Chapter 31

AN: Thanks to all my reviewers, as always, and a special thanks to xBrokenDreamerx for the great tip. Kat might have some fun with that one… ;)

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"We have to help them."

"We can't."

"But- but it's our fault this happened in the first place! We can't just abandon them!"

"Alyssa," Teresa snapped, rubbing her eyes, "drop it. There is nothing we can do. We just barely managed to get away ourselves. If the Garwin boy hadn't caused such a foggy ruckus, we'd have been seen."

"But-"

"Alyssa!" The younger woman fell silent, turning her face away. Teresa sighed. "I'm sorry, but we really can't risk it."

"I thought you weren't afraid of risks when it came to doing the right thing," Alyssa said pointedly. "If you won't help them, I will."

"You most certainly will not. I am High Priestess, and-"

"And I am still a Priestess of Sappho, with the right of speech and the right to oppose decisions I feel are made wrongly. I am not going to let these people die because we couldn't restrain our own, Mother!"

"Alyssa," Teresa said in a gentler tone, "I do not want to condemn these children, but think about it. What could we possibly do to help them without incriminating ourselves in the process?" The mocha-skinned woman shot her elder a sideways glance, her sharp chin at an angle.

"Break them out."

There was a moment of silence.

"Remember the part where I specifically said 'without incriminating ourselves'?" Alyssa shrugged.

"Secretly. Break them out secretly."

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"I want my phone call."

"Who are you going to call?" Reid sneered.

"Your mother. I want to explain why I won't make it tonight."

"Who are you gonna call, kid?"

"Ghostbusters." The cop shook his head tightly, visibly smoothing his face and taking a deep breath. Two hours. Two fucking hours of this, and three more before he could go home.

"Look, kid, work with me. I don't want to be here either."

"Yeah, but you're not the one in the hospital bed, pal. Now give me that phone, and let me make my goddamn call."

Sighing, the cop handed Reid the small portable phone, holding up his hands in exasperation when Reid eyed him pointedly and turning around.

"You've got five minutes, Garwin. I'll be right outside. Any funny business, and-"

"Save it, Mario. This ain't the mafia." He waited for the door to swing gently closed, waited a little longer for the click, and then brought the phone up to dial. Reid hesitated briefly, wondering if he was doing the right thing. Wasting his call. He was pretty sure it was pointless. Pretty sure, in fact, that it was beyond pointless. Actually, Reid decided, he might as well call the President to come bail him out.

But he found himself dialing anyway, his fingers going instinctively for the buttons that, had he been asked, he might not have been able to string together into a phone number.

She won't pick up. She never picks up.

But she'll hear the message. She listens to those, in case one of her boy toys calls.

She'll hear.

"You've reached the Garwin residence," his mother's voice said, a cheerful residual memory from a life that no longer existed for either of them. The message was ancient. She'd recorded it when they first bought the new machine, when Reid was no older than three or four. Reid took a deep breath as the automated feminine voice came on the line, telling him to please record his message after the beep, and to wait afterwards for further options if he wanted.

"Hey. Mom." He'd always felt weird calling her that, but it felt even weirder calling her by her actual name. "It's Reid." Duh. "I'm in some trouble. Real trouble." He sighed on the line, deep and tired. "Basically, some shit went down and someone died. Long story short, I've been- we've been- arrested. I'm at the hospital. I know you don't really… Look, I know you don't like me. And hey, it's mutual. But I need help. I need money. You've got it, Mom, I know you do. I need-"

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"-you to bail me out. I don't know what bail's set at, but you can find out. I have to get out of here before they find out what's really going on. God, I've never asked you for anything. You've never given me anything. So you damn well better do this for me, Mom. Just… Help me out, ok?"

She listened to the sound of breathing for a second, and then a muffled click as the phone was turned off. Silence. A beep as the message alert light began to blink.

There was another sound, a dull thud, as the bottle she'd been carrying from the kitchen slipped from her fingers and landed on the carpeted floor. Across the room, the mirror reflected a washed-out woman in short silk night-shorts and a lacy slip, her shiny blond hair falling like a waterfall down her back. Her face, shadowed with beauty and drawn with age, disappointment and discontent, held a curious expression of pinched confusion.

"Reid's in danger."

"Oh, please," she said aloud. "Ghosts." Her voice was a bit drifty, but not yet slurred.

"I never wanted him." She took another drink from the glass still in her left hand and shook her head. Picked up the phone.

"He left me! Selfish bastard had to go and die on me, and now what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do with the baby? I don't want to be saddled with a goddamn kid at my age! Tell me, damn it, someone tell me what I'm supposed to do with this!"

"Shut up," she snapped, throwing the phone at the wall. It hit with a sharp sound, clattering to the floor. A battery spilled out of the back.

"I've never asked you for anything. You've never given me anything."

"Goddamn kid," she muttered. "Wants money. Money!" An image of a tiny blond baby, crying. He always cried. In the night, when she was tired, so tired after- and the baby always cried. She just wanted him to shut up. Just… be quiet. Leave me alone. It was always something. Damn rebellious boy, always in some kind of… And then the girls, and the… And the thing, the thing underneath, the magic… She just wanted him to shut. Up. He kept… He brought it back, all of it, the before, from back then, and he looked like… like… and he wouldn't just go away, because he always seemed to come back.

She pounded a fist against the small table where the phone had been sitting, the corner of her clenched hand coming down on the answering machine. The 'play' button depressed, and with a light click Reid's voice came on again and filled the room.

"Hey. Mom." Mom. Mom. She never wanted to be someone's Mom. She never wanted it. Didn't want it. Didn't goddamn want- Another drink. The wine felt good sliding down her throat, an old friend soothing.

"I'm at the hospital. I know you don't really… Look, I know you don't like me."

"Damn straight," she snarled. "Damn… str… aw, hell," she finished sloppily as the last of her wine spilled down her chest.

"Just… Help me out, ok?"

Click.

"You have no idea who your son is… he saved my life tonight."

Veronica Garwin pressed a hand to her forehead, blinking hard.

"Shit." She set the wineglass down, and pulled on her long, mink housecoat.