The Relinquishment

Matt vanished from his website for a few days and hung out at Giselle's house. He knew that what Aphasia said about her was true and was still working on the plan he promised Aphasia – to expose Jesse for what he was, without bringing Giselle down. Shock seemed the best argument. He was studying the effects of being in shock and post traumatic stress, to see if he could somehow spin things in that direction for her, should Aphasia decide to hang her out to dry. So far, Aphasia claimed that she would turn over what she had, after Jesse was exposed. The politics of all of this mess was a bit much for her and she knew that this type of stuff would be better handled by Matt, but in due time.

Giselle did yoga each day, several hours of dance practice, and went to the steam room at the country club. Now that Jesse was gone, her time was abundant, but clearly lonely. She came into the house, looking refreshed and energized, but still empty. Matt looked at her as she came into the room, but quickly put his focus back on his computer. "Do you need anything, Matt?" She asked.

"Pretty self sufficient," he replied, dryly. She nodded, sadly and retired to her room.

Matt pursed his lips and looked at the text from Andrea: Aphasia wants to see you. Actually, Matt felt pretty confident in his avoidance of the woman who had somehow brought out of him a lot of things that he had never said out loud… That scared him, but one would never hear him use such a word to describe an emotion he had. All of the dealings with her, since that day had been done through Andrea. His phone rang and he answered, "Andrea, I have yielded no results for Aphasia. Let her know that I can't produce any if she continues to disturb me."

"Actually, I'm calling about a post on the website… Noah Puckerman is dead," Andrea said.

"Hmm… Uh… I'm not sure why that would be on the site. Am I missing something?" He asked, clicking on the tab to the website and refreshing his page. "Quinn Fabray is blaming me for his death. How did he die?" He asked Andrea.

"Haven't been able to gather that info yet," Andrea said. "Just thought that maybe you should see this. Want me to delete it?" She asked.

"No. Maybe someone will respond with some information on this. I'd like to know how I ended up responsible for it. Forward the office calls to my cell, please?"

"Sure thing. I'm going to see if Anthony can get anything out of Tinsley on the matter…"

"No! Don't do that. Come on. One of his best friends just died. Let them have some peace," Matt said. When he hung up, he shook his head and searched for the news report on the matter. Obviously, it had not been a murder, because he couldn't find it in the local news. He further searched and only found the death in the obituaries… How then was it his fault?

Matt responded to the post on his website – a colorful arrangements of cuss words and all caps that he did not even think Quinn Fabray had in her to share: Miss Fabray, I am sorry that you feel this way, but I assure you that I know nothing about Noah Puckerman's death and I am truly sad that he has met an untimely end. I extend my condolences, to you, and your daughter. I hope that both of you will manage together through your loss. Then, he went to find Giselle, "Hey – I don't know if you've been told this, but your friend, Noah Puckerman is dead."

Giselle's eyes widened and she asked, "Did Sam Evans kill him?"

"I don't know, but I doubt it. It wasn't in the news. Murder always makes the news," Matt said. "I'm going to have to take off for a bit…" He turned and collected his things, then left. He called Andrea back and said, "Hey… see where Aphasia wants to meet me. I'm leaving Giselle's and I can't come back to the office, obviously."

"I'll get on that, Mister," she told him and hung up.

Aphasia tried to hand the ice skates to Matt and he frowned as he looked at them, "I'm going to bust my ass," he told her. He had only ever gone ice skating once, in high school – with Jesse, Andrea, and Quinn Fabray – the one time that she had ever gone out with Jesse. They saw Will Schuester and Emma Pillsbury skating that night, dominating the ice like a couple of pros. If Matt remembered correctly, Aphasia was a pretty big deal on the ice, when they were younger. He remembered Jesse claiming that she was the only girl in school talented enough to be his partner… but she'd rejected the offer, and Matt had NO idea why he was thinking about any of this as she waved the skates at him.

"You asked me where I would like to meet to discuss our situation and this is my decision," she said, with a little roll of her neck.

