Stand By Me

Chapter Eight

Maggie Stone burst into the Pine Valley hospital just past one a.m. as a pale, shaking mess. In the first pair of jeans she'd found and a turtleneck, she'd shrugged on a jacket before grabbing her cell phone and throwing herself into her car. Tugging fearfully on the scarf looped lightly around her neck, she walked hard and fast towards the nurse signing papers behind the counter.

The nurse apparently wasn't a fan of having terrified young women lunging at her shrieking in the middle of the night but then this was Pine Valley, so who could blame her? "Cohen. Amy Cohen. She's five-foot-eight, black-hair, blue-eyes; she's a Taurus, born in 1983… where is she? She came in with Derek Frye and was with Joe Martin—"

"Maggie!"

She spun away from the desk, watched Anita Santos coming down the hallway at a brisk pace; when Maggie got to her, she grabbed the blonde by the arms, stopping her from running through the hospital in the middle of the night shrieking for Amy like some mother hen, thinking it would work.

"You need to calm down. Joe's been expecting you—"

"Amy?"

"Fine," Anita assured her quickly and, turning, she led Maggie back down the hall. "She looks like she was just shaken and there's a big bruise on her arm from when she hit the floor. Other than that though, she seems fine and Joe says she can be released in the morning."

Maggie was only half-listening, mainly because her eyes had just caught sight of Derek Frye and another officer. Tugging her arm from Anita's hold, she quickened her pace, shoving past the annoyed officer and surging into the room where Amy sat with her legs swinging from the table and her hair in a loose and sad-looking bun.

The next few steps weren't even steps, just a sudden lunge of female weight across tiles and her arms latched around Amy, burying her face in her neck and just standing there, savoring the fact that she could hold her. Beneath her hands, through the shirt and cheap blanket, Amy's skin was warm and she savored that too, swallowing and struggling not to let tears roll down her face.

It took a good minute to calm herself, to sooth the terror and relief and panic that drummed through her veins like some kind of drug; when it faded, dimmed, it left a sluggish ache in its place, something that made her feel heavy and awkward and she pulled from Amy's hold with a defeated noise, turning to Derek.

"Where is he? Can I see him, talk to him… shove a grenade up his ass?"

Derek Frye was not a bad guy and he knew Maggie Stone well enough to be afraid for his own personal safety when she learned this next little fact; sadly, seeing as how he had to, he told her as calmly and soothingly as possible, "We don't have him yet."

There was a long moment of silence as she stared at him, face blank, eyes empty and hands limp at her sides. She turned partly, eyed Amy and then looked back at Derek, taking several steps forward to glare up at him. "'We don't have him yet'? What do you do, sit around in your office, eating bon-bons like police chief Wiggums! She was attacked! As in, someone came after her with every intention of harming her in some way—"

At her back, Amy made a noise of desperation but Maggie simply lifted her hand and, even from where she stood, she heard Amy's mouth snap shut with a sound of click of teeth and a sigh that spoke quite clearly of what it felt like to constantly be protected by Maggie Stone.

"There is someone dangerous in Pine Valley and you don't even have him in custody! That was a locked hotel room! What did he do, pop out of existence and merrily go on his way of attacking women! What the hell were you doing while he was escaping! Did you learn nothing from Michael Cambias!"

"Maggie—"

She twisted away from him, raising a hand to her face and fighting back another wild surge of that blending of terror and relief and panic; she wished that drumming in her ears would quiet and that her spinning would stop. Bianca didn't need to be protected any more but Amy did… Amy did and this time it wasn't a bastard who threw empty bottles at her and locked her out of the house in winter.

And then she felt the hand on her back. It was a hand, just a hand. Four fingers and a thumb and a palm and a wrist but it was so much more and, with her face still pressed into her palm, she breathed, just focused on the way her breath came in and went out of her lungs, focused on the way the hand felt on her back. She could hear Derek going on about their continued searches for the attacker and it didn't matter.

Amy was safe. Amy had gotten out in time and was safe and where she was supposed to be. She drew in a shuddering breath and let it out, took a step away from Derek and closer to Amy, felt the hand slide from the edge of her back to her spine and then around, settling on her shoulder and gripping it with that warmth she had.

