Chapter 20: Pep Talks and Problems

Benton sat in an armchair next to Jonny's hospital bed. They'd made a quick high security trip to the hospital to get them both checked out, and then had been moved to one of the security apartments I-1 maintained on the base for witnesses, informants and the like. Not surprisingly, a number of these apartments came fitted out with hospital beds and other medical accouterments. Fortunately, his son only needed the bed.

Jonny had not yet awakened, but that wasn't surprising given the level of medication he'd been on for travel. Benton gazed at his younger son's sleeping face. Race was right, Jonny would undoubtedly recover in time, but how much time? There was no sure way to guess.

Hadji sat with him in the chair, slumped against his side, sleeping. He had hovered over them during their medical examinations, learning a great deal more about the hows and whys of Jonny's injuries than Benton would have preferred. Not that he would have kept the information from him, there just were better ways to break that kind of news.

The worry and alarm on Hadji's face had grown with the description of each new event, and Benton had finally made him sit down with him, keeping his arm around the boy's shoulders. Otherwise, he kept pacing around the room, fit to be tied. It wasn't often that Benton saw Hadji discomposed, but the brutality Crandall had visited on his brother had undone him completely. His adrenalin had crashed shortly after they'd been brought to this room, and he'd fallen asleep on his father.

Another armchair had been dragged into the bedroom, to the other side of the bed, and Race slumped there, also fast asleep. Both Benton and Estella had tried to persuade him to go to bed, but he said he had promised to be there when Jonny woke up, and he was determined to do it.

Benton was grateful. Race's presence, even asleep, would do much to comfort Jonny if he awoke suddenly. He'd been a fixture in the their lives since shortly after Jonny's mother died, and his presence then had done much to hold both Quest men together. Jonny and he were especially close.

Unfortunately, the medical exams and the pursuant questions and paperwork, as well as the need to be a calm, stabilizing influence on Hadji, had woken Benton up, so here he sat, wide-eyed and watchful. And thankful that his family was reunited. And doubly thankful that the reunion wasn't taking place within the corporation.

Estella walked in carrying a mug of hot chocolate. Jessie walked close beside her mother, wary of treading on masculine privacy, but clearly worried about Jonny.

"I thought you might like something to drink, Dr. Quest," Estella said quietly.

"Please, call me Benton," he said. "I'm terribly sorry to have dragged you and your daughter into this mess."

"Don't worry about it, Benton," she said. "Adventure is good for the spirit, and, with Race's job, if it wasn't you, it would be somebody else." She smiled at him. "At least you're educational."

"Mother!" Jessie hissed, turning a brilliant red that clashed spectacularly with her hair.

The two adults exchanged glances of parental amusement. Ignoring them ostentatiously, Jessie picked up a blanket from the chest at the foot of the bed and went to cover her father.

Estella's face became serious, watching her. She turned back to him and said, "Actually, I was also wondering if I could have a word with you, outside the range of the children?"

"We're young adults," came Jessie's soft voice from across the room. "Ask any librarian."

Estella raised her eyebrows. "Out of hearing, at least," she said with a little smile.

Benton wondered what she wanted to talk about. Jessie had walked back over to them, and she said, "I can keep an eye on them, Dr. Quest," she said. "If Jonny wakes up, I'll come get you right away." He sighed, then shifted gently out from under Hadji, leaving him asleep in the chair. Following Estella out into the living room, he shut the door behind them.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked, suspecting that he already knew. What mother would want her child associating with people who had such things happen to them? Jonny and Hadji, not to mention Race, would miss her. Would Race leave them?

"When was the last time you ate?" she asked.

Benton blinked in surprise. "I'm not sure, to be honest."

"I know they got something into Jonny at the hospital, but everyone seemed more interested in asking you questions than in feeding you." She beckoned him into the small kitchen where he found a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of soup. "Sit down and eat something, Benton, before you fall over."

He sat down gratefully, discovering that he was, indeed, starving. "Thank you, Doctor –"

"Estella, please. After all, we're family now."

This caught him while he was chewing, and he gulped. "What?" he asked.

"Sorry, Benton, just a bad joke." He knit his eyebrows and kept eating. "When Race went to investigate that first island, he realized that if he died, there was no clear guardian for Hadji."

Benton paused in his meal. "I'd never thought of that."

"Well, he made Phil get him a piece of paper and he wrote out a document making me the tertiary guardian for both boys." She shrugged. "So, we're almost family."

