AN: Here's chapter 19. Sorry that it's a bit short, but with all the homework it seems like all of my teachers are making up for lost time, Fridays chapter will be longer.

***Waylon***

A pop that must have been Miles's jaw bone rang out, along with a grunt of pain.

"The hell are you doing here you crusty son of a bitch?"

Before miles had a chance to respond a Tim was looking up at me and seemed ready to throw another punch.

"And who the hell would you be?"

I was suddenly jolted from my post nap haze and wide awake "I-, um.. I'm-"

"Shit Tim," Miles was standing back up with a hand feeling of his jaw "nice to see you too"

"I told you not to come back here you nosey bastard."

"I'm good, thanks for asking. Can I come inside? I really need a change in cloths. How's the wife and kids?"

Did Miles want to get the living hell beat out of him? Tim looked like he was considering a full wrestling match there and then. Also, he had to have noticed the fact that we were in hospital gowns and partially covered in blood, shouldn't that trump any kind of feud they might have between each other?

"You owe me a favor besides,"

"I don't owe you a damn thing" the way he was talking I was inclined to believe Tim

"That odd, if I seem to remember correctly I kept you out of jail, and got rid of that guy who was stalking Melony"

"Then you turned around and cost me my job, nearly the house too."

"Nearly. Besides, you had a pretty shit job you weren't losing much"

Ok, I had to say something now, before Miles made a complete ass of himself "Miles-"

"Shut up!" both brothers silenced me before I got a second word out.

"Don't suppose throwing a couple of shirts at you would be enough to make you leave."

"That's all I'm asking for" Miles told him with a grin.

Tim grumbled a reply and shut the door behind him as he disappeared back into the house.

The awkward silence didn't last long before Miles broke it "go ahead and ask it"

"Ask what?"

"I know you're wondering what the hell all of that was about."

I was "You're going to have to be more specific."

"About?"

"I'm wondering what you did that pissed him off so much, and why he wasn't the least bit worried that you showed up with a complete stranger and covered in blood at his front door. Also, why be so combative? That wasn't called for. Oh, and why did I need to be awake for this?"

Not having to be witness to this would have done wonders for my psyche. For all I knew he could be wanting to get into a fight with Tim, they obviously have some issues to work out, what if the Walrider was in there making Miles act on them. Or, what if they were both thinking it. Or what if I'm just over thinking everything and nothing's wrong?

Miles seemed stunned by what I said only to reply with "Tim lost his job, which is kind of on me, but like I said, it was a shit job, and not always legal. He doesn't ask questions, and that's what we need right now."

"Someone who doesn't ask questions?" I had an edge to my words

"Yes" he narrowed his eyes for a second "what's that supposed to mean?"

Before I said anything the front door opened revealing Tim, who was holding a cell phone and looking none too happy.

"I just got a phone call from Theresa, a man saying he was from the CDC was just at her work and was looking for you and some guy named Waylon. Why?"

"Oh, reasons. So, those cloths..."

"Get in the house. Tell me whats going on."

To my surprise Miles went inside, I'll be it after taking a while to think about it. I followed him in.

The living room was in a state of disarray, with a few childrens toys laying around, along with a towel and hair drier that were thrown haphazardly across an entable. The couch cushions buckled and were jumbled out of place; the couch itself had faded from what was probably a nice cream to the same shade as the graying carpet. Pictures hung on the walls and a poorly cared for vase adorned the coffee table that was home to a stack of newspapers, a knitting project, a half colored art project, and a score of remotes in an effort to pretty up the place. To the left were stairs and to the right I could see into a kitchen that looked like it was in a similar state.

Seeing evidence of kids that would be about the same age as mine forced me to push down a tide of bile. I could only imagine what was happening to them, the horrors, I had to find them. Had to help them, save them.

"...and that's why I'm pretty sure he isn't really with the CDC." Miles concluded his story that I hadn't been listening to.

"That doesn't explain the hospital gowns, or the blood." Tim was stone faced.

"We broke out of a hospital" Miles replied nonchalantly.

"Why?"

"That's an even longer story that I don't think you want to know. Either way, if anyone asks, we were never here and you haven't spoken to me since last thanksgiving."