At her hip, she felt Amy's long legs, something Frankie had always bitched about, about how Amy had those legs and never used them to get attention while her and Mags were stuck with their short legs that got no attention. It was an absurd memory but there it was, a sudden image in her head and the smell of the alcohol that they'd been cleaning out of the carpet at the time.

Maggie twisted again, took a final step forward and was instantly pulled into a hold, into strong arms that locked around her and held her and she relented, easing into the hold, leaning her head against the shoulder… behind her, Derek continued to make excuses, continued to talk and it just didn't matter.

And then the body she was resting against shifted the slightest bit, and Maggie took a moment to rub her face against the fabric of the blanket and the shirt, rub away any moisture before turning the smallest bit to see Joe Martin entering with a calm smile and soothing eyes.

Joe Martin was a soothing man and Maggie, still partly in Amy's hold, was suddenly intensely joyful to see him there and felt some of that pain in her chest ease. He set the pile of papers on the counter, turning to Derek who stood staring blankly. "Now, then, it looks like I missed some drama here. Derek, I assume you have that man in custody?"

"No, Dr. Martin, he's still out there." Boy, was there a quality of a bruised boy there, a kid who had lost his big brother's toy and was now trying to make excuses.

"He got out past the crowd Ms. Cohen gathered that easily?" Not accusatory or nasty or angry, just curious and Maggie was dazedly aware of Amy's hands on her shoulders, fingers pressing rhythmically into her muscle and skin… maybe she should go to Joe for lessons of how to stay calm in the face of stupidity?

"Actually, Dr. Martin, he slipped in and out of Ms. Cohen's hotel room by her window. The lock was jimmied and he got in; while she was outside and before the crowd went in, he slipped out and took off." He squirmed the slightest bit at Joe's calm look and the way he drummed fingers across the counter and finally looked away. "We have the entire town on lockdown… we can't have some maniac running around, attacking women."

"Then maybe you should be out there with them?"

"Yes… yes, of course… ahem, Stone, Ms. Cohen?" At their blank looks, he turned and left, shutting the door behind him and leaving Maggie and Amy alone with Joe; eyeing them warmly, he stepped forward and Maggie scampered out of Amy's hands, feeling drained and sluggish and not hating the idea of stretching out on the warm tiles and sleeping right there.

"Maggie, Ms. Cohen is in fine hands."

"Are you sure?" She hesitated, hands clenched at her sides, watching as Joe started flipping through some of the papers with a tilted head and pleasant smile. "I mean, she was attacked and, what if she has a concussion or some inner bleeding?"

"No, Maggie. You're friend is in fine shape. In fact, I have no doubt she's in better shape than whoever tried to get his hands on her." He looked up, offered a smile to Maggie. "Amy here apparently rabbit-kicked him with more strength that he expected her to possess. I would not advise her to go back to that hotel room though."

"God no!" Maggie surged forward, not even caring about the way Amy sighed in exhaustion. "Absolutely not! What if she hadn't gotten away and he'd gotten a real hold on her! No, she needs to get a real place with a real window and a real lock and if she tries to fight me on this, I'll shove that grenade I have saved for that attacker up her ass instead."

"Maggie, I told you, I'm looking for—"

"Amy, I could not give a flying rat's ass about what you want right now." She looked at Joe, held up a palm in desperation. "Am I wrong here?"

"There has to be a couple somewhere willing to take me in!"

"Can you believe this?" She gestured angrily towards Amy, who stuttered at the sudden display of anger. "She's just been attacked and she still refuses to let me help her with the apartment issue."

"I want to find boarders, Maggie, not some unfeeling people who… don't feel."

"Oh, for…"

"Excuse me!" The bark of surprising force turned both pairs of eyes toward him, and he beamed, taking a few steps closer to Amy and Maggie. "You were talking about boarders? Elderly boarders who'd be kind enough to open their home to a young woman? Who would like to offer up rooms that their children no longer need?"

Jonathon eased in, eyes flitting across the slightly wrecked apartment, where Maggie had run out just a few minutes before, shaking and pale. He sighed, deeply, eyes closed for a moment as he contemplated his ability to get into the bathroom. Finally, with another sigh, this one deeper, he started across the living room, stepping quietly into the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

"Jonathon, this is just too bad. We can't hide here, okay, baby? It's too dangerous here and they'll find us and they'll drag us back kicking and screaming and we won't be able to stop them… you have to trust me on this, okay?"

