On the Edge of Wakefulness, Part 2

Chapter 34

Light played with the carpet fibers beneath Jedediah's sneakers, making shadows with the chair legs and tables strewn about the small area of the meeting room in the pediatric psychiatric ward of Llanview's hospital. Jed jiggled his knee nervously and sighed dramatically, tipping his head back and staring at the rows of fluorescent lights and the cork-like ceiling. He scratched his neck in several short strokes.

"Mr. Chant why don't you tell the rest of the group YOUR goal for the month."

He rolled his eyes. God, this was a nightmare, he thought. His first day here and needless to say, he'd met with enough professionals to give him a headache and motivation for daydreaming about crawling out a vent to freedom. At the moment, however, he was trapped in a group substance abuse session with about nine other kids near his age all talking about goals. His goals ... were to see Summer again, have sex again in all sorts of positions... and ... and ...

"Jedediah?" Lauren Bloom was the leader of the group and her stocky body topped with short brownish hair made Jed think of female football. She had the energy of an entire team and could easily run anyone down who wasn't going to comply with her designated play. "You ought share a little with us," she urged, "... otherwise the next time, the session will be focused on just you. So come on, don't be a bench-sitter." Oh yeah, another thing that made him think of football was her incessant use of sports terminology. Shit ... he hated organized sports.

"Ooooo ... cat got his to-ongue ... big ole to-ongue," one of the younger girls sang, some of the other kids giggling. She looked to be fourteen. Acted about seven.

"Shut-up, stupid," one of the boys snapped at the singing girl. He looked about Jed's age. Acted about seven.

"Oooo ... who you callin' stupid, Stupid?"

"Whatever ... SHIT ..." Jedediah burst out, making a face at the pony-tailed heckler. "My goal is to get outta here, ride my bike 'cross country and never come back."

"Point for you, Mr. Chant ... I think that's a great goal. Being on your own is exactly what we want for all of you. What about you, David?"

Leaning forward, Jed buried his face in his hands, blocking out the rest of everyone's bullshit goals. Ok, in all honesty, what he wanted was to go back to the Penthouse. He'd been having some decent times there, Téa and him ... they were getting to know each other and it felt great. Almost like a home, and Summer ...

Kicking at the carpet, he let himself get lost in a memory of her, a walk they had taken into some rough areas of Llanview looking for Todd. So funny how she'd accommodated Jed's search. That was the thing about her, she listened to him and with the experience she had, she always wanted to help. At least try ... Summer got him, completely understood how he thought and what he wanted. She'd look at him with that serious expression he loved ... and she'd nod, point a finger in the air and say, "You know what, I know somebody ..."

So this one time, they walked into the dark of the city, ambling into drug-infested neighborhoods, the worst. After giving up on Todd, they came across a motley group of kids, all of them whooping it up at seeing Summer and her now-pink hair. She laughed and gave them pats and hugs ... and she and Jedediah hung out with them a while, smoking weed, cracking jokes, bullshitting. And where were they? In some alleyway behind an abandoned factory. Tall building, busted out windows ... wrecked concrete and metal. The light the kids used, the heat in the dead of winter? A small bonfire, the moon, lights from the city.

It was sublime. Jed got high just from being there, from the freedom of it. The kids were cool to him, too. They talked about how they managed on the streets, Jed gave suggestions 'cause he knew some stuff. Then ... he and Summer wandered away, still stoned from being out, from the weed ... and ended up making love on the floor of that filthy factory on top of their coats ... and it was like heaven. In the midst of hell, he was in heaven.

He kicked the carpet a bit too hard, catching the attention of Lauren. "What's wrong, Mr. Chant? Hmm?"

Looking up, he realized the room had quieted. He shrugged, fought a sudden rush of hurt and he had no idea where it was coming from. "It's all fucked."

"What is?"

"This, everything. Fucked."

"You got that right," someone chimed in. "I worked real hard last year on my equiv'lancy and the shit didn't fly so now I's gotta take it again. Like the man says, it's FUCKED."

