"Jack, I need your help."
Caught off guard, Jack froze, his head cocked at an awkward angle. "I'll ask you again. Are you in some kind of trouble?"
"Well, I see some impressions never change," Jonathan noted sourly. Jack merely raised his eyebrows at him. "Sorry," Jonathan apologized. "It's nothing like that. I just need some information."
"What kind of information?"
"I need to find out who owns this property." He unfolded a piece of paper and laid it down on the desk.
Jack studied the address. It was vaguely familiar, but locked in the recesses of his mind, unwilling to make itself known. He returned his attention to Jonathan. "Once you find out who owns it - then what?"
Jonathan leaned hard on the desk, his face parallel to Jackson's. "I want to make an offer to buy them out - a business acquisition of sorts."
"Are you planning on moving? Investing?"
Jonathan glanced sideways at him. "You could say it's along the lines of an investment in my future." He was purposefully being evasive, a trick not lost on Jack.
Jack deliberated on whether to fulfill Jonathan's request or not. Eventually, he decided, Jonathan would find out no matter what so best for him to go through the proper legal channels, at least. Jack typed in a few commands, but the computer stubbornly refused to comply. He re-attempted, but that only ended in him slamming the keyboard down, chipping a sliver of oak off the top of the desk.
Jonathan shifted the keyboard closer. "Here let me. Do you mind?"
Jack sat back, flabbergasted at the ease which Jonathan navigated the sites and pulled up the information he was looking for. "I don't believe it! Even in death his name is still on the deed. You'd think the bank would've foreclosed on it or it would have been condemned or something."
"Jonathan, what are you talking about?"
"Just some old business that needs to be taken care of." Jonathan cleared his throat, fearing he had revealed too much. Jack's face remained impassive, but his eyes sharpened slightly, sizing him up.
Jonathan turned back to the computer screen, blocking it from Jack's full view. He pressed the print icon and exited out of the program, turning as if searching for something.
"The printer's over there," Jack pointed out absently. In his head, he was reworking the riddles that Jonathan had brought onto his doorstep. He swivelled in his chair intending to make one more appeal to his former son-in-law, but something stopped him cold.
Jack sniffed and caught a familiar scent. He grabbed Jonathan by the wrist that was reaching to pull the information off the printer, and lifted Jonathan's hand up under his nose. His heart leapt into his throat as he placed the aroma. "Is that gasoline I'm smelling?"
The stricken look was brief, but unmistakable. Jonathan quickly regained his composure. "Yeah. Yeah, it is. I got gas around the corner before I stopped here."
Jack eyed him warily, not quite believing him, but not having anything to directly accuse him of. Jonathan's demeanor had downshifted from agitated to skittish, the unrest given away only by the shifting of his eyes. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Jonathan?"
"No, thank you, Jack. This helps a lot." He tapped the tube of paper against his palm for emphasis.
"Can I give you a piece of advice - as your friend, not your lawyer?" Jonathan's silence connotated his acquiescence. "Don't do anything rash. You're not that person anymore. In fact, you never really were that person."
"Because of the tumor?" His tone was bordering on mockery. "No matter what the reason, I did a lot of bad things. And I can never take them back. Those things-"
"Those things came from a darkness you didn't create." Jack moved a step closer to Jonathan as he spoke. "Remember when I told you I wouldn't let you go back to that dark place again?"
"How can you go back to a place you've never left?"
The question was so innocent and honest that it momentarily took him by surprise. Jack looked at the lost and vulnerable little boy, hidden superficially behind the man. As Jonathan's eyes shone, Jack felt the moisture dampen his own.
He took another step. "Yes, you've done horrible things, but you've done some amazing things, too. You seem to forget that. It took a lot of courage to come back and do what you did. I admire that." Jonathan's eyes widened slightly, but Jack pushed on taking yet another step. "You saved a lot of lives, including my daughter's. I can never repay you for that.
"And in saving Lily, I finally saw what a good man you were. And you are, Jonathan. You have to know that."
As Jack advanced towards him, he inched closer to the door, shaking his head the whole time to negate those statements.
Jonathan's back was pressed up against the door. He looked like a cornered animal, and Jack realized that probably wasn't far from how he felt. He backed off a bit, but maintained the thread of the conversation. "Can I tell you something else before you go?" Jonathan's hand dropped from the doorknob, implicitly telling him to go ahead. "I'm going to tell you something your father never did, but something he should have. You're a good man, Jonathan. I'm so proud of you."