His jacket was shrugged off, dropped to the floor as a pile of leather and he stepped closer to the bathroom mirror, fingers catching the edge of his black shirt and tugging it up, peeling it off over his head and dropping it as well. Shit… the marks were already swelling, turning from red to a darker, deeper purple.

"No, no… we can find Ryan and he'll take care of us… he said he'll take care of us, Erin! He promised us that he would be there and protect us and you have to believe that like I do because he keeps his promises!"

He rubbed a hand across a small splotch of dark color, twisting just enough to glance over the long angry marks from where his back had hit that damn table not once but twice… it was already hurting and he grimaced at his next deep breath. What kind of woman kicked like that, damn it!

"He doesn't care about us, baby, he never did and he still doesn't… where has he been the last three months, when we both needed him so much, so badly? He's off somewhere else, sowing his wild oats, probably knocking up woman up and down the Eastern seaboard!"

He bit his lip, exhaled slowly as he stared down at the marks, remembering how angry Erin always got, how those sweet eyes turned hateful and angry but the pain in her voice gave it all away and she'd simply stand there, this little girl in a woman's body, desperately clinging to anything she could.

"Erin… no… please don't talk like that… please, Erin, he loves us and we can find him, okay? It can all be okay and we can be okay… we can be fixed and Ryan can do it… he'll give us what we need."

Jonathon let out his next breath as an angry groan, something low and deep and the pain it brought simply brought on more anger for him, more that danced in his veins like some perverted ballerina on some kind of perverted high. His hands held the cold porcelain on the sink, gripped it in a firm hold as he stared at the mark across his stomach, where he'd stumbled as he dragged himself out of that damn window of hers… his…

"No…"

Twisting, turning from his reflection, ignoring the fear in his own gaze, the weakness that came from just a few of her good kicks… he checked his shirt, and found no blood and the same on his jacket and he sighed gratefully, letting the shirt drop into the hamper. His hands found his jeans, started working on tugging his belt off.

"Erin…"

And his head jerked up when his cell phone rang. Grimacing, he reached behind him, unhooked it from the back of his jeans with an exhausted sigh and checked the number, feeling a surge of relief at finding her number there, her name spelled out in squared letters across blue light. "Maggie."

Immediately, concern filled her voice, that tenderness that she rarely gave him and always gave Bianca whenever she walked in front of her, tossing dark hair and batting big brown eyes, making Maggie think she might have a chance. "Jonathon… baby, what's wrong?"

"Jonathon, baby, you're wrong… if we dropped off the face of the Earth, disappeared, wound up in a ditch in two months as rotting bodies… he wouldn't give a damn because we don't matter… when you were younger, yeah, it was convenient to love you but now?"

A shudder ran through him, raced up his spine and caused pain to spread across his back as a series of sudden flashes… it took everything he had not to cry out… she'd taken him by surprise and now it was paying him back for his lack of common sense… if she couldn't handle her, how was she supposed to handle him? "Maggie… where are you… you're not here."

"Erin, you have to stop saying these things, you don't remember him… he protected us, protected me for so long and he did so much to help us…"

A moment of silence, hesitancy and she finally replied, a soft murmur of words that reminded him of a lull… or maybe a lullaby… hmm… so that's where the word 'lullaby' came from… "Amy's in the hospital; some crazy bastard tried to do God only knows what to her but she got him a few times before she got away."

"Get in the car and buckle your seatbelt and just stay there while I get everything ready. Do it and do as I say, Jonathon."

She had no idea… holding the phone between shoulder and ear, he got back to the work of getting his belt off and to the floor between his finger starting struggling with the buttons; he started working his jeans off, ignoring how much it hurt him as he did. "Well, is she okay? She isn't hurt is she? Hurt in some way that can't be healed?"

"Erin…"

He heard her sigh, heard a tired noise that changed into a yawn mid-way through and he half-wished she was home so he could put her to bed and tuck her in and take care of her the way Bianca didn't care to… yeah, she cared so fucking much… cared enough to play with Maggie like she was some toy and smiled the whole time like some saint she wasn't… "Just shaken up… freaked out a little bit so I'm gonna wait until Derek brings her bags and I see her safe at Joe's."

