On the Edge of Wakefulness

Chapter 14

Feathery caresses on his cheek stirred Jedediah from his catnap on the park bench. When he woke up fully, he found himself looking at big hazel eyes of a little girl with long brown hair who was smiling curiously at him. The voice of her mother drifted over to them, "Starr, don't do that. Come on, let's go back to the playground."

Blair walked up to them, taken aback at the boy on the bench. He so reminded her of someone, so familiar his face. Dismissing it, she started to pull Starr away, "Let's go, pumpkin."

"Hey, it's okay, I gotta get going anyway. She wasn't bothering me." Jedediah sat up, feeling only a little better than he had earlier, resentment and sadness back into the part of his brain where it was starting to make a home. Way in the back. He rubbed his eyes and brushed back his hair, returning his gaze to Starr and giving her a grin.

"Well, my little girl has a way of grabbing the things she wants and apparently you were what she wanted today." Blair laughed and gave Starr a squeeze which brought forth a giggle.

"My name's Starr, what's your's?"

Jedediah paused, realizing he was looking at Todd's daughter, remembering her face from pictures he saw at Viki's house. A sister. He quickly looked at Blair then back to the child and said under his breath, "Oh, this is weird."

Blair chuckled, "What?"

Though he had spoken out loud, he hadn't actually intended on explaining himself – he fumbled for a response. "I...uh...you're...uh..."

"Spit it out," she laughed.

"You're Todd Manning's ex..."

As she heard Todd's name, it dawned on her that it was Todd the boy reminded her of. They shared similar colored eyes, eyes which trapped you if you got caught in their stare, like now. Todd had learned to use his beautiful eyes well in his manipulations of Blair. She tried to shove away bad memories of varied tortures, torments, and appeals to her soft side. For a short moment, she wondered if this boy would learn the same techniques. Wow, he really looked like Todd.

"Yes, I was married to him," she said. "Not exactly the kind of fame I once imagined. You know him, I suppose?" She glanced in the direction of the hospital, tempted to see him, but afraid of what she would find.

"Sorta know him," Jedediah responded bitterly, a tone coming he couldn't control.

"Blair!" They all turned to the sound of Viki approaching slowly and waving. Starr took off and ran into her waiting arms, the two embracing tightly. They came up to the bench, Starr holding her aunt's hand and chattering away.

Viki smiled at Jed. "You all right? We were worried," she said. He shrugged and she instinctively touched his shoulder, making him shrug in teenage embarrassment. Turning to Blair, she said, "I see you've met Jedediah."

"Jedediah?" Blair looked questioningly at Viki, then at the young man on the bench.

"Yes...Jedediah Chant. This is Todd's son."

"Excuse me?! That's impossible! He doesn't have—"

"Yes, Blair, he does."

Blair's mouth dropped open and Jedediah rolled his eyes at her reaction. How many times would he have to go through this?

"Viki...has there...excuse me, Jedediah...but I can't just accept this—"

"Accept it, Blair. There's already been a paternity test and it was a match."

Starr didn't give Blair much time to digest the information and spit it out in her usual, jarring way — she jumped up and down at the news, "This is my brother? I have a brother? Mommy, when did that happen?"

Blair kneeled down, "Starr, honey, this is your brother that your Daddy made with another mommy…apparently. I'm sure Jedediah is very excited to know he has a little sister." She stood up again, reeling, having never been told anything. Always in the dark.

"Viki, can I talk to you...alone," Blair said, glancing at the boy.

Jedediah got up, thankful he could step away from this nightmare of family introductions. Starr didn't let him get away, however, taking his hand, "Come, new brother, come play!" As Blair began a tense low-toned discussion with Viki, Starr pulled Jedediah to the jungle gym, which she began to climb, asking questions all the way, "What a long name - Jed-er-daiiiaaa… I never heard such a name."

"Call me Jed. It's easier."

"How come I never saw you before?"

"Haven't been living here — it's a long story."