His eyebrows remained furrowed, though he forced a tight smile as he snatched them from her hands. "I don't understand why meeting here means that I have to pretend I know the first thing about ice-skating," he said.

"It doesn't. But, with the stuff that we're discussing, I thought that the ice would be a good place to talk without anyone paying us any mind," She said, making sure her own skates were secured.

Matt mumbled, "They wouldn't have paid us any mind in a strip club, either."

"Sexually charged places make me uncomfortable. Cheering men and naked women…" She didn't finish the sentence.

"There's a male strip club out here, isn't there?" He asked.

"We're here now, Matt!" She snapped, now helping him to get into his skates.

"I will never in my life ask you where you would like to meet for another discussion," Matt made the mental note, aloud, glaring at her, as he did. Aphasia just smiled at him got up, took his hand and guided him towards the ice.

"I won't let you fall, Matt. Where are you going to put your bag?" She wondered.

"Right where it is," he told her. "It's padded. When I fall and break my neck, my laptop will still be in perfect condition." Matt finally remembered why Aphasia's ice skate history stuck out in his mind. He remembered it because the night of the ice skate double date, Jesse had mentioned all of it; because Aphasia had been there, too and Andrea began to tease him about having a crush on the magnificent skater, in front of his date and all. Quinn seemed more amused than offended by the possibility but Jesse was livid. "Aphasia… I'm really sorry about not listening to you when you told me about Jesse."

She paused and then stared at him. "I'm sorry that you ever considered him a friend," she said. "It just seems like anyone he touches has their life poisoned."

"It was the opposite, for me," Matt said, sort of shimmying in her arms, worried about striding too broad and hitting the ice beneath his feet. "Throughout school, it was always a fun challenge to know that I had someone to try to beat me at everything and to see him lose, but only just. But, after my family… Jesse really stepped up and was there for me. We actually learned to work together. He helped me when there was no one else around. We were actually good, until…" He laughed and asked, "Why do I keep talking when I'm around you?"

"Because, you know that I'll listen and that I don't have any room to judge you for anything you say. Something came between you two?" She asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah… uh… well – I was coping with my loss at the strip club. I had a favorite dancer. She was nice enough to come over for private dances to help try to cheer me up. I don't know why I was so into her. She was a fantasy, but in real life – right in front of me, you know? She didn't make any of my pain go away, at all… but when I was looking at her, looking at something like what she did; it seemed impossible to think about my family. She was a good distraction. We had drinks one night and she brought me home, worried about how much I had to drink. She called Jesse, because she didn't want to leave me alone and his number was the most frequent one that she saw on my missed calls. I guess when he saw her, his competitive nature against me flared up again, because soon after that, I walked into his apartment and saw him having sex with her on his couch. He had conveniently left the door unlocked and "forgotten" that I was coming over to pick something up." Matt laughed and said, "I still to this day have no idea why he married her. Maybe to further throw in my face that for once, he actually won something over me, fair and square."

"Is that why you didn't want to let her get what's coming to her?" Aphasia asked. "You still care about her? Or that whole – the one that got away syndrome thing?" She asked, hoisting him up a little, on her shoulder, as they skated.

"No," he told her. "I'm not going to do that to her because she's a friend, and those are rare to come by and difficult to keep."

"So, there is some part of you that supports vigilantism," Aphasia said.

"It's not that I support it as much as it is that there is a strong difference between stabbing a bad man that you hate seventeen times and crying, conflicted as you watch a bad man that you love die, because you're too afraid to let go of the chance to finally be free of him. Nobody mourned for Jesse the way that Giselle still is. Even though she was abused, I think that if she could undo his death, she would."

"Love don't do that to somebody," Aphasia muttered.

"So… Did we come here for that?" Matt wondered. "You kept calling the office for me."

"Well, I know that you're working on the whole Jesse St. James thing; but have you thought about the unavoidable Sam Evans thing? I mean, eventually, you'll have to see him."

