The next two days went by quickly. With some reluctance, John agreed to leave Jessie's side and stay at the penthouse with Robert, while Joey stayed overnight with her. And, John had to admit he did feel better and his leg had more mobility, with less pain, after a few days of sleeping in a bed and taking his meds when he was supposed to. He couldn't help but laugh when Robert got on him about taking care of himself, because he was like Bailey and Grace rolled into one, fathering and mothering him at the same time. He was happy that Patrick and Jessie had Robert in their lives. It was obvious that he cared for them deeply and although he would probably deny it, John had a hunch that it wasn't just Carolyn, Jessie, and Travis that was responsible for his father's turnaround, but he was sure Robert's friendship, loyalty, and brotherly love played a part in it as well. He had learned a lot about Robert, as well as more about his father, in the two nights he had spent with him and he had come to respect him for everything he had done for Patrick and Jessie, and often found himself wondering what it would have been like to have had him in his life, as Jessie did, when he was growing up.

John looked over at Robert from the passenger seat, smiled, then looked away. They were on there the way to pick up Jessie from the hospital, which neither of them was particularly happy, but couldn't do anything about, and Robert really hadn't said much all morning. John understood though, he wasn't talking much either. They were both tired and with John groggy from his meds and Robert suffering from a little hangover, it was easy for both of them to lose themselves in the fog that clouded their minds. But, John was sure that their condition probably wasn't the only reason for their silence, so leaning back into the seat, he closed his eyes, pushed through the grogginess and remembered the two of them just hours before...

Robert saw John glance over at him, but before he could say anything John looked away. He felt bad about getting drunk and dragging John down memory lane, but the closer it got to Patrick's memorial service, the more he felt he had to talk about him. He had taken three aspirin with his coffee this morning, so his steady, throbbing headache was now an intermittent pulse between his eyes, and hopefully, soon, that would dissipate completely, allowing him to concentrate and speak in complete sentences. He shifted in his seat, it seemed like being uncomfortable was the only way to keep himself awake, and thought about everything he had drudged up during his drunken trip down memory lane, and wondered how John, after everything he had heard, could be sitting next to him right now.


Hours earlier...

It had been a little rough for them both. Robert had drank a little too much and continued, like the previous night, to tell John stories about Patrick. He laughed, cried, got angry, hated him, loved him and felt everything there was in between, so John comforted him when he needed it and asked questions when he felt Robert wanted to indulge more into a particular story.

Robert was happy that John was interested in the life Patrick had after he and his mother left, especially after what he had gone through. Anyone else might have been jealous or bitter, but not John, and that was a testament to what kind of man he had become despite his childhood.

When Robert had gone quiet after a while, John figured he was getting ready to call it a night, or morning if you wanted to get technical, since it was almost three, but instead he sat up on the couch and looked as steadily at John as the liquor he had consumed would aloud, with tears shimmering in his eyes.

"Ya know," Robert's voice was a mixture of anger and sadness. "With Patrick...there was...he did a lot of things I didn't agree with or approve of, but it was his life and his business, so I let him go...let him make his own mistakes...and there were times, that later, I regretted not trying harder to convince him to do something different, if not the right thing...but I what I regret most, especially now, after getting to know you these past few weeks, is not pushing him harder to get back in contact with you. He tried once, after your mom's accident, but after your Grandfather told him that you thought he had killed your mother and that you hated him for it...it crushed him and stripped away any thought of you and him ever reconciling...but after what he had done to the both of you, he couldn't really blame you for feeling that way." Robert sighed and finished his glass of Scotch. "He really screwed up, didn't he? And, you really hated him for it, huh?" He put his glass down and when he looked back at John the tears that had been threatening to fall, rolled down his cheeks.

John suddenly had to wipe at his eyes. He wasn't exactly sure when and why he had started to cry, he just knew that he felt bad and he couldn't help himself. He shook his head and looked down at the floor. "I didn't...I didn't hate him, not really. Deep down, I knew...I knew he didn't do it. I knew he didn't kill Mom, as bad as he was to us, he would have never done that, but I was so angry...I was thinkin' that if he hadn't been hurting us, we would have never left Boston and she would have never been driving on that mountain road...it was so easy to blame him...God, losing her hurt so much...more than anything he ever did to me..." He choked back a sob before putting his head in his hands.

Robert leaned over and put his hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, John. I'm sorry I brought it up, the last thing I wanted to do was upset you. But, more than that, I'm sorry for what you had to go through." He squeezed and patted John's shoulder.

John picked his head up. "It's okay, I'm okay." He sat back into the couch and blew out a quivering breath and he half-smiled. "It wasn't all bad. There were times where he would leave me and Mom alone for months. He would come and go from the house like a ghost, it was like we weren't even there and we could do whatever we wanted and not be afraid of what he might do, ya know?"