Benton considered this notion and found it appealing, insofar as anything that involved both he and Race being dead could be. "If really you don't mind, I'm glad he did," he said finally. "It's an elegant solution that I would never have suggested."

"Elegant?" she said, a twinkle in her eye. "I'll take that as a compliment. However, it set me to thinking. Were something to happen to both Race and I, Jessie would, as things stand, go either to my parents or to Race's uncle. Neither of us has ever wanted her to go to that old wretch, and my parents are getting on in years." Benton raised his eyebrows, wondering if this was going where he thought it was going. "My father isn't well, and Mother has her hands full with him." She pursed her lips. "I'd have to discuss it with Race, of course, but I can't see him objecting. Would you consider being Jessie's guardian if that catastrophe should arise?"

"That would be a catastrophe, indeed," Benton said, hardly liking to think what life would be like without Race. "But of course I would." His eyes fell to his plate. "Though if you knew all of what happened in the last few days, I'm not sure you'd be so eager."

This seemed to be the night for Estella to surprise him. "If you're referring to the fact that both you and Jonny spoke about Jessie and I to that bastard, Crandall, I can understand why."

"You can?" Benton asked, eyes widening.

Her expression grew very serious. "All I have to do is put Jessie and I in your place, and it's all too easy."

He nodded. "I am sorry, nevertheless." Then he thought for a moment and looked up. "How do you know about that?"

She sat down at the table across from him. "I don't know if you realize this, but video recordings were left behind at the first island."

Benton stopped eating altogether and stared at her. "Did you see them?"

"No, but Race did. I only know they left him very shaken, and that things got ugly when Crandall started asking questions about us."

Race saw them, Benton thought. What did he see? What recordings were left behind, and how? Estella pointed at his plate, and he started eating again.

"Are you okay, Benton?" she asked. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"I just – I can't adjust to the thought." Benton shook his head. "I don't like thinking about Race having to watch anything that happened there. It was bad enough while it was going on."


When Jonny woke up, he saw Jessie on the end of his bed, sitting cross-legged and reading a book. The room was unfamiliar, but as he glanced around he saw Hadji asleep in a chair on one side of the bed and Race likewise on the other. His father wasn't in the room.

Jessie looked up, startled, then grinned. "The sleeping prince awakes!"

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Washington, D.C., I-1 Headquarters." She slipped off the bed. "I've got to get your dad."

He watched her go, then jumped at a sudden movement beside him. He felt pretty foolish when he turned his head and saw that it was just Race sitting up to stretch. "Easy, champ," Race said, smiling. "How're you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess," Jonny said. His arm wasn't hurting, though there was an odd ticklish sensation near his elbow that he couldn't reach . . . He tried not to think about that. His ribs were okay, and the gash on his thigh had started to itch the way that meant it was healing.

Race had gotten up as he'd evaluated his condition, and now he stood over Jonny, looking down with a broad grin. "It's good to have you back, kiddo," he said.

"It's good to be back," Jonny said, grinning back up at him. His grin faded, though, as the thought that Race would be angry with him struck him. He wrinkled his eyebrows, trying to remember why he was so sure that Race would be mad at him.

Race evidently noticed his change of expression, because he sat down on the edge of the bed and said, "What's the matter, Jonny?" Before Jonny could answer, his father came in.

"I'm glad to see you awake," he said, coming over to the other side of the bed and putting his hand on Jonny's head. "How are you feeling?"

Jonny shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

Race snorted, and said, "That's all I got out of him, too."

Estella had come in behind his dad, and he managed to smile at her. "Hello, Jonny, it's good to see you," she said. The memory of just why Race would be angry, just what he had done, what he had said about Jessie and Race, came crashing down on him suddenly. Much to his dismay and embarrassment, he felt tears welling up in his eyes. Jessie had come back, too, and he didn't want her to see him cry. He turned his face away.

"I think we'd better give the guys some time alone," Estella said.

"But, Mom," Jessie said as she was steered out. "Is he cry–?" The end of that question was mercifully cut off when the door shut.

"Jonny, what's wrong?" Race asked again, and his father sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning over him.

"Jonny?" he asked. "Are you hurting?" Jonny shook his head and tried to stop the tears that were running down his cheeks.

"What is going on?" asked Hadji in a sleepy voice, and Jonny wanted the bed to swallow him whole. He felt like a great big wuss, as pathetic as Crandall had said he was.

