On the Edge of Wakefulness

Chapter 11

Sam Rappaport sat in the hallway of Llanview Courthouse waiting for the ten o'clock hearing on Carlotta Vega's diner. He flipped through his notes and prepared to get slaughtered by Judge Campbell. But the slaughter wouldn't get far when Campbell heard about his very own bribery scheme.

First up though: a petition objecting to Todd's forced hospitalization. Even though Todd needed psychiatric help, it wasn't right to further sully his criminal record by showing a violation of probation. That, he didn't need.

The press arrived. Reporters from the Sun, the Banner, and other outlying papers waited like vultures. Sam ran his fingers along the edge of the large cardboard diagram leaning against the bench on which he sat, a needed visual of the scam in ghastly detail. Nothing would be final today but an investigation would be kicked off. The Federal Bureau of Investigation would be contacted among a myriad of other agencies. Today was doomsday for Judge Campbell, the entire Buchanan family and Wormwood & Associates. Thoughts of Todd drifted in and out.

Again. As always.

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. Nora Buchanan's. She smiled at him, saying, "Hey you. Been a little worried. You haven't returned my calls."

Sam gave her a half-smile back with a nod of his head at her, noting, still, how pretty he found her. His heart skipped a beat to see her next to him. He had an ache though, too, because she was about to find out Bo's involvement in the bribery scheme.

For a moment, Sam was distracted by an unattractive man with short stubby hair trying to open the locked door of the courtroom. He glanced around and left. Sam focused only on Nora now. "Well, I've been working up an objection to the condemnation of Carlotta Vega's diner."

"That's wonderful-"

"Nora, I found out some things about this that you should be aware of. You may not want to talk to me again."

As they spoke, people milled around the halls, shuffling their feet and flipping through papers. Several glanced at the two people on the bench outside Courtroom "D", one even noting to herself that the redheaded lawyer was crying when she got up to leave. Sam was left behind. The doors to the courtroom suddenly flew open and the bailiff shouted, "Court's open!"

When the doctor returned to his patient's room, he hoped Todd was resting on his own but no such luck. He had deteriorated significantly. Too much remembering, too much sharing, all in a very short time period. He was hunched over in the chair and Viki was on the bed, talking to him in a low voice. He appeared slightly disoriented, his eyes unfocused, and he was biting his thumbnail. He pulled his sweat jacket close and rubbed his hair back away from his face. Tim listened to Viki as he watched them, evaluating his next move. She looked at her hands as she spoke, occasionally looking up at Todd. He did not look at her.

"It wasn't easy to deal with those things, it still isn't. I have dreams and memories sometimes. A sound, a smell, all work as triggers. But I try to focus on who I am, on who I've become. And I think I'm all right this way. I'm not perfect, but I look at my children, at the Banner, and I think, you didn't get me after all, Daddy. I'm still here."

Tim walked toward them, knowing Viki's history. During some of their earlier consultations about Todd, she talked about her battle with Dissociative Identity Disorder and her recovery. He was glad Todd was leaning on her. But he was concerned for Viki's own well-being. To hear such trauma could be wounding.

"How are you two doing?" Tim studied his patient.

"Well, I've just been talking away," Viki said, without looking at Tim. "He was calm, but then, something bothered him and now he's quite agitated."

"Todd, can you tell me what you're upset about?"

Viki didn't get a chance to answer, Todd rasping, "Is Jedediah mine? Is he?"

Tim battled whether to couch the issue or lay it out, hearing his patient's anxiety. It didn't take long to make up his mind. "Kevin Buchanan doesn't have any doubt. Jedediah has the same rare blood type as you, he looks like you, claims his mother is Michelle, and he's exactly the right age. The only thing left is a paternity test."

"Fine, do it, whatever you have to do ..."

"Alright, we'll take care of it. You don't need to give a blood sample since we already have some. Now, Viki and I are going to step out so you can get washed up. Ok?"

At first, Todd did not react. Then, he focused on his doctor, hearing his voice and trying to make sense of the words. He looked perplexed.

"Are you sending my sister away?" He turned to Viki. "You aren't going anywhere, right?"

"Of course not," Viki assured him. "You just need privacy to get dressed-"

"NO! Don't you go away! Don't send her away!" Todd's eyes bounced back and forth between Tim and Viki and he grabbed the armrests of the chair, shaking. To hear her brother this desperate and frightened, and still being under the influence of her renewed hurts, was too much for Viki and tears bubbled out as she tried to assuage his apparent fears.

"Shhh, Todd, it's okay, it would only be for a short while, just a few minutes-"

"That's not true - that's not true! That's what they always say! And then they leave and never come back!"