Robert nodded, smiling sadly at him

John continued. "And then there were times, where he was actually like a real Dad. It was like a stranger took over, but it was still him...like he had a good twin and an evil twin inside him and every once in a while he would let the good one out."

"Really?"

John nodded. "My sixth birthday...that was one of the best birthdays I ever had and it was because of him."

"What did he do?"

John laughed. "He scared the hell out of me at first." He looked up at the ceiling and smiled. It was almost like he was watching the memory play out across a bright, white movie screen above his head. "He wasn't much for being involved in birthday parties or anything and my sixth birthday wasn't any different. Up until then it had just been family that was invited over to the house and my Mom would take me and a couple friends to do something fun the next day, but that year, he told her I could have a real birthday party at the house...whatever kind of party I wanted, however many people I wanted to invite, it didn't matter as long as it was all done and cleaned up by the time he got home at five o'clock. So, that's what she did. I had a birthday party with the works, with all my friends from school and the neighborhood...we had a blast. By four o'clock the party was over, everyone had left and we had the place cleaned up, looking like nothing had ever gone on. I went upstairs to play with my new toys while my Mom cooked dinner and at five o'clock when I heard his car pull up in the driveway, I thought 'We did a good job cleaning up, he's going to be happy.' Then, the front door opened and he yelled 'John, come out to the garage right now!' First I froze, then I panicked. I wanted to just crawl under the bed and hide, but I knew if I didn't go to him, that would've made it much worse. I started to shake the moment my foot hit the first step and it got worse with each step I took. I looked for my Mother when I finally reached the bottom of the stairs, but she was nowhere in sight, so I walked out the front door, looking like a death row inmate going to his execution. All I kept thinking about was what I could've done. Did we miss something in the party clean up? Had some of my friends gotten into the garage, which was his place, and made a mess? Or worse broke something? I had myself so worked up that I wished I had gone to the bathroom before I came out because I thought the minute I saw him I was gonna wet myself...it would have been all over for me if that happened. But then, I noticed the back of his car sticking out of the garage and I relaxed a little. My six-year-old logic was telling me that if something was wrong in the garage he wouldn't have pulled his car into it, so maybe it wasn't that bad. He came out of the garage and saw me just standing there, looking like a scared rabbit, and he surprised me because he looked sad..."

"He knew you were scared of him, he felt guilty," Robert told him.

John nodded, then continued. "I guess he realized I wasn't going to come any closer...or didn't want to, so he said. 'No one's in trouble, John. Come over here, son, it's okay.' Son. Now that was new. I walked up to him, slowly and he reached into the garage and pulled out a Big Wheel. My face must've lit up like a Christmas tree 'cause he smiled and set it down in front of me. 'Your Grandmother got me one of these, or something like it when I was your age and it was my favorite thing in the world. I rode it until the damn thing fell apart.' He put his hand on my shoulder, instinctively I flinched, but he didn't seem to notice or just ignored it if he did. 'Go ahead, sit on it.' I sat down and he picked it up and turned so that I was facing the bottom of the driveway. 'See that lever down there on the right...you pedal as fast as you can and then pull on that...you'll love it. It'll give you a hell of a ride. Go on, John, try it.' I did what he said...I pedaled as fast as I could and when I got to the bottom of the driveway I pulled the lever" John looked over at Robert, smiling like a kid in a candy store. "The wheels locked and I turned completely around, it was awesome, but that wasn't the best part. The best part was...he was laughing, really laughing, clapping his hands and yelling. 'Great job, son! That was a good 360!' I just sat there looking at him, not really believing what I was hearing and seeing. I felt something...it felt like something was crawling on my cheek and I wiped it with my hand...I was crying...I was crying because even at six, I knew how rare it was, how rare it was going to be, to see him like that...happy, laughing and cheering me on. I wiped at my face as I rode back up the driveway, I didn't want to ruin what was happening by him seeing me cry, and when I got to him he ruffled my hair and said. 'That was good, John. That was fun, right? How'd that feel?' He was smiling and so happy that he was almost bouncing up and down. I was so excited to see him like that I could barely talk, but I told him it was awesome and that he was right, I loved it. 'I knew you would.' He said. 'You go ahead and ride it until dinner if you want, okay? I may get a visitor, so keep an eye out for cars. Happy Birthday, John. Did you have a good day?' I just nodded, afraid if I opened my mouth I would cry again. 'Good. I'm gonna go change my clothes and clean up for dinner, I'll call you when it's ready. You remember what I said about keeping an eye out for cars, okay?' I told him I would. He started to walk away, and I don't know what made me do it, but I got off the Big Wheel, ran up to him and hugged him. I thought he would push me away because he stiffened up, I guess I surprised him, but I felt his arms slide around my back, so I hugged him tighter. 'You're a good boy, John.' He said. 'Happy Birthday, son.' He pulled away from me, smiled and walked into the house. Those...what?...fifteen, twenty minutes with him, they were the best birthday present he could have ever given me. I loved him that day, more than anything." John sat up and poured himself a drink. "I don't know what it was...what got into him and I guess, now, I'll never know, but I'm glad it happened."