"Well maybe if you'd learn English you could PASS, STUPID."

"SHUT-UP, bitch!"

Lauren intervened, "All right, that's enough. Jedediah's a little bit upset and it's our job, all our job, to kinda help him figure out WHY."

One of the girls sighed, she was about Jed's age. One of the quieter ones. She asked carefully, "What were you thinking about when you were stomping away just now?"

"Good question, Cheryl!"

One of boys groaned at Lauren's over-enthusiasm and it made Jed smile slightly. He looked up, though, looked across the open circle at Cheryl and said, "My girlfriend. I don't know when I'm gonna see her again ... and ... uh ... yeah. It's stupid."

"No, it ain't," a boy added. He was around fifteen and had long dread-locks even though he wasn't African-American. "It's cool to have that kinda love. And bein' here ... taken away from it, it's hard. It hurts."

"'Less the love is of the hurting kind of love," Cheryl argued.

"What do you mean by that, Cheryl?" Lauren asked.

"I mean ... I have a boyfriend and he likes to beat on me. But I still love him ... and he loves me. But it's probably a good thing I'm here and he's out there."

A couple of the other kids agreed and the room took a pause, there not being much to argue with. Nobody to call, "stupid".

Lauren pushed the issue, "What other kinds of love are not a good thing? Cheryl said an abusive romantic relationship is bad ... what else?"

Someone giggled, a young girl named Jane who came from money. "Like, the obvious!" she laughed, "We all love drugs and ... uh ... they're not good for us!"

Everyone joined in with their own laughter and high-fives went around the room, jokes popping off. Jedediah sulked, however... then interrupted the group, saying firmly, "Loving a person in your life who doesn't love you back. That's a fucked up kinda love."

A hush fell over the group, the jokes stopping, the laughs ending, and Lauren nodded her head at Jedediah, smiling softly at him. "Yeah," she agreed, "that kind of love hurts. Who doesn't love you back, hon?"

Jedediah rubbed his hair and shrugged ... sat quietly ... shrugged again. Someone in the group started to sniffle, cry. Jed had to work hard not to. Couldn't believe how close the pain was to the surface. God ... he couldn't answer, simply looking at Lauren. He looked at the carpet, his shoes ... looked at his jeans and the back of his hand with remnants of an ink tattoo ... goofing around with Summer ... a large "S" intertwined with a "J"... silly ... Lauren waited, saying nothing. Patted the whimpering girl next to her because Jedediah was on stage so to speak.

"Too many people to count," he said softly, two heavy tears rolling down his cheeks.

Lauren said, "Can you name one? Start with one."

Jed shrugged, spat without thinking much, "My grandparents who raised me?"

"What did they do to make you think they didn't love you?"

He thought a second, shrugged again, scratched at his chest, pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek ... said, "They lied ... and ..." He paused at a realization that suddenly appeared. He took a breath, glanced at staring eyes around him. Looked at Lauren. "And uh ... I'm in here ... hundreds of miles away from them ... and they ... uh ... don't care. They let me stay with people they don't know and ... uh ... don't give a damn."

Jedediah sighed in disbelief. His GRANDPARENTS ... about whom he supposedly didn't give a shit ... and for whom ... he did everything he could to be sure they knew how much he hated THEM ... and it was actually hurting that he was saying what he was saying. It hurt ... GOD ... it hurt that they didn't CARE. The tears began to come easier and he slid down a little in his seat and kicked at the carpet again and wanted to run away to the mountains like he used to and ride his bike fast down the curvy roads with the wind in his hair and the speed thrilling him ... and ... it really hurt.

It was true, though, they hadn't made any attempts to pull him home to West Virginia. They hadn't called, they hadn't come charging to Llanview with lawyers in hand to drag him back. He didn't even remember the last time they had hugged him ... or even smiled at him. He was their shame ... he was Michelle's shame. He was trash to be frowned upon and tossed away ...