Starr hung upside down, her hair hanging down, her skinny legs slung over the bar and wrapped in denim, "You kind of look like daddy this way. I miss him." She managed to turn herself around and plop back down. Jedediah sat next to the gym on the sand, where he was tossing pebbles, where Starr joined him. He looked at Viki and Blair, Blair looking angry at something. For sure it was about him. He rolled his eyes again at the scene, but Starr drew him in with her interrogation, "Have you seen him?"

"Mmm. Sort of. A little," he said as he turned to look at her face, full of curiosity and acceptance.

"He's so funny. Plays with me a lot. Always has surprises for me, too." She giggled, "Hugs mostly." At the last comment, Starr's face saddened, but she quickly smiled to make up for it. Showing missing teeth. "Has he given you surprises, too?"

Oh yeah. 'Daddy' is full of surprises.

"I think that's something just for you."

Jed couldn't imagine Satan doing these sweet things, being a father to his daughter. Not unless he was heavily sedated. He tightened his mouth and fidgeted, locked out of the paternal relationship, far away from this supposed father of his. His Angel Daddy. He thought he'd seen him the previous afternoon, talking about Jed's name and Mimi, but that was gone in a flash.

Starr crinkled her nose and her smile faded again, her true feelings breaking through, "My mom says Daddy's sick and I can't see him."

"Maybe I can give him a message for you."

"Okay. Tell'm I been talking to Fred but it isn't working 'cause I ask and ask and he still stays sick. Tell'm I want him to come home. Tell'm I love him." She smiled but the sadness remained in her eyes. She shook it off though and ran to the swings. "Come swing me! It's for babies but I like it!"

So much to say to your daddy, Jedediah thought as he stood up to do as this princess asked. In an instant he decided to wait a few days before leaving to the mountains of West Virginia. He needed to see Todd first, to question him. To give him the message from his daughter. Winter was coming fast. Any more waiting to take off and he'd be stuck here until spring. He pushed Starr, liking her laugh and remembering how it felt to swing. The tickle in the pit of his stomach, the momentary feeling of flight.

Freedom.

"Sign here. And here. Oh, and here," a nurse directed from behind a desk in the admittance office. Todd signed his name several times over on the various forms, scowling all the while, periodically glancing at Tim who sat next to him. He felt weepy, but controlled it. Felt jittery and anxious — not so easy to control. He shifted in the chair, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand, scratched various places. Didn't think there was ever a time in his life when he felt this ugly, this sick. Shame consumed him.

Every other minute or so, he would pull back his hair and look out the door at a pacing Sam who waited for him.

"Your room is all ready," the nurse said. "I'm sure you feel good about being out of the lock-down ward."

Todd shrugged his shoulders, a small movement. The papers were signed, but Todd couldn't will his body to move, to get up. He sat still, staring at the floor.

Tim put his hand on his shoulder, "You ok, kiddo?"

Todd didn't respond, his gaze unmoving. Tim nodded to the nurse and asked if she could step out a moment.

"Of course," she said and disappeared out the door, taking the paperwork with her. Todd shrank back deeper into the chair, hugging himself and began to rock a little.

"Talk to me."

"I'm losing control...signing away my life...gonna be trapped here." He seemed shivery and a bit short of breath. Tim looked at him carefully.

"Todd, this isn't prison. You can leave whenever you want. You're not locked in your room or the floor. In fact, the doors don't lock for your own safety."

"No locks?" He didn't look at Tim as he spoke, continuing his rocking.

"No."

"Not even a bolt or anything?" Todd ran a hand through his hair again.

"No..." Tim answered, hearing Todd whispering something, muttering — a new habit that Tim had noticed in the past couple of days. Not the delusional dialogue from before, just a soft outwardly discussion. Sam stopped his pacing and glanced in, wondering what was going on.

Finally, Todd said what worried him, "Can people walk in the room while I sleep?"

"No," he said, "The floor is watched by full-time medical staff. There's plenty of security. You're very safe here. Nobody's ever been hurt on this floor."

"Yeah, well there's always a first time. First time someone gets hurt..." Todd was slipping, so easily it happened now. He closed his eyes, shivering, his eyes moving beneath the lids.