He stood up, shoving the chair back, breathing heavily. Tim immediately thrust himself in between Todd and Viki, concerned that Todd's fear was escalating into something dangerous.

"Why do you think she won't come back? She said she'd stay all afternoon… and she did. Why would she lie now?"

Todd glanced at Viki, his eyes despairing and ashamed, his voice dropping. "Because I'm weak, I can't handle what's happened ..." His face grimaced and he backed up. "And because of what I did…I became just the same." His eyes looked about the room. "You know, right?"

Viki tried to answer, "Yes, I know. It doesn't matter anymore. Marty and Carol are part of your past. You will never be your father."

Todd gave a sudden bitter laugh, shaking his head, eyes glistening. "You don't know shit. 'Marty and Carol' were not the only ones."

Viki tried to maintain control of herself. Inside she was wrecked.

Tim had to step in as the last thing he wanted was for him to confess to unreported crimes to someone who had no obligation to keep his secrets. "This isn't the time," he said.

"When is the time, Doc? When I'm in Hell? Is that when I can talk about it? Why shouldn't I tell her?!"

"Because you're worn out. You're too tired. Rest on it. Think about it. Then talk to her tomorrow."

"FUCK YOU! She ought to know what I am, who - I - am!" He turned to stare down his sister, who regained some of her strength and told him that none of it mattered. Her opinion remained the same.

"Yeah? You sure? There were two others, Sis. High school cheerleaders. They begged me to stop and I didn't. And they deserved it. Just like I did." He laughed again, his face contorted with pain as he looked at Viki. "I make you sick."

"I love you and I understand what-"

"No, no, no. You can't understand. That... is... a lie. And I HATE liars." Shivering, Todd looked down at himself, at his body, his breathing rough and strained. All at once, he pulled up the sleeve of his jacket, his right hand pushing up his left arm to his mouth, and with his fingers and teeth, he ripped the bandaging off, too fast for Tim to stop.

"Do you see it? Do you understand THIS?! I'm gonna die! He's gonna kill me in the end! I'm not gonna survive! I'm not you!" As he shouted his befuddlement at someone's unconditional love, he held his arm out, showing her his wounds.

She obliged him, looking at the four angry gashes on his arm, pleading with him, "No, no, no, Todd, that's not true. You're stronger than you know."

Tim quietly stepped toward Todd.

"DON'T COME NEAR ME! Just stay away. Go home Viki, get it over with! Leave like you really want to!"

Todd looked at the floor, the world around him not making sense anymore, not meaning anything. Everyone had left him: both his mothers, Blair, Téa, Michelle. Why would his sister be any different? Especially now. He backed up against the corner of the room and slid down, hanging his head in hopelessness, drawing his knees up.

"Just go away."

Not moving from his position any further, Tim looked intensely at his patient.

"Can I show you something about those cuts of yours?" Todd didn't respond as he looked at his arm, touching the healing wounds, free of stitches but still disturbing to see. "May I take your hand, Todd? Will you let me?"

Todd looked up at Tim, unsure. What difference would it make now? He closed his eyes a moment, fighting sounds and pictures that were threatening to break through. Death tormented him, always. A choice, a pleasure, relief nibbling at his neck. The doctor kneeled in front of him and picked up his hand, holding it loosely in his own.

"When you were first brought in, these cuts were open and bleeding, your life slipping away. Like when your father raped you. He broke you, and ever since, your life has been slowly disintegrating. Slipping away. But look at the cuts now. See how they're healing?" Todd looked at his arm. "Like you. You told your sister what happened. That's amazing. After all those years of hiding from it. You told. You trusted someone. Viki isn't going to leave you, Todd."

Todd eyes welled up with tears and they slipped down his cheeks as he looked at his cut arm in Tim's hand. Said softly, "I don't know that."

"You trusted her enough to tell her what happened, now you're going to have to trust that she won't leave you. It's a lot to ask. I know that. Give yourself time to learn that part of trust. Pay attention to her, listen to her promises, feel how she loves you." Todd looked past the doctor at Viki, his eyes, bottomless pools of desolation. She gazed back at him, her own sadness there. He shook his head and looked back at the floor.

"I'm not going to make it. Just go ..."

Although he told her to go, his body and mind screamed for her to stay. He bit the inside of his lip surreptitiously, to stop the unbearable pain and the images that were slithering all around him. Tasted blood.

After a moment, the doctor stood back up, deciding that if he couldn't convince Todd of the sedation, he was going to force the issue. He could feel another meltdown coming. Damn it.