It hurt like hell.

Cheryl with the taped glasses and the light hair in a long braid came over and put her arms around Jedediah and he let himself be held by this stranger and he rocked with her as he sobbed into her ... and shockingly let out pain he never even knew existed. People he thought he hated ... on some level he loved. There had been moments of admiration, moments where he'd run to Beatrice, when he was afraid and Mimi wasn't around. She'd try to respond. But would ultimately reject him. He remembered loving these biscuits she made and he'd want to help her make them ... to whisk the eggy stuff and make a mess with the flour and just plain old stand next to the tall woman who sort of looked like Mimi, and she'd let him but soon he'd be shooed away. He'd ask Charles to read to him because he so wanted to hear that booming voice read ... and he'd get it sometimes but more often than not he'd be shooed away ... and it all hurt. And after Mimi disappeared ... he'd get so scared at night being alone without her, afraid FOR her ... and he'd run to their bed. But they'd kick him out, telling him he was too big to do that, too big ... too old. He guessed at that time that if he was too old to be loved by parents, then he was too old for their rules, too old for their house ... too old to respect them.

And it hurt. Loads.

Lauren smiled and nodded her head ... and looked around at the room at all the children who knew exactly how Jed felt. Some cried with each other ... most just sat quiet. Getting it. "Good, hon ... you did good," she said. "A definite score for you."

The Llanview Police department buzzed with furious work, paper pushing and conversation, as early evening plugged along; a few people were being booked on various charges, a woman cried about her missing child to a sympathetic officer, and an elderly man complained about police brutality.

The one place of stillness could be found in Bo Buchanan's office. There, Sam Rappaport and Viki Carpenter were desperately trying to tear through the Commissioner's usual stoicism to learn the reason behind his cruelty to Jedediah and Todd. At first, he had seemed unmoved and unwilling. But then after a long silence, surprisingly gentle eyes met Sam and Viki. He sighed heavily and cleared his throat.

"You're right. I was cruel, but..."

Sam and Viki glanced at each other then back at Bo who shuffled through a file and pulled out a photograph. He slid it across the desk, silently.

Sam reluctantly gazed at the bloody picture, noting how little was left of the skull, of the face. "What the hell is this?"

"A drug deal gone bad, maybe, a deal ... gone bad. The kid was known to his friends as 'BB,' a young man just turned eighteen ... a real problem."

"And your point is?" Sam snapped.

"This kid's the one who attacked Jedediah at Juvie, and most likely Phillip Manning killed him for NOT getting to Jed. The guy's getting tired of games and now … is totally out of control. Maybe I was wrong for what I did last night, but ... I wanted Jed to realize the trouble he's in, to get the danger of his-"

"Of his being lost?" Viki said.

"Yes," Bo answered firmly. "By seeing Manning exactly as he was brought in, not cleaned up, not made pretty, I wanted him to see ... everything. I wanted to shock him where I know it hurts ... through his father."

"But I don't know how that accomplished anything other than further alienating Jedediah," Viki snapped.

"I accomplished what I wanted. You think that boy is going to jump into his drug use again? At least ... without thinking about it? You think he's going to leave Todd's side with me as the common enemy against him AND Todd?"

Sam pulled out a seat and sat down in front of Bo, "Before I disagree with your absurd explanation ... how do you know Phillip Manning did this killing?"

"Fingerprints. He's not hiding anything."

"Where is Manning now? Do you even know?"

"In hiding ... won't be for long, though. I think he's feeling cornered, I think he's going to surface again with even more deadly consequences. But we're getting close. We've been tailing someone we know Phillip Manning has been involved with. Hoping to pick up that guy up today." Sam and Viki shared a glance. Bo then added, "And ... 'cause of all that, I want Jedediah to stay locked up until Phillip Manning's caught. I think my being tough helped my goal."

"No!" Sam argued, "I don't see it that way! All I see is that you've angered him and ... like Viki says, you've alienated him. You might have made him even more eager to leave, more devious in his plans to get OUT. And who knows, he might take Todd with him when he splits. So we'll lose two people instead of one."