"Stop fighting me… I have to protect you and you're not making it easy… we have to go, we have to get away from here and away from him before he wakes up and realizes what we did…"

He kicked the denim away, turned and got the soap off the sink, ignoring the way his back looked and his eyes looked so empty right now… he wanted Maggie right now, desperately, and he swallowed silently, bending to turn on the hot water. "I can't believe that someone would go after Amy; I mean, she seems like such an amazing young woman and I can't believe anyone could hate her… maybe this guy was after someone else?"

"Erin… please…"

"All that matters is that she's safe now and later, after I wake up, I'm gonna help her get her stuff to her new place." A pause, a silence before she continued softly, "You sound like you're in pain… are you okay? Do you want me to come home, baby?"

"Don't disappoint me, Jonathon."

For long moments he watched the water pound the porcelain, watched steam rise and it was thankfully beginning to mist over his twisted reflection, making it easier for him to breathe in the rapidly warming bathroom… "No, you should be with Amy… she must have been terrified and she shouldn't have to be alone right now while she's getting over that."

"Are you sure, Jonathon? I mean, Amy would understand."

Maggie, too good and beautiful for someone like him but the thought of her leaving made his throat close and his insides ache and he swallowed again, a small shiver racing through him. And she was too good for Montgomery, who was lying with her big brown eyes and he could see some lie, see it with that terrifying dark hollow where something was missing… she was lying to Maggie and he knew it and he hated her for it…

And now he was lying too… "Maggie, you should be with Amy right now and be with someone who cares about you… I want you to stay with her. Besides, I'm not available to be there for you right now… something came up with Erin and she needed me to help her tomorrow so in the morning, I already have a flight planned."

"Oh…" She hesitated and he could feel hurt through the soft sigh she made… "You'll call me when you get to Nova Scotia, right? Check in, baby?"

"I swear, Maggie. As soon as the plane lands, I'll call you and share anything that comes up. I swear that you'll hear any news." He paused, hating how easily the lies came, how easily the lies always came and he wished he was inside her, forgetting the things that only she could help him forget. "I love you, Maggie."

"I love you, too." Words without meaning, words that meant nothing but sex between them when things got so painful and so hard and so raw that all they do was move together and forget what was too painful to let see the light of day… and it worked, it gave them both those few moments of that blessed absence of ache and hurt that they almost worshipped. And then he heard nothing but that damn dial tone and she was gone.

He stared at the shower for long moments, watched as steam billowed up in white waves, making him think of smoke and what smoke looked like against a starless night sky… he raised the phone, dialed in Erin's number and started making his plans, which hopefully would turn out better than his last ones.

Fingers ran through her hair, laced through dark tresses as fingertips ran across skin the slightest bit, nails the smallest bit sharp as she continued her slow play. "I'm so glad you let your hair grow out. Don't get me wrong, I liked it short you know but I'm not going to lie. This length is just perfect and it's just right for me to play with."

Bianca just smiled, didn't bother to respond because she didn't have to. Beneath her fingers, the fabric of Maggie's skirt was light and airy and she shifted her hand, sliding the material across a leg and enjoying the feel of heat through the softness.

"You look a little bit sleepy, Binks. When was the last time you slept?"

"Weeks… months… I don't remember…"

A hand trailed her neck, fluttered across her collarbone with a heat that made her insides melt and she shivered softly, resisting the urge to arch up into Maggie's touch like a feline, sate herself so easily under soft fingers and palms… "Why don't you let yourself sleep, huh? Let me take care of you?"

"I can't…"

"Why?" she asked and she kissed the spot her fingers had just touched, breaths of heat making her shiver excitedly again. "Why won't you let me do anything other than rub you neck?"

"Are you tired of this yet, Maggie?"

She reached out, turned her head to regard her with this sad sort of smile that made Bianca swallow painfully; fingers traced her cheeks and she wished she didn't look so sad… "I was always tired of this, Bianca. I just hid it well."

This was a dream and Bianca knew it. And she didn't care because this was all she had. Dreams of her and Maggie on picnics like this, stretched out together across a blanket. Dreams of Maggie and Miranda, her two favorite girls, sitting together and bonding and babbling about things that Maggie didn't understand but she didn't care and kept up their little conversation.

She turned her head back to Maggie's lap, closed her eyes again and refused to think of everything that hurt and focused on Maggie's sad fingers across her skin and through her hair… this was all that she had left and she savored this.