"All right," he said, "Like I said, please try to shower or bathe, it will make you feel so much better. You can get into fresh clothes and then you can rest."

There was no response from Todd so Tim led Viki to the door. She turned around and promised she would be back as soon as possible. He continued to look at the floor, fingering the healing cuts. True healing had never seemed so far away. As soon as Tim left the room, he sent an orderly back in.

"Stay with him. Not feeling good about the next few hours."

When the door to Todd's room shut, Tim looked at Viki who leaned against the wall, unable to move.

"Are we going to lose him? Is he not going to survive this, like he says?"

"No, we're not going to lose him. It's just that with progress comes backtracking. This is just another phase. He may get worse because of the new disclosures and learning about Jedediah, so be prepared." Tim looked at her carefully. "Viki – you're doing wonderfully. He's lucky to have you.."

Just then a nurse walked up to Tim, "Dr. Graham, Kevin Buchanan and Jedediah Chant are waiting in your office to see you."

"Thank you. Viki, would you like to join me?"

"Yes, but I need a couple of minutes to myself. I need to be a little stronger before I meet Todd's son."

Tim nodded and walked away, leaving Viki alone in the hallway with her own shadows.

Sitting in Dr. Graham's office with Kevin reminded Jedediah of his days in school, when he was on a first-name basis with the principal. Except the fun and mischievousness were gone and in their stead was anxiety like he had never known in his entire life. Tim finally came in and Kevin made some small talk with him to ease the tension in the room.

"Does he know about me?" Jedediah stammered, not being able to take the casual talk.

Tim answered right away, "Most definitely. I'm trying to downplay this until we can do a proper paternity test, but it's hard to fight him. As you might know, your blood types match. The two of you share an unusual type so that tends to support the paternity question. Also, there's a strong physical similarity on top of Todd's acknowledging a sexual relationship between him and your mother, Michelle. But I still have to be cautious."

"What did he say?"

Although he asked, Jedediah feared the response from Satan. Maybe Todd wouldn't ever want to see him again. On the other hand, did Jed even want to see him? He thought meeting his father would resolve a lot of questions. Not a single one got answered. All he got was mournful over his mother not being with him. She should be here, he kept thinking.

Tim responded, reeling in Jedediah's attention, seeing it drift. "He knew what your name meant. 'God's beloved', he said when Viki told him. He seemed to know who you were last night. He told me he always wondered whether he had a child. She might have given him a hint of it when she left Chicago. Said he tried looking for her." He paused. "How are you today, by the way? He was pretty rough on you."

"Ok, I guess. Um...how is he?"

"Well, he's struggling with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, a multi-layered problem originating from a traumatic incident in his younger life. Still showing signs of psychosis."

Both Kevin and Jedediah had looked at each other, Jedediah recalling how Todd changed drastically at age fourteen. It seemed to make the smallest bit of sense. Maybe, maybe.

At that moment, they heard a knock and it was Viki. Kevin stood up. He gave her a hug, a tight one that lasted for a moment or two. Viki's gaze shifted to the young man and she took a deep breath at seeing him. A young Todd with a few changes, mainly no rage and a definite softness to his features. She smiled at him affectionately, trying to stop herself from becoming emotional herself.

"So we meet. I've heard quite a lot about you. May I have a hug?" He stood up, embarrassed, his youth showing in his awkwardness. He did as he was requested, a little stiff, moving away quickly. Viki continued to smile as he tried his hand at speaking.

"Mmm, you can sit here. I'll go over there."

He gratefully sat on a small love-seat that had been crammed into the office recently. It was low and against the wall, separating him from the tension of the inner circle of people.

"You can't escape me that way," Viki teased gently, her eyes not laughing. "Did you talk to your … grandmother? We don't want her worried about you."

"Yeah, I called her and ... uh ... filled her in on everything. She didn't know what to say but couldn't deny anything. We hung up on each other a few times. She wants a separate . . . paternity test. She knew some stuff about ..." He didn't know what to call Todd. Dad? Father? Todd? Satan? "About Mr. Manning. They don't want him to be . . . the father."

Viki and Kevin looked at each other, hearing the dejected sound of Jedediah. Kevin thought Beatrice Chant wasn't the only one who didn't want Todd to be "the father".

Tim intervened in the conversation, knowing Jedediah himself had quite a bit to deal with.

"I thought we could talk a little about what happened last night," he said, eying Jed who just shrugged.

"Ok. First off, you know you can't work here anymore. Besides, I think the purpose for your being here has been taken care of."

Jedediah looked at his hands, not knowing where else to look and nodded his head. "Guess I'll go home."