Sniffling, Bo then sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. "Well, what I did bound him to Todd ...yeah ... I knew that would happen and since I'm going to make sure Todd's stuck in that locked facility for a while, I'm banking on the fact that Jed might not be so willing to disappear."

"Oh Bo ..." Viki said.

"I'm also hoping that Todd ... well, that he might get Jedediah to stick around, too." Bo pulled the picture of the downed teenager back to himself, ran his fingers across the image in front of him. Quieted a few seconds.

"You have no idea how sick this Phillip Manning is," he said in a low tone. "He killed the boy and then sat next to that body eating the rest of the kid's lunch ... left the garbage behind. An animal." He sat back and then glanced at Viki. Rubbed his eyes again. "I'm sorry about your brother, truly I am. I know you care about him ... and ... I ... when I ... saw him, I don't know, I ... thought about Rachel and her drug habit, I saw Jedediah as such a smart kid, with so much potential ... and ... it was all I could think of to do. Shock him ... something. I'm not perfect. I did what I thought was right."

Sam seemed to ease up on Bo, his demeanor softening. He crossed his legs, leaning back into the chair ... mimicking Bo's position. "Bring me up to speed on Todd's legal situation," he said.

"Well ... he's under suspicion for that assault ... but ... admittedly, Téa is a weak link and the victim being an escaped con from Statesville doesn't help either. Uh ... there's another claim on the record ... a beating reported by an older man. Happened on Sixteenth and the description of the assailant matches Todd. What struck me specifically was that the victim said he was kicked repeatedly by a long-haired guy who happened to wear these unique kind of boots ... just like Todd's. But ... it's weak as well. The guy is wanted on misdemeanor sex crimes, flashing, peeping Tom sorta stuff. So what we're left with is his psychiatric evaluation ... which won't take place until he's better physically. We're looking at least a couple of weeks... not too long, but hopefully enough time to help Jed and ... catch up to Phillip Manning."

"No drugs or paraphernalia were found on Todd, right? So no drug charges?"

Bo shook his head, the movement itself tinged with regret. "Nope, no drug charges which means no forced rehab. Any recovery program will have to be voluntary unless it's part of a formal mental health treatment plan due to the results of the psychiatric evaluation."

Sam stood up abruptly, anxious. Paced. "I don't get how this Phillip Manning can be running around so damn openly."

"He's a skilled evader."

"Right ... aren't they all?" At that, Sam picked up his briefcase, grabbed his coat and then gave one last searing glare at Bo, "Your plan better have worked. Jed better be staying put, keeping close to his daddy. If not, I'm coming after you and this entire department. Mark my words. Viki, I'll be in touch."

He stormed out of the office, a flurry of movement as he made his way towards the exit. Bo let out a sigh and studied Viki as she gathered her belongings preparing to leave. "You still angry with me?" he asked.

"Yes, yes I am. I will never buy your explanation for your conduct and I don't believe you were that pure of heart. I don't know where your anger comes from but I'm very sorry that a young man got caught up in it. I can only hope that what you did, plays out like you say it will."

"Viki, I meant what I said. I was deeply bothered by Manning, his condition. I'm no fan, but… one thing he never was, was… hopeless. What I saw in that hospital room was an end I never would have predicted."

She eyed him, "He's a victim of severe abuse. He covered up a lot in his… hopefulness. You didn't predict this because you never saw him."

"And you did?"

"Yes, I did. I knew deep inside he was kindred. And I hoped like hell I was wrong. Banked on my being wrong. But I wasn't."

Bo said nothing as Viki stepped out of the office and disappeared into a sea of uniformed officers. Admitted to himself that hell yes, he was still angry at Todd for what he'd done to Nora all those years ago, and in that anger, he blamed him for Phillip Manning's very existence. Ridiculous, he knew. But his entire family had been publicly humiliated by the revelation of their involvement with Phillip's dirty business.