"I will be seeing him in a few days," Matt said. "I have quite a day in store for him."

"And who will be there to mediate?" Aphasia asked.

"Mediate what? I hope that Sam Evans does have the nerve to attack me!" Matt snapped.

"What about you attacking him?" She queried.

"Would never happen," Matt answered, confidently. "Not only have I never engaged in a physical fight, in my life, I'm not about to fight a killer whose been to prison as my introduction to the world of bawling with brawn. If I was meant to do that, I wouldn't have evolved into the intellect that I am."

"So, what do you have in mind for him, Your Intelligence?" She wondered.

"That's personal, and I don't know that you aren't an ally to him," Matt answered.

"Fair enough," she said. "I do have a suggestion, if you want to know it."

"I don't," Matt said, in the coldest and hardest tone he had used with her all day. Aphasia shrugged her shoulders and continued to skate with him, getting slightly better, but only if she was propping him up. "Is there anything else we should discuss, while you have me vulnerable on this damned ice?"

"Whether you had any success with the whole tying Sam to Jesse's death thing," she said.

"Also personal," he told her.

"Why do I feel like you use me for your gain, but when I ask you about it, you don't share. That's pretty selfish, don't you think?" she asked.

At some point, the two ended up at a music store. It occurred to both of them, after they were finished with ice skating that neither of them believed in letting anyone know where they lived and both of them were intent on keeping it that way; whether they still wanted to be in each other's company, or not. In the music store, Aphasia selected a few CDs, while Matt studied the vinyl selection. He'd inherited a HUGE collection from his father, but hardly ever touched them. Now, he was looking to see if there was anything that he simply needed to add.

The woman found her way back to him and asked, "Have you heard anything about any of these?"

Matt collected the CDs from her hand, flipped through them, and laughed, "No, and I wouldn't hear anything about any of this substance free, blissfully ignorant…"

Aphasia snatched them back and snapped, "No' was enough!" Then, she playfully elbowed him. After a moment, a song came on and she began to do a dance called the Dougie, "What you know about this, Rutherford?" She asked.

"You joking, right? Woman, I will Dougie you out of a house and home!" He challenged and began to do his own spin of the dance. Before she knew it, they were challenging each other to a slew of dances, ones from their teenage years, ones from their childhood. At one point, they did the Kid N'Play dance where they click their feet together, and both exploded into laughter right afterwards. Matt had subconsciously collected Aphasia into a loose hug and said, "You are silly!"

She laughed and said back, "YOU are silly, Matt! Had no idea you had it in you." Then, she wiped her eyes with her shirt and announced, "Whoo! It's been years since I laughed myself to tears."

"I can't remember the last time that I just laughed," Matt replied. "Thank you. And not just for the dancing, but for everything. I don't know your angle, yet – but I appreciate the entertainment until I can figure it out." Aphasia just nodded, her chuckles still dying down. To be honest, she didn't really know her angle yet, either. However, she was really enjoying herself.

Matt was back at Giselle's when Andrea called him back. "Yep?" He answered.

"I was able to get some information out of Brittany. Apparently you sent a photograph of Sam Evans and Mercedes Jones hugging all of Puckerman's friends goodbye to the rehab center that he was in and the guy OD'd or alcohol poisoning killed him… Britt was a little fuzzy on that piece."

"Ah, so it's BS. I didn't even realize that Noah Puckerman was in rehab. I didn't realize that he even had a drinking problem. Okay. Thanks. You know, for a little while, I was actually concerned that I'd gotten him killed or something. Puckerman could have been an ally. I wouldn't have tried to touch him," Matt said.

"That's not all. The bastard daughter of Paul Karofsky, who just so happens to be the sister of Tina Cohen-Chang, Mercedes Jones' friend has also died. She hung herself, and according to Brittany, that's exactly how their mother died, years ago," Andrea said.

