Angel Dust

A/N: Thanks for the supportive reviews. I promise, the surprising revelations aren't over yet.

The room fell silent. Eddie hung his head, unable to meet his friend's eye. "Did you know about this?" Dave demanded. When Eddie nodded, Dave threw his arms up in the air. "What the fuck," was all he could manage.

Trish sat her glass on the end table beside her and stood up, moving to the image on the platform as Courtney and John stood beside her car, hugging and smiling. "Ovarian cancer is not discerning. It doesn't really give a flying fuck if you're the twenty-six-year-old single mother of a three-year-old, living on welfare with no one to turn to for help.

"For ten years after I died, I watched my son bounce around the foster system, from home to abusive home, treated like a parasite or a disease," she explained, her voice devoid of any emotion as her eyes stayed fixed on his face. "You can't imagine how difficult it is to watch your only son get beaten because of something he had no control over."

Dave's face remained stoic. He had never been much of a "chick flick" guy, and he found himself growing agitated. All he wanted were some answers. Did that make him a selfish son of a bitch? Probably. But he felt too betrayed at the moment to care.

"When he was twelve, I was called into the Higher Power's chambers," she explained, crossing her arms. "I'm not here because I was such a great person, Dave," she admitted. "I tried my best to keep myself out of trouble, and I did what I could to help my fellow man. But I was no saint." Returning her eyes to the platform, she reached out and touched John's shoulder. "Sometimes it's not about who you are, but about who you leave behind," she whispered cryptically.

Eddie leaned forward on the couch, noting the confusion on Dave's face. "The Higher Power offered Trish a trade. She would become an angel, spend the rest of eternity listening to other people's problems and helping them through their grief. And in return, her son would have the life she had always wanted for him - wealth, opportunity, education."

"He had a hard time adjusting to that family - they were so different than what he was used to. They loved him, and they gave him everything, but he didn't really know how to take it," Trish went on to explain as John and Courtney left the restaurant arm-in-arm. "His first year at the Academy was so hard on him. He pulled some pretty low grades, and he started a couple of fights. He was close to getting kicked out," She smiled and reached toward the woman in the image beside her son. "And then he met Courtney Lane."

Turning slowly, Dave watched as John and Courtney laughed together, something stirring in his gut. "And she saved him from himself?" he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"She gave him a purpose. Junior year, sixteen years old, and the media followed her around like the plague. Her father had gotten a lot of attention for his opinions on gun control and immigration. There were a lot of people who wanted to dig up dirt on the senator, and I guess they thought the best way to do that would be through his daughter.

"John went into guard-dog mode. They were inseparable. At first, it was a friend thing, but then it evolved. And by junior prom, they were attached at the lips," she smiled slightly at the couple on her platform. "I had never seen my son that happy. Not since I was alive, anyway."

Dave sighed and sat on the couch. "So I get that you liked Courtney for making your son happy in high school." He thought for a moment, as though trying to process everything this woman knew about his wife - things he couldn't begin to pretend to know. "So you what? Just decided to use my passing as a way to hook them back up?"

She didn't deny it as she circled the platform, her eyes now meeting Dave's with no sign of fear. "John's a happy guy, Dave. He's successful, he's fulfilled, he doesn't complain. But he dates a lot of women who only want his money, or his fame, or his body. He's never met anyone else like Courtney. I've never seen anyone else make him that happy.

"So, when Eddie told me that you had arrived, I saw my opportunity. Courtney was single again. She could be with John," she stated simply, as though it made perfect sense.

But it didn't make sense. Not to Dave, who sat with a confounded expression on his face. "Why offer to help me?" he asked. "I mean, you could have just gone to Courtney yourself, right? Why try to help me exact my plan first?"

Trish laughed and shook her head. "Because your plan made mine that much easier," she said. "I mean, come on, Dave. Your plan, from the beginning, has been to force her into a relationship with a man she doesn't love, and push her back toward a life she doesn't want." She shrugged her arms. "All I had to do was wait until she'd had enough of your bull shit plan, and she was all but primed for mine."

They all looked toward the platform as Courtney wrapped her arms around John's waist and stared up into his eyes. "Maybe we should try it again," she said as she rested her head against his broad chest.

Standing from the couch, Dave slammed his fist into the wall without even cringing. "Motherfucking son of a bitch," he shouted. He had been outsmarted. This bitch had outsmarted him, outplayed him. She had underminded him. And he didn't take well to being defeated.

Seething and hissing, Dave paced the back of the room while Trish and Eddie kept their eyes trained on the image of the couple before them. When Courtney drove out of the frame, leaving them to watch a content-looking John, Dave finally smiled. "Looks like she's headed back to New York," he stated, feeling a slight twinge of victory in his gut. "Back to Randy."

"Or Nitro," Trish countered, raising her eyebrow. "Wait, no," Trish shook her head and bit her lip. "That's not going to happen."

Curiosity got the better of him. "What do you mean?"

With the raise of an eyebrow, Trish moved toward the kitchen and dropped her cup in the sink. It was as if revealing her plan had put a new spring in her step. Almost as though she was proud of herself for putting one over on Dave. "Let's just say that our boy Nitro will be exiting the picture shortly."

While he couldn't say he wasn't happy about that, Dave began to feel the walls closing in around him. He needed to think, to get away from her, to figure out his next move. "This isn't over," he warned as he headed into the hallway, slamming the door to shut out the sound of her laughter.

He was busy beating the wall when Eddie joined him in the hallway. "I'm sorry, Dave. I should have told you," he said, his voice heavily apologetic.

Turning, Dave rested against the wall. "What happens now?" he asked, though it felt like his brain was on autopilot, words coming out of his mouth without being processed through his brain first. "I mean, clearly Trish and I have conflicting agendas here."

"You both want what's best for your loved ones, Homes." Eddie reminded, leaning on the wall across from his old friend. "I don't know what happens now."

Running his hands over his head, Dave let out a deep breath. "Trish is an angel. I'm not," he stated sadly. "Her will is going to win out over mine, man. Courtney's going to end up with John."

At the sound of his prediction, Eddie shook his head. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, she's not really acting like an angel right now," he rolled his eyes. "In fact, if you ask me, you're both acting like stupid fools."

"I didn't ask," Dave reminded warily.

With sagging shoulders, Eddie pushed off the wall. "You say you want to make ammends for your mistakes, Dave," he reminded. "But how do you expect to do that when you keep making the same ones? You're not on crack anymore, but you're still as controlling a motherfucker as you ever were." Patting his shoulder, Eddie turned to walk away, stopping only to look over his shoulder one last time. "You wanna do what's right by your wife? You gotta let her go."