Max studied the blank wall in front of him, his blue eyes narrowed in deep concentration. The blank look on his face was almost comical and so lost in thought was he, that he was neither aware of it nor his reflection in the wall mirror across the room that Kris was trying her damnedest not to laugh at. What was it that he wasn't seeing? A few more seconds ticked slowly by before a soft giggle distracted him.
"Give up?" Kris asked teasingly. "That was twenty."
Max stubbornly fixed his eyes back to his thinking wall again before sighing and slouching in his chair in defeat. "Yeah, I give up. Who are you?"
"Richie Cunningham!" Jill interrupted before Kris could answer. "Gosh, you're almost as bad at this game as Kelly is."
Max turned to Jill, whose outburst was the first he and Kris had heard from her since Sabrina's abrupt departure over an hour ago. "Richie Cunningham?" he blurted out in exasperation. "Who the hell is that?"
Kris shot her sister a baffled look.
"Oh, C'mon." Kris sighed, when it became obvious Jill wasn't going to comment again. "Sunday, Monday, ha-"
"Aw, no. I hate that show." Max griped. "That's not fair. I don't watch it. Do over."
"You can't have a do over! No, you lose." Kris laughed. "It's not my fault you don't watch T.V."
It was Max's turn to laugh. "I do watch T.V.. Just you know...good shows."
"Well, what do you watch then?" Kris asked him, both amused at his offense and quietly thrilled that Jill had started speaking again. She fought for more light hearted banter in the hopes her sister would chime in.
Max thought for a moment. "Twilight Zone. That's more my thing." He answered finally.
Kris made a face. "Twilight Zone?" she echoed, purposely teasing him. "You're such a...such a-" Flustered by her lack of an appropriate word, she threw up her hands. "Such a boy! So shows need aliens and ghosts to interest you?"
"Not always." Max huffed. He thought for a moment. "But it does help. Tell you what, you let me know when Richie Cunningham meets an alien and I'll watch. Deal?"
Kris laughed and rolled her eyes. "Deal." She placated him.
The two laughed a bit longer and, thankfully burnt out on twenty questions, fell into an amicable silence. Jill had resumed her moody silence and though she didn't seem to want to contribute to any more conversation, the heavy atmosphere in the room seemed to have dissipated somewhat. Kris's eyes darted up hopefully to her older sister, lying in her bed. Once Jill got to talking, she didn't tolerate silence very well at all. She waited a bit longer for her and was completely and utter surprised when the next voice she heard was not her sister's but Kelly's.
"I am not bad at Twenty Questions." Kelly muttered defensively.
Jill looked up at her with a raised brow. "Kelly, for a licensed detective, you're pathetic at Twenty Questions." She said pointedly.
Kelly sat up in bed. "I am not. I just don't like playing it in the car. It gives me a headache."
"Oh, really?" Jill said flippantly. She shot her sister and Max a piteous look. "Fine. Put up or shut up, Kell."
"Fine. Are you a man?"
Jill rolled her eyes. "You have to give me a chance to pick somebody."
"Well, how long do you need?" Kelly goaded her. "I thought this was your thing. Let's play already."
"Let me think!" Jill raised her voice, though there was clearly laughter underneath. "Uh…how about…"
A slight shuffling noise caught Kris's attention and her stomach did a somersault when she turned her head and realized Alan was standing in the doorway. So focused had she and Max been on watching one of her sister and Kelly's odd reconciliation rituals, that despite both of them sitting closest to the door, neither had noticed it open.
"Alan." Kris squeaked out in surprise.
"Ugh. No, Kris." Jill scoffed. "And you can't just blurt it out! What's the point in- Oh…Hi, Alan."
With the room's eyes all fixed on him, it became immediately obvious that he wasn't here to check up on Jill.
"Hi." Alan whispered back, immediately thrusting the room back into the heavy tension it had been suffocating in all day. There was something quite different about his demeanor now. The muscles in his jaw were tensed, his fists were balled by his side, almost quivering as if he was trying his damnedest not to explode.
Across the room, Kelly had a sinking feeling that she knew why. Her face fell. "You're back." She said quietly. "I thought you had work to-"
"I do. But this can't wait any longer." came Alan's clipped response. He couldn't even manage a smile for Kris and Max this time. "Can you give us a few minutes? Please?" he asked in a strained voice.
Jill looked understandably confused. "I'd love to but…"
"No, I know." Alan said immediately. "Kris? Matt?"
"Max."
"Max. A few minutes, please?"