Silent communication seemed to pass between his father and Race, then his father put am arm around Hadji's shoulders and guided him out of the room. Jonny kept trying to stifle the crying, but the effort was making his ribs hurt.

Race gazed down at him sympathetically. "All right, Jonny, out with it. What's on your mind?" Jonny's head was still turned away, and he reached out a hand towards Jonny's chin. Without thinking about it, Jonny flinched away. When he saw the surprise and alarm on Race's face, the tears broke through and he started sobbing. That hurt his ribs, too. He brought his good hand up to his face and tried to cover his eyes. He was acting like such a baby!

Race gently shifted him so that Jonny was leaning against his chest and said, "It's okay, Jonny. Everything's going to be okay."

"No, it's not!" Jonny managed to say.

Race let him cry for a couple minutes, then spoke in a very gentle tone. "Is this about the stuff you told Crandall about Jessie and me?" Jonny choked and looked back at Race over his shoulder in surprise. "Yes, I know about that. Dr. Pascale made a VCD to use against Crandall."

Race paused, and Jonny said, "She's dead."

"Yes, she is," Race said. "That's why we have the VCD." Jonny took a couple of deep breaths, trying to get himself under control. "So I saw what happened, and I agree with your dad. There wasn't anything else you could do."

"But Jessie – I –"

"You didn't tell him anything they couldn't have found out from school records, Jonny. You did just what you should have." Jonny tried to digest this, but it felt wrong. You didn't tell bad guys about your friends, no matter what. "What matters to me is that you stayed alive long enough for us to bring you back."


Jonny was quiet for a while after Race had his say, and Race wasn't sure what he was thinking. Poor kid, he'd been through so much over the last week and a half. And Lord knew what had happened since they'd changed locations. Corvin's men were still combing that facility for evidence, and he didn't doubt there would be some.

"I'm sorry I'm being so pathetic," Jonny said finally. Race raised his eyebrows. Where was that coming from?

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I keep crying and stuff," Jonny explained. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I never used to do this."

"Nothing's wrong with you, Jonny. Your reaction is perfectly normal." Jonny's silence spoke for volumes of disbelief, and Race persevered. "You've never been in a situation like that before, and Crandall was scary."

Jonny shuddered. "Yeah," he said with feeling. "You don't know the half of it."

Race kept himself from tensing, knowing that would alarm Jonny, and kept his voice neutral even though he wanted to scream and shout. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"He was nuts," Jonny said. "It didn't matter what Dad or I did, it was wrong. If Dad had handed him all the projects, done, on a silver platter, he would have complained that the platter wasn't shiny enough."

"You're probably right."

"And – and he had a gun, the last time we saw him." Jonny's voice was hushed, and he seemed very distressed, Race was quiet. There had to be more, Jonny'd seen guns before, he'd face them without flinching. "He held it to Dad's head, and he pulled the trigger."

"He did what?" Race asked, appalled.

Jonny was on a roll. Race doubted he could stop now that the words were coming out. "The gun was empty, but I couldn't tell that. Neither could Dad. He just kept pulling the trigger. He hit me with the gun when I tried to make him stop, that's how my arm got broken, I think." He took a deep breath, but before Race could say anything, he went on. "And it's my fault! If he'd killed Dad, it would have been my fault!"

"Whoa, there, Jonny. How do you mean, it's your fault?"

"I – I threw him," Jonny said. "I got scared, and I panicked, and I threw him into a table. He was really angry, but he didn't do anything right then because he had to leave, had to catch a plane."

"I see."

"We thought he was gone," Jonny said. "When he came back, he had the gun, and he – so you see, it was my fault. He was angry with me for throwing him, and he said that the next time there would be a bullet." Race felt his stomach clench. It was no wonder Jonny was so upset.

"It wasn't your fault, Jonny."

"It was! It was!"

"No, it wasn't. It couldn't be your fault. You weren't in control of the situation." Jonny shook his head miserably, clearly not believing him. "Do you know why he had to leave?"

"He said something about having to clear himself when he was arguing with Mr. Morgan. Something about the board."

"Has it occurred to you that he might have been angry about something that happened while he was gone?" Jonny shook his head, seeming startled by this new perspective. "It wasn't your fault, nothing that happened there was your fault. You couldn't have stopped him. The man is sick. From what I've seen, he has a need to be violent. You had it right before, nothing you could have done would have pleased him. If you hadn't thrown him, he would have picked something else to be furious at." He ruffled Jonny's hair. "The way your hair grows, or the angle of your nose. He's just the kind of man who will find any excuse to hit people."