His eyes widened once again in disbelief. The mouth was working, searching for the words, but nothing would come out but a staccato, "I have to go."
Jack tried to close the distance between them one final time, but Jonathan blew out the door without another word. He had disappeared around the corner before Jack even got through the doorway. There was no use chasing him.
He leaned his head against the door. Perhaps he had said too much. But he knew the signs, and Jonathan was headed down a very dark road. He hoped he had given him at least a few bread crumbs to help him find his way back.
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Jonathan had given the hotel clerk cash and a pseudonym. He picked a nondescript place somewhere in Ohio to hole up. Even though Jack didn't exactly know what he was planning to do, he wasn't oblivious that something was amiss. Subtly had never been his forte. So Jonathan thought it best to just lie low for a couple of days.
The few meager belongings he had brought along with him sat by the door, the same place they'd been the day before when he'd first checked in. He hadn't bothered to change, stretching out on the bed and oscillating between channel surfing and dozing.
He grew comfortable in his invisibility. Leaving town had brought a fresh perspective, leaving him questioning his decision. I should have disappeared months ago, he thought. But lingering in a self-imposed purgatory was not the answer, either. The skeletons that had rattled against the closet door all these years would not be silenced this time. The time had long since passed for them not only to show themselves, but be incinerated.
The book caught his eye, the tattered and frayed edge sticking out of the side pouch of the backpack. The golden leaflets had long ago lost their luster, but still reflected the light nevertheless. Jonathan mustered his courage and reached out to pluck it out, but the chirruping of his cell phone caused him to draw his hand back as if it had been slapped.
The LCD screen lit up with each ring. Ryan's home number flashed up at him accusingly. He almost didn't answer it, but by ignoring it, he would only draw unwanted attention to himself. "Hi, Ryan."
"Hockett!" There was silence punctuated by light breaths coming over the line as Ryan searched for the right words. "I haven't seen you in a couple of days. Are you doing okay?"
Jonathan's shoulders dropped and he stifled the sigh that wanted to escape. His brother was checking up on him once again. "It's barely been over twenty-four hours." He tried to keep his tone neutral to prevent Ryan's 'big brother' alarm from kicking into overdrive.
"Did you forget about the meeting we had this morning?"
That's why he was calling. Jonathan groaned inwardly. "Shit. Yeah. I totally spaced, man. I'm sorry."
"It's okay-"
"Ryan, I'm really sorry. Okay?"
"It's okay, Hockett. I took care of it. Pretty well, I might add. But are you sure you're okay? It's not like you to flake out on me like that."
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just wanted to get away for a few days...clear my head. I should have said something." It wasn't exactly a lie, but what Ryan didn't know right now wouldn't hurt him.
"That's actually a great idea." The relief was evident in his voice. "Take your time. Relax. Enjoy yourself. Just call me when you get back, okay?"
"Okay."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"Take care of yourself."
"I will. You, too."
Jonathan clicked his cell phone shut and tapped it absently on his lips before tossing it on the bed. There was no stalling any longer. He held the diary in his hands reverently for a moment before opening it somewhere in the middle. Although it spanned a number of years, chronological order was unimportant. He scanned the first page he opened to:
Sometimes I hate Ryan - even more than daddy. God help me it's true. I know he's never coming back, but I could never tell Jonathan that. It's sometimes the only thing he has to hold onto. That false hope gets him through the tougher times - thinking he's going to rescued. But I know it's not true, and deep down I think Jonathan knows it, too. His eyes light up with hope after a beating, wishing for our brother to come back, wishing it was the last time. But it's not. I feel it. And when the light goes out of his eyes, I know deep down Jonathan feels it, too. Hope is the thing with feathers according to Emily Dickinson. It's what sustains us, but it could very well be what destroys Jonathan.
Jonathan could read no more. His sister knew him better than anyone, and she was gone. He could only face the truth, could only feel the pain, in small doses, or he would fall apart completely. The rest would keep. It had kept this long, and he would not let himself be deterred from his ultimate mission.
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Annie slipped her arms around Ryan's waist. "C'mon. It will do you some good. You deserve to relax."
The couple stood outside the doors of Fusion. Ryan had reluctantly agreed to come, but now that they were here he was even less sure that he wanted to go in. "I don't know, you know?"
"You've had a rough week. And I know you're worried, but you need to have some down time," Annie gently persuaded.
