People find meaning and redemption in the most unusual human connections. - Khaled Hosseini

"Wow…" is the only word Teddy has been able to utter since Tommy spilled the truth about why Penny turned to drugs.

Tommy hadn't planned on telling Teddy everything when he called him to meet up at Mahoney's, he'd simply felt the need to defend his decision to come back to the hospital this morning and stay with Penny for a little while. Then once he got talking about it he found it was hard to stop, that he needed to share this horror with someone who remembered Penny as the good girl she used to be.

"You know that shit ass Jeff is back in Pittsburgh now, right? That probably explains why she's even more fucked up this time than usual."

"You're fuckin' kiddin' me," Tommy stammers into his mug. Everything that touched his lips tonight tasted sour and the beer was no exception. He sits the mug down heavily and pushes it away.

"Nah, I seen him bring his daughter in to the hospital one night. He remembered me, talked for a little while, shit, he even asked me if I had seen Penny around. Knowing what I do now, well that's pretty fucked up. I can't believe he never had any punishment, no kinda consequences for ruining that girl…"

"Well it's never too late to pay for your crimes," Tommy hisses, glaring across the bar at empty space. In his mind he's already beat that dirty fuckwad into a bleeding hunk of shit. And didn't he owe it to Penny? Didn't she deserve some kind of vengeance for having been abused and raped for so long? Maybe her parents really had been trying to protect her by sweeping the whole thing under the rug; but nothing could be said about some back alley vigilantism. How could any of it possibly be linked to Penny?

"I don't know what you're thinking about doing but it's not going to change the damage that's been done to her," Teddy says and then finishes his mug in one long drink. "All it's going to do is send you to jail. Is she worth it? I've seen her in action too, Tommy. She ain't the nice little peach she used ta be. She's a mean little hellcat with a hair trigger temper. I've seen her throw emesis pans full of puke at nurses; she grabbed a syringe from one night nurse and tried to stab her in the neck with it. She's changed and in the worst way."

"Wouldn't you have changed if you'd been treated the way she was. I'm no better than her parents," Tommy sighs, shaking his head, "I left her high and dry when I went to Washington. Penny was always there for me when Pops took his fists to me and ma or Brendan. She never asked me for shit but she was always there when I needed her. I left and I never called her, wrote her, nothing."

"Sounds to me like you had your own battles to fight. I don't think anyone could blame you for leaving or staying gone for as long as you did. You might not know this but we all knew what Paddy was like, what you and Brendan, even your ma, were going through. My dad worked with your pops down at the mill and I remember him coming home talking about that mean old drunk Conlon and how he almost lost a hand in the machine or almost hurt someone else because he was so fucked up he couldn't stand straight. I remember the bruises and the bloody noses. Everyone knew but not one of us stood up for you…"

"Wasn't your battle to fight buddy," is all Tommy can say as he stands to leave. He takes out his wallet to pay for the beer and Teddy holds up his hand.

"Nah bro, tonight's on me. It was good to get out of the house. I've been bored as hell since Kate left. All I do is work, come home, eat junk food and watch porn."

"Thanks for the TMI," Tommy chuckles and shoves his wallet back into his pocket. "I'll catch you at the hospital I'm sure. Imma head up there now; see if she's come around yet."

"You still got your old wresting head gear? You're probably gonna need it along with those killer reflexes, dude."

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As Tommy approaches the ER nurses' station he's relieved to see that Nora isn't there. Instead a girl who looks like a young Kate Winslet is sitting behind the desk working on charting. Tommy clears his throat to get her attention but she doesn't look up.

"'Scuse me, I'm here to see Penny in 107a, I'm her cousin Tommy…"

The nurse looks up and flashes a genuine smile at Tommy, once that looks sincerely friendly and not carnivorous in the slightest. It's a good smile and Tommy can't help but to smile back.

"Oh yeah, Nora told me about you Mr. Conlon. I'm Heather and I'll be taking care of her tonight. She's been awake since about three this afternoon according to the end of shift report I received. She's not in a great mood but she's also not combative. I was thinking about taking her restraints off here in a little bit. Do you think you'd be comfortable with that?" The accent is decidedly southern, the twang possibly Tennessee or Kentucky. It's absolutely fucking adorable.

Appreciating her concern and the way she sounds he smiles again, "I think that would be fine. I know she's been a terror before but it's been a while since we've seen each other and I hope ta be a good influence on her."

The silence is deafening and then a light goes off down at the opposite end of the hall from Penny's room.

"I'll need to go see about that down there then I'll be in to take her wrist restraints off."

"Thanks Heather," Tommy mutters as he turns to go.

"No problem at all…"

The room is quiet as he enters. Penny seems to be sleeping as he takes a seat near the foot of the bed. He watches the steady rise and fall of her chest as she dozes and soon it the room starts to dim as he slips into sleep.