But he didn't lie either. Bo felt bad for the kid, for Todd. He himself was shocked when he ripped that sheet away. When he saw all the damage. For all his anger, all his hatred, when he saw Manning's bare body, he realized the person who hated Todd the most, was Todd. Bo couldn't take back the show he'd put on so all he did was hope Jedediah would learn something. He glanced at the photo again of BB...

All at once, there was a commotion outside the office and he casually raised his head to check out the excitement. Lead detective popped in, saying, "We got Risley Moran ... aka Paulie Smith in custody ... and he's stinkin' mad. I think we got our connection to Phillip Manning, just like you wanted, boss."

"Fantastic. Get him into interrogation."

The hospital was quiet now, no surprise at one-o'clock in the morning. Even the emergency room seemed to have mellowed out with its voices muted, its steps softened. Téa moved slowly from the lobby of the hospital to the long rambling hallway with the meeting rooms and artwork, stopping at each print to absorb the piece of life it reflected. When she left the makeshift gallery, she couldn't help but pass the nursery to peek in on the newborn babies. Full house with twelve blue and pink bundles.

A nurse smiled at her through the glass and Téa mouthed back, "So cute." She wondered whether she would ever have one of her own. Hoped so ... how precious they were, nestled in those bassinets, wrapped up so tightly ... sleeping bits of perfection.

She herself had tried to sleep back at the Penthouse, but couldn't. After an exhausting day helping Kyle and Sister Rachel and everyone else at the shelter ... after spending time at the needle exchange doing paperwork, she'd gone home and babied a cup of hot tea and cookies, hoping sleep would ease her worn heart. Before settling under covers, she made a call to Jedediah and he sounded all right, handling things as best he could under the circumstances. The good thing was that he was taken care of. People in the pediatric ward loved those kids, that was for sure. She'd dialed the nurses' station to check on Todd, but hung up before anyone answered. She'd dialed Tim ... but couldn't go through with the call ... didn't want to know.

"I'm so burnt out," she had told Kyle. "I'm too tired. He needs others ... he needs ... divine intervention." A joke ... at Kyle's expense. He'd understood, offering comparable tales and allegory. So after the tea, after the sweets, after the telephone tug of war, she tried to watch television, tried to watch a movie, one that was funny. Only she couldn't laugh. She had paced the Penthouse at last and then finally lay down ... only to end up dreaming of her time in Brandy's place, feeling his heat next to her, braiding his hair, smelling that God-forsaken, heroin-reminding vanilla soap on him. His eyes with the pinprick pupils ... why were they always looking at her, searching? Was it just for love, for devotion? What did he ultimately want from her?

Do you love me this way? Do you love me ... Téa?

The emotional cage which held her spirit shuddered in her mind. He rattled that lock, reminding her of his power over her.

"Damn it!" she had cursed, giving up on sleep. She had gotten dressed at that point, cleaned up to go on her own search.

So here she was, walking the winding hallways of the hospital, heading to his floor. Heading to his room. Couldn't yet release her tormentor, couldn't yet GET released ... maybe she needed to see him one more time, face his refusal to give up drugs, his refusal to help himself. THEN maybe she could shake away the bars of her entrapment.

Exactly, that's what she needed to do. Of course ... it's an obvious solution. See the damage, see the reluctance ... and she could move on.

When she got off the elevator, she had to pause to wipe her perspiration-wet palms on her jeans, to press her tummy as it jumped with anxiety.

Try to fly, clipped-wing girl, try to run. Let me see you bump up against the bars overhead, let me see you play with the latch at the entrance ... let me see you cry at the door, pleading with me, begging me. Yeah ... then kiss me with your pain through the barrier, put your lips to mine and we'll share the hurt ... taste it, love it, hate it ... yeah.

A police officer sat outside the room with a newspaper in his hand, giving her immediate assurance that things were still the same. He hadn't been transferred, hadn't died, hadn't murdered anyone. He glanced up and gave Téa an inquiring look.