"It's just not like Jonathan to go off like that without a word to me. Especially for this long."
"Jonathan's an adult. It's only been a week or so. He doesn't have to tell his big brother every move he makes, does he?"
Annie was still in the dark as to every detail that had happened while on her excursion with Emma. Ryan planned to keep it that way. "No, he doesn't. But he's very reliable and for him to skip out on a meeting like that..."
"Everyone's entitled to a mistake now and then. Even you, my perfect husband." She kissed him squarely on the lips to offset the biting words. "I worry for him, too. I love him as much as you do, but if Jonathan feels like he needs some distance to gain a little perspective, who are we to argue?"
"So in other words, don't call him, let him call me."
"Exactly!"
"Did I ever mention that you are a hard woman to argue with?"
"And don't you forget it," she teased. "You're married now. You don't get to win the fights anymore."
"I'm pretty sure that wasn't in the vows." His words were drowned out when she opened to door. The pulse beat of the music and the fluorescent lights assaulted his senses with the subtly of a mack truck. He felt himself being led by the hand over to a corner table across from the bar.
Ryan glanced around at the exuberant crowd, getting a brief nod from Del behind the bar in greeting. Ryan nodded back. "You know, it wasn't too long ago my brother was here...Forget it. Let's get some drinks."
"You read my mind. But the first round's on me." Annie got up before he could protest.
The bar was crowded, and she squeezed forward expertly. Ryan played absently with the wheat grass centerpiece. He caught snippets of conversation from surrounding tables, but it was the one on the other side of the wall that captured his full attention.
"Amanda, you shouldn't be at the front of the house. You're pregnant. You shouldn't be on your feet so long. Del can handle it."
"Your lunkhead of a brother handle this crowd all by his lonesome? I don't think so. Besides, I'm only three months along. I'll be fine."
"What would Jonathan say if he walked in here right now?" There was a long pause coming from the other side. "You have told him, haven't you?"
"Yeah, I have."
"Well...how did he take it?"
"Better than I expected. He was kinda freaked, but then again so was I at first. He asked me to marry him."
That explained Jonathan's comments on fatherhood, but it was a good thing the drinks hadn't arrived yet because if Ryan had had a mouthful, Annie would have been wearing it at that moment.
"Amanda! That's wonderful! Congratulations!"
"Don't congratulate us yet, Di. I turned him down."
"What? Why? You love him. I've seen you two together and you just...work."
"Yeah, I do. And I know he cares, but he's not ready -even if he thinks he is. He's got to work some stuff out before we can go down that road."
"How'd he take that?"
"Not well, but I could see that he knew I was right. It'll just take time. I told him I'd still be here when all was said and done."
"I'm sorry it turned out this way."
"Don't be sorry. It is what it is. Despite everything's he done and everything he's been through, Jonathan's one of the good guys. I just wish he could see that, too."
"Hopefully, one day he will."
"Me and this baby are counting on it."
The color had drained out of Ryan's face by the time Annie returned with the drinks. All the pieces of the puzzle fell into place - from the conversation they had that first night to Jonathan's sudden flight. Ryan felt the panic choking him as he recalled his reaction to Greenlee's baby news.
"Honey, you're pale. What is it? What's wrong?" Annie shook his arm to garner his attention.
"We have to go." Her puzzled expression registered. "I'll explain later, but right now we have to go."
Ryan didn't wait for her response as he headed straight for the door. He frantically dialed his brother's number. "C'mon, Jon. Pick up. Pick up," he urged. It rang and rang, going to voicemail. "Shit!"
He hit redial and got the same response. His thumb pressed the 'end' button, but he had one more phone call to make before he was done.
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"So what is it, Ryan? What's the big emergency that you had to drag me and Aidan down here practically in the middle of the night?" Tad's irritation was balanced equally with his curiosity.
"Why don't we give him a chance to explain, mate," Aidan spoke up quietly from his seat at the desk.
"Jonathan's missing."
"Here we go again." Tad threw up his hands in exasperation.
"When's the last you saw him or heard from him?"
"Over a week ago. He missed a meeting so I called him. Said he was taking a couple days off."
"So Jonathan's probably on a beach somewhere nursing a hangover. Next to several women sporting dental floss for bikinis if he's lucky," Tad suggested flippantly.
"No. Uh-uh. Not Jonathan's style. That's not what he's doing," Ryan stated with conviction.