Not needing to be told twice and wanting no part of whatever upcoming conversation that Kelly and Alan were about to have, Kris was already moving towards the door. "Sure thing, Doctor Alan." Kris said quietly as she slunk toward the door. For whatever reason, Max had not followed, she noticed. He was staring hard at Alan, a strange look on his face, his jaw twitching as if he were about to speak. Kris tried and failed twice to catch his eye before reaching out and snagging his sleeve.
"Let's go." she whispered urgently. Max glanced at her, the spell suddenly broken before rising and wordlessly moving toward the exit, his gaze still firmly glued to Alan's back, that odd look on his face that was fast putting Kris on edge. "We'll be back later...I guess." she called nervously. No one acknowledged her and still in the dark about whatever was going on, Kris disappeared into the hallway, Max following reluctantly behind.
Alan stared hard at Kelly until long after the door had thudded shut.
For her part, Kelly could only stare back and wish Jill was able to leave as well. But she couldn't and, like it or not, this would all have to blow up with Jill right at ground zero. Jill wouldn't even say anything, Kelly realized, noting her friend's expectant stare. Even the chatty blonde knew that whatever was about to happen was between her and Alan and was wisely doing her best to shut up and let them talk.
"You're almost five weeks pregnant." Alan said in a voice that didn't sound like him at all. "Five weeks. And we broke up in January."
With a resigned sigh, Kelly finally faced him. "You wouldn't let me finish." She said quietly. "Earlier...when we were talking."
Alan looked incensed. "I wouldn't?" he echoed, his breath quickening. "You've had all day."
Kelly looked away. "I was trying to tell you. The nurse walked in and you had to go."
"And that was the only time?" Alan replied softly. "Right then? Not earlier?"
"I couldn't tell you in front of everyone."
Her weak excuse was met with contemptuous laughter. "You couldn't?" he said back. "Why the hell not? You didn't want your friends to know you were a liar?! It's a little late for that, isn't it?!" His voice began to rise with emotion, a man fast approaching his breaking point. "And then you lied to them again! And to me! Why, Kelly?! Why would you let me think that you were pregnant with my child?! What's wrong with you!?"
"Alan- I…I don't…I couldn't. Not in fr-"
"And Sabrina, Jill- why would you let them think that about me?!" he continued angrily. "I- I loved you, Kelly! What did I do to you to deserve that? Tell me what I did to make you….to make you lie about something so...so serious!"
Kelly buried her face in her hands. "Nothing, Alan. I just.."
Alan rushed forward and passionately took Kelly's arm. "What?! You just what?! You just decided to tell your friends that I got you pregnant and then-and then just left you!? That I was the kind of man who could be so...so-" he gave up, his voice near breaking. "Don't you have a conscience, Kelly? I spent the entire morning thinking I was going to be a father! What kind of person does that? How could you do-"
"Because I wasn't supposed to see you again!" Kelly shouted, suddenly just as angry as her ex-boyfriend. She jerked her arm out of his grip. "You weren't supposed to ever find out!"
The room was dead quiet in the wake of her revelation. Speechless, Alan could only stare blankly at Kelly, his chest heaving with emotion, unable to process such a ridiculous statement.
Finally, he rose to his feet and backed away from her, as if repulsed. "You…you weren't going to see me again…and that's why you could say something so horrible?" he said quietly in disbelief. His hands drifted up to his temples as if the inanity of what he was hearing was giving him a migraine. "I thought...I really thought I was going to be a father. And that-that makes it okay? Tell me…tell me how that makes it okay."
Kelly sighed. "It doesn't. Jill and Sabrina assumed you were father and I didn't correct them. I didn't know what else to tell them. I needed to say something so I could have some time to think and once I did…I…I was stuck. We had just broken up and-"
"And I was the means to an end." Alan finished for her. She didn't correct him either and beside himself with anger and betrayal, he could only laugh. "I can't believe I was ready to marry you." He went on. "I came over here like a...like a goddamn fool and I wanted to marry you." He shook his head in disbelief. "Why, Kelly? Why?"
Kelly said nothing. His voice sounded so hurt, so broken, that fighting hot, shameful tears was taking up all the strength she had.
"I suppose I should be happy I wasn't tricked into raising someone else's kid. Who is the father?" Alan asked softly, when it became a safe bet that Kelly wasn't going to continue.
"That's none of your business." Kelly whispered after a moment.
Alan looked as if he'd been slapped. "No. No, I guess it's not." He said coldly. "What business is it of mine who else my girlfriend is sleeping with?"
Kelly looked up at him and then averted her eyes. "If you're implying that I was unfaithful to you, then you're wrong." she answered emotionlessly. "We had already broken up."