"Todd, tell me what's happening." Tim leaned in, letting him know he was there, by lightly touching his arm.

"He comes at night...it's at night...first time...first time someone gets hurt..."

Sam stood quietly at the door, not wanting to hear but unwilling to move.

"Who comes at night?"

Todd whimpered, an escaped sound of fear.

"It's okay…it's just a memory…tell me."

Wake up, buddy boy. Daddy's here…let's see what we got. You'll never be able to satisfy anybody with this. Yeah, yeah...look at me…remember this. Do it this way…yeah just like that…stay still now. You'll do that too…I'll show you how.

"He comes...he touches me...makes me touch him…he shouldn't do that..."

"No, he shouldn't."

"Oh God..." Todd's whole body tensed and leaned over to the side a little, covering himself, protecting himself against the violations he remembered.

Your mother thinks you're 'her perfect boy.' I'll show her just how perfect you are. Worthless cunt she is.

"Worthless...perfect...show me..." Todd breathed out these words and shivered, the coldness gripping him, the blankets and pajamas having been pulled off of him in the darkest hour of the night.

Suddenly, he flew off the chair he was in and slammed himself into a corner of the room, screaming as he sunk to the floor in an agonized huddle, "Get him off me! Get him off!" He kicked his legs out, swung his arms, fighting someone. Eyes wide in complete panic. Tim quickly pulled Todd out from the corner, sliding down against the wall and holding Todd in a safe hold. Todd struggled terribly, his head banging against his doctor's chest, his arms crossed tightly so they wouldn't flail. Tim urged, "It's not real, kiddo. Just your memories...it's okay."

After a few minutes, with Sam still transfixed at the door, Todd finally began to calm, breathing heavily. "Oh God...oh God..."

"It's all right. You're all right, these things get triggered. You're safe. Tell me where you are."

"O-office...h-hospital..."

When Todd was no longer fighting his attacker, Tim let go. Todd immediately adjusted himself so he was cradled in the corner of the room with his knees drawn up and his eyes covered with trembling hands — trying hard to block the vivid illusions out, trying to forget. The doctor kneeled in front of him. Many minutes passed, the only sound being Todd's pained sniffling…

Finally, he stammered, "Why's this happening? I don't understand. It never happened before..." All at once, he yelled, "It never happened before!" Sam startled at the sudden fury and Todd groaned in aggravation, the fog not having cleared yet, but the feelings sharp.

"Your defenses are down since your suicide attempt and you don't have the kind of strength you used to have to keep those memories hidden. The memories have become stronger than you, in a sense. But the more you talk about them, the more their power will decrease."

Todd sniffled angry tears from behind his hands, "It hurts, Tim...it really hurts." He then put his hands in his lap, intertwining his fingers, untangling and then tangling them again. "They used to stay put," he growled. "They'd listen to me. They'd behave. I just had to control them — I can't do it anymore."

"I know," Tim said. "You need to talk about them." Todd looked at him with red and teary eyes, wanting to tell Tim, needing to tell. But he saw Sam at the door who immediately offered to leave.

"Hey Boomer, I'm going to wait elsewhere. You talk to Tim."

Sam smiled weakly, the horror on his face too evident. Too plain. Todd realized that he had been there all along, listening to his Hell, watching him writhe underneath the paws of Satan. Todd shook his head, breathed, "Oh Jesus Christ… oh my god…" The humiliation was almost more than he could bear. But then… another kind of rush came over him. After a moment he said, "No...don't go, Sam. I...uh… I wanna know something..."

Tim stood up and sat back on the desk behind him, watching, observing. Ready. Sam grew afraid, afraid of his own truth, of his own failures to the boy who sat in front of him.

In a ragged voice, Todd asked the question, the one he always wondered about, "Why didn't you ever try to pull me outta there? I tried so hard to tell you..." He hit his chest with his fist, his face full of pain, of hurt. "I tried to tell you things! So I need to know… now that you're here...to help me...why didn't you fuckin' help me before?"