Kevin reacted to his words, surprising himself, not wanting Jedediah to leave. He had grown to care for this boy and began working on a plan to encourage him to stay.

Tim continued, "I know you're hurt about what happened. It wasn't entirely your fault."

"But partly my fault," Jedediah mumbled under his breath. Viki, the ever-present mother to so many people in her life, wanted to grab this lonely child and take him home as she watched his sad eyes recall the haunting exchange with Todd.

"Well, it's possible he would've reacted the same way to any youngish person who had the gall to ask what happened to him, who had the nerve to engage him. You were a casualty."

"But you told me he thought he knew who I was. I wasn't just any old kid. I think I made it worse."

"He may have reacted more intensely to your presence, but that's a product of his illness. In his own way, he wanted to protect you. From his demons, so to speak, that haunt him. Jedediah, what I'm trying to say is, if it's at all possible, try not to focus on his scary behavior. He wasn't angry at you or at the question you asked. You saw fury that was really meant for someone else. Unfortunately, you got in his way."

Suddenly, Jedediah felt his emotions boil over, without control, gripping at him. He leaned forward, putting his head into his hands, his elbows on his knees. His shoulders shook and little sounds erupted accompanied by tears, pain cutting into him, into his chest.

Kevin got up and sat next to him, patting his back, trying to look at him. "Hey Jed. This is a lot of shit for kid to have to take on."

Viki's eyes welled at the sight of Kevin comforting Todd's son, taking care of his child since he could not do so himself. She saw how close Kevin and Jedediah must have grown during their trek through West Virginia. Kevin had changed. She recalled an incident several years before where Kevin revealed an undoubted indifference to Starr, despite her innocence, all as a result of her parentage. The suicide attempt of Todd had changed Kevin.

Kevin talked to Jed as he began to gain control again, "I want you to stay with me – don't go home. Maybe we can arrange a work-study program at the Banner. That way . . . you can monitor our investigation on Michelle. Keep an eye out on us."

Jedediah looked at Kevin, considering the proposal. Maybe, maybe.

Viki spoke up immediately. "I'd be happy to have you work with us. Kevin told me you had an interest in journalism. I know we can make arrangements for some type of program so you can get your degree."

"Jedediah, I don't know if you're up to this." Tim said, "But I promised Todd I'd ask if you were willing to see him again. He needs to be sure you're alive and kicking. He has a tendency to hyper-focus on an idea and can't shake it unless he sees physical proof. In your case, he thinks he hurt you and needs to be sure he didn't. How do you feel about that?"

"I don't know."

"I'll be there the entire time. If you're too frightened, you don't have to."

After a second, Jedediah nodded his head, "Okay, sure."

And immediately regretted it.

The Mole threw money on the table, the bills slowly unfolding on the tabletop. Brandy, his favorite prostitute, grinned as she languished on the bed in her small apartment on Sixteenth Avenue, Llanview, the darkest part of the city.

"Thanks, baby," she said, playing with her brownish nipples, exciting her customer even though they'd just finished their business transaction.

"Don't do that to me, Brand. I'll go broke on you."

She chuckled, "As if that'd bug me or somethin'. Bite me, come on. It'd only cost you 'nother hundred."

"Not today, babe. Just not feeling my usual self."

He scraped his stubbly scalp, stretching his neck muscles as he did so. He thought he ought to get dressed, but really didn't want to. If only he were free. He glanced down at his stocky body, bare and exposed. Rare for the Mole as he never knew when someone was going to want to take advantage of his vulnerable situation and kill him. He usually asked his whore to suck him off rather than full sex. Today, he felt he needed the exercise, the connection to humanness.

"Tell mama wha's wrong, baby?"

The Mole sighed in aggravation. "Found someone I was asked to locate. Got a lot of money for it. Told the asker the info. Feel shitty about it."

"My Mole don't feel shitty 'bout nothin'. Why now?" Brandy, her stringy black hair falling around her thin shoulders, hair made luxurious today by an early shampoo, sat up and got on her knees.

"Don't know," he said as he lit a cigarette. "It's a kid. And I think I just gave him up to someone who's gonna kill him." He inhaled deeply the strong smoke coming from the cigarette.

"I think my Johnny's goin' soft. And for that, Brandy here's gonna give you a freebie."

The Mole couldn't let go of the uncomfortable feeling that stuck with him as the woman next to him took him into her mouth, skillfully and expertly. He looked away from her, barely noticing her actions, barely feeling them. As he came into her mouth a few minutes later, as he watched the ashes from his cigarette hit the skin of her back, making her moan, he focused on a cockroach in the corner of the room, still and dead.

