DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel borrowed, no profits realized.
A/N: Continuing events of Asylum from Bling's point of view...
Offered in thanks to those who are still reading this story, to those who ask about other stories, and to those who take the time to comment, review, and otherwise chime in. Apologies to any of you who took my recent ramblings on DAR as criticism, etc. Oh, for time traveling abilities...
And, ever and always, all comments appreciated.
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Asylum:
Book II
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May 16, 2023
Bling came up to walk alongside the grey SUV as it pulled into his driveway. His wide smile split his handsome features as the window wound down and Logan's arm reached out toward him. As the men's palms clasped in a warm, firm grip, Logan spoke first. "Bling, man, it's great to see you"
"Even better to have you out here," the therapist grinned, his genuine pleasure at their arrival hiding his renewed concern that Logan still looked exhausted. He leaned over a bit to look in the window at the driver on the other side of the car. "Hey Max–"
"Bling; hey..." Max smiled for him.
Logan might look peaked, but Max was as vibrant as ever, Bling noted. He suspected she was as anxious as he was to have Logan get away from Seattle and Eyes Only for a break from it all, no matter how brief. "Pull on around to the back, Max, plenty of room to park back there."
With a welcoming squeeze of Logan's shoulder, Bling stepped away from the window, then followed the SUV back along the drive as Max pulled up by the back door. Both doors had swung open as he approached, and as Logan reached around to pull out his chair, Max hopped out and came around the vehicle for a warm hug from Bling. "Sure missed you guys," he said to her, softly.
"We missed you too." When their hug loosened a moment later, Max leaned back and smiled at him, meaningfully. In the space of their greeting, Logan had assembled his chair and was mid-transfer from the car when Sandra came out.
"You made it!" She called to them, her face shining with her beaming smile. Still arm in arm with Bling, Max turned toward her, and Bling saw the emotion rising in Sandra's eyes, no matter how hard she tried to hold it back. Coming over immediately to Max, Sandra opened her arms for a hug, and Bling saw the tears she'd promised she wouldn't shed spill over before ten seconds had passed.
His attention was drawn from the scene by a low chuckle, and he looked to see Logan, whose face, Bling was pleased to note, was already shifting from the tired, drawn look he'd seen at first into the more settled, gently amused expression he saw now. Logan caught Bling's eye. "So you've told her," he mused.
Bling offered a subtle, wry half-nod, but Max and Sandra pulled back from their hug, Max looking at Sandra, steadily. "Thank you," she acknowledged, summing up, in the two short words, their trip, the week ahead, and Sandra's efforts on their behalf.
"We're really glad you came," Sandra smiled to Max, the tears swimming in her eyes making them unnaturally bright. Turning to her other guest, she went over and, still blinking a little, gave him a big hug. "Logan – it's so good to see you..."
"Hey, Sandra." The hug returned by Logan was just as warm as hers was. "Thanks for getting us here." Logan's voice was soft, appreciative.
Bling felt that unsettled feeling he'd carried around for weeks now start to fade, seeing Logan with Sandra, seeing Max at his side, here to find out if Sandra could provide them a way to make the same move that he had. As the women pulled back from their hug, Bling looked at the visiting couple and offered the most relaxed, completely heartfelt smile he'd managed for a while now. "C'mon in, you two."
The women went ahead and as Bling held the door for his friend, Logan tipped his head toward the short wooden ramp secured to the side of the step for wheeled entry. "You were expecting company," he tried, not sure how to express his appreciation that, as always with Bling, none of those awkward little barriers to the chair would be left unaddressed.
Bling shrugged, understanding the man's thoughts. "Comes with the territory," he minimized. He followed Logan in through the kitchen, noting with a private chuckle that Logan's discomfort evaporated quickly as his former charge looked around the cozy, old-fashioned kitchen with interest, eying the copper clad saucepans on the overhead rack and smiling his approval at the herbs growing along the window, before moving into the wide living room to meet the women.
"Nice," Max was looking around the room appreciatively. She looked longingly at the big brick fireplace, and asked, "it works?"
Sandra nodded, "it does, but we haven't used it yet – it was already too warm for a fire when we moved in. But it will get lots of use," she grinned, siding over to Bling with a warm, hopeful look in her eye, "it can get really cold and snowy here in the winter."
With a smile to Sandra in return, Bling turned back to his guests. "You're sure you two wouldn't rather stay out here, with us? We have plenty of room..."
Logan nodded. "Thanks, but it might be better to stay in town, maybe not seem to be more than friendly acquaintances, you know, just in case. Besides, that way we can sniff out the place on our own, see what's going on without pulling either of you in too deeply here at first. We can establish ourselves a bit now, in the event that we're able to make the move here, too."