Yeah, why, Coach? Tell us why. Why.

Tim sighed, knowing the difficulty in answering such a question. Sam, shook his head, looking away, trying to say, I don't know, without success.

Todd tilted his head, his expression one of earnest curiosity. "Was I too small to see? Too short, too vague, was I…too undamaged…did I need more bruises? More blood? Huh, coach? HUH?"

"No, Pal…"

"No…no….no, PAL…you were fine…BOOMER…" The mimicking was ugly. Truthful. Fury was his best friend — could always count on it. It was strong and powerful and noisy. The cringing of Sam showed him its force, the faces of the women he raped had told him the same. The faces of his wives confirmed it, too. It was a treasure to him. A necessity. And it always got him what he wanted.

Todd stood up and put still-shaking hands out, pleading, "I'm right here…standing in front of you, asking you to SEE ME. TO LOOK AT ME! You saw me that night…you KNEW. WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE ME?! WHY?! WHY?!"

Frozen in time, stunned, Sam couldn't answer. The inquest had finally arrived and all he could think was he wanted that scotch. He wanted the comforting numbness. He stared at Todd's arm, at the jagged cuts exposed now. After the scotch, Sam thought…impotence. His own impotence as a human, as a father, as a moral being. Tears got forced out…

"There isn't any answer. Call it denial, fear, cowardliness, anything. I have no answer. I can only say that everyday I'm alive I wish I'd been stronger for you. I wish...I hadn't closed my eyes to what I knew. I can only offer myself to you, today, tomorrow. I see you now — I see you for the first time in my life…and I'm so sorry it took so long."

Todd stared at Sam, then said in a low sad voice. "You know what I think? I think you hated me. You didn't want to take care of another kid, especially one that was dirtied by Peter. Ruined."

"Oh God no…"

"Oh god, yes."

"You were a great kid. You are great. I was a failure to you. I know what I say isn't good enough. But it's all I have."

Todd's rage seemed to have lessened. His voice softened… "I used to want you to be my dad — I used to want you to kill my real one. 'He's strong, he's perfect, he can do anything.' That's what I'd say…about you."

There was nothing left to say, only facts to accept. Reality is sometimes hard to choke down.

"I wish I'd been perfect, Pal. Maybe we wouldn't be here if I had."

Todd hung his head, huffed, "You did fail me. You did, you fuckin' bastard."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, knowing his responsibility. He dropped the ball and let Todd take the hits. He should have pulled him out of the game.

"I'm sorry — I'm so, so sorry."

"Sorry...sorry…sorry. I live with that word. Live for it. Eat it everyday. Don't say it to me." Todd then looked at Tim, bitterness in his mouth, "I guess we better go to that room, huh?"

Sam stopped him, however, saying, "I know how you feel about me." Todd didn't look at him — just stood, listening. "But, I want you to know that I love you like a son. That I plan on sticking around. You can tell me again and again how I let you down." He paused, nodding at his own promise. "I'll keep coming back until you're ready to play ball on your own."

Todd didn't offer anything in response other than continuing his walk down the hall to his room. Sam ached with regret and headed in the opposite direction, to go home. To drown his misery.

Viki walked slowly next to Jedediah on the path back to the hospital, studying him and recognizing the sadness, the loneliness. "I see you made a new friend," she said.

"Yeah. She's cute. The mom seems nice enough."

Viki just smiled, saying, "We haven't had a chance to talk much and I'm sorry for that. The past few days probably have been very difficult for you."

"I guess," Jedediah answered with a dismissive tone. The skies above looked to be threatening rain and Jed put his hand out to test for drops.

"Has Kevin told you much about Todd's family background?"

"A little. Names and stuff. Relationships." Jedediah looked around him, once or twice stealing a glance at Viki who always seemed to carry herself with such dignity and confidence. It reminded him of his grandmother, except Beatrice lacked the warmth which Viki exuded.

"Well, let me fill you in a little. We're half-siblings as you know. I didn't meet him until he was in college, but before the Marty Saybrooke incident."