As soon as Viki and Tim left, a terrifying feeling of abandonment came over Todd. He had wanted to drag his sister back into the room, into his cave, never letting her leave him. Logically, he knew she was coming right back, that her leaving for a moment had nothing to do with how she felt about him.

Psychotically, he did not think she was returning, ever. He didn't trust she'd stick around. He tried to tell it all to her but kept thinking she'd not heard him, that she'd not absorbed the true horror of all that happened to him, of all that he'd done to others.

I am weak, I am... nothing.

Remaining in the corner of his room, he pulled his sweat jacket tight around him and wrapped his arms around his knees. Foggily, Todd heard Martin ask if he wanted a bath and get new clothes on but he growled out a warning to stay away from him because he needed to watch for Peter. He knew it made no sense because his father was dead, but he felt his father's presence. He watched the door and the window, expecting at any moment for his father to walk by, to walk in. To kill him.

All the while with his still-bandaged right hand, he kept feeling the cuts on his other arm, running his fingers across them.

The orderly decided that his charge was in no condition to tolerate being undressed, not unless he was heavily medicated. So he pulled a chair by the door and sat by, not leaving Todd, following Tim's orders. On his cell, he entered an update, knowing it would go straight to the doc.

Todd's eyes went from Martin, to the window, and back again. He kept hearing in his head his own screaming at the kid. It reminded him of Peter. He knew he didn't rape Jedediah, but it kept replaying in his own head as if he did. He kept seeing himself grab the boy in the consultation room, feeling heat from a lit fireplace although he knew there wasn't one in that room. He could feel Jedediah's body underneath him, could feel locks in his tightened fingers, sensed he'd was pressing a hooked arm around the kid's throat. He could feel himself sinking inside the boy.

Shaking his head, he tried to focus on what Viki and Tim assured him of. That Jedediah was fine, that he was in one piece, that he was not hurt, physically.

But he did hurt him, he saw the boy running from him, he heard his voice yell, "No!" "No," what? "No," don't rape me? "No," don't kill me? What?

"God," he moaned out loud.

Beads of sweat began to form on his neck, on his forehead, and he felt his tee-shirt sticking to him. He rubbed his neck, feeling the moisture. We'll be right back, he heard them say. Jed is ok, you didn't hurt him. You rest, we'll be right back. Back. He hummed to himself, and started rocking, trying to soothe the fears popping inside of him. Like popcorn, sizzling kernels of horrors exploded in his head, shocking him every time. He tried to orient himself, the way Tim had taught him.

My room, he thought to himself, in the hospital.

There's the bed, the table, there's Martin, there's a turned down sofa bed, basement wall, steps. Wait, wait, that's not right. Where are Tim and Viki? Why did they leave me? Where am I?

Closing his eyes, he ran his hands through his hair and then rubbed them up and down his legs. Like the body of a snake slithering across his lap, his desire for pain tickled him, caressed him, offered false relief. With that, sexual thoughts ran through his mind, pictures mixing together into one large blackish bog. He heard the cheerleader, her muffled screams against the palm of his hand, the bite on his lip. He heard himself telling Viki about her, about both of them. He felt that disgusting sexual arousal happening again and pressed down on himself, seeking relief in another way. Maybe that would stop it, he thought. Rub it out. But the images only intensified. Grunting audibly at the scenes he was forced to watch and feel, he rolled his head against the wall, his hands feeling the two walls which embraced him. Tricks, just mind tricks.

"Oh, God," he said out loud. The snake was dragging away reality with its slithering body.

Through a haze, he saw a person talking on the intercom next to the door but couldn't understand what he was saying. He tried to call out to him, not knowing who he was. Scared to death it was a Peter employee … a henchman … a hitman maybe. The man on the intercom faded away and Todd's eyes widened at his disappearing right in front of him. He heard Peter laughing at him, and he felt the burning lighter on his palms, near his face, singing his hair. He saw the fireplace and their old furniture. He breathed and tried meditating, thinking of the playground with Starr, but it kept disintegrating, the squeals of Starr turning into the sobs of the women he raped, turning into the choking gasps of himself being raped. He reached under his shirt and raked his fingernails across his chest, eventually feeling wetness. Again and again he scratched his skin to wake himself up.

But it wasn't working, the visions continued to pound down on him and he couldn't tell where he was anymore. He heard Peter's voice in his ears, deafening now.

"How is this, you little fuck! Is this the way you like it?! I can still hear your breathing, you little bastard! Why don't you fucking die?!"