"Broken up?" Alan echoed incredulously. "We didn't break up. You left me. For being stupid enough to want to get serious with you."
Kelly swallowed hard. There was nothing to argue about in that statement. As horrible as it sounded, he was right. "If you say so." She settled on.
Alan started to speak and then stopped himself and let out a long, slow breath. "I can't believe you." He spoke finally, his voice carefully controlled, a doctor again and not someone who loved her.
"You know, I came over here to tell you off. I wanted to yell at you and curse at you and….just…I've decided that it isn't worth it." He said slowly, suddenly looked tired and defeated. "Kelly, I could have made you so happy. If you really want to know the truth, after I got over the shock, I was thrilled that you were going to have my baby. I was ready to marry you, start a family with you….but, I see now that you just aren't capable of being happy. This... thing you have, Kelly, it's…it's sick. And I really thought that if I was good to you, if I loved you enough that I could fix it. But, I was wrong, Kelly. This is beyond me. I don't know what happened to you to make you this way. I don't want to know. But, you need help. You need a lot of help. What you've done, I'm not sure how you live with yourself, but I don't think a normal person could. I hope you do get help. And I also hope that one day you can be happy, Kelly, I really do. Just…just not with me. Far, far away from me."
Kelly said nothing, her tear filled eyes fixed stubbornly on the wall to her left.
After a few moments, Alan cleared his throat and wearily turned his gaze to a shocked and speechless Jill.
"Dr. Lee will be taking over for me." He explained softly. "I've given him your file and he should be in to see you in a few minutes. I don't what the hell is going on with you three, but I hope it gets...uh...resolved. No matter what happens, I wouldn't want anything-" His gaze shot briefly to Kelly and then back to Jill. "Just be careful, ok?"
Jill blinked. "I…uh…ok." She stammered.
Alan smiled sadly. "Goodbye, Jill."
Still stunned, Jill managed to unlock her tongue enough to respond. "I…bye. Oh, hey! About that message I left on your machine…I thought-"
Chuckling, Alan waved off her apology. "I know what you thought. Don't worry about it." He leaned forward and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Bye, Jill."
"Bye." Jill echoed dumbly. He swept out the door without another word for Kelly and, still dumbfounded, Jill watched him go. She laid in the silence with Kelly another full minute before she had processed enough of the last ten minutes to feel anger start to boil up inside her. She turned her head towards her best friend. Kelly's back was to her now, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs that had surely been pent up for some time.
But, pathetic or not, there was no pity to be had for Kelly Garrett.
It was time for some goddamn answers, no matter what emotional state Kelly was in right now.
"Kelly." Jill started, in a low, stern voice. "You better start talking. Right now."
The halls had long been scrubbed cleaned of the obscene amounts of blood that had earlier stained it's pristine white surroundings. To outsiders, these halls might appear as those of a hospital in the later stages of construction. To the unfortunate guests that never left, it would take shape of a prison. But to her, it had become known as home.
The peaceful silence was invaded by the sound of the blunt end of a gun scraping along the wall. Anna gripped the shiny barrel delicately with three fingers, as if she were an artist painting on canvas instead of dragging a gun up and down the smooth hallway wall. This was the very gun that belonged to the escaped, blonde detective, she thought idly to herself as she traced patterns on the wall.
Or so Irene said. She didn't doubt it. Anna didn't know much about guns, but she didn't need to know much to know that this was a fine weapon. It's heft felt good in her hands. It was sleek and shiny, obviously well cared for. Beautiful, just like its owner.
Jill Munroe.
Just the thought of her was enough to darken Anna's mood. She could feel the wound on her cheek, stiff and sore, where that girl had hit her and she dug the handle of the gun harder against the wall, digging in enough to scrape up the paint.
Irene had worn gloves when she'd handled the weapon earlier, turning it into evidence that could be used against Jill Munroe once she had used it for murder.
But, Anna was not Irene.
She was not interested in caution and strategy.
When she saw the gun lying on Irene's desk, she'd picked it up barehanded without a second thought. She'd never used one before though she'd been around them her entire life. Occasionally, as a child, she had snuck a look at her father's prestigious collection of firearms, some from the First World War, some dating back as far as the American Civil War. Only once had she collected enough nerve to open up the lid of the smooth glass case and actually hold one.
Even then, as a six year old girl, Anna could see – feel – their power, why people felt indestructible with one in their grasp. A quick death for those that opposed them.
If one preferred that sort of thing. She, however, preferred something more personal.