"Ryan! He's a red-blooded American male who's been badly in need of some R and R for quite some time. Your big brother gene has been working overtime, okay? Give the guy some credit."
Aidan took note of Ryan's somberness. "There's more to it, isn't there?"
"Amanda's pregnant. He proposed and she turned him down. I overheard Amanda say he did not take it well. Apparently this was some time last week - right before he disappeared."
"And you haven't been able to reach him at all?"
"Not for over a week," Ryan reiterated. "I've tried several times tonight in fact, and it just rings and rings. He won't - or can't - pick it up."
Tad chewed this over thoughtfully. "Okay. The guy gets spurned. Maybe he just wants some alone time."
"Do you remember how I reacted after Greenlee told me she was pregnant?"
"Yeah, but that was pretty situational, dontcha think? You thought at the time you had just killed your brother."
"In part, yes. But the other side of the coin is the thought of fatherhood completely flipped me out given our history. I'm sure you know that feeling, Tad."
It was not meant as a personal affront, and to Tad's credit he took it for what it was. "Point taken."
"Jonathan's been in a bad place lately. If I reacted the way I did, I can't imagine what's going through his head right now."
"Have you talked to Derek? Filed a missing persons report," Tad inquired.
"I don't want the police involved. Not yet." Ryan's unspoken meaning was understood. There was no telling what Jonathan might do. Jonathan had been on the wrong side of the law more than once, and held a deep-seeded mistrust of the police. Involving the cops might just push him into deeper hiding. The desperation was taking hold. "Please help me find my brother. I can't lose him - not again."
Tad's hard exterior finally softened. "Let's start with purchases. Your brother has a credit card, right? Any recent purchases might lead us to him, or at least give us a hint as to what he's been up to."
Aidan pulled himself towards the desk. He powered up the computer and furiously began tapping some keys. "Here we are. Jonathan Lavery. Last purchase...looks like nine days ago. A restaurant." Aidan tapped some more keys. "Before that, a hardware store and a surplus supply outfit. Before that, the hospital bill by the looks of it."
Tad leaned over his shoulder. "What city where the purchases made in?"
"All just outside of Pine Valley, I'm afraid. No indication of where's he at now."
Ryan leaned in over his other shoulder. "Why a hardware and a supply store, I wonder."
"I was hoping you could shed some light on that," Tad said.
"I have no idea."
"Looks like a dead end, mate. I'm sorry."
"Anybody else that might know where he is? Amanda?"
Ryan shook his head. "Amanda doesn't even know he's gone by the sounds of it. For that matter neither does Di. Annie knows as much as I do."
"Anyone that Jonathan would go to if he were in trouble?" Tad was reaching.
"Most of those people we just mentioned, or are in this room." Ryan straightened up suddenly. "Wait a minute. There is one more. It's a longshot, but..."
Ryan whirled around and strode to the door. "Who," Tad demanded to his back.
Ryan turned as he opened the door. "Jackson Montgomery."
"His ex-father-in-law? The one that hated his guts?"
"He got pretty chummy with him after Jonathan saved Lily's life," Aidan pointed out. "I say we check it out."
"I think Ryan's beat us to it," Tad observed wryly. "But let's keep close on his heels, see what turns up."
"Right behind you, mate."
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The pounding on the door separated Jack from the first good night's sleep he'd had in over a week. He grabbed his robe and threw it on angrily, charging down the steps. "Whoever you are, do you have any idea what time it is?" He pulled open the door in disgust and was surprised to see a disgruntled Ryan Lavery on the other side.
"Yeah, Jack, I do."
"Can't this wait until morning?"
"No, it can't." Ryan clasped his hands in front of his face. "May I please come in?" Jack stepped aside to let him in. He started to close the door, but he realized that Ryan was now joined by Tad Martin and Aidan Devane.
"Well, it's a regular party we got going here. Please...come in, and do explain." His voice had not quite lost that irritated edge.
The quartet gathered in the foyer, forming a tight circle. "Well, does someone want to tell me what's going on?"
"Jonathan's missing," Aidan blurted out.
"And we were hoping you might have heard from him." Ryan looked at him expectantly at Tad's statement.
"Not recently, no."
"Not recently," Ryan echoed. "But you have talked to him?"
"Yeah, a couple of weeks ago he came to my office."
"A couple weeks ago? And you've not heard from him since."
"No, I'm sorry," Jack said sympathetically. "I wish I could be of more help."
"Maybe you can. What did he come see you for?"
"He just wanted some information."