He was suffocating. Peter's groans as he raped Todd deafened him. His hands reached up to cover his ears, shooting pains ripping through his arms. He felt fire burning right through him to his core. Suddenly, he saw himself raping someone, violently. He felt it, tasted it, he was getting close to an orgasm. With horror, the person beneath him turned and looked at him. It was Jedediah. Todd banged his head against the wall several times to bring himself out of it. He couldn't hear himself crying out for Viki, for someone to save him, to stop Peter, to stop him. But the pounding didn't hurt him enough and he tried hitting himself harder. Nothing worked anymore. He was going to die in this Hell.

"Todd! Todd! Alright, I got you ... I'm sorry, buddy. Oh, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left you for so long."

He felt his body being dragged away and he panicked, screaming wildly, kicking and flailing his arms. Then, he felt someone holding on to him, cradling him, but he wasn't afraid of them. He knew they weren't going to hurt him.

"Alright, shhh. It's ok. It's me, Tim. I'm here. Alright."

He felt himself being rocked and someone's face close to him, a comforting voice near his ear, but he couldn't see anything – it was all so cloudy, still. He tried to move his arms but they were tucked safely away. His face was wet and he could hear a baby crying but didn't know where it was coming from.

At last, the fog cleared and it was his healer holding him, his strong arms around him. Todd was suddenly aware that he was the one crying, sobbing.

"Oh God, when is it gonna stop? Please tell me when it's going to stop."

"Soon," Tim said. "But right now, you aren't strong enough to deal with it. You're too tired. It's not your fault. Just breathe deeply, count to ten. Come on."

Todd continued to cry in his doctor's arms, relieved the barrage of memories had finally slowed, the images having sunk back into the shadows of his mind.

After a moment, Todd spoke faintly, "Please let me go, please ..."

Tim immediately let go and Todd crawled to the corner where he sat for a minute, regaining composure, his breathing returning to normal. He looked down.

"I think I hurt myself. I'm sorry, I-I know I'm not supposed to do that." He whimpered and rubbed his chest, the injuries beginning to sting him. He lifted his shirt revealing harsh scratches.

"Mmm, yes, you did," Tim said, taking a deep breath. "Martin, will you please get some cleansing material, gauze and antiseptic. How do you do this, kiddo? We make sure your nails are cut and what we miss, you bite off." He gave a sad chuckle at his suffering patient.

When Tim finished cleaning his injuries, Todd whispered to him. "I need to see him. I need to know that he's okay. Please, can you call him? Can you bring Jedediah here? You said I could see him."

"I don't know. I'm real concerned about his effect on you." Tim sucked in air, exhaling sharply, "You aren't doing well and I need to keep you safe."

He shook his head violently, panicking, his respiration increasing, the fear thick.

"Please, please!" Suddenly he got on his knees, his head at Tim's feet, his hands on Tim's legs. "Please let me, please, please, I'll be better, I'll be good, I won't do the bad things anymore! I'll do anything you want… anything at all... what do you want? Huh? You want me to lie still? Want me to be real quiet?" His voice dropped to nothing but a whisper. "I'll be so quiet, nobody will hear us. You want me to do that? I'll do it… I'll do it all… please…. please… please… quiet as a mouse..."

Tim's stomach lurched. He was begging his father. And what he was offering had an undoubted sexual innuendo. It broke Tim's heart. There was so much more lurking in that brain. He wanted to get him in a hold until he wasn't afraid anymore, but he didn't. Touching when such images were roaring through Todd's mind would be too confusing at the moment. And it wasn't necessary because he wasn't hurting himself. But still he wished he could.

"Todd, remember where you are. You're in the hospital, in your room. Look at me, tell me you know this."

His patient was still on his knees, on the floor. He squeezed the pant legs of his doctor. He then seemed to calm, releasing the doctor. He moved back to his corner and through the long hair i his face, he eyed the doctor.

"Are you with me, kiddo? Huh?"

He nodded, whispering, "I'm here… in the hospital, in my room."

"Okay, I'll let you see him. But you have to do something for me with regard to medication."

Todd already started to shake his head, no, no...

"You have to be sedated tonight. No questions, no arguments."

"No!" Todd snapped, his face twitching in anger. "If I sleep, he'll kill me ... or ... hurt me in other ways! I'll be a sitting duck!"

"No one is going to hurt you while you sleep."

"I can't! I won't!"

"If you refuse medication, I refuse Jedediah."

Todd looked around, scratching his head, then rubbed his face roughly with both hands. Tim could see him battling his options.

Lose now or lose later? Which would you like? Either way, you're the big fucking loser.