"It didn't last long, did it? Patrick acting that way."

John shook his head. "Nope. A week later he split my lip. He backhanded me in the mouth for accidentally spitting my gum out on the den floor. I was watching Woody Woodpecker, in the middle of laughing my gum came out of my mouth and the next thing I knew my mouth was bleeding and he was standing over me. He said. 'I bet you next time you laugh you'll have no problem keeping gum in your mouth, will ya John?' Damn, he came out of nowhere, I didn't even know he was home."

"The way he treated you and your Mother, especially since I know it didn't have to be that way, because I saw how good he was to Carolyn, Jessie, and Travis, it disgusts me...makes me sick. But, you have to know, and you've heard me say it before, he regretted it, hated himself for it and would have given anything for a chance to make it up to the both of you. He never stopped thinking about you and he was always watching over you. Looking out for you. Protecting you. He was proud of the man you'd become and of the career you chose. He admired you for going against the grain and becoming a good cop, an honest cop, despite the family name you carried. Hell, we all did."

"Thank you." John wiped at the fresh tears that rolled down his cheeks. "Thank you, for telling me that." John yawned as he sat back into the couch. He was done talking about Patrick, it had mentally drained him, and he just wanted to close his eyes and sleep through the next couple of days, but he knew that was not an option. So, he changed the subject. "I'm worried about Jessie. She was acting funny today, yesterday too. I think maybe she's having second thoughts about Saturday and she doesn't want to say anything."

"I think so too, but if she won't tell us about it, there nothing we could do...the perfect example of the O'Doyle stubbornness." Robert watched John struggle to keep his eyes open. "I'll bring it up again tomorrow, maybe she'll change her mind and give herself a little more time. C'mon, let's get off this couch and drag our asses to bed. Tomorrow's gonna be tough and we'll need all the sleep we could get. I think Buccannon is going to discharge her about noon, so we'll head up there about ten, that'll give us about..." He looked at his watch as he stood up. "Wow, a good four hours of sleep."

"Ouch. It's really that late?"

"Yep. Sorry about that."

John stood up. "It's okay. Talking to you, it...uh...it helps."

Robert put his hand on John's shoulder. "Well thank you, I'm happy to help."


Four hours later they woke up and a half hour after that, well, here they were, in the car and on there way to pick up Jessie. Both wondering what the other was thinking and if they were alright.

"You okay?" Robert asked, finally breaking the silence.

John opened his eyes. "I'm fine, just tired. You?"

"Tired and hungover. About last night, I'm sorry for-"

"There's nothing for you to apologize for, Robert. Like I said earlier, talking to you helps. Talking to you is the next best thing to talking to him...you're the only one left who really knew him and I want to know whatever you want to tell me. Good and bad, I want to know the man you knew...the one Jessie knew. I want to know my Father again."

Robert smiled. "You will, I promise. Anything you need, John, I'm here."

"I know. Thank you."


Joey sat tapping his leg nervously. He didn't know what to do about Jessie. She hadn't slept at all in the last forty-eight hours and he was sure that she had taken more of the Provigil than should have, but she insisted that it was harmless and that she was okay. John and Robert didn't seem to notice how unlike her she seemed to be, but he thought, maybe, they were blaming her anxiety on Patrick's upcoming memorial service. Or maybe she was just good at hiding her behavior around them, but after they left and it was just the two of them, all that pent up energy came out full force. She couldn't be still for more than a couple of minutes, she was irritable, aggressive. One minute she was in his face yelling and then, she would be all over him, wanting him. They probably had over a dozen petty arguments in the last two days and he could only remember what three of them were about, the rest were just her going off on him because she was frustrated or confused easily. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to help her. She was like Dr. Jeckle and Mr. Hyde and it was taking its toll on them both. He was slowly losing patience with her, getting just as frustrated as she was.

When he heard the water from the shower stop flowing, he turned the t.v. on and pretended to watch it. He didn't want her to know he had been sitting there brooding. She came out of the bathroom drying her hair with a towel. Peaking out from underneath it, she noticed he had packed all her stuff for her and laid out anything she was going to need to leave.

"Thank you, you didn't have to do that." Jessie sat down on the edge of the bed and put her socks on.

Joey shrugged. "I know, but I wanted to."

She slid off the bed, walked over to him, leaned down and kissed his cheek, then moved her mouth over to his, kissing him softly. "Thank you." She whispered against his lips.

He couldn't help but smile and return the kiss. "You're welcome."