"What kind of information, Jack," Ryan pressured.
Jack hesitated, unsure of how much he could reveal. But one look at Ryan's panicked face, and he decided attorney-client privilege be damned. "He was looking for ownership of a piece of property."
"What property?"
"Has Lily heard from him?" The last question came from Aidan, and he thought it far more likely that Jonathan would confide in her than Jack.
Jack crossed the living room and dug in his briefcase. "As far as I know she hasn't."
"Well, could you wake her up and ask her?"
"I'm afraid that's impossible. She's been at MIT for several weeks now. She started with the spring semester." Jack couldn't stop himself from beaming with pride, despite the dire circumstances.
"That's wonderful! I'm so happy for her."
"And I'm sure Jonathan will be, too - when we find him." Ryan's patience was eroded by worry and sleeplessness.
Jack went back to digging through his briefcase, finally retrieving the folder he was looking for. He handed Ryan the copy of the address Jonathan had given him.
Ryan unfolded it and his blood ran cold as he recognized the address. "That's - that's the address of the dry cleaners we used to live above as kids. That's our childhood home."
"What's he doing going back there?" Aidan was more than a bit concerned, and judging from the expression on Ryan's face, so was he.
Jack thought back to when Jonathan was in his office the week before. He had clutched his right wrist, where the gasoline smell had been emanating from. The wheels turned until it finally clicked. Jonathan had lost most of his strength in that hand after the surgery. Gripping a pen was the best that he could do, even years later. He stared at the signature on the old release records. It was shaky and hesitant. There was no way he could have been pumping gas with that hand at the old fashioned pumps around the corner. That could only mean one thing. "Oh my God."
"'Oh my God' what, Jack? What is it?" In his frenzy Ryan had grabbed him by the collar and roughly pulled him forward.
As succinctly as possible, Jack relayed what he had observed. He exhaled loudly after it all came pouring out.
"Why didn't you say something sooner? My brother is in trouble and you keep it to yourself," Ryan spat out angrily. The hot tears were threatening at the corners of his eyes.
"I'm sorry. I really didn't think anything of it at the time. Plus, add in the attorney- client angle and I'm pretty much prevented from saying anything. Had I realized the significance, I would have come straight to you. After what Jonathan did for Lily, I'd do anything for him. You have to know that, Ryan."
Ryan, who had been struggling in Tad and Aidan's grip, relaxed. "Believe it or not, I do. I know Jonathan considers you a friend. And I do now, too."
"So why is he going back to the one place he's been trying to escape his whole life?"
Ryan's mind was in overdrive, the past and the present melding together. The purchases had a sickening and terrible logic to them. "As it was in the beginning, so shall it be in the end," Ryan whispered, his mind returning to the fateful game that had sent him chasing back through the ruins of their childhood. His eyes widened in stomach-churning recognition. "Jonathan's gone back there to finish it - once and for all."
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Jonathan gagged on the nauseating smell of the dry cleaner fluid. Whether it was a conjured olfactory memory or whether it still lingered underneath all the mustiness, it was real to him. His eyes watered profusely and his throat clenched against the meal that was struggling to make a reappearance.
He navigated the rickety steps cautiously. One almost gave under his weight, but he hopped to the next step just in time. At last he had come to the door to the past. It stubbornly refused to give, but after shoving against it with his shoulder a few times, it finally gave a loud groan and popped open.
Walking slowly, he stepped into the center of the room. His eyes closed, listening to the ghosts of his past.
"You disappointed me again, Jonny. You know what happens when you disappoint me."
"Make me another drink, Jonny"
"This is NOT your fault, Jonathan."
"You'll never amount to anything. You're nothing but one big, stupid disappointment."
Jonathan erupted forward yanking a loose plank from the floor. He swung and connected with the doorframe. He swung and knocked debris to the floor. He swung and he swung and he swung until his hands were numb and his shoulders ached. "I am not a disappointment!" Out of breath, he collapsed in a heap on the floor. "I'm not a disappointment. I'm not," he protested in a small voice to the empty room.
The anger was leeched out of him, replaced by the crushing despair and hopelessness that was his constant companion in his childhood. The memories continued to assault him, the voices echoing through his mind.
He looked around him. There was the nail where the belt hung. The closet he hid in. The window he had nearly been thrown out of. The plastered-over hole in the wall where his head had been slammed against. The bathroom where he had been nearly drowned in the shower. The kitchen where the poison sandwiches were made. Not one room in this tiny home had been safe.