"Oh yeah, the gang-rape."

Viki winced as she heard the animosity in his voice. Jedediah gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw working, biting back more words on this subject.

"Yes. I didn't know he was my brother until about two years after that. I did know his adoptive father, Peter Manning. He was very abusive to Todd. I saw up close the emotional and verbal abuse. He once told me his father hated him. Hate. Do you know what that feels like? To have someone hate you?"

Jedediah shrugged, rejecting the thread of conversation, resisting the "poor Todd" storyline. We've all been there, he thought. Tell me more, Mimi! I can't sweetheart, remember our secret. He shushed her voice in his head, her smile. "Yeah I know what hate is."

They stopped at a fountain and watched the water shoot upwards into the sun's light, droplets splashing, making marks on the cement wall which surrounded it. Only a few more days and the fountain would be shut off for winter. Jedediah closed his eyes as he felt the water hit him, wetting his cheek, tiny specks of cold.

She continued, though. "I also had a father who abused me, who couldn't ever show me real love."

He scowled, "So how does all of that excuse...Todd...for that rape, for the others?"

"It doesn't. It only serves as an explanation or a foundation for his aggressive, violent behavior. It took me a long time to accept him. I didn't want to think I had a rapist for a brother. I don't imagine this pleases you either."

"You could say that again. Uh...I'm not gonna lie to you...I kinda hate him right now, no matter how sick he is."

Viki nodded, not able to say in words just how deeply she understood his position. "Let yourself hate him. It's very frustrating when you have needs and someone else is draining everything around you. You know what it reminds me of?"

He shrugged, adding a tad shake of his head.

"A garden. You as a single flower in a large garden, struggling to reach the sun, fighting among other plants that are bigger than you, older than you, just so you can grow. Todd's a rose bush; thorny, demanding, captivating. He takes the water and the sun away. He can't help it. He has always had to do it to survive. But you know, rose bushes have dormant periods, where they live quietly and peacefully with their leaves shorn and their branches cut. And during that time, the small plants can finally reach the sun. There will be a time when he will be quiet and peaceful."

Jedediah listened to her and looked around him, looked down at himself. Wondering when Todd would not need so much sun, when he would be quiet, and allow Jedediah his time. He sighed heavily. Most likely, it would never happen.

"I get it. He had a crappy life, he got sick, and now he occupies a lot of space because of it. Yeah, I get it."

He didn't. He never lived with this kind of illness, with this kind of energy that Todd possessed. Jedediah spent half his life being quiet, accommodating secrets, and waiting for his time to come. And the facts was… he needed the fucking sun NOW.

"Look, I don't mean to be...um...rude, but it's really hard," he said. "I can't relate to the idea that he's my father. I don't feel anything except kind of… pissed off. Sorry to say that, but I mean, I know a lot of kids who had jerks for fathers? But they weren't nuts like Todd is."

"No, they weren't. Maybe they had different ways of dealing with the abuse, maybe they had other avenues of support, maybe they experienced different kinds of abuses. We were not so lucky."

"We?"

"Yes, I told you I was abused. It wasn't just emotional. It was physical - sexual."

"Oh… I'm sorry," he said softly.

Viki inwardly yelped for joy because she could tell the innocence in his words, in his sympathy. Unlike when she had talked with Todd, there was not an undercurrent of likeness, of similarity. Of angry understanding.

"Yes. I dealt with it in a different manner than Todd is dealing with his past. I developed a dissociative disorder. People know it as Multiple Personality Disorder. I learned to cope with the trauma by creating different personalities. I consider myself pretty healthy now, a long ways from where I was several years ago."

He looked at her with big, hazel eyes, that precious childlike surprise behind them. She saw Todd in those eyes and her chest squeezed with hurt for her brother.

"Be patient, Jedediah. Give him time to learn to deal with this illness. He won't be drawing all the light, all the nutrients, from this garden, forever. He will give it up for the other plants around him. Just give him time."

She winked at him and smiled, patting his shoulder. Some of the tension in him seemed to have lessened. The anger in his face had softened. "In the meantime," she said. "I will listen to you. Kevin will, too. Even Cassie. Come to our garden and you will get sustenance from us."

