Brenda dropped the chair as if she'd never held it and launched across the room at him. She threw her arms around him and wrapped her legs around him. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you." She patted his back all friendly-like.

"Ok, Brenda. Ok, you need to let go. Ok? I'll answer all your questions you just...um...I need a minute to ...ah... breathe here."

"Oh," sometimes she just didn't know her own strength. "Sure." She let go and looked at him. God he looked good to her. So good. He'd stopped them. The watchers. "Oh, you look good." She chucked him under the chin.

"Thanks...um. You doin' ok? You need anything?" He was holding her arms at arms length and looking at her like he was extremely concerned. He was such a good friend and they would always be friends. He would always care about her like she would always care about him.

"Yeah, out of here. Sonny," she laughed and wiped at her face, "Sonny, these people are crazy. Crazy. They wouldn't answer my questions, or tell me what happened. They," she yelled out the still open door, "wouldn't let me call anybody." She looked back to Sonny and smiled. Her savior. "But it's ok, you're here. You'll get me out, right? I can't stay here."

She felt the banging panic start again at the back of her skull. It made breathing hard, seeing difficult.

"No, no," he said in a soft tone. "It's ok. You have to stay here." He looked around the room. "Well maybe not in here. But you can't go home right now. It's not safe. The people who grabbed you would go after you and Carly."

"But, but, why can't I just make a phone call." She was crying again. "They wouldn't let me make a call. I just want to make a phone call Sonny."

Sonny, who cared about her, pulled her into his arms and let her cry on his shoulder.

"Shh, yeah, I know. Brenda. It's ok. Shhh."

Sonny was just about at the end of his rope. When he'd shown up Brenda was on her second destroyed room. She was a disaster herself.

He never should have left her without anyone. It was his fault. He shouldn't have let them lock her up. He should have been there.

He knew Brenda didn't handle his life well, but he didn't think that this, the beginning of the end, would be her undoing. He felt horrible. Guilty. She'd been at the end of her rope. And he'd done everything he could to calm her down. Then she started crying. She'd look like she was about to collapse when he'd put his arms around her.

If Brenda had another break because of him he'd.... He wasn't sure. He'd find away to make it right. He'd get her the best treatment, protect her. Whatever it took to fix her.

Could all the king's horses and all the king's men to put Humpty together again? This was not a thought running through Sonny's mind. His were all of guilt. His lies, his job, his work his choices had done this to her. He had done this to her... that was all he could see.

She sniffed across from him, finally starting to resemble some one at least partially calm. "Sorry." She laughed. "I was a little freaked out." She cocked her head and nodded at him. "See, this is what you get when you give me the silent treatment. Not pretty."

"You're still pretty." Being pretty reassured Brenda that things were the same. Things were ok, familiar. She needed the familiar. Take her out of her element and she freaked out trying to find something comfortable.

"Thanks." She blew her nose.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah," she shrugged, "yeah. Momentary lapse in the ok, but I'm better now."

"Good, good." Thank God was more along the lines he meant. "Can I get you something? Anything?" Anything to keep her from nearly breaking again. He needed to take care of her so she didn't break. He didn't want to be the one to break her.

"Yeah, um. Can I get some plum juice."

"Plum juice?"

"Yeah, organic... hand squeezed."

Inanimate