Matt began to type, furiously and tried to pull up the information. "Paul Karofsky's alleged murder seems to have overshadowed the suicide in the mental institution and the overdose at the rehab center."

"Think that they're connected?" Andrea wondered.

"There's some reason that people think that I sent Noah Puckerman a photograph that I don't even have. I didn't even know that Sam Evans was gone until Joe Hart told me, when he wanted me to cool down on the exposure. I think that I've been at Giselle's too long. I'm going to get back to my office. Can you try to get Aphasia to come in, tomorrow?" He asked.

"I'm sure that I can, but I can't believe that you actually are going to let somebody else inside of your net… especially when you can't be sure where she stands," Andrea said.

"Yeah, maybe I'm becoming a sucker in my old age," Matt deadpanned.

"Or, maybe you're starting to see that there's more to life than vengeance and bitterness," Andrea stated. He didn't respond, as he began to pack his things away, to move to the office.

Aphasia buzzed herself inside and took the directions that Andrea had given her, virtually anting to have an anxiety attack the entire walk. She found it extremely hard to believe that someone with Matt Rutherford's background would spend all of his time in a shady, shoddy place like this; but with the level of fierce obsession that he put into taking Sam down, it wasn't as inconceivable.

Matt was lying on his back, teetering on his laptop when she knocked on the door. Aphasia heard some shuffling about, then several locks being unlocked before the door opened and he let her inside. "Hey," she said. "This crazy apartment is your office?"

"Yeah. Most of my enemies are going to be upscale white people. They'll stand out in a place like this. They could get someone else to come into the neighborhood, but that exposes them to at least that person, and generally others who saw that person with an upscale white person. I know it seems paranoid." He stopped the statement right there. But, I don't care. But, that's the way it is. But – whatever. She could finish the statement, herself. This is the way it was for him. "I wanted to ask you some questions. I thought about what you said about me using you and thought that I should take some time to get to know you."

"So you can have some dirt on me?" She asked, jokingly, not stepping inside of the apartment. Matt noticed her reluctance and stepped outside. He sat on the floor, with his laptop on his lap and gave her a moment to join him. "What is it that you think you want to know?"

"You studied Jesse St. James for a long time… I'm discovering that even though I was closer to him than you ever were, it's possible that you knew him better than I did. I spent a few days at his home, with Giselle, working on your file, and I've been learning new things about him."

"So… this is not about me, at all, but about Jesse," she said.

"As hard as it may be to admit, Jesse is a huge part of your life. At least seven years of it were suffocated by what he did to you," Matt said. "For a guy to be able to hide something like that and snake his way out of it, on a high school level seems virtually unheard of. It seems like somewhere these guys would have been caught. So, I've been thinking about the facts – the St. James family is a wealthy philanthropist machine that has been funding politicians and causes for the past seven or eight generations. But, I look at Paul Karofsky, father of Dave Karofsky – he's a politician who got into the game shortly after my family was killed…" Matt maximized a tab and explained, "He had a liberal platform about equality and being against hate and all this other stuff. It was very convenient for him to be running, when he did. One of his greatest supporters? The St. James family. That doesn't seem weird to you? Didn't to me, either, because Dave and Jesse were like blood brothers in school… but guess who wasn't fond of the Karofsky's?" He maximized another tab and Aphasia looked at it. "Will Schuester," he said.

"Isn't he going to be the next governor of Ohio?" She asked.

"Maybe. He has good chances. But, I don't understand why he and Karofsky are always at odds with each other in the political world, when in personal, everyday life, they have many of the same friends, and some common links."

"Paul Karofsky never wins anything," Aphasia said, "Unless he's the only guy on the ticket."

"Exactly. Karofsky is never meant to win!" Matt said.

"I have no idea what you're trying to tell me," she said.

"The money that goes into his campaigns and elections and all of that is not for him to win, at all," Matt concluded. "These people intend for Karofsky to lose and I think that he himself intends to lose. I think that it is his job to make certain other people look good, by comparison." He wiped his face and said, "I just can't figure out why or why he would agree to that kind of position. I've uncovered a conspiracy and I think that Jesse might have had answers about it."

