Thanks so much for your patience! And of course to my reviewers, I have the next chapter written but I'll put it up right before Christmas as a gift to you. This particular chapter is dedicated to my increasingly avid reviewer Dementia who has been pestering me nonstop, and I just had to end the madness. I'm sorry for torturing you so. ENJOY!

She's never pulled anyone from a burning building
She's never rocked Central Park to a half a million fans, screaming out her name
She's never hit a shot to win the game
She's never left her footprints on the moon
She's never made a solo hot air balloon ride, around the world,
No, she's just your everyday average girl (but)

She's somebody's hero
A hero to her baby with a skinned up knee
A little kiss is all she needs
The keeper of the cheerios
The voice that brings Snow White to life
Bedtime stories every night
And that smile lets her know
She's somebody's hero

~She's Somebody's Hero by Jaime O'Neal

To say that I value my sleep is a massive understatement. The moment Veidt's chauffeur dropped me off safely back home I immediately crawled under the covers in my usual bedtime attire of undies and a wife beater. On the verge of slumber, I was rudely jostled awake by a firm swat to the face by my loathsome feline companion.

I glared at him through the dark. "Does fatty want food?" Devil-cat only replied with a rumbling purr. I realized right away that he wasn't ever going to give me a moment's peace unless I fed him and I reluctantly pulled myself out of bed. It was all just as well, for the moment my feet hit the floor the phone rang.

Coughing the sleep from my voice, I answered. "LaBelle residence, home of the world's smallest meth lab. Jack speaking."

It was mother, oh irony. "Now child, I know I raised you to use your manners better than that." Robyn LaBelle scolded in her heavy New Orleans accent.

"Oh, Robyn, you know I'm no advocate for proper phone etiquette."

"And on top of that, you haven't called your poor mother in nearly a month." She retorted.

I cleared my throat again, brainstorming for a tactful way to break the news to her. "I've uh, been a little disoriented; I was in an accident last week-"

"-Last week? And you didn't tell me? Are you hurt, baby?"

"Just a little banged up. My hearing is a bit damaged in one ear too."

"And the car?"

"To shit. I have to call Angel tomorrow about repairs." I gave her a summary of the damages and what had happened at the intersection that day. "And the man in the other car had to make me go to the hospital after I started talking like a senile old woman."

She snorted. "That's no different from any other day."

Everything that is wrong with me, I inherited form my mother: small stature, sharp tongue, lack of censorship, and of course, a chemical imbalance. My brothers were a bit luckier in the genetic lottery; all tall and good-looking with no mental disabilities to speak of. Despite all this I sincerely love her- defects and all.

"You'll never guess who hit me."

"You're right. Tell me."

"Adrian Veidt."

"That's bull." She said flatly.

"Believe what you want but it's true. Mom, he paid my hospital bill and then we had tea together." There was a long silent pause on her end and I thought our connection had been dropped. "Mother?"

"Why on earth did you have tea with him?"

"Did you not hear me? He paid my bill, no strings attached! It's a friggin' miracle! The tea was just his way of apology. I might see him again sometime."

"Well sweetie, as long as you use a condom."

"HOLY SHIT MOTHER. TOO MUCH."

"Calm down I'm just looking out for you." She said dismissively. "Anyway, I called with a purpose. Your father's broken his leg this afternoon and we just got back from the hospital."

I gasped. "Poor little Daddy. How's he feeling? Can I talk to him?"

Mom cleared her throat. "Well's he's all tuckered out, poor thing- fell asleep on the couch as soon as we got in. Honey, I don't think we'll be able to come and visit this month."

"Do you need me to come down there and help out?"

"Gracious no, we'll be alright. You'll come down for Thanksgiving, right darlin'?"

Tiredly I agreed to the postponement and bid my mother a good night. But before I returned to my beloved bed, I was sure to feed Lucifer and disconnect the phone.

Work the next day was painfully slow. It was Alexis's day off, and Vince couldn't get anyone to cover for her, so I was stuck running back and forth between the register and the back room. All I could think about was calling Angel to fix my baby and whether or not Adrian would really meet me in the next few days.

When I got home I discovered another floral arrangement- lilies this time- and still from an anonymous sender. One those were taken care of I finally called Angel.

"Well? Does it sound fixable to you?" I asked after describing the extent of the damage.