"But you'll stay for dinner, of course," Sandra announced, firmly, "and you must be famished by now. We can eat any time you're ready..."
"'Now' works for me," Max laughed, turning to Sandra. "What can I do to help? I'm not much of a cook but I can set the table and move stuff from pots into bowls."
She's good, Bling thought, Sandra would never see it, and maybe even Logan didn't notice, probably assuming it's Max's insatiable appetite that made her answer. But Bling had seen her several glances toward Logan since they'd arrived, watching for his reaction, evaluating his responses. Briefly he wondered if there was something more, if Logan had been ill, or had new crises added to his ever lengthening list, but from her behavior, it seemed to be just chronic 'looking after Logan.' He knew the condition well ... and Max is thinking he needs to unwind and catch up on some sleep, but that he won't do it until after they can visit for a while. So chatting over dinner will be just about right...
"It's all ready, Max; you can just relax," Sandra assured her.
"Then I'll keep you company and you can tell me about your school," Max offered, smoothly, "'cos I think the men want to talk 'sports' or some kind of manly-man talk like that."
Sandra glanced toward Bling as she, too, now started to recognize Max's protectiveness for Logan, and his smile settled in for them both. Already seems as if Max is determined to make this work, Bling mused. Wonder how Logan really feels about it? He watched the women move out to the kitchen before turning back to his friend, whose tired green eyes met his. "So you gonna tell me how things really are going out there these days?"
Logan wavered, as if thinking about offering some whitewashed version of life for the outed Eyes Only, but shrugged to admit, "we're here, aren't we?" At Bling's troubled look in response, Logan recanted a little to offer a wan smile. "About the same as when you left. Not too bad, all things considered."
"But not too good."
Logan nodded vaguely, his eyes softening, apparently focusing on matters many miles away. In only a moment, though, he drew a sudden, deep breath to bring his thoughts back to his host. "So we're here." He mustered a smile that actually had some genuine meaning behind it now, and said, wryly, "I missed having you around to kick my ass."
Bling's concern was lessened only by his hope that Logan seemed to be genuinely thinking of relocating there, in this new home Sandra had found for them. With a soft laugh he admitted, "Sandra is far less stubborn than you are. I miss having such an easy target." He paused a moment before pressing, as Logan would expect him to, "you getting in your work-outs alright?" At Logan's soft, grudgingly appreciative response that he was, Bling pressed, "ever get back to basketball?'
The question seemed to remind Logan of the many ways his life had changed with the outing of his alter ego, and there was a sad note in his response. "Once in a while. Corey's been able to put together a few last minute pick-up games, so word doesn't get out too far about where we'll be. The coach at his kids' school has let us use the gym, some evenings. But any place we used to play, especially at the outdoor courts..." he sighed, "someone notices. Corey said that with any game they play out on a public court, even now, eventually a few show up, apparently looking around to see if I'm there too. I guess they figure basketball playing guys in chairs are a small enough population that odds are good I might be one of them."
"I'm sorry, Logan." Bling had seen firsthand what happened when a game was interrupted by the press, or by those who thought that Eyes Only should lend them a hand, for whatever they thought they needed. It became frequent – and disruptive – enough that Logan just stopped playing for a time. Bling wondered if, deep down, among all the changes since Eyes Only had been discovered, that was the one that Logan hated the most. It was the one that cost him the most, for both his physical and mental well being, Bling thought to himself for the dozenth time. "I'd give anything to be able to tell you I had a team here ready and waiting for you," the therapist began, "but I'm afraid the town here is small enough that getting together all the chair users here who are in any condition to play even one quarter – and then I joined in, too – we could probably manage one on one. Probably," he repeated, making his point. He was heartened when he saw Logan's smile grow slowly as he finally laughed a little, shaking his head in surrender. "However," Bling went on, "the hospital where I work is in a place big enough to honestly be called a city. Small, but full of possibility. I've been putting out feelers. You get yourself out here, we can see about getting enough players together to get some real ball in. We're in the right place for basketball, man."
Logan nodded, his smile now faint but lingering, even so. After a moment of silence, he sighed, admitting, "I never thought it would end like this, Bling. I figured it would be another bullet ... or prison ... or a fast dash over the border to Canada with the Feds – or the underworld – or both – on my tail. Not with scandal rag attention and people camping out for a piece of the pie." Bling knew he was fighting to keep the bitter edge out of his voice, but he couldn't hide it completely.
Bling shrugged. "Even so – it's got to be better than the bullet or prison – even better than being run out of the country. You've got most of your personal assets intact; you've had time to put things in place to leave, and to think things through. And, you have a way to keep Eyes Only going, even if you're not called that anymore – or if you're not working through cable hacks." Bling looked long at the man before him, remembering the many weeks he'd spent working to convince him that Eyes Only hadn't been lost to Bruno Anselmo's bullet. "I know you pretty well by now, Logan – and I know if anyone can get things up and running again, from damn near anywhere – you can."