He finally just spat, "Okay! What the fuck ever! Whatever..." He leaned back against the wall, defeated and afraid. A mess. It broke Tim's heart.

The courtroom door shut out the cacophony of yelps, flashing cameras and the banging of a gavel against a desk. Sam carried his briefcase in his hand and walked down the hall having left the stir behind. Llanview would never be the same. Thanks to him, all Hell had broken loose and the Buchanan family and Phillip Manning were going to come down. Hard.

Earlier, at the opening of the hearing, Sam had asked that Judge Campbell recuse himself but he refused with arrogance. Sam had no choice but to present his evidence outlining the scam. When he was done, Campbell was furious, threatening to disbar Sam. But Sam knew he was safe because he had the power of the truth in his hands. The condemnation proceeding was thrown out on the grounds of a technical error by the city, merely an excuse, a cover-up. He knew Sam would appeal had he approved the proceeding and his hopes were that by giving the Vegas their diner back, they would not go further with the claim of corruption. It was a losing situation. Additionally, just to avoid any further trouble, Campbell also reinstated Todd's suspended sentence, reversing the violation of probation on his record.

In some ways, Sam felt his job was over in Llanview. He had started something that would hopefully restore the solidity of Llanview government and perhaps end a branch of organized crime headed by Phillip Manning. But, it didn't make up for his ultimate sin of failing Todd. Today was reason to indulge in his favorite addiction: liquor. He planned on getting good and drunk.

But first, he needed to see Todd.

About twenty minutes later, Tim, Jedediah and Kevin stood outside the door to the consultation room. The doctor was talking quietly to Jedediah, advising him on how to act, that he should be himself and not be afraid. "Satan" wasn't here now, he promised, but Todd was walking a very thin line between reality and his past. He had to be treated very gently.

"Go along with what he wants, let him direct the conversation if there's any at all," Tim had explained. "He's lightly sedated so there's very little possibility we'll have a replay of last night. He just wants to know you're ok."

Tim looked towards the door of the consultation room and made a motion indicating that Jedediah could come in. Kevin gave a firm pat on Jed's shoulder and said "I'll be right here, kid." He walked a ways down the hall to be sure Todd wouldn't see him.

Jedediah now walked toward his father, barely able to breathe, remembering too clearly the previous night's terrifying attack. As he slowly walked around to the front of the couch, he saw an entirely different person than he remembered. His mouth dropped open slightly. When he realized his expression of shock, he promptly bit down. Todd wasn't Satan at all, but rather a very obviously ill person. Passive, weak, shivering a little… glassy eyes.

Those disconnected eyes moved to Jedediah. The study began at his worn leather boots, up to the ragged jeans to his rough navy-blue sweater, and then, finally, his face.

Jedediah chewed on his lip as he once again recognized what Michelle saw in this man–he saw a definite vulnerability, a whole lot of pain. He couldn't deny that despite the stress, despite his disheveled appearance, Todd was kinda beautiful in a horror-movie kinda way. He supposed that when younger, he would have been just as Michelle had described. He wished for his Mimi, wishing she could be here, too. He was miserable.

After what seemed like an eternity, Todd spoke out. "You okay? You look okay. He looks okay."

Viki smiled at him, "M-hm." She caressed his hand that she held in her lap.

"Yeah," said Jed, "I'm ok." Jedediah swallowed hard, looking at Todd, his face, his arms, his feet, and back up again, memorizing him. So in his dreams he could tell Michelle about him.

"I didn't ... hurt you in any way? Ph-physically?" Todd spoke his words carefully, looking at Jedediah all over, trying to see that he had all his limbs in place and that there were no broken bones or other such damages. Making sure there weren't any bruises or blood. He checked him up and down, repeatedly, like a new parent checks their newborn baby for all its parts, for all its features.

"No. You pushed me a little, but mostly just ... freaked me out," Jedediah said. "I shouldn't have snuck in here." He looked down, ashamed. "I just wanted to see you. I'm really sorry."

Todd waved away Jedediah's concern, shaking his head. "Mmm, don't. I'm ... glad you're okay - glad I didn't … hurt you… too bad. Umm, y-you look like Michelle. I see her in you. A little. The rest of you, y-you look like me. Sorry about that."

Todd looked down, suddenly aching, never wishing anyone to be like him. He'd always been so grateful that Starr looked more like Blair than him, or so he thought.

"Hey, I think I look pretty good," Jedediah quipped. "Nothing to be sorry about." Todd smiled a bit, lifting his eyes back to the boy.

"Yeah, you do. You look good. Yeah, yeah. Beloved. Oh, yeah ..." Todd lowered his eyes and put his hand up to cover them. Said softly, "Your mom was ... beautiful."