"I'd like to check on him," she said. "I'll only stay a short while. You can frisk me if you want ..." She smiled slightly. The cop twisted his mouth in consideration, looking at his watch. Chewed on the gum as he gave her an up-and-down appraisement.

"You carrying a purse somewheres?"

Téa shook her head, "No. Just keys in my pocket." She pulled out a set of keys. Jangled them.

"It's kinda late, visiting hours are over."

"I'm an attorney. I've represented him in several matters. I'm also his wife."

"Ohhhhh... sorry. Your name's ..." He reached below the seat and pulled up a sheet of paper with writing on it. "Téa Delgado Manning ... or are you Blair?"

She chuckled, dropping her head then glancing back up at the cop. "Lots of wives he has ..."

"Yeah ... mystery to me. No offense, ma'am, but he's got a bad history, this one."

"I'm Téa."

"Got any i.d.?"

"No," she sighed. "Just the keys. And the fact that I'm here at this hour. I mean, who else would bother?"

The cop regarded her again, then snapped his gum and made a motion with head, "Go on in ... it's your life."

"Thank you."

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door to the room. She hesitated, thought of turning and leaving. But something pushed her ... or pulled her, she didn't know which, and she went ahead and stepped in. At the sight of him, she put her hand to her mouth, suppressing an intense ache in her soul and a rush of tearfulness. Todd appeared to be sleeping. He was halfway sitting up on the bed, supported by pillows. The bed's mattress was cranked up to make sure he wasn't lying flat. He was quite uncovered, a sheet covering only his hips, his gown pushed off of him, exposing his chest and arms, and his legs were bare. Nakedness again. She glanced away, still not used to seeing his body. How strong he looked anyway, how imposing… the color, the musculature, his particular build. Her hands ached to touch him, to know him.

She returned to his peaceful self. Strands of damp hair had come loose from what looked to be a careless ponytail. His lips parted in apparent peaceful slumber, and he breathed noisily. There were some ice packs sitting on a table by the bed, a cup of water and a matching pitcher. A container of juice. Hospital standard ware.

Téa moved closer to him, watched him a while. She got brave and lightly touched his shoulder, wincing at how hot he felt, which explained why he was mostly undressed. With the back of her hand, she caressed his chest, moving to his cheek, shaking her head sadly. He didn't move at her touch, didn't even flinch. Too many hands on him, she figured, what's a few more?

"Oh Todd...," she sighed. "Tan triste, eh?"

She sat on a chair next to him, stared at his face, at his closed eyes. Thought of that cage again ... except this time, she saw herself on the inside with the door open and him crawling to her. She could feel their being drawn to each other, could feel the hardness of the metal beneath her, behind her. Trapped, yes ... but not alone.

I'm here, Delgado ... you scared? You ready for me, for my fury, for my ... aliveness?

"Sure, I'm ready, Todd. The question is, are you?"

No ... there was no pulling away from him, no getting away. There was no chance that she could voluntarily cut that rope to which they both clung in desperation ... caught between a choice of joint death or murder to survive.

"I guess something finally brought you to your knees. I guess you couldn't fight hard enough for your damned independence. Couldn't fight that history." She sniffed in irony. "My husband ... my raging lion ... always so alive and out there ... wild. Dios mio ... how much I still love you. You're not surprised, though. I bet you're getting in a good laugh. Bet you know that this morning I was done with you. I said there isn't anything left. I said you drained me of every ounce of strength and love and ... it's just gone. There's ... nothing left. That's what I said, Todd. I shouted it! I shook my fist at fate and said, it's true! There's nothing ... left." She smiled slightly ... "I bet you're lying on the ground kicking your legs in the air like a kid and laughing your head off, huh? I just bet ..."

Someone poked a head in the door and then slipped into the room fully. A dark-haired nurse with delicate Asian features. She tiptoed around Téa, smiling sweetly. She was so pretty and for a second, Téa inwardly thought how Todd HAD to be happy to have so many pretty women fussing over him.

