Conversations #5

A disjointed set of conversations that would've been fun/nice/endearing/helpful to see in the series…but we didn't.

Follows CANON only, generally references to conversations we never hear. Or in some cases, speculate about times prior to the attacks.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Just speculatin'.

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Several months before the attacks, in the Mayor's Office, Jericho, Kansas:

Eric looked at his father, wondering when the man had gone grey. It was nothing new, really, but how had that dark hair become so white? When had it happened? Much as he'd like to blame Jake, he simply couldn't. He was the one who'd gotten that familiar scowl to appear on his father's face. Not the first time he, the "good son" had earned it, either.

"I know it's been a while, Dad, I was just wondering about him," Eric said, wishing he hadn't brought up his errant younger brother after all.

"We all wonder about him, Eric, but there's no reason to begin this conversation when we all know that Jake won't come back until he's damned good and ready. I don't know what he's looking for, or why he had to take off, but I do know…" Johnston's words trailed off as he considered his next words. What he had been about to say, Eric didn't necessarily need to hear.

"Know what?" The prompt was polite, but insistent.

"I do know that when he does come back, he'll just bring more problems with him. What I don't know is if I'll be able to get him out of them." The grim voice was filled with days and months of making deals and reparations to injured parties, one of whom had been Jonah Prowse. That had left a bad taste in his mouth for weeks.

"Maybe he's changed, Dad." Eric couldn't help but defend his little brother. He could tear Jake down, but no one, not even their parents, could just skate on by without some sort of defense. Johnston's look was enough. Eric held up his hands and changed his phrasing. "I know he was a brat," he ignored his father's disbelieving snort, "and I know he was difficult." Again that look. He was beginning to understand what Jake had gone through so many nights when one or both of their parents had cornered him downstairs. "But it's been almost five years. Maybe he's learned something."

"And if he hasn't? What then?" Johnston couldn't believe Jake had really turned to the good, no matter how much the ever-hopeful father in him wanted to. The boy had been weak enough to get in to bed with Jonah, before or after he'd started up with Emily, Johnston never knew, but the end result was the same. Mitchell Cafferty had just gotten out of prison six months before, and it was early spring. Time enough, people enough, for trouble. All they needed to make it big trouble was Jake. "I've never understood that boy," Johnston mused, forgetting for a minute that his quiet son was listening. "Didn't know what drove him to be such a wild one."

"What about Grandad?" Eric asked, thinking of his recently deceased grandfather. "We all loved him, but nobody in his right mind could call him a saint." Maybe it was just in the blood.

Johnston gave a half-smile and nodded. "True enough. I don't think Dad ever did some of the incredibly stupid things Jake did, though."

"There's any number of things people don't tell, Dad," Eric said, hoping his brother would show up at least for a little while. Just a drop-by visit before going on to wherever he needed to be. "Usually for good reasons." Eric just couldn't stop defending him. If Jake showed up, it'd be different, but someone had to stick up for him when he couldn't do it himself. That's what big brothers were for. And, it was Jake. Who else would?

"Good point," Johnston murmured, considering some of the things he'd never mentioned to anyone, not even Gail. He could only hope Eric was right and he was wrong about the outcome of Jake's actions. It would be a first, but it would also be such a welcome mistake. "Well, none of this is going to change the fact that Jake's not here and we are, or that we have a pile of work to get through before tomorrow morning. Pass me that motion that Adams wants introduced at the next meeting."

Eric flipped through the papers and found the sheet his father needed. Deputy Mayor sounded impressive, but in truth, it was paperwork. He sorted it all, got it prepared for his father, and then passed it on.

Wherever Jake was, Eric hoped that he wasn't dealing with the paperwork. More, though, Eric hoped he was safe and well, out of trouble for a change. He'd never said it while Jake was there, but he loved his little brother, not matter how much it hurt.

Eric looked out the window on the darkening evening sky. He'd have to call April and tell her he would be late tonight.

*****

Same day, behind closed doors, somewhere in or near Washington, D.C.:

"Johnston Jacob Green, Jr., your after-action report shows some discrepancies," the man in the impressive uniform said. The other uniformed people were stern and cold, but nowhere near as impressive. Maybe it was the flash of stars on his shoulder-boards. Maybe it was the fact that Jake knew he was in it again.

Jake stood in front of the panel and hoped this wasn't as bad as he knew it would be.

"There shouldn't be, sir," he said. "If there are, I'd like to clear everything up."

"That's good," the man rumbled, "because you are looking at some serious trouble…"

Jake knew those words all too well. He closed his eyes. Once again, the voice of Johnston Green filled his ears, haunting him with those words, no matter another man was actually talking.

Would he ever be good enough to hear pride in that voice?

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