She tossed the loaded gun into the air, caught it by the handle, and tapped the barrel against the wall a few times, testing this new sound. Satisfied, she continued on her way, scraping the barrel as she walked. Irene would be enraged if she caught her, and the thought pressed a smile against Anna's thin lips. The thought of Irene's face, red and blotchy with rage, put a skip in her step, a stark contrast from the thundering footsteps the older nurse had been making into the early morning.
Anna's stroll came to a halt as she suddenly remembered which area of the hospital she was in. This wing of the second floor and especially the door she'd just passed, were normally off limits to her, but in between Irene storming about the lobby and the endless mopping, scrubbing and disinfecting, no one had been paying much attention to her. Which meant the unmarked door her eyes were now focused in on held an interesting opportunity. She leaned back, and let her feet glide over to the door.
Giving what was inside fair warning, she used the handle of the gun to knock as she gripped the sleek metal handle. There was a swarm of stifled whimpering that struck her hearing as she eased quietly into the room. Upon entering however, her face fell. The cluttered sound of mattresses squeaking and clattering metal normally would have been a joy to hear but this time they went unheard. To Anna's utter disappointment, she was not alone in this room.
By the time she saw the doctor standing over the big metal table in the corner, it was too late to slip back out unnoticed.
"What are you doing, Anna?" the doctor's heavily accented voice called to her. His annoyance was unmistakeable.
Anna didn't miss a beat. "I came in to see if you needed any help."
"Irina is the one who helps me."
"Irina is busy."
The doctor's gaze bored into her, cold and unfeeling. The answer hadn't pleased him and he was going to let her know it. Lights flickered in a vicious pattern overhead, and Anna made a quick mental note to change the malfunctioning bulb for her own sanity.
"Maybe she would not be so busy if you were downstairs helping her instead of, perhaps, in here tormenting my test subjects?" the doctor suggested icily.
Anna feigned surprise. "Tormenting? Pa-"
The doctor turned and held up one hand to silence her. He wasn't an especially large man, he was nearing seventy and his hair was a shock of white upon his head. Despite this, he had a powerful presence. No one dared question him and even Anna knew to hold her tongue when his hand came up.
"Stop, Anna. Do not open your mouth and start breaking the holy commandments by lying to me." He said sharply. "You have been in here. The evidence does not lie as easily as you do."
As he spoke, he stepped aside and swept one hand over the metal table where the dead body of a young woman lay sprawled, cold and pale in death, her brown eyes staring unseeing up at the ceiling. She'd died sometime between now and yesterday morning, Anna realized impassively, and death did not at all become her. Her skin looked stiff and pale, already a bluish tinge where the blood settled since taking her last breath. No longer appealing. Certainly nothing like the beautiful young woman Anna remembered. Her dark eyes passed over the dead girl's face and over the marks she'd made during their visit yesterday morning.
That face, which yesterday morning had all the attention of the doctor, no longer seemed to interest him. Regina had been her name. Anna fought the urge to smile.
"I didn't do that." Anna replied easily.
The doctor stared at her a moment before turning away and giving the young nurse his back. "You're lying." He stated calmly, but appeared to lose interest in arguing. " I'm going to get rid of your little playmate now. Since you've already made the trip, you can prepare the next girl."
Anna let her eyes sweep around the rest of the room, to the three hospital beds that took up the majority of the back wall. Three other young women occupied these beds. Two blondes and a redhead. They'd all been picked up weeks ago, mere days apart from each other, and their visit was starting to take its toll. They were much thinner than they had been and a bit worn looking. Still lovely though, Anna admitted to herself.
"Which one would you like me to prepare?" she asked.
The doctor made her wait for a few moments while he draped a sheet over the dead girl's body and unfolded the gurney that had been stored beside the metal table with a loud clatter. One of the girls in the hospital beds began whimpering weakly to herself at the noise and Anna's eyes drifted listlessly toward her. The redhead. As usual.
When the gurney had been unfolded, the doctor turned toward Anna and made his way over to the beds, looking between the three women with quiet contemplation. Finally, he nodded toward the blonde woman in the middle bed.
"This one." He answered at long last. The trace of irritation was suddenly absent from his tone. Anna witnessed one of his rare smiles. "She is very pretty, wouldn't you say?"