Jonny didn't say anything for a minute, but then he said, "Maybe."

"There's no maybe about it," Race said firmly. "A grown up who hits kids like that has something badly wrong with them." Pursing his lips, Race considered some of the events of his own past. "Jonny, you know that when my parents died, I went to live with my father's brother, my Uncle Ezrah?"

"Yeah," Jonny said. "We went to see him once, the sea serpent that turned out to be plesiosaur. You almost got killed in that fire."

"Right," Race said, remembering that visit. Much had happened, both good and bad. Mostly good, on close consideration.

"You've never talked about him much," Jonny said. "I remember you said something about there being things you couldn't and maybe shouldn't forgive."

"You've got quite a memory, Jonny," Race said. "You're right, though, I don't talk about him much. Probably because I don't like to think about him much."

"Because he beat you and the other kids?" Jonny asked quietly.

Race sighed. "That, and because he wasn't a nice man. He'd say things that flayed you to the bone, and then tell you it was for your own good. Words can be just as hurtful as blows, Jonny. And the bruises from them can last longer, because the healing is different." Jonny nodded, but he didn't say anything. "I get the feeling, from things I saw and things you've said, that not all of what Crandall did was physical. That he said some things that got under your skin."

Jonny shrugged, which was as good as admitting it. "Well, don't let it bug you," Race said. "He was a bastard and a liar, and nothing he said about you was true. Take it from me. I know you a hell of a lot better than he did, and you're tops in my book."

"Thanks, Race." They sat together for a few minutes without talking, then there was a loud gurgle from Jonny's stomach, echoed almost immediately by Race's stomach. They both laughed, and Race helped Jonny out of bed.

"I think it's time that we got ourselves some food, kiddo. What do you say to grilled cheese sandwiches?"

"Sounds great!"


One pep talk was not going to alleviate Jonny's distress long term, Race thought as he watched the kids play Chinese checkers with Bandit flopped on his back beside Jonny, sound asleep. But it seemed, for now, to have made him a little calmer, though he was still very jumpy.

Estella was on the phone with the foreman of her dig. She'd undoubtedly need to leave soon, and he wondered if Jessie would go with her. He wondered if she was going to object to Jessie's continuing to live at the Quest compound after this interlude. He could hardly blame her if she did.

Benton sat on the sofa, also watching the kids with a bland look on his face that told Race clearly that he was trying to hide his emotions. He walked over and sat down next to him, but Benton didn't take his eyes away from Jonny and Hadji. Currently, Jessie was ribbing them both because she was beating them soundly. Race glanced at his friend's face and sighed. They hadn't yet had a chance to talk about Jonny's reaction earlier.

After a moment, Benton turned to him and said, "So, what was bothering Jonny?" He kept his voice low and calm, but his eyes were intense on Race's.

"He was worried that I'd be angry with him over what he told Crandall."

Benton was silent for a moment, then lifted an eyebrow. "And are you?" he asked hesitantly.

Race was flabbergasted. Surely Benton knew him better than that. "Of course not, Benton," he replied, keeping his voice as low as he could so as not to attract attention from the kids. Jonny glanced up, eyes a little wide, but when Race gave him a smile, he went back to the game. "Not at him or at you. You did what you had to, to stay alive and keep Jonny alive."

"I thought you'd feel that way, but you wonder sometimes." Benton looked away. "Occasionally people react to things in ways even they wouldn't have expected."

"Well, not me and not this." Benton didn't say anything, and he didn't look back at him. Race tilted his head. "Do you feel guilty?" he asked.

Benton nodded, and looked down at his hands, which he held clasped in his lap. "A bit," he said so quietly that Race had to strain to hear him. "But I'd do it again in a hearbeat if Jonny was in danger."

"Good," Race said firmly. Benton looked up and gave him the ghost of a smile. "So, how are you holding up?"

Benton leaned forward, an expression of calm confidence on his face, and rested his palms on his knees. "I'm fine, Race," he said in a nonchalant tone. "You know me."

Race nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know you all right." His tone made Benton turn to glare at him, lips pursed. "You'd sooner chop off your right hand than admit to weakness."

