A/N - Merry Christmas everyone! And a Happy New Year...I thought as a present you and myself (My birthday is on NEw YEars Day) I would post this new chapter before Santa comes knocking...
So read, review and of course, enjoy
Chapter Fourteen – Let Me Count The Ways
Whoever this little girl was, it wasn't the same one that she had seen in the home videos. Cassie Burton was a bubbly little girl with an intense talent for math and a sweet disposition. This little girl, the one connected to wires and machines, laying in a too big hospital bed, was a shadow of herself. Her mother sat beside the bed, chatting and holding her daughters hand, trying to get some sort of response from her. But all she got was the word that Cassie had been repeating since she had been found. Red. She stared straight ahead and repeated the word over and over again, her voice flat and expressionless.
"Red."
Olivia's heart broke slightly when she saw the desperation on Mrs Burton's face. She had gotten her daughter back but something was broken. Cassie's finger's drummed on the edge on her bed, a nervous rhythm that repeated.
"Red."
"They are taking her up to do some brain scans shortly but it's obvious what's happened. What Walter said was true."
Peter's voice was fast and annoyed, his sentence ending with a distinct sigh. Olivia had always hated crimes to do with children but since Etta, it had become something else entirely. And she knew Peter was the same. The children morphed into Etta and each one needed a happy ending. But it wasn't going to happen. Someone had stolen Cassie, broke into her mind and stolen her talent. Mrs Burton's fingers ran over her daughters naked head, touching the mark that was there, clearly defined against the pale skin of her scalp. It looked brutal there, red and fresh, a clear indication that perhaps Walter was right in his assessment.
"Did you call Walter?"
"Yeah. Astrid is bringing him over."
"Good. We need to know what happened."
"She hasn't said a word. Beyond the obvious 'Red' obsession. Do you have an idea?"
"Hypnosis. There has to be something that she can't tell us on her own."
The silence that Walter had ordered, sat heavy, broken by the ramblings and tapings of their small, broken victim. Olivia was fairly certain that one some level, Cassie understood when they spoke to her, trying to explain what they were trying to do but for whatever reason, she couldn't comply. She fidgeted becoming more and more agitated and distressed. Eventually, they had released her to her mother, who looked at a loss of what exactly to do as well. Walter sat heavily on a chair with a sigh, a deep frown on his face.
"Someone has damaged her brain completely."
"Could it just be trauma?"
"Olivia, there is no such thing as 'just trauma'. Trauma can force a rewiring of the brain, triggering panic attacks and inconsistent behaviour."
"So we can't fix this?"
Walter shook his head, his face sad.
"No. Did you try reaching her with math?"
Olivia frowned and Walter stood, suddenly in a flurry of activity. He opened a briefcase that he had bought with him, pulling out a thick book. He flipped open the pages, locating whatever had had been looking for, his smile bright.
"Ahh. Perfect. That's just what she needs. Paper and pen please."
Peter moved around his father, fishing out a pen and paper from the briefcase and they stood back and watched as Walter started to write, his pen flying across the paper, his mumblings low. When he sat back a few minutes later, the paper was completely covered with math equations, some Olivia could make sense of, others that she couldn't. Walter reached into his briefcase, pulling out another sheet of paper before turning on his heel and leaving the room, Peter and Olivia exchanging a quick look before following.
Walter sat back, a small, satisfied smile on his face. Cassie was scribbling on the paper frantically, her free hand still tapping out the rhythm, her eyes narrow with concentration. She completed the paper before placing her pen carefully down on the table and sitting back, her eyes focusing on nothing again. Walter carefully placed the thick textbook in front of her, watching as she leaned forward and returned her focus back to the math. Mrs Burton frowned.
"What's going on?"
Walter sighed, turning to face Mrs Burton.
"It appears, Mrs Burton, that the trauma that Cassie has suffered has not affected her abilities."
"Will she be ok?"
"I am unable to tell you that. It's up to Cassie."
Olivia opened her mouth to question Walter again but was interrupted by her phone. She frowned at the unfamiliar number before answering.
"Dunham."
"Dunham, its Agent Carter."
"Hey Carter, is everything ok?"
"No. You need to come home. Now."
"Is Etta ok? Michael?"
Olivia was moving, Peter at her side before Carter finished his sentence, her heart pounding in her ears.
"Michael was taken."
Olivia ignored the crime scene tape and all the agents and officers that were milling outside her house. She strode inside, her body almost failing completely when she saw Etta safe but fussing in Agent Carter's arms. She grabbed Etta, holding her close, pressing kisses to any place she could reach. Etta stopped fussing, her hands grasping at Olivia's clothes. She kept her frown as Olivia leaned back slightly, using the edge of her sleeve to wipe Etta's nose and using her hand to smooth off the tears. Her heart almost stopped when she saw the blood there but it wasn't Etta's, coming off easily with the palm of her hand.
"Momma."
"I know baby. I'm here."
Etta nodded slightly, sniffing and burrowing her face into Olivia's neck. Olivia rocked her, trying to calm down her daughter and herself. Her heart was pounding was so loud, she could hear the blood in her ears. She rubbed small circles on Etta's back, feeling the hiccups that rocked her tiny body. She had worked herself up into a right state. Peter was at their side a few moments later, his hand resting on Etta's head, his eyes giving her the quick once over.