The ghosts surrounded him as the voices of the past taunted him with their devilish siren song. He covered his ears to block them out. "You're not in control anymore. Just leave me alone!" His eyes were scrunched shut. When he opened them and lowered his hands, the peaceful silence enveloped him.
Jonathan had begun by opening the door to the past. Now he had to step through the doorway to get to the other side. He dug out the diary and opened to a random page:
I'm so scared. Daddy hit Jonathan so hard today. He still hasn't woken up. I don't know what to do. What if he never wakes up? I can't lose him. I love him so much. I can't survive this without him.
The words blurred slightly, but quickly came back into focus. He pressed on, skipping ahead.
Jonathan's slipping away. His grip on reality is lessening. I'm trying everything I can, but it's not working. The medications aren't working. He still thinks daddy's alive and I can't convince him he's not. It hurts me more than anything that I'm free of the hell that his mind is holding him captive in. I wish I could join him there so he wasn't alone. What if he's trapped in that hell forever? What if I can't keep him safe?
His heart ached with gratitude all over again for everything Erin had done for him. She had saved his life on more than one occasion, but he had failed to save hers. That hard truth sent a dagger through his chest, and then the tears really did come. "I'm so sorry, Erin. I shoulda been there." His chested heaved with large, gulping sobs. He cried until his eyes ran dry and his head ached. "It should have been me," he apologized to the empty room. "I should have died instead."
A miracle happened. I have my brother back! He woke up after his seizure and there he was - the brother that I knew was in there beneath the delusions and the medications and the tumor and the brain damage. I've been praying for this moment and it finally happened. He's whole again, and in love on top of it. How I've missed that smile. Only happiness from now on.
He flipped to the last entry, made only a month before her death:
I'm an aunty, and I'm spoiling him rotten. But so's his father so I guess it's okay. I'm so excited we're finally here. Whoever thought the Lavery family would find happiness? But here it is. I love both my brothers so much, but Jonathan... Jonathan is not only the brother I love dearly, but I consider him my best friend. We've been through so much together and I am so proud to see the man that he's become. He's got a brilliant mind, but an even larger heart - capable of loving like no other. And I know he loves me and Ryan. My one wish for him is that he can see the goodness in himself and turn the love inward. Ryan's come to terms with the past, and with his help so have I. I hope one day Jonathan will too see the amazing, sweet, kind, loving, good man in the mirror that I do when I look at him. I'll help him get there, and if I can't, then Ryan will. It's over, Jonathan. It's finally over. I love you so much and I'm so glad I am your sister. You make me proud everyday.
That was the last entry. It was as if she were writing him a letter from beyond the grave. Always the caring sister, always knowing what to say or do to stem his pain, she had reached out one more time to give her brother the faith in himself he needed. Holding the book to his chest, his cherished her words in that bittersweet moment. "It's not quite over, Erin. But it almost is. I'm going to make sure of it."
Jonathan sniffed loudly and began unpacking his acquisitions. "Yep, it's going to end tonight - one way or the other."
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"Can't you make this thing go any faster?" Ryan lurched forward from the back seat impatiently.
"Rental cars are built for durability, not speed," Tad reminded him. "The plane ride at least got us into Iowa in under an hour. We'll be there soon."
"Not soon enough for me." Ryan tapped his hands nervously against the back of the seat as Aidan struggled to make out the markings on the map. "There's the town limit sign. We're almost there."
The rest of the short ride was spent in a tense silence. The dilapidated buildings streamed by, broken down by years of abandonment. The familiar building loomed in the distance, an ominous figure cut out from the sky.
"That's it! That's his car!" Ryan was pointing to a vehicle parked askew in the alleyway. He was opening the car door and he jumped out before Tad came to a complete stop.
His shoes made a hollow slapping sound as they pounded the pavement. He reached the front door before Tad and Aidan even had a chance to unbuckle their seatbelts.
Ryan's fist thudded the door repeatedly. "Hockett! It's Ryan! If you're in there, let me in." Ryan rattled the lock, searching to gain entry. "Hockett!"
When there was no response he ran to the alley with the intention of climbing up the fire escape, but it had rusted through and the remains hung pitifully, swaying in the breeze. The fear ran up his spine and took root in his heart. He ran frantically back to the front door screaming his brother's name at the top of his lungs.
Jonathan appeared before him out of the shadows like an apparition partitioned by the glass. "Ryan."
