I changed the dates in the story and therefor those of the show (not the year) because it was easier for me to work like that. So, here is the dates I choose for all the major events:
-Kayla's birthday = 4th May 1984
-Brian's birthday = 23th June 1971
-Kayla's kidnapping = 23th June 1989
-Gus birthday = 18th November 2000 (he's not born yet and he will be a little in advance 1month)
Chapter 1: Wings of an Angel
Brian's POV
I was wondering if I would ever get past the state of pure agony I found myself in each 23th June. Sometimes I caught me wishing having never met her... And then the guiltiness, the anger, the pain all come together at once and in such force that I usually can't even look myself in a mirror for the rest of the week without feeling disgusted with myself. *She is the best damn thing that had happened to me in all my fucking life! If it wasn't for her I would have died back then: wether it would have been me who killed myself or old Jack who would have had the best of me when I was a teenager...* That's why I never celebrate my birthday... Would you like to celebrate yours if it was also the day the most painful you ever lived?
My phone rings, startling me, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Kinney." I say.
"Brian? Where are you? Everybody is waiting for you to begin dinner!"
*Fuck! I forgot they prepared me a fucking birthday party... 29 years old. What a beautiful day to celebrate, don't you think?*
"I'm on the road, Mickey, something came up!"
"Yeah! I can see what kind of things!" Mickey snaps.
"Not that kind Mickey! I'm coming right up, ok?" I bark and hung up.
I feel emotionnally drained already and I have to go through Deb's dinner... Sometimes I wish I'd be able to sleep for as long as I want and wake up when all the shit as passed. When the only things left are the good ones. But, hey, this is life we're talking about! There's never any rest for long... Today, I'm good so tomorrow will be hell: that's how it works. True, I couldn't imagine a world where everybody would be happy... It would be kinda creepy! But still, at least, it would give me a little time of peace... A rest from all this heartache that never leave me completely alone. I suppose it is the only thing still able to spare me the feeling of loneliness. Yeah, sometimes I cling to that little piece of pain in the background of my mind to be sure I'm not alone, I hold on the memories to be sure I'm not crazy when I think I saw her across the street looking right back at me and, just like in the movies, when a car pass she just disappear. But it's more and more difficult each year to remember her. I'll never forget her eyes of course: we have exactly the same colour; and probably not the colour of her hair either; she looked just like me for that, at a point where you could think she was my daughter not my little sister. But what about her voice? Her smile? Her giggles? How she use to talk to me when I had just receive a beating by the old man, when I was scared or sad?
I think that it's the thing that terrify me the most...because even if it hurts to remember those things at least I'm sure she was really there, she was everything I needed and more and I had manage to protect her correctly for 5years. The most wonderful 5years of my life. Even if it was under Jack's roof! And that's a lot to say considering the uncaring bitch that Joan is and the abusive prick that is Jack: they didn't even cry for her, nor moved a finger to retrieve her. That was at that moment that I simply lost it... I enter in a phase of complete and utter rage. It was like I was blaming everyone and anyone the fact that I had lost Kayla. And that they didn't found her. In fact, that's after this episode that I build the walls around me. It was way too painful to let anybody near me again. There was a piece of myself which was missing. Which is missing. Deb saw it. Vic saw it. Damn, even Michael saw it. Now, they are too use to it to see that it is still there, no, still missing.
And here I am. Deb's door. I was so lost in my thoughts I came here inconsciously.
"You're late, asshole!" Debbie shouts when I open the door.
"Well, hello to you too Deb!" I smirk.
"What's the matter with you kiddo? You look like shit!" she asks, worried.
"Gee, thanks Deb! You always say the most wonderful things to me!"
"That's true Brian... You don't seem real good. Maybe you should go see a doctor or something." Lindsay, always the mother hen, with her 4-months-pregnant-belly;
"I'm fine!" I growl a little more loudly than intended.
"Hey, listen asshole! We're here to wish you a happy birthday, we made the effort to come so act polite at least" Melanie hisses at me.
"I didn't ask for anything and if it bothered you to come you just had to stay home! And don't tell me what to do and not to do!" I yell. I was on edge all week and today is not the day to attack me, seriously. *Fuck! I need a cigarette!*
"Oh there, we calm down and eat! It's gonna be cold." Debbie says.
"Whose the fault?" Melanie grumbles and I lost it.
I grab my jacket and literrally fly from the room toward the entrance door. Once there, my hand on the doorknow, I turn just slightly to Deb and whispers "Thanks" and then I left without a second thought. Without a backward glance, I enter the jeep and speed toward the only place that ever make me feel a tiny bit better: the cemetery.
20 minutes later.
I'm sitting in front of the grave that Joan had make made 7years ago when Kayla's case had been classed. After only three fucking years. Another cold case like so many others. Not for me of course. Everytime I come here, I feel... First, worst because my hopes flies from me as soon as I see her name on the cold stone. As soon as I sit in front of it, it's like I die a little more inside. And then, strangely, I feel better because it's like she's not completely gone. You know, because I know she's not really in there, six feet under. It's ironic in a sense: I can talk for hours to a grave but I don't utter more than a few words to my friends. My family.
Kayla Kinney
1983 - 1993
Beloved daughter and sister
*Beloved daughter... Fucking hypocrites! I was the only one who truly loved her* I almost choked on my own thoughts.
"I knew you'd be there." a familiar voice whispers behind me.
"I'm always here... Even when not physically here, my deepest thoughts keep her company. She keeps me company. Never left me alone in 17years."
"I know... I see it in your eyes. I see it all the time but especially today, each year."
"I should have keep her in my line of sight! I was so preoccupied to get the fuck out of there, I just turned 18, I let her all alone in the garden. I was a bad brother!"
"No! Of course not! You were a goddamn good brother!"
"So, Vic... Tell me WHY she's there?" I scream.
"I don't know... I honestly don't know the exact reason of this tragedy but I do know that it's certainly not your fault!"
"I should have keep her in my line of sight... I should have run faster..." I whispers.
"You couldn't have run faster... The whole street saw you run after the van this day; Debbie, Michael and me included. You couldn't have run faster!"
"I saw her crying and kicking. I heard her screaming my name..." I'm sobbing.
"You couldn't have done anything..." Vic whispers, soothing, a comforting hand on my shoulder.
"I need a little time alone, please."
"Sure thing. If you need to talk about it, just call me, I'll be there." he smiles softly before going back to his car.
I watch him leave before returning to Kayla.
"Hey, baby girl..."
While I speak to her, a tought struck me... She would have been 16 the last 4th May.
I talked to her like that for 2 and a half hours before going back to the jeep, and driving to the loft where I spent a restless night.
Until, I hear my cell phone rings.
"Kinney?"
"Mr. Kinney, I'm Carl Horvath, I'm a detective from the PA."
A detective? From the Pittsburgh Police's offices?
"Yeah - erh - what happened?"
"We wanted you to know that your little sister's case has been reopened because of new clues and a witness arriving recently... We'd like you to come here as soon as possible, please."
Wait... Reopened? A witness? New clues? WHAT?