As Bling watched, Logan's eyes again dropped away, wrestling with the necessity of giving up his hope that his life in Seattle could be restored to what it had been, at least any time soon. Finally, he drew a deep breath and looked his friend square in the eye. "Bling, you've pulled me out of worse holes than this one. I don't know why now would be any different."
"We're ready if you are," Max called from the kitchen, as she moved toward the dining table with a steaming bowl in her hands.
The men looked at each other, her words an unwitting challenge to Logan as well. After a moment, facing his future – Logan snorted. Rolling his eyes and hanging his head for a moment, dramatically, he lifted it again to grin, relaxing, finally, into the inevitable. As Bling stood, Logan's eyes followed him and he spoke, softly. "I think maybe we are..."
Bling watched Logan as he went on toward the table, talking to the women as they brought the last dishes out to the table. Does he really see the possibilities? Bling wondered. Does he see how easily Max and Sandra work together? Can he imagine himself working here, writing or investigating the sorts of cases Eyes Only used to do?
Bling saw that Logan was relaxing a little more, slipping more back into himself as he came to the table, looking with interest at the dinner Sandra had prepared and asking about the herbs he'd seen growing on the window ledge. As the four sat down to dinner, Max and Logan described their trip to Indiana, their flight to Chicago and drive over from there, the careful switch of identities they made before renting the car that brought them and the game they'd made, both on the plane and in the car, of weaving little stories between them of their new identities. "Just in case," Max added, as if to reassure Sandra that things weren't in stone yet until they could all assess the results of their visit. "Wherever we end up, we'll need to have our identities locked in. So ... we filled in with those little stories about who we are"
Sandra nodded, thoughtfully, before asking carefully, "so ... who are you now?" She hadn't let the opportunity pass to ease into the topic, her curiosity clearly taking charge. She looked to Logan, then Max, and finally back to Logan, sensing that he took the lead in this.
"Robert Eastman, from Yakima, Washington." The former cyberjournalist smiled softly.
Bling turned to Sandra, filling her in while letting Max and Logan know that Sandra hadn't heard all that much yet about their preparations for the trip. "Logan's created false identities for a lot of people over the years, who were in danger because of helping Eyes Only get the word out ... or people who got on the wrong side of officials powerful enough to make the whistle-blowers disappear. To be on the safe side, he set up a few for himself, too, and for Max, in case they were in trouble themselves." He hoped she'd understand that the identities they'd assumed were carefully crafted and would take some doing to unravel.
Logan picked up the thought. "A couple I started a while back, so that the information was out in the system for at least a year or so. And the records are scattered around – universities, banks, credit card companies, medical facilities...all of them, with a normal amount of activity on accounts and files, so they'd appear to be the real thing, at least on first pass. Enough to get by most initial security sweeps."
Sandra blinked a little, the enormity seeming to sink in. Good, Bling thought. She gets it. Maybe she sees both the seriousness of all this, and how carefully Logan would have planned for this. And because it involves Max, he mused to himself, he would have been especially cautious...
But Sandra smiled, gamely, and, indicating herself and Bling, tried, "how well do we know Robert Eastman?"
Logan's expression shifted slightly, and Bling could now see his gratitude for Sandra's ready willingness to go with the plan. "I was on assignment close to Seattle a few years ago, and was in an accident – and ended up in the hospital there as Sam Carr's patient. On Sam's recommendation, I stayed on for rehab, on Bling's caseload. After that, we would run into each other, once in a while; not quite drinking buddies, but there's that connection you develop with a therapist..." The eyes had turned back to Bling's with a genuine appreciation, even beyond what 'Robert Eastman' might have felt, and Bling grinned in response. "And, after the hospital," Logan – 'Robert' – resumed, "I looked around for a while, but couldn't get any steady work. So, we hit the road," he smiled now toward Max, including her again, "telling ourselves we were just taking a break, seeing the country, and visiting an old friend along the way. But, something we haven't even really admitted to ourselves yet – we're really looking for a place to make a new start."
"What kind of job was so tough that I couldn't get you ready to return to work?" Bling challenged, almost sounding as if he was taking the news about this imaginary rehab failure personally. Keep it light, keep it moving forward ... you've come this far, Logan, you're doing great; no slipping back now... he coached, mentally.
Logan's smile curled upward, slowly. "TV cameraman. Care to tell me how I can carry a portable TV camera, film the action and move, all at once?"
