Happy Holidays!
Well, it's certainly been a veeeeery long day for the poor townsfolk. My workload snuck up on me again and decided to bury me under an avalanche. But I've dug myself out, and now wel'll have to see if PV's finest and not so finest can do the same...
####
Politics wasn't the only thing that made strange bedfellows. This was JR's thought as he watched the collection of individuals huddled around what passed for a kitchen table in Chandler land. They planned and they plotted and they paced (those that were able), and they filled the endless minutes with flurries of activity, because the one thing none of them could do was just watch the time stretch and extend infinitely, endlessly.
Over one year ago, they had all been united by another tense, tragic circumstance. The lingering scars of that never-quite-broken connection imprinted an untold story on every face. If he could still look in a mirror, he would see the worst traces of that story in himself.
He held back, kept at a distance: the uninitiated member - and the founder - of this hellish club. Hard eyes turned periodically in his direction reminded him of this distinction.
One pair, ever the source of surprise, pushed open the door just a crack.
Just enough.
When the actual door opened in this castle without benefit of its loyal guardsmen, they all turned in unison.
Zach and Kendall entered, delivering a small parcel of miracles to the deprived room, filling it with temporary sounds of joy. They all watched the girls run to their mother. They all watched with small smiles and with longing. And one by one, they all turned back to the door, hoping. Again, JR felt this kinship.
A collective breath was held and within moments, JR was facing his mother. Within seconds, warm arms enveloped him, making him forget…forget it all for one priceless instant. For once, he did not push or shrink or move away. With one look at the man he had once called Dad, he closed his eyes and took the moment for all it was worth.
Always, forever the thief.
####
Erica was getting to the man. The problem was that this whole exchange had also gotten to her. Nina recoiled further behind the door, praying that the small box that had clattered to the floor would not be their undoing.
"What was that?"
While she had expected Erica to utter a composed "nothing" at the angry question, her companion had once again managed to toss a curve ball.
"Nina, it's okay. Come out."
"I should've known," the man said as she reluctantly emerged into the open. "You got anybody else hiding back there? If you do, I swear to God …" He'd let the threat trail off with just the right menacing edge, but he had not lifted his gun again. "Who are you?" he asked.
"Who I am isn't really important, is it?" Nina had discovered her own curve: a steady voice, which found unexpected, easy words. "These kids, they're what matters. Look a them." Easy, and yet the most difficult of her life. "They're innocent. They don't care about any of this. They don't even know about how much trouble they're in right now. They see a kind face and they smile. No questions asked. Absolute trust. I miss that so damn much."
"This a tag-team?" It was his only protest, yet still he - nor the gun- moved. Nina took the chance and pressed forward.
"That's the best kind of future, don't you think? Reaching for absolutely anything because you're not afraid of the phantom foot that'll trip you or the hand that'll slap you back. They've got that chance, and it's hard for you because you don't see a future…" She locked eyes with Erica, who nodded almost imperceptibly. "And someone without a future has nothing to lose, right?" This time, she didn't look to a woman who was the embodiment of everything she hated and all that she admired. She didn't see a hulking man who grudgingly stood behind his bulletproof fortress. She saw no one… "I've been in that place that makes you cold and hard because that condition, that adaptation is the only way you can survive. And it seems like freedom – it feels like finally letting go of anything that could hurt or break you. I suppose that's one way to look at a prison, right? You can't get out, but by God, nothing can get in, either. Nothing can get to you." A soft chuckle escaped her lips. "Woe be the fool with the bobby pin that tries …"
An image of just such a fool took hold of her mind and her heart.
"Show them the other way. Give them their future back." It was her last, her only remaining offering.
To those kids. To him.
To them all.
His hesitation, those long unfolding seconds, carried the weight of the choice.
Finally, he turned to the sleeping children. "I need a smoke, so I'm going outside for a few minutes, but I think you'll be okay," he said to the slumbering forms. He laid the gun on the table and reached into the nearest bassinet. An ever-so-slight uptick of the lips was his only giveaway as he stroked a tiny cheek with one finger. "It's all good, little guy."