She gave him another quick kiss before straightening up and went to the other side of him to get her sneakers. She bent down to get them and as she got back up a wave of dizziness swept over her and she started to fall forward, Joey caught her arm before she could hit the metal arm of the other chair.

"Whoa." Jessie shook her head and stood up slowly. "Everything got fuzzy there for a minute." She laughed. "Thanks for catching me before I took a header into the chair." She went to give him a "thank you" kiss, again, but he got up from his chair and stepped away from her. His brush off stunned her. "What was that for?"

He paced in a small circle rubbing the back of his neck. "Nothing. It's nothing."

Another brush off, now she was angry. "What's your problem?!"

He stopped pacing. "You said those pills wouldn't hurt you! You said they were harmless!"

"They didn't and they are..."

"Bullshit! You haven't slept in two days, you buzz around here like a damn bee...I see the way you shake sometimes and I know the headaches are bad, I've seen the Motrin you've been taking. That stuff's affecting you, Jessie, whether you want to admit it or not. You need to stop taking it and you need to sleep."

"Well, thanks for the observations, doc." She said sarcastically. "And don't worry, I don't have anymore, so I'll be good as new in no time-"

"You took all those pills, in two days?! You doubled what you should have taken, Christ, it's no wonder you've been like this. You could have really hurt yourself. What the hell's the matter with you?"

"I'm standing here ain't I? Nothing bad happened, I'm fine. If you've been so concerned or unhappy with me, why didn't you say anything about it?"

"You're kidding, right? What the hell do you think we've been doing the last two nights? I've been trying to tell you, but you won't see it. We haven't had a normal conversation in two days, Jessie, and you haven't even noticed. We're either arguing, like now, or you're all over me...there's been no middle ground, it's been one thing or the other and it's making me crazy, okay? We need to stop."

"You know, it's funny..." Jessie's voice was dripping with anger and sarcasm. "I didn't hear you complaining about me being all over you when I was jerking you off last night...hmm, I must have missed it."

"See? Jessie...okay, ya know what? Now, you're just being a bitch."

"Really? That's just sweet of you, honey, thanks. But hey, I can fix this...you don't want to argue, you don't want me 'all over you', as you say...well then, we'll just stay away from each other for a while, okay? How's that? Then you won't be so tired anymore-"

"That's not what I want and you know it. Jess, I just want you to talk to me. Stop hiding behind everything and just talk to me." He stepped closer to her and reached for her hand, but she moved it out of his reach and took a step back. "Jessie, please..."

Her head was pounding and she wanted to rub her temples to try to ease the pain, but she wouldn't allow herself to do it because it would prove his point. She had to get out of there, away from him, before it got worse. She shook her head. "No, I can't talk to you right now, I need to think...and we need a break." She turned and headed out the door.

"You're okay with what's happening? We're not gonna try to fix this?"

Jessie stopped but did not turn around to face him. Her voice shook when she answered him. "No...to both questions." She walked quickly out the door before he could stop her or say anything else.

"Nice job, Joey. Nice fuckin' job." He told himself after she had left. He took a deep breath, to settle himself, and opened the door to go after her.

Joey stopped just outside her room. She didn't go far. He saw her standing in front of the Nurse's Station and watched as the nurse handed her some pills and a cup of water. He watched her take them and drink the water, then she sat, put her head down and rubbed the back of her head. He wanted nothing more than to go to her and just hold her, but he knew that's not what she wanted, so he watched her for several more minutes before going back into her room. She'd come back, he knew, after she had some time to herself.

Jessie leaned back against the wall and willed the Motrin to work faster. God, her head hurt and being angry didn't help much. She wasn't angry with him, not really, she was angry with herself. She knew he was right. He was right about all of it, but she had no intentions of conceding, and telling him that, not yet anyway. He had let things go for two days before deciding to confront her, that upset her, but him brushing her off at first, that did it, that really pissed her off. She hated that more than anything he had said. Maybe she was being over-sensitive, she's sure she was, but the last of the Provigil would be out of her system in a few hours, and she could feel her mind and body's need for sleep waiting, impatiently, just on the edge of consciousness, ready to ambush her and take over, but she wasn't going to throw in the towel yet, she still had some fight left in her.

Taking a deep, calming breath she decided it was time to go back to her room. "Ready for round two?" She asked herself as she stood. Starting to walk down the hall, she stopped and turned when she heard familiar voices coming closer. A half a second later, Robert, John, and Brian came around the corner and she smiled at them. 'Perfect timing as usual. So much for talking things out with Joey.'

"You ready to go, kid?" Brian asked.

"Definitely." She looked Robert and John over. "You guys look 'Dawn of the Dead', what'd you do last night?" She grinned.

John groaned and Robert mumbled something about more coffee and breakfast.

Jessie looked at Brian and laughed. "They even sound like zombies."


Tbc...