Tommy knows he's drifted off but seems to be caught somewhere between completely asleep and awake. He panics in his mind, waiting for the usual nightmare involving Manny and his family but it doesn't come. Instead he sees himself as a teen in his old kitchen. His mom is at the sink doing dishes and Brendan is heading out the front door with Tess.

"Mom, why do you stay?" She doesn't answer him but instead keeps slowly washing and rinsing a never-ending stream of dirty dishes. "Mom," he says more insistently, "why do you stay?" Still nothing.

"MOM!" his younger self screams and grabs him mother by the arm, spinning her around. But it isn't his mother, it's his father and he's washing pictures of Tommy and Brendan. All the pictures are of them in various states of abuse; blackened eyes, bruised faces, arms in casts, on crutches. "I'm sorry Tommy," Paddy cries but it's his ma's voice that comes out of the old man's face. Then he's falling through the floor…

Tommy wakes up just as his ass hits the cold tile of the hospital room very hard. He struggles to get to his knees, relying on the chair to pull himself up. As he stands he hears that all too familiar giggle behind him and he knows she's awake.

"Tommy Conlon, what the hell you doin' in my hospital room?"

The laugh may be the same but the smile is a mere ghost of what it used to me. It doesn't come anywhere near her eyes. She looks like a shade of her former self. Like life had wrung out what had been the essential her and left a poor substitute in her place.

"Penny…" is all he can say as he sits on the edge of her bed and takes her right hand out of the padded restraint to hold it.

"Tommy," she counters, "seriously, what are you doing here?"

"I'm the one who found you more than half dead in Dales diner."

Shame colors her face and she almost seems like a living thing again as she turns her gaze away from him. "Sorry about that. I'm guessing I'd probably puked and shit all over myself too."

"There was some throw up. Penny, what are we going to do? You can't do this to yourself anymore," Tommy whispers as he absentmindedly runs his hand over hers. Her skin is clammy and he can see a sheen of sweat popping out on her forehead. She draws her legs up to her chest, obviously in pain.

"Fuuuuuuuucckkk," she moans, writhing under the sheets, "It hurts Tommy. I'm sick; I need to get out of here so I can feel better. I can't stand this!"

"Who was the guy you were with? The one who dumped you at the diner?"

"What? How the fuck should I know? Some guy who had what I needed so we did some trade. Get the nurse in here!"

"Trade?"

"Yeah I sucked his dick for some skag, what the FUCK is it to you?" First she smiles at him in a lewd and leering way and then a second later she screams as another wave of cramps seems to hit. She's crying now, the tears sliding down her face in torrents, her lids squeezed shut tightly.

Tommy looks down at the arm he's holding and it's black and blue, covered in scabs and sores. There is a lot of scarring in the places that must have been her favorite spots to shoot up. How could he not feel responsible for this? He knew the anger coming from her was because she was in withdrawal but he also felt like he deserved whatever she dished out. The guilt that he's feeling is unbearable.

"NURRRRRRRSSSSE!" she screams and jerks her arm away from Tommy, reaching with her free hand for the call button. But Heather is already at the door and she has a needle in her hand. Tommy grabs Penny's flailing arm and forces her wrist back into the restraint.

"Fuck you Tommy! Where were you when I needed you? When it could have mattered? YOU'RE TOO LATE! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

Her words, all too familiar to him, are like a punch in the gut. He staggers back from the bedside and into the chair, his hands fly to his face and he hides his eyes from the scene in front of him. He hears Penny cursing like a possessed person, spitting at Heather as she injects whatever she brought with her into the IV and then whimpering as the medicine takes effect. Tommy doesn't dare look until he hears her breathing slow and quiet. When he glances up Heather is still in the room charting. Tommy stares at his own shaking hands and does his best to will them to steady.

In all the years since he'd been on his own he'd fought in a war, saw some good men and the best man he ever knew die in a pointless war. He'd faced down literal monsters in the ring and in his head and none of those things had jarred him the way Penny just had.

"I wouldn't take it personally, Mr. Conlon, it's the junkie talking. They say and do things that you wouldn't believe when they're in pain. And she is in incredible pain." Heather speaks without missing a beat while jotting down notes in Penny's chart.

"Please, call me Tommy. I ain't old enough to be called Mister and don't plan on being civilized enough to earn that title anytime soon."

Heather smiles and snaps the chart shut. "Well, Tommy, I'm due to have a break here in ohhh…" she says looking at her watch, "about thirty minutes ago. Would you like to join me down in the cafeteria for a cup of coffee that's sure to either sterilize us or give us mutant superpowers?"

Without even thinking he nods, still feeling shell shocked and hurt. He's going to need the caffeine if he's planning on staying here for any length of time.