"She ok?"
"Scared but fine."
"Good."
Peter pressed a quick kiss to the top of Etta' head before turning to Carter, his face a mask of anger.
"What the hell happened?"
Carter frowned.
"I'm not sure. I came inside, did my checks and everything was fine. I got back into the truck and someone was in the back seat. Clipped me from behind."
With her daughter safe in her arms, Olivia was finally able to see the situation as a whole. And the first thing she saw was the blood on Agent Carter's stiff white collar. With a sinking stomach, she remembered.
"Kathleen and Angela, where are they?"
"Upstairs, giving statements to Broyles and getting checked over."
"Checked over?"
"They aren't seriously hurt, they-"
Olivia never caught the end of his sentence, turning on her heel and striding upstairs. Angela was sitting on the floor in the hallway near their room, a cigarette dangling from her fingers, a large cut above her eyebrow. She said nothing to Olivia, staring into space, shaking slightly, her face a deathly white. Olivia strode past, following the voices into Etta's nursery. Broyles was standing by the door way, away from Kathleen and the EMT that was checking her over. Her eye was already starting to swell, her lips split and her hands were bloody. She smiled slightly at Olivia over the EMT's shoulder.
"I'm fine really. It looks far worse than it is I promise."
Olivia said nothing, watching as the EMT finished cleaning her up. Olivia moved forward, balancing Etta on her knee as she leant over, cupping Kathleen's chin, turning her face slightly.
"I am so sorry Kathleen. Are you ok?"
"I'm fine. I already said that. Is Etta ok?"
"Freaked out but fine. What happened?"
Kathleen sniffed.
"Agent Carter came in to check on us. He stayed for a few minutes, giving Etta and Michael some candy and making himself a cup of coffee. He went back out to his truck and everything was fine. I was in the kitchen with Etta when there was a knock on the door. I think Angela opened it and they must have pushed their way in. I heard Michael yell and run upstairs and I put Etta in her highchair but before I could check on anything someone came into the kitchen. I didn't see their face, they were wearing a balaclava. I had to protect Etta."
Kathleen sniffed and wiped tears off her cheeks with agitated movements.
"I hit and punched and pulled, making as much noise as possible. I did everything that Nick taught me. Etta started screaming and they must have gotten scared with all the noise and they left the kitchen. I heard more yells and thumps and then it was silent. I stayed in the kitchen with Etta until Agent Broyles arrived. I was too scared to leave her. I'm so sorry Olivia."
Kathleen dissolved into tears and Olivia placed an arm around her, pulling her close. That explained the blood that she found on Etta, it was Kathleen's.
"Kathleen, you protected Etta. I am so grateful that you were here. I don't want to think about what could have happened if you weren't. I am the one that is sorry. You got dragged into this mess because of me."
Peter strode into the room, pausing at the doorway as he took in Kathleen's face. He knelt in front of her, her face in his hands as he examined her injuries.
"Oh my God Kathleen, I am so sorry. Are you ok?"
Kathleen sniffed, nodding slightly.
"I'm fine. Stop fussing. Is Angela alright?"
"She's fine I think. In a bit of shock. Kathleen, do you remember anything that might help us find who took Michael?"
Kathleen frowned slightly.
"I don't think so. I do remember how they smelt."
"How they smelt?"
"Yeah. Like sweat and perfume. A horrible one too. Cheap, you know? And alcohol. Their breath smelt like they had spent a week at a bar."
Olivia frowned as she readjusted Etta, who had calmed down enough to take in her surroundings again. Etta lifted her head and looked at Kathleen, her face pulled into a deep frown. She released Olivia's shirt and extended her hand, brushing Kathleen's face with her fingers.
"Lena. Momma, Lena has booboo."
Kathleen captured Etta's hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
"I'm ok, Princess. But I could do with a hug."
Etta wriggled out of Olivia's embrace and into Kathleen's arms, chattering softly, talking about Kathleen's booboo's, frowning slightly. Taking advantage of Etta's distraction, Olivia stood and moved to where Broyles stood silently in the doorway.
"What did Angela say?"
"Not much I'm afraid. She opened the door and got hit. Hard. She woke up around the time that we got here."
"Did she remember who she opened the door too?"
"No. I'm assuming that she thought that it was Agent Carter again."
"So no description?"
"Nothing I'm afraid. But we found something interesting in your bedroom."
Olivia offered one last glance to her daughter before following Broyles out of the room. When they got into the bedroom, she saw immediately what Broyles meant by interesting. There, sprawled across the mirror in one of the few lipsticks that Olivia owned, were a series of words that didn't make any sense to her.
"Michael what upstairs when the kidnapper came in. He must have heard all the commotion and left you the only message he could."
"Did the techs take pictures?"
"Of course."
"Do you have a copy that I could have?"
"Sure. I'll get them for you."
Olivia focused her attention back on the mirror as Broyles left the room. Something niggled at her brain as she looked at the sequence of words, written in a language and format that she didn't remotely recognise.