"Jonathan," was Ryan's breathless greeting.
"Go home." Jonathan was not asking or merely suggesting, he was commanding him.
"No, uh-uh. Not without you." When Jonathan stood firmly in his spot, Ryan made a demand of his own. "It's time to go, Jonathan."
"No, Ryan. I have unfinished business here."
"What? What business?"
"I think you know."
Ryan hung his head. He did know. "Not like this," he pleaded in a coarse whisper.
"I need to do this. It's the only way." The determination translated through the plexiglass and the iron gate.
"No." His objection sounded false and unconvincing.
Jonathan pressed a rectangle object up to the door. "I finally read it."
Erin's diary. A spark of hope alighted in Ryan.
"I'm doing this for all of us, Ryan. Including Erin." The sadness crept into the corners of his eyes. "I wish she could be here."
"She can't, Hockett." Ryan's voice was strangulated with emotion. "Erin's dead. She's gone. You need to grieve for her."
"I have."
Ryan took in Jonathan's calm exterior. As unnerving as that was under the circumstances, the emptiness in his brother's eyes scared him more. "Okay. But have you grieved for yourself?"
This odd question captured Jonathan's attention. "What are you talking about? I'm not the one that died."
Ryan hesitated, uncertain how far he should take it. "Yes, in a way you are. A part of you has been dead for so long, lost in that black nothing of our childhood." Jonathan did a double-take, surprised at how astute Ryan's observation was. "The part that could let yourself feel worthy of love and happiness. The part..."
The rising moon was reflected in the tears that swam in Jonathan's eyes. Ryan knew he had struck a nerve. He pressed a hand to the glass wanting to reach through it and ease his brother's pain. But words were all he had now. "It's over, Jonathan."
He shook his head slowly. "Not yet. But it will be soon."
The icy fingerof fear slithered back into his chest, turning his blood cold. "What are you going to do, Jonathan?"
"I'm going to put an end to it. Tonight."
"Jonathan, let me in. Please, Jonathan. You can't kill the ghosts. Not like this."
"You're wrong. It has to be this way. I'm sorry." Jonathan took two steps back, swathed in the shadows. Time seemed to freeze as he held Ryan's eyes with his own. "I love you, Ryan."
"I love you, too, Hockett." His throat was thick with emotion. "Please let me in. Please come home with me," he made one last attempt. But the pleas were swallowed up by the night, Jonathan having disappeared back into the abandoned house.
Ryan slammed his fist into the door in frustration. He gave it a kick for emphasis. Aidan and Tad sidled up next to him without him noticing. "I think Jonny wants to be alone, mate. Maybe it's best if you let him be."
"I can't just leave him here."
"Ryan, you and I both know that he has to come to terms with things on his own," Tad reasoned. "You've done a lot, but he has to go the rest of the way alone."
Ryan parked himself on the curb. "I'm not leaving. Not until I know Jonathan's going to be okay."
"Well, we're not going to leave you stranded out here." Tad sat down next to him. "Is there anywhere-"
The tinkling of breaking glass interrupted his thought. The trio searched for the source, and looked on in shock as plumes of black smoke billowed up, merging with the clouds. The acrid smell reached them, breaking the initial paralysis.
"Hockett!" Ryan jumped to his feet, his cry drowned out by a large explosion. A ball of fire blossomed above, blocking out the moon. The wave of heat from the blast knocked him back as flames licked ferociously at the windows.
"Hockett," Ryan yelled, the smoke stinging his lungs. He rushed forward, barely restrained by Tad and Aidan. "Let me go! That's my brother in there! Hockett! Let go of me!"
"Do you want to get yourself killed?"
"I don't care!" The tears burned as they came, a product of the overwhelming smoke and panic for his brother. His heart felt like it was being ripped out of his chest. "That's my brother in there," he choked out.
Ryan almost broke free of their grasp, but Tad and Aidan were able to hold on at the last second. He continued screaming his brother's name until his throat was raw. They looked on in horror as the roof collapsed suddenly sending up a shower of sparks that illuminated the night sky. The sparks rained down around them, the embers dying out as they hit the concrete, making a sickening sizzling sound before they were snuffed out.
Ryan's strength was enhanced by his blinding panic at the thought of his brother beneath the wreckage. He wriggled his arms out of their hold and ran full speed toward the inferno. His grief-laden cries for his brother ripped through the night. "Hockett! HOCKETT!"