Aphasia admitted, "I don't know anything about that, Matt."

"You would've been stalking him during one of the election times. I guess, I'm wondering if he kept company with more than one opposing candidate, or…"

"This is not what people are designed for, Matt! To be used as your little playthings, so you can see if you can best the guy on the other side of the table!" She fussed, with tears in her eyes and pulled herself up to leave.

"Aphasia, wait," he called as he got up, too.

"Look, I know that we're two different people, but I felt like we connected and I felt like around me, you can somehow show that you are human and that you have lost, and that your life isn't just a series of moves in order to defeat everyone that you find responsible for the stuff tht's happened to you!" She was on the verge of crying as she fussed, "I get it, Matt. I understand. I have walked in your shows. No, I didn't lose my family, but I lost something very dear to me and I can't ever get it back, either. I wanted everyone to have to pay for it. I let it eat my life, too. But, you know what I wouldn't have done? I wouldn't have made victims out of other people in order to accomplish helping myself and I certainly was not going to open up to someone, pretend like they were significant enough for me to share with to turn around and make them into an instrument in my self-centered goals!"

Matt jumped in front of her to prevent her from walking away, but did not touch her. He'd already messed up, enough. He pointed a little ways down the hall and asked her, "Do you see her?" Aphasia turned her head. No one was there. "Because, I see her. I see her everyday and any time that she's there, she is looking right at me!" He said, angrily. He didn't mean to sound that, way – but that was how he felt when he remembered what happened to the little girl that he knew would have set the world on fire, had she been given the chance. "She was 8, and her life ended, not quick and easy, but in a terror drenched nightmare that I wouldn't wish upon anyone, but the people who did that to her!"

"How does she look?" Aphasia asked, in a small, soft voice.

Matt took a swallow and clenched his laptop tightly as he described, "She's covered in blood and urine. She's hardly recognizable; doesn't even look human, anymore for the way that they've beaten her. There's no life in her, even though she's looking right at me. She's dead and yet, she's still here… right there – looking at me, in pain."

Aphasia looked at the spot where the "ghost" lingered and said, "That's not what I see. I see beautifully colored ribbons in her hair, a smile that brightens the room and makes your heart warm, and eyes that sparkle like stars, because she's looking at you and she loves you so much!"

"You don't see sh*t," he said, angered.

"She's not there, but I do see her, Matt. I don't see her standing in the room. I see her in these (eyes)." She put her hands close to his face, but didn't touch him, as she continued, "Every time you think about how much you loved them, for that brief glimmer, before you think about how you lost them – I see her in your eyes and there is SO much love there that I find it hard to believe that you would want to replace that with something so dark, cold and hard. If she really is watching you, why not believe that she does it from a better place, and without any pain. Maybe the only pain that she feels when she sees you is the pain that you carry around." She backed away from him and tried to step around him, "If you keep on doing this to yourself, you do it to her memory, too. She still looks like that to you because you can't grant yourself peace of mind."

"Will you come with me?" He asked. Aphasia stopped and looked at him, "when I meet Sam Evans. I thought about what you said and maybe it would be good for somebody to be there. I can't think of anybody else that would be willing to do it for me."

"Andrea would be willing, and so would Anthony, I'm sure," Aphasia said. "Or did you go down your list of names alphabetically and they already had plans?" She joked. She turned and walked to him again and stood in front of him, "If I'm going to go with you, you need to tell me what you have planned. I can't be surprised, on the spot. And if you do that to me, after I've done nothing but try to be here for you, because I know that you need someone – not just someone to feed your fuel and follow your orders, but someone to listen and tell you what you need to hear – I'll be done with this. I'll be done with you and I'll take my chances at the truth of Jesse through the release of my tape."

"I need somebody like you around, Aphasia," he said.

"Tell me what you have planned," she told him.