"Why would I be doing you a favor?"

"Because I'm your favorite brother?" Miles gave a smile and a chuckle that would have made most people laugh along and go with whatever he said, but Tim was having none of it.

Seeing the non response Miles tried again "Because if you do talk to the guy nothing good will come out of it."

"Sounds a lot like talking to you" seems to me like sarcasm is a family trait.

"I'm serious about this one Tim. I wasn't going to talk to you at all, but I ended up with no other choices."

"Good knowing I'm your last resort" the sarcasm had evaporated, leaving only a harsh tone.

"If I came running over here for every little thing you know you'de get pissed off at me sooner or later" Miles fired back.

"I'm pretty pissed off now. You show up at my house in the middle of the day, covered in god knows what doing damned-if-I-know asking for me to do a favor."

"It's not like you don't owe me"

"Ya, I suppose I do, but I'm not going to put up with your bullshit."

"Why? I've dealt with yours for years"

"What do you mean by that?" Tim was standing up a bit straighter than before, this was going to end in blows, I knew it.

"I mean, ever since dad died you've been an ass to everyone"

"Oh hell no, we're not having this conversation again."

"Why not? Is it because it's true?"

"I just don't have to explain myself to you."

"Right, I suppose you don't have to explain yourself to your wife or kids either"

"Get out of my house" Tim didn't move to open the door nor did Miles move to leave.

"We both know that Theresa and Melony noticed your sudden drinking habit four years ago, little Jim probably isn't even old enough to remember a time you weren't a crotchety bastard"

"What I do in my own house is none of your damn business. Now leave!" Tim nearly shouted the last words

"Without reminding you about the time you took a swing at Thereasa when you were drunk?"

"Fucker, I never told you about that"

Wait. Never told miles. Does that mean the Walrider's the one who's talking? Can it read minds? But there was no voice change. There usually was, but what if it was different now, after yesterday?

I found that I was slowly backing away from the two and that my breath was coming out ragged.

The two went on fighting.

"There are lots of things you don't tell me about, like that one night on the highway when you had a head on with a minivan. You killed the driver, but the truck still ran and you were drunk, so you drove away and never told anyone."

Tims face went from an angry flushed red to near white.

"Take the damn clothes and leave."

"But we have so much to talk about" he sounded amiable, more like he was catching up with an old friend than terrifying his estranged half brother.

I had to believe that this was at least partially the Walriders fault, Miles was a chatter box, harshly sarcastic, and maybe even a bit blunt, but I had never seen him play manipulative mind games.

But then again I hardly knew him.

Tim had taken no time in throwing a wad of cloths at Miles, which he caught without looking at them.

"I don't call the CDC or whoever if you never talk about that, we're even. Now leave." there was an uneasy quiver in Tims voice.

He didn't need to tell me twice, I opened the door and hurried outside, not bothering to look behind me until I was already sitting in the drivers seat of the car.

Miles wasn't right behind me, he wasn't anywhere in sight. The front door hung open, though I could see neither of the two men. There behind the wheel I realized how easy it would be to just drive away and not turn around. To just be rid of the stress that came with second guessing Miles's state of mind.

I nearly turned the car on.

But then I couldn't stop myself from remembering that this was all my fault. If I had just gone public with my information, or even just kept my mouth shut and quit then none of this would have happened. I would be home, Miles wouldn't be possessed, my boys would be safe. Lisa would be alive...

Lisa.

Dear god, what have I done.

The passenger door clicking open jolted me from my thoughts. Miles slumped down into the passenger seat, dumping a bundle of clothes onto the dashboard in the process. I scooped them up and tossed them to the back seat.

"Where are we going now?" I asked him.

"Somewhere we can change into normal clothes, then to visit a contact of mine."

Oh christ, not another one. I couldn't suppress a sigh "and where would this one be?"

"She lives in Salt Lake"

"Does she have an address?" my reluctant response wasn't lost on him, but he didn't say anything.

"...probably, but I don't know it"

Of course he didn't. Without another word I shifted the car into drive. I had no idea where we were, but found a high way regardless. Following the road signs I went north to Salt lake.

I had trouble believing it, but deep in my gut I knew that things were about to get much worse.