Jedediah heard her. Maybe I'll have to wait a few more days before leaving, Jedediah thought to himself. Again.

HELL.

The clouds overhead rumbled, scaring Todd and the little boy. The two looked up and the spirit flitted between them, assuring them that it was not Satan making the cracks but Him.

"Do not be afraid, His power is much stronger than Satan's; His love is infinitely greater than the hate and destruction of Satan."

Todd rolled his eyes in denial, "Aww, no...you lie, too. All of you lie..."

"Lie. What is a lie to you? Why do you say we lie? Who lies?"

He could feel her caresses on his body, warm and comforting, a butterfly's wings flapping against him. Anger crept into his features as he explained, "Everyone I know lies. And a lie is anything that is not the truth, not real. Betrayal. Peter in his refusal to tell me who my real father was, in calling himself my 'father' while he abused me. My mother in promising she would come back for me. Blair in all her schemes against me. Téa in her marriage vows to me. Sam in his continuing promise that he 'loves' me. Should I go on?"

"What about you? How many times have you lied to yourself about who you are?"

His face crumpled at her words, at how they sounded like Viki's, Rebecca's and Téa's. Even Blair's. How they all worked to show him the "truth", the supposed goodness inside of him. Goodness that he suddenly did not believe in. "No...no...I don't lie to myself. I know the truth!"

"Look at that child. That is you. All you." Thunder rolled across the sky, reverberating in his body. The little boy stood up and walked over to Todd.

The boy reached an arm around him and gazed up. Sang a child's rhyme, "Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb, and everywhere that Mary went, that lamb was sure to go..."

"You are His lamb, sweet, pure, gentle. Follow Him and He will guide you safely out of Hell. Out of dark valleys."

Todd cried out, "I can't! I don't see Him! I only see and feel him - Satan. End this, please end this..."

He got up, pushing aside the boy, and looked at the raging river, entranced, mesmerized. He looked in his hand and there he saw it. The knife with which he used to mutilate himself, to cut into himself. His skin was smooth and flawless, here. He was beautiful again, here. Lifting the knife to his face, he saw his own reflection in the glimmering silver, his eyes, his cheeks, his mouth. Perfect. No scar.

Lies.

With the knife firmly in his hand, he then reached his arm back with every intention of ramming it into his heart, to end this, to send his soul back to darkest depths of Hell where it belonged. He screamed angrily as he began to bring his arm back around with all the strength that his body could put into the swing.

Except before the knife found itself buried in the innermost reaches of his chest, Todd felt a strong grip on his arm, interrupting the arc. He gasped with the surprise of the stopped motion and the knife dropped to the ground, clinking as it hit, the sound of metal against tile. Like before, like what he remembered. From the Penthouse.

It was the boy who had Todd's arm in his grasp, stopping the desecration. The boy spoke in a child's voice but he spoke words of an adult, of a full-grown man, "You harm yourself, you harm me. You send yourself back to the arms of Satan, you send me back."

Todd's eyes were glazed over, not understanding why he was here. What did he have to do to end this? "You lie."

The boy smiled and said, "Let me show you." Then right before his eyes, he saw the boy begin to grow taller, his face slowly changing, maturing. His mouth dropped open with surprise as he watched the little boy change into a man, change into him.

"I am you," the boy said. "You are me."

Todd fell to his knees, "Mind tricks, these are just tricks...tricks..." When he looked up again the boy had changed into a child again and he was laughing, smiling at Todd. The boy wrapped his arms around Todd and held him tightly. "Trust me," he said, "You have a great purpose."

Thunder rippled through the level of Hell and the roar of the river seemed louder than before.

The doctor approached his office outside the lock-down ward, scratched his head and smoothed down insistent curls, stopping at the unexpected sight of Téa Manning near his door.

"Hi," she said. "Had to talk to you again."

