SHOUTOUTS\ANSWERS
ArodLoverus2001: You'll find that all out later. Sorry this isn't soon enough.
Jayme: Thanks. So did I. Here's another chap, sorry it isn't soon enough.
DISCLAIMER
UC: undercover belongs to NBC. I only own Whitlow. I can't remember what the owner of the orphanage's name in "Once Upon a Time...In the Hood" was, but I think it was Mike. As far as I know, I made up the name of the bar. If it's an actual bar, I apologize. It was the only thing I could come up with. I got the freak out scene from "The Unsaid".
Two hours later, Alex called Jake's cell.
"This is Jake. Go," his voicemail said.
"Come on, Jake. Pick up. I've been callin' for two hours. Where are you?" Alex asked in frustration. Then, she hung up. She had been checking every bar in Chicago, but couldn't seem to find him. Come on, Jake. Where are you? she wondered. How come she couldn't find him? She had checked practically all of Jake's favorite hang outs. She was running out of options, fast. Making a quick decision, the woman turned her car around. Moments later, she arrived at the Chicago Orphanage for Boys. She walked in.
"Hello. May I help you?" a man asked.
"I'm Alex Cross. I'm a friend of Jake Shaw's. I thought he might be here," Alex replied.
"No. Haven't seen him," the man said.
"If you do, will you have him call me?" Alex requested.
"Sure," the man responded.
"Thank you," Alex said. Then, she turned around and headed for.
"Hey." The man's voice caused her to stop. "Why you lookin' for him?" he asked.
"He saw someone the other day and he seemed a little spooked," she answered.
"Who was he?" he asked.
"I
didn't recognize him, but Jake called him Whitlow," she
responded.
"Whitlow?" the man asked under his breath.
Then, a bit louder, "I'll have him call you."
"Thank you," she acknowledged as she showed herself out. Mike Damonte frowned thoughtfully. Whitlow? He's out? he thought to himself. Mike sighed inwardly. He had a pretty good idea where Jake was.
"Yo, Rog. Keep an eye on the boys for me!" Mike called.
"Sure thing, boss!" Roger called from another room. Mike grabbed his car keys and headed out the door. Then, he got into his car and drove off. Minutes later, he reached O'Flannigan's Bar. He parked and walked in. He searched the room until he found who he was looking for. The man walked up to the young man who was just finishing up a drink.
"Cut him off," Mike instructed. The bartender nodded and did as he was told.
"Jake, this isn't the way," Mike said as he sat down.
"What are you doin' here?" Jake wondered.
"Heard Whitlow's out. Figured you'd go to the bar with the strongest drinks," Mike responded. Jake just shrugged.
"Just tryin' to drown out the memories, Mike," he said.
"Jake, I realize this is hard for you---" Mike began.
"Don't try to shrink me, Mike!" Jake interrupted. "You don't know what it was like! You couldn't possibly know! I spent every night that I was there just praying that he'd leave us alone---leave me alone!" he continued.
"Jake, come on. Let's get out of here and talk about this," Mike suggested gently. He knew the ex-street kid could be somewhat unpredictable when he was drunk.
"Fine, whatever," Jake agreed. Whew. Thank goodness it's one of his docile moods, Mike thought in relief.
"I'll pick up his car later," the older man told the bartender. Then, he and Jake walked out to where Mike had parked his car. They got in and Mike drove them back to the orphanage, where Mike led them to his office. By this time, Jake's mood had considerably soured.
"Come on, Mike. I need a drink, man," he snapped.
"No, you need to sober up. And we need to talk," Mike responded.
"Talk? Talk about what?" Jake wondered.
"About Whitlow," Mike replied.
"What's there to talk about? Two kids are taken in, the home doesn't work out...no big deal," Jake shrugged.
"Except it left its mark on you," Mike noted.
"Hey! I told you not to shrink me, Mike!" Jake cried.
"Come on, Jake. Talk to me. Tell what you're feeling," Mike urged.
"Well, right now, I'm feelin' ticked off because you won't leave me alone!" Jake yelled.
"Jake, talk to me. Tell me how you felt," Mike requested.
"Tell you how I felt?" Jake repeated. "Tell you how I felt?" he asked again.
"Yes, Jake. How did you feel when Whitlow came into your room and abused you?" Mike asked.
"How did I feel! How did I feel?" Jake echoed.
"Yes! How did you feel?" Mike prompted. Jake jumped up and shoved various objects off the man's desk.
"Like that! It made me feel like that!" he screamed. "It made me feel sick! Like I was nothin'! Like I was just there to satisfy him!" Mike ran his hands through his hair. He had never seen Jake like this.
"You once told me there was someone else with you---a girl," the older man recalled.
"Chrissy. Her name was Chrissy," Jake said, instantly calming down. "She'd uh---she'd try to protect me, you know?" he continued.
"Protect you? How?" Mike asked.
"She'd sleep in front of me---push me out of the way," Jake answered, his voice breaking. "For---for awhile, it seemed to work. He'd take her instead. But then, I---I guess he got tired of her, 'cuz he'd go right through her straight to me. Man, I hated it," he continued. He began to cry.
"I tried to stop him, you know? But I---I couldn't," he insisted.
"Oh, Jake," the older man sighed. Jake fell to the floor crying, and Mike knelt down beside him and put his hands comfortingly on the ex-street kid's shoulders.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Okay, maybe Jake was too coherent for being drunk, but it just worked out this way.