Bling smirked, snorting a little for effect. "We could've come up with something..." He just might be coming to terms with all this, Bling was starting to believe. Once he was ready to entertain the idea, he's willing to go with it?
"Maybe I was just a stubborn patient."
"Maybe?" Bling's grin was back in full force now, as he felt himself start to relax a little more, too...
As he chuckled, 'Robert' continued, "so I have my disability checks to help support us, which we're told may stretch a bit further out here in the Midwest, away from the more expensive coast, closer to the areas where recovery is a bit further along." He paused to look back again at Max, his eyes and smile softening for her, Bling noted. Not here two hours and he already looks better, he mused, and I know that's not just my wishful thinking. Max sees it too...
"What about you, Max?" Sandra was saying. She must have seen the look from Logan as well, because she had waited a few seconds before asking, as if giving them that shared moment between them. But it was only a very few seconds; Bling knew that the curiosity she'd been nursing all week was not going to be held off that easily. "Who are you?"
"Linda Eastman," she smiled.
Sandra's eyes rounded a little and reacted, testing the idea on several levels, "you're married!"
Max smiled, almost self-consciously, Bling thought. Definitely happily. And as a new thought took root, Bling watched as she nodded, then turned to Logan with a laugh, "What is it now, 'honey,' three years?"
"Two years, eight months. You're not supposed to forget how long until at least two decades pass," he smirked.
But Bling's attention now was split between the "Eastmans" on one side, and Sandra on the other, as he saw a very slight trace of disappointment in her expression. She'd hoped it was a real marriage...
He realized he did too, but wasn't quite as ready as Sandra to give up hope. Clearly, they were now a couple, more intertwined than a ceremony or wedding band would ever make them. Bling prodded, turning to Max, "tell us about Linda."
"Well, she's from Los Angeles originally and made her way up north after high school ... she fit in an odd semester here and there around Sacramento, then in a community college in Salem, and kept heading north." Throughout, Max's tone had been light, engaged, as if she saw this as an adventure. Working to move her principle to a safe place is anything but a lark, Bling observed, and this principle happens to be the man she loves. But despite the seriousness of her task, Bling sensed that Max really was feeling some freedom at the thought of the move. You would too, he chastened himself, look how having him here made you relax. He focused again on Max's words. "After the Pulse, best job a college girl could get was waiting tables – you work at the right places, the tips can go pretty far, and usually there was a way to get your meals for free, so money could go to tuition," she explained.
Sandra lay down her fork, more interested in the story now than in her dinner. She's taking it all in, Bling saw. She'll know their history as well as they do. Another result of the Pulse, that a principal from a sheltered, middle class life is so adept at jumping into intrigue and deception? Bling felt a brief sadness that Sandra had to get sucked into a world in which he and the other two had been living these past years, even if she had only to be on guard that it might follow them here. But Sandra was nodding now, smiling in irony at the never-ending battle to keep tuition paid and the basics covered, even for an imaginary college student. "Where did you and Robert meet?"
"Coffee shop." Max grinned, glancing at Logan, and giving her answer as if she were taking an exam she knew she'd pass. "He bought."
"I wanted to say I was sent to cover a beauty contest and fell for the winner, but Max thought it would be too easy to check winners' lists." Logan teased, then softened a little, a shift in his expression noticeable to Bling's practiced eye. Guilt? His lingering worry that he was dragging Max away from friends and family? How could he still not see the look she had in her eyes for him, at least not enough to know he needn't worry?
"I don't think Linda's the type, anyway," Max offered, still looking at Logan as she responded to his words. She sees it and won't let him feel guilty for long. Good for you, Max...
Bling watched them both, trying not to appear to be watching as closely as he was, but when Logan's eyes lifted back to his, he saw understanding dawn, followed by Logan's rueful chuckle, "Old habits die hard?" He glanced, slightly self-conscious, toward the women to explain, "Bling's trying really hard not to show he's still a mother hen..."
But it was Sandra who broke the tension. Sliding her hand over to cover Bling's, she chuckled toward him, "well then, you might as well give that up, baby, because we all have your number on that one." Glancing at the grins from their guests, Sandra looked back to the therapist and promised, "it's probably what we all love most about you, that big ol' heart you have in there under all those muscles."
And just how is a man supposed to respond to that? he wondered, feeling a rare, but pleased, embarrassment working to color his cheeks...
"...so with the mother hen having his chicks here to keep a closer eye on them..." Sandra raised her wineglass in a late, but still heartfelt salute to their guests, "we are both delighted and relieved to have you out here, with us now. And we want more than anything to have you stay..."
Bling raised his glass as they others did, and all four glasses clinked in soft, ringing tones, sealing the couple's future. "Hear, hear..." he added, softly...
TBC...