"Sure," he responded, smiling openly at her. "You did good with Todd today. I was glad to see he could find comfort with you." He unlocked his office door, flicked on the lights and walked to his desk chair, sitting heavily, offering a seat to Téa.

She sat down, sighing. Happy to be off her feet. "I took a long walk around Llanview. I had to get air because no matter how many times Todd chases me away, it still hurts."

"I'm not that familiar with your relationship; has he always chased you away?" He tilted his head, true interest showing through his curious blue eyes.

"That's our signature pattern. He's closed off and angry. I push to understand why. He opens up a little. I push more. He shoves me out the door. He then calls me back. I say no. He offers a pittance of warmth. I come back. The whole thing starts all over again. Over and over."

She exhaled sadly, looking down. Remembering. Feeling the hits, the jabs, the tears he caused so often. When it was good, when he reached out to her, she experienced love in a way she didn't think possible. But was it love? Or was it a challenge? Pity? She couldn't be sure anymore.

"Todd doesn't share with me any good parts of your relationship, to tell you the truth," Tim said, tapping a bitten pencil against the blotter on his desk, drawing Tea's attention. Tap. Tap. Tap. "But, he asks for you. He's affected by you. So...there must have been some 'good' things." He stopped the tapping and proceeded to try to make the pencil stand up on the eraser end as he listened to her. It kept falling and he would catch it to try again. Over and over.

"There were good things," Téa offered. "Good moments." She tried to contain her emotion at her recall of the high points in their relationship, the ones where there was hope, where they thought they had a chance at a life together. Before Georgie, before the marriage proposal. It took her breath away… how their life had blown up in their faces. Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Of course there were. You wouldn't be here if there hadn't been." He stopped playing with the pencil, laying it down carefully. He then asked, "I understand he hit you. That's pretty serious. Surely you know that a propensity for spousal abuse doesn't bode well for his being in a relationship. And I also can tell you, he's in no condition to offer you anything in the way of a real marriage at this point."

Being a lawyer, she needed conversations to comply with trial rules. No narratives. "What's your question?"

"What are you expecting to get by being here?"

"I don't know. I understand the possibility for future abuse. I know all that. And with regard to this 'real marriage', are you referring to sex?"

"Yeah, I guess I am. Partly."

"We never had sex. In your context, we never had a 'real marriage'. It was a bargaining chip that we each held but never played. We always threatened to raise the ante - teased each other with it - taunted each other with it - but, still, we held on to that 'sex' chip."

"And so the game ended in a draw?"

"Yes, a draw. When he hit me, I hit him right back. I could have killed him. To tell you the truth, I provoked him to hit me. Doesn't excuse it, but it doesn't change the facts either. We were equally as sick at that time. Just in different ways."

"So, let's talk about why you're here."

"Well, I spent a lot of time today trying to figure things out. I guess there's a little guilt. I left him at a really low point and I think maybe I could've stopped this whole thing somehow." She played with the hem of her sweater, with one loose thread that refused to stay tucked in. She finally ripped the thread out, roughly.

"Don't go there. Everyone thinks they could have stopped him from attempting suicide, from falling apart, breaking down. Not true, Téa. It's comforting but false."

"Well, maybe there's unfinished business, then. Maybe I need to know it's really over. Or not. And maybe it's because I love him in spite of everything, because of everything." Tim started with the pencil again that wouldn't stand up on its own, that kept falling whenever it was let go. He returned his gaze to Tea.

"I was wondering if I could see him," she asked. "I'd like to talk with him...maybe. Let him know I really am here."

"Tonight?"

"I was kind of hoping that, yes."

Tim considered it, eyes on Téa. "I'll have to see," he finally said. "Hang out a while and I'll decide if he's up to it, if he wants to. It's the best I can do."

"Ok. I'll wait. I'll be in the...waiting room. Where...people wait..."

"By all means...wait..." They smiled at each other. Téa stood up and headed out the door, stopping to look back, "Thank you."

And she left, leaving Tim behind as he kicked up his feet on his desk and placed his hands behind his head, studying the picture of Jonathan on his desk. The lost one. The one he couldn't save.

To be continued…..