Angel's thick Latino accent made it difficult to understand him over the phone, but he was certainly loud enough to hear and he barked a derisive laugh. "Jhu're kidding me right? There ain't nothing I can't fix, baby."

Dumb question. "I knew I could count on you. How's Lisbet and the kids?"

"Eh, they're beautiful as ever. Lisa's planning their Halloween costumes right now. I've never seen her so essited."

I imagined a tiny, young, frantic Latina fussing in Spanish over her toddler's pumpkin costumes. "Too cute." I laughed. "Hey man, I gotta go. Call me when you get it done."

Another day passed by and still no word from Adrian. I never would have admitted it, but I couldn't help but feel a little let down, if not really, really stupid. It must have been something I said to put him off like this. I was so dumb to think that he was being anything but polite- I mean I'd offered to show him toys for Pete's sake! There were days when I was proud to be different if not a little crazy, but today I felt like the biggest weirdo in the land of New York City.

"Lame-ass!" I cried, and buried my face into a throw pillow.

"I beg your pardon, are you talking to me?" Claudia said, clearly offended.

I looked down at her and Virgil miserably. "Sorry ya'll. Forgot you were here."

Virgil tilted his head in sympathy and grabbed my hand. "Hard day, huh?"

"Hard Day." I affirmed, gently giving his hand a squeeze.

After a while I realized that I just needed to get out of the house and go anywhere. Just anywhere but here. "I'm going to the store to pick up some milk. Don't break anything while I'm gone."

The two exchanged a surreptitious glance, and then looked back at me. "No promises." Claudia said slyly.

At the store, I gave in to my weakness for children's snacks and bought a box of goldfish with the half gallon of milk. Sometimes I eat my sadness away, like most women. It's a sad fact, but it happens.

Closing in on the checkout line, a tap on the shoulder diverted me from my goal. Warily I turned to find Chelsea Webb standing in front of the cosmetics aisle with her own purchases of nail polish, black mascara, and some fat-free drink that I'd never dream of touching.

"Oh, Chelsea, hi."

Hew ruby red lips spread into a pretty smile. "Jack! It's so funny, I was just thinking about you! Hey listen, I was supposed to call you yesterday for Mr. Veidt, but it completely went over my head. Do you have a minute to get that out of the way?"

Shamelessly elated to know that I hadn't been forgotten, I couldn't stop the big, stupid grin from growing on my face. God, I had some abandonment issues. "Yes ma'am, I have a minute." I said cheerily.

"Ma'am? Oh Jack, your Southern is showing." Chelsea giggled, since that's what Chelsea does. "Mr. Veidt's schedule is pretty full for the next few days, but he has a few hours this Thurday from 5 p.m. to eight. Every other day is unavailable till the 22nd."

I blinked, impressed that she had all this memorized so easily. "Sounds like Mr. Veidt needs a day off. The 22nd will do though. I'll keep it open."

Honestly, it felt totally unhealthy to arrange a friendly appointment so meticulously. Somebody needed a little spontaneity, and fast.

XxXxXxX

Alone in his office, Adrian Veidt sat quietly leafing through a manila folder. It was very late, and all employees had gone home save for security and the night janitor. But hey wouldn't bother him up here, which is precisely how he wanted it.

The folder on his desk was surprisingly thick- it contained birth certificates, transcripts from kindergarten through high school, insurance papers, extracurricular activities (he was surprised to learn she had excelled in ballet for twelve years), but the majority of the papers was her medical record. Jacquelyn Adelaide Carolina LaBelle had been hospitalized three times in a Louisiana mental hospital for attempted suicide in 1974, reasons unknown. Her family moved to New York just three months after her release and although her parents returned to the south, Jack stayed behind and worked. She regularly saw the same shrink for nine years years up until just four months ago.

"What am I to make of you Jack?" Veidt said aloud.

It's no exaggeration to say that everyone has their secrets- himself included- but the darkest of paths, the dreaded periods of misery and despair belong to the most unsuspecting people. Jack's ever-shifting demeanor between endearing insanity and off-putting indifference was nothing more than a mask, like the one he once wore years ago. Despite the charade he admired her character. He even found himself wanting to be in her presence, thoroughly happy with their friendship. He had few real friends- certainly Jon and Dan Dreiburg- but the ties weren't strong in the least. Even someone who struggled with human relations as he did could recognize that. He neatly stacked the papers back in the folder and placed it in a drawer.

Perhaps it was time to change that.