He drifted, closing his eyes, hearing her voice, her sweet kiss on his cheek. When the memory faded, his hand dropped down to his lap and he looked over at Viki, biting his lip, not wanting to lose his connection. She gave his hand a squeeze, knowing he'd slipped a little. Returning his gaze to Jedediah, he swallowed hard.

"Do ... you remember much ... about her? You were young when she ... when –" Todd scowled at his not being able to complete his thought, not being able to complete the query.

Jed finished. "I was almost nine when she died and yeah, I remember a lot about her."

Todd startled when the child sat heavily on the coffee table in front of the couch, directly in front of him. He couldn't keep eye contact and backed up into the couch.

"She was a lot of fun, with me," Jed said. "We had a special thing going." Jedediah smiled to himself, really, looking down at his boots and fingering the chain he wore around his neck, the locket itself hidden underneath his t-shirt. "She had me but my ... uh ... grandparents didn't let her tell anybody about me. They were ashamed. People thought I was her baby brother. But Mimi and I knew the truth, our truth."

"Don't tell," Todd whispered, knowing the admonition well. Too well. Tim was tempted to stop the conversation, but let it go, seeing that Todd was held here by the young man, his gaze having returned to Jedediah and his mind not drifting.

Looking at Todd directly, Jedediah said with a spray of bitterness, "Yeah, 'don't tell'."

For a moment, as they regarded each other, they seemed to see a truth of a sort in one another, their eyes meeting and understanding. Jedediah continued to talk, his own ghosts taking over, slipping away in his own right, his eyes moving to his own hands. "We used to talk together, at night, in bed, you know? I told stupid stories and my mom, Mimi I called her, she'd finish 'em ... I still do that sometimes, make up stories and ... finish 'em in the way she would have. I miss her."

Todd stared at his child and tentatively reached his hand towards him, wanting to touch him, to soothe his pain, his hurt. He pulled his hand quickly back into himself, into his chest, just as Jedediah looked back up at him.

"Have I said too much?" Jed asked.

Todd shrugged his shoulder, giving a little shake of his head as if to say, no matter. "Sorry she left you," he said. "I know what that's like. Losing people."

Todd closed his eyes and licked his lips, fading. He spoke softly, remembering a different time.

"We talked about you," he said, "Talked about what we'd name the kid we were gonna have, when ... when we got married." His face crinkled in painful recollection. "'Jedediah', she said. 'Means God's beloved – 'cause any baby we make will be special and loved.' I remember that. Won't hurt like you, she said, 'cause he'll always have God. Thought it was … funny – never believed in God – he's dead. Isn't that right? Isn't that what they say? That he's dead?" He asked nobody in particular.

Jedediah looked at Viki for the first time, sadness in his eyes, his emotions threatening to run away with him. He knew the story Todd remembered to be true, because it was something his mother always told him. He was loved by God. Above all, he had God. Unlike Todd, he sorta believed it.

Viki smiled back at him softly, her eyes misty to hear the tale, to see Jed listening to his father tell him about his past. She reassured him gently, mouthing, "It's ok."

Todd adjusted his position on the couch, straightening up, stretching himself.

"Hate this," he breathed out. With a whimper, he pulled his hair back and rubbed his mouth, afraid to look up. But he did. With one last look at Jed, he said softly, "You're always gonna be loved, Jedediah Chant, even if you think you're all alone. For you, it's true."

No one could add anything to his words.

Jedediah looked at all three of them and got up, not being able to take it anymore. He hesitated, unsure of what to say and ended up simply turning and walking away. As he disappeared from view, Todd leaned into Viki and she wrapped her arm around him. Turning his head toward her, he whispered so only she could hear, "Help me, I'm scared. The walls are coming down…floor's opening up. I hear stuff."

"It's alright, you're ok. I love you. You're safe." He huddled against her, not moving anymore.

Without saying anything to Tim who remained at the door to the consultation room, Jedediah walked right to where Kevin was waiting for him, only a few feet down the hall. As they trudged quietly down the hall toward the elevator, Jedediah murmured, "What happened to him and my mom? What happened to them when they were fourteen?"

"I wish I knew, buddy."

Outside Llanview Hospital, the Mole leaned against a tree, smoking an unfiltered cigarette. He watched the young kid walk out the lobby doors with a dark-haired man he didn't know and then get into a car, driving away.

"'Come on, come quickly, Death!'" he quoted. Flicking away the cigarette ash, he knew he would end up in Hell if he did what he was supposed to.

To be continued…..