"Swell," she laughs, clipping the pen back onto her nametag, "I'll go let Sandy know and then I'll meet you at the elevator."

Heather turns on her heels and pads silently out of the room. Tommy looks at Penny; she's more peaceful now but there is still the look of torment on her face. He knows that look; he saw it many times on Paddy's face when the Jameson and his paycheck was gone and he was reduced to drinking mouthwash or his ma's cooking sherry. It was the look of someone suffocating or drowning in slow motion.

Tommy stands and shoves his hands into his pockets, looking at the wraith on the bed one more time before heading out the door. Hip deep in rattlesnakes, his ma used to say when she felt helpless. That's how he was feeling now.

Just as she'd said, Heather was waiting at the Elevator to take them down to the basement. It had always rattled Tommy that the cafeteria was so close to the morgue. You didn't have to pass it to get to the food line but you could see the little brown and white sign hanging from the ceiling to the right as you entered the cafeteria.

They ride the elevator in silence and as the doors slide open, Tommy gestures for Heather to exit first. She smiles and leads the way down the dimly lit corridor to the smell of coffee and microwaved food. This time of night only the vending machines were in service and he knew the coffee was going to be a mutated mess of something that might actually do what the nurse had promised. Digging in his pockets for change he sees Heather head to a small door to the side and knock three times rapidly.

"Hey papi!" she sings, reaching her hand out and taking a paper cup from someone Tommy can't see. "Could you give me one more? I brought a friend and he neeeeeeds your special brew, my man."

A few seconds later another cup is handed out the door to Heather and she leans in to kiss whoever is back there. She turns towards Tommy and winks, "You don't want that shit," she nods towards the machine behind him. "It's dog vomit. Now this," she says waving the cup under his nose before handing it to him, "is Papi's Café Cubano and it will put some hair on your chest fo sho."

"Thanks," he mutters as he sniffs deeply. The aroma was partly bitter, almost a chocolate smell but it made his mouth water. He realizes he hasn't eaten anything since early that morning and right on cue his stomach grumbles loudly. Heather sets her coffee on a small round table and heads back to the door. She doesn't even have to knock, the door opens and a plate with some sort of sandwich on it is passed out to her. She leans in again and kisses the giver and thanks him in that slow southern drawl.

Passing by the microwave she grabs a plastic knife and a handful of napkins. "And this, my hungry friend, is also called a Cubano, it's the Latin version of a grilled ham and cheese sandwich. This undeniably mouthwatering concoction is comprised of ham, roasted pork, Swiss cheese, pickles, mustard and some lovely Cuban bread."

"Well if I wasn't starving before, that description was enough ta sell me for sure. I think you missed your true calling as a Cuban sandwich spokeswoman," Tommy jokes as she cuts the sandwich in two and passes him the half on the plate.

"Oh make no mistake, since I moved here to Pittsburgh I have become a voracious foodie. Where I come from in East Tennessee there is a shortage of anything that isn't fried in lard or battered and THEN fried in lard. I've tasted different kinds of food from all over the world right here in our town. Love it!"

Heather takes a huge bite out of her sandwich and savors it, her eyes rolling back in her head. "I must warn you that I'm so not above taking that back from you if you don't put your germs on it immediately."

Her wit draws a laugh out of Tommy, the sound foreign and rusty. When had been the last time he really laughed? Probably before Manny died, Manny was always good for making him bust a gut.

Tommy pushes the thought of his fallen brother out of his head and bites into the sandwich. Mother of baby Jesus, she wasn't kidding, this shit was heaven.

"See? I told ya!"

They eat in a comfortable silence, each enjoying their half and sipping on the strong Cuban brew. It's as stout as it smells but Tommy finds he likes it much more than regular joe. As they finish, Heather grabs the mass of napkins and the plate, takes them to the can and chucks them in. He stands to thank her before leaving and she motions for him to sit.

"I have 22 more minutes of unpaid break time and they won't thank me for clocking back in early. Please sit and keep me company. I hate being this close to the morgue alone. And I wanted to talk to you about your girlfriend."

Tommy opens his mouth to protest but Heather cuts him off, "Well she might not be your girlfriend but you and I both know damn well she ain't your cousin."

"She's a childhood friend, I can't turn my back on her."

"I'm glad. She really doesn't have anyone else. Both of her parents are listed as deceased. I've had her several times before as a patient and not once has anyone been in to see her or to pick her up when she eventually signs herself out AMA. You don't know how many times I've tried to talk that girl into rehab, she's got one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel. She won't survive another round with this drug. I'm not a doctor but let me tell you, as a nurse, I see more than a doctor does, spend more time with these patients of mine than they ever will and I know when someone is knocking on the door to the afterlife."

Tommy is stunned by her little speech, he leans back in his chair and takes another sip of the coffee.

"If you care anything about her, you'll listen to what I have to say with an open mind."