Anna rolled her eyes and crossed to the doctor's side. She had been hoping for the redhead but she knew the doctor's affinity for blondes and wasn't too surprised at his choice. Not bothering to mask her disappointment, she gave the girl a once over. This one was a bit older than the dead girl. Nineteen or twenty perhaps. Her blue eyes, dull and glazed from the heavy sedatives all three women been given, stared listlessly up at them. She was whimpering softly, but for the most part was calm and passive, barely aware of anything around her. Not a problem now, but she had been a handful at the start. Her wrists and ankles were still chafed raw from where she'd fought against the leather medical restrains that held her to the bed. Anna thought back to their first visit and smiled. She had been firey enough. She would do.
"She is pretty." Anna answered, her lips curled into a faint smile.
The doctor leaned over the girl to study her and, finding her mostly unaware, brushed his thick fingers through her hair. "She looks like Clara might have."
Anna's smile withered away at the mention of the name. "I suppose." She managed in a strained voice.
"Her eyes, her hair, the shape of her face." The doctor continued, unmindful of Anna's darkening mood. He smiled sadly, lost in memories long ago, and stroked the side of the blonde's face. "Just as Clara's. Your sister would have been a very beautiful young woman."
Anna's jaw tightened. "A shame she is gone." She answered without conviction.
"Yes." The doctor echoed absently. He stared awhile longer at the young woman's face before sighing sadly and tearing away his gaze. "See that you sterilize the table before you ready the new girl. And once that is done, I want you to go back downstairs. I'm sure Irina can find something for you to occupy your time with." He ordered, the annoyance suddenly back in his tone. He went to the dead girl's table, rolled her stiff body onto the gurney with a thud and began wheeling her towards the door.
Anna stared moodily at the blonde girl in the middle bed. "Very well." She grumbled.
"Very well." The doctor repeated, wheeling the dead girl out the door. "Goodnight, Clara."
Anna's head snapped toward him, her dark eyes shining with rage. "Anna." She said firmly, "My name is Anna, Papa."
The doctor blinked, suddenly made aware of his slip. "Anna." He corrected. "Forgive me, Anna. Goodnight."
With that, he was gone. The door clicked shut and Anna was left standing alone in the room. The light overhead flickered again and the redhead began to moan. Anna turned to her. The sedative was wearing off most likely. And that was just fine with her.
With trembling hands, Anna clutched the railing of the blonde's bed. Her breath began to quicken. If her father wasn't so near she'd surely scream her anger and frustration at him out loud. But that would not be enough. No, this affront to her dignity required more retaliation than just angry words.
Her hand slipped into her apron pocket and her long, slender fingers wrapped themselves around the handle of Jill Munroe's gun, now cold to the touch. She raised the weapon and lifted it out of her pocket. To her left, the redhead began to struggle weakly against her restraints, having obviously caught sight of the gun. Anna smiled wickedly and sauntered over to her.
"She is pretty, isn't she?" she asked sweetly, leaning close to the redhead's face.
The young woman shut her eyes tightly and turned away, still whimpering in terror through the gag in her mouth. Anna leaned closer, saying nothing, content merely to hear the way the rehead's breath began to grow ragged, to see her chest began heaving as panic set in. When her entire body was trembling and her face sheened in cold, nervous sweat, Anna dragged out Jill Munroe's gun and rested the barrel under the girl's chin.
"Do you think she's prettier than me?" She cooed. The sound of the hammer clicking back was deafening in the quiet of the room.
The redhead was lucid enough to understand the question. Eyes still squeezed shut, she quickly shook her head. She was crying now. Tears were streaming down the side of her face and soaking into the mattress below her head.
Anna laughed and pulled away. "You're lying." She replied softly, one hand delicately tracing the swollen and bruised left side of her face, fingers bumping over the many stitches holding closed the wound Jill Munroe had opened up with the metal tray. "The evidence does not lie as easily as you do."
Bored now with the redhead, Anna turned and leered down at the young blonde that her father seemed so taken with. She did look like Clara, she grudgingly admitted to herself, and felt her chest swell with hatred and jealously. They all looked like Clara. This girl. The one beside her. Jill Munroe. Blonde. Beautiful.
Perfect.
Her arm shaking with rage, Anna lifted the gun, rested the barrel between the blonde's eyes and, too worked up to have a second thought as to what she was doing, pulled the trigger.
Blood spattered along the back wall and across all three hospital beds. The redhead began to scream, thrashing wildly in her bed. The chaos filled Anna with a rush of excitement. She could already hear her father's footsteps pounding through the halls, racing back to stop her. It was too late though. He had to already know that it was too late.
Calmly, Anna took a step toward the second blonde, eyes still closed in sleep, aimed the gun at her face and a second gunshot echoed through the dark and empty halls of Divinity's Reach.
Anna couldn't change her father's taste, but she could certainly limit his options.