Both Erica and she looked to each other and then to the abandoned gun. Neither moved.
Instead, they quietly watched as the massive man walked to the door, bending down as he passed through it. He left them with one final observation: "The rooms at the end of the hall are nice."
####
And they kept coming through the doors. People – some he had called family, some even friends – were descending at once: their laughing, care-free ghostly counterparts morphed with the strained faces that were now contorted into every imaginable emotion; they created a kind of torturous limbo where he couldn't, he couldn't –
With each face, each unpaid debt, his grip on the bars underneath his fingers slid a little more. As did his grip on the here and now.
He couldn't go back there.
The last figure through that door drew his attention not because of its advance, but because of its retreat. That small, tiny figure drew JR's attention because when those eyes that were trying so hard not to moved in his direction, they reflected back everything JR was and could be.
"AJ," he whispered.
He didn't realize that he was softly moving forward in his chair – that he was, in fact, the only one in the room now moving - until a dark shadow above them emerged.
"Well, well, well, the gang's all here…mostly, anyway."
Until it overtook the whole room, and every figure within.
####
After they bundled up the children, Erica immediately rushed for the door.
"Wait!" With hesitation, Nina picked up the weapon still laying on the table. "We might need this."
Once they stepped back into the unknown, Erica turned to her, patting the precious girl still snuggled against her shoulder. "I think you should take the children." She glanced into the darkness before them. "Stay with them in case..."
The arguments and assurances formulating in Nina's mind failed to reach her lips. Instead, she quietly took the sleeping girl and placed her on the shoulder opposite an equally quiet boy. "Be careful," she said.
Erica smiled, but not in the way she always did for the cameras. When she disappeared in the dark, Nina could only wait.
And she did something that had been alien to her for so long: she stood on watch for that better future.
She watched and waited until a voice called from the darkness. Beckoning…
After Nina arrived at the corridor's end, she was met with a sight that both shocked and amazed her. Typical emotions for this day.
Erica had a small, animatedly talking boy perched on her lap. And in the corner, an unfamiliar man was bound by a scarf that could only belong to one person.
This image kept Nina rooted until someone tapped her on the shoulder.
When she turned to Opal, the older woman only shrugged. "What can I say? I can tie a mean Clove Hitch."
####
The man standing at the top of the staircase looked vaguely familiar to JR, but Cara supplied a more familiar greeting. "If you have a problem with me, or with any of us, then take it up with us and leave our kids alone, you bastard."
This guy had to have slipped in when they were all gone, or else the tunnels had another rat. JR couldn't make out much of the man's features, but that bought-and-paid-for grin stood in contrast to his dark features. With the three-piece and the slick-back to match, he looked the part of the amiable host.
"Rest assured, Doctor, that you and I have much catching up to do." JR recognized the absolute venomous dip in the word doctor. He recognized it too well.
"She's right, Espinoza. Whatever game you're playing, it's over."
Jesse's equally calm, equally venomous words helped settle one matter. JR immediately connected the guy's name with the big fine jewels set-up that Adam had been keeping a business eye on a few years back.
"Ah, Mr. Hubbard. It has truly been a long time. I am sorry that we never had the opportunity to meet directly. If you would have only alerted us to your predicament with your family, or should I say families, we would have been more than agreeable in finding a solution to your problem."
That threat-laced tone reappeared, and it remained as Espinoza directed his attention elsewhere.
"And Ms. Montgomery. What you did to my poor secretary cannot go unpunished, I'm afraid. We all know how the women in your family deal with anger, but it is never good practice to let lover's spats devolve into violence."
"You piece of –"
The woman standing beside Bianca put a hand on her arm, which seemed to somehow do the trick.
The same couldn't be said for the other people in this room, judging by their expressions. Who the hell was this guy to them?
That menacing gaze moved around the room, scanning every face and settling on…
"And you, Mr. Adam Chandler, Jr., our finest achievement."
####
"You're a doctor now, right? So do something."