"Hello," the nurse then said. "The policeman told me you were here ... so I brought you something of your husband's that should not stay. Someone might take it." She reached into her pocket, pulled out a tiny envelope and handed it to Téa. "This was tied to his clothes. To a belt loop ..." She smiled again, shy. "It must be very important."

When Téa opened the envelope and peered inside, she dropped her hands to her lap, taking a pained breath.

"Thank you," she said. "I recognize it. Thanks."

The nurse then offered, "He's running a very high temperature. The pneumonia. Very hard on the body. I put the ice packs under his arms ... and he threw them down." She shook her head in mock chastisement. "Very stubborn man! But that's good." She winked. "The stubborn ones, they get better, quicker. I leave you, now. Remember ... try the ice packs under his arms. And if he wakes, see that he drinks the juice." She left just as hushed as she had come in, just as quickly.

His wedding ring ... she picked it out of the envelope and watched it twirl on the string, the light from the low lights glinting off the gold. Tied to his clothing? My GOD, Téa thought. She didn't want to think how that came about, why. It was too painful. Even the thought of the nurse finding it on him and cutting the string ... she shuddered with emotion at the picture of it.

Téa then untied the string and tossed it. Went ahead and strung the ring onto her own chain around her neck, their two rings now lying next to the other. She got to her feet and picked up one of the ice packs, gingerly placing it under one arm. He didn't budge, so she took the other one, reaching over him. She didn't see him open his eyes to her, didn't see him bite his lip to stay silent. She placed the second pack under his other arm, patted it. Straightened up again.

"Stubborn man." She sat down and touched his hand carefully. Adjusted the sheet that lay on his hips because too much skin was exposed. And hadn't he had enough exposure?

"Love is boundless, you know ... love is ... perfect. Round and round it goes, never ending. That's why a ring is gifted between brides and grooms, between lovers. Because it's a circle with no beginning and no end. There's always something left for someone you love. Even if it's ... a teardrop in an ocean ... a drop of rain in a storm. There's always ... something there."

She caressed the rings. Perfect circles. He moved and grimaced, a faint grunt coming from him.

"It's okay, I'm here, Todd. I'll be here a long time. I might walk away, might turn my back on you ... and scream at you ... and get really angry at you. I might even say terrible things... like, 'Stop hurting yourself,' like, 'Open your eyes to what you're doing,' like ... 'Let go of your pain,' ..."

Tears came despite her efforts.

"I might hold onto you and demand you to explain to me how this is better than real love. How ..." She lightly ran her fingers along his arm, following the track marks. "I might demand that you explain how THIS is better than what your family can offer you, than what your children can offer you. But you have to know it's because I love you. I love you more than anything I've ever known. EVER. Perfectly, loudly, endlessly. I will be here for you, no matter what you ever do. Maybe not as a lover… but as someone who loves you." She raised her hands slightly in a kind of exasperation, more at herself than at him. "I'm going to go now. I'll be back in the morning ... late morning ..."

She got up again, lay her hand gently on his arm and leaned down to press her lips to his cheek, let herself feel him that way.

"You sleep," she said tearfully, "... you rest ... and I'll see you tomorrow." But just as she started to pull away, his hand gripped her wrist and he shot open his eyes, startling her. He glared at her with shining eyes, glimmering with sickness. They held each other this way, not moving.

"Don't you go," he whispered raggedly. "Don't you fuckin' walk outta here ..."

"Todd ..." she said, trying to get away, resulting in his grabbing her tighter. Then she weakened, said his name again ... sighed and flashed the smallest of suddenly bitter grins at him. "Can I take that as an ... 'I love you, too,'? Huh… baby?" He only stared at her harder, bit down on his teeth.

Téa then mimicked Brandy, leaned in close to him and whispered fiercely, "What you want?"

You ready for me, Delgado? You ready for my ... aliveness?

To be continued…