"That's not true," Benton objected, though Race noted that his hands had curled into fists. "There's just no point in discussing things we can't change."

Sighing, Race shrugged, giving up on getting Benton to open up for now. "Jonny said Crandall played a sort of Russian roulette with you."

Benton stiffened and closed his eyes. "Yes. Yes, he did."

"Jonny thinks it's his fault." Benton's eyes flipped open and he stared at him aghast.

"I may have got him temporarily convinced that he isn't to blame for anything that happened, but with Jonny you never know."

"Right," Benton said thoughtfully.

"And I started to lift his chin, to get him to look at me, gently, you know, but the minute my hand moved toward him, he flinched." Benton's eyes went to Jonny's face, and Race followed his gaze. The larger bruises were a fading yellow now, giving his face a sort of sallow complexion, though around his eye there were still hints of purple, and there were newer bruises around his chin. Race wondered how those had come about, and if they had anything to do with Jonny's reaction to him earlier.

"The scars from this 'adventure' will run pretty deep, I'm afraid," Benton said quietly. "I wasn't even there for most of what happened to him at the second facility."

"What did happen?" Race asked.

"What, aren't you going to watch the security tapes again?" Benton asked, and Race was surprised by the slight resentment he detected in his friend's voice.

"Benton, I had to, we had to know –"

"I know, I know." Benton shook his head and leaned back into the sofa. "I just – I'd rather you hadn't seen it, I guess."

"Why?"

Benton cocked a wry and weary grin up at him. "Maybe – I don't know. It's harder to downplay events that somebody else witnessed." Race nodded, enlightened. "But you had to look, you had to know. And for Jonny's sake, it's better that you did. I'm not sure I can talk to him about what happened. He'd probably just shut down." He shook his head. "He didn't even tell me when that brute broke his ribs. Said it was no big deal."

"Crandall again?"

"Oh, no," Benton said. "Crandall wasn't even at the facility yet from what I was told. It was Marcus. He tried to kick Bandit, and Jonny intervened, so Marcus shoved him into a stair railing."

"My God."

"And everyone, excluding Marcus, Chris and Crandall, kept telling us that this wasn't how things were done, and that Crandall was behaving oddly." There was suppressed rage in Benton's eyes as he went on. "All I could think was how little difference that made to Jonny and me. Crandall was who was there." Race sat in silence, not sure what to say. "I was so helpless. It seemed that anything I said to the man was wrong, and if Jonny spoke out of turn, he went ballistic." Benton shook his head. "I've never seen Jonny so frightened in my life."

"Well, after that first incident, I can see why," Race commented, shivering as he recalled the look on Crandall's face.

Benton stiffened again. "The first incident?" he asked. "Which first incident?"

Race looked over at him. "When the bastard nearly killed him, digging his hand into Jonny's injury."

"You saw that?" Benton asked. "Wait. They said all the footage from the first facility was damaged in transit. Was some of it left behind?"

"Not exactly," Race said. "You know that he killed Dr. Pascale, right?"

"I suspected as much. Why?"

"He left her behind. It looked like he shoved her down the stairs and left her for dead."

Benton's attention sharpened. "She wasn't dead?"

"Not when he left, though she was by the time we found her. But he didn't bother to search her body, and she'd put together a presentation for the Board on his actions. What we have is a collection of exerpts chosen specifically to highlight Crandall's cruelty and your attempts to cooperate."

Benton was shaking his head. "So she was on our side, in a manner of speaking." He looked down at his hands again, and then back to Race. "What exactly happened, Race? If you saw what happened, you know I wasn't there, and I never asked Jonny."

Race looked over at the boy, who was telling a wide-eyed Jessie and Hadji some kind of story. He wondered how much Jonny would tell them about the last week and a half. "He – Jonny made a crack about his 'menacing act' and that sent Crandall through the roof. He grabbed Jonny's leg and –" Race broke off, shaking his head. "That was disturbing enough, but the expression on his face . . . . He waited to start hurting him until Jonny made eye contact with him, and he actively enjoyed the pain and terror he was causing."

Benton's face had paled. "You're saying that he made sure Jonny knew he was having fun? I knew he was a sadist, but – no wonder Jonny was so afraid of him." He looked back towards his sons. "I wish he'd been killed rather than Morgan."

Race had never heard Benton actively wish for the death of another being. Crandall had a great deal to answer for. He could only hope the corporation would 'fire' him, but they likely would never know whether that happened or not.