After pressing the no-longer-clean cloth against the boy's wound, Jenny turned to Liza. "Sorry, but the career trek for doctors these days is not quite as swift as it appears to be for lawyers."
Low blow, maybe, but the fact that she was literally a dead woman walking had tempered her politeness.
"Will he be okay?"
Those almost audible words were the first that the girl had spoken.
"He's gonna be good as new," Liza said with a strained smile.
Jenny did not even want to imagine how the young girl, or her even younger companion, had gotten here, let alone the semi-conscious young man with a bullet lodged in his gut. All she knew was that she was going to get them all out of here, even if –
"What in heavens? –"
"What the Hades?"
The paradox of the proclamations created a strange kind of synchronicity.
The scary thing was that at this point, her mother's two additional, unexpected companions iddn't even phase her.
One of said companions, Erica, approached the girl. "Aren't you from the Miranda Center?"
"Yeah," was the defiant, quiet response.
A moan redirected Jenny's attention back to the injured boy. "My..." The word was nearly drowned by a muffled breath she didn't like the sound of. Putting a hand against the burning, icy forehead, she said, "Don't try to talk."
The boy raised his head with determination. "My brother," he said. "Please call my brother."
####
"What is a soldier, have you ever asked yourself that? Certainly not a flesh-and-blood man, but rather a weapon. An instrument. Isn't that right, Detective Monroe? You see, the poor misguided thinkers of our world have always had it wrong, so very wrong. If you want the ultimate soldier, the ultimate weapon, then you must ensure certain qualities are present. Weapons at their best are cold, efficient, and – most crucial of all – witless. So it stands to reason that your most effective soldiers aren't the strong, the brave, and those composed of iron will. Oh, no. Our best if not-so-brightest are weak to their very core. That is why when my colleague, Alexander, suggested his own blood for our great experiment, we knew that it could never work. Michael, perhaps, but never Alex, Jr. How could a man with such a steady trigger hand ever be considered weak? No, Alex , Jr. wouldn't do. But Adam, Jr….oh, my colleagues and I saw the potential in you immediately, young man."
The heart is the ultimate kill shot…
"Please do not think of yourself as a guinea pig, Mr. Chandler. You are in fact the template, the prototype, for a whole new brand of solider training: a revolutionary method that will surely benefit a great many, provided the price is right, of course. Admittedly, you were low on our radar initially. But who could have anticipated that a bit of late-night news would provide the perfect dessert for a rather "spirited" evening between two colleagues? I really owe a special debt of thanks to Vanessa. At first, all I saw on that screen was the mugshot of a drunken lout who had wrapped himself around a tree with a car. But Vanessa, she saw more. So much more. She saw that ever-elusive X.-factor, if you will. You, Adam, Jr., just needed a little nudge to realize your full potential."
Take their hearts, take them…
"It wasn't a challenge, those first few 'tweaks. Your penchant for passing out drunk on park benches made it quite easy for our helpful aides to bring you to us when need be. The culmination of our grand project did provide a challenge,, though, as we had to act quickly. That impromptu little back-from-the-dead party was an ideal laboratory, though. I must thank you all for being such wonderful independent variables."
Hubbard: His women are his weakness. Exploit that weakness. Punish him…
Dr. Castillo: La familia, she values it so. As do I, as do I...
Dr. Martin: the co-conspirator. His time will come later, one punishment shall suffice for now…
Dear Dr. Hayward: the perennial thorn. You should know better than most. Though you may be tempted, we need him, but we will give you a gift. Just aim, and all your problems will disappear…
"No, no, no!"
Our perfect soldier.
"Oh yes, Mr. Chandler. I understand that recall can be a bit overwhelming. Take comfort in the fact that for once in your life, you didn't screw it all up. Certainly, as with any experiment, there were a few misfires, so to speak. I am certain that we can owe that to your own….impulses taking over. As it turned out, however, some of those misfires were quite useful in the long-term. So brava. You even passed the ultimate test…
Your greatest test awaits…
"Cutting out your own heart."