I don’t know. I … don’t know. Don’t … fucking … know. I don’t … know. Thumping his head against the concrete wall behind him, Todd fights for a semblance of stability - works for that even breathing, that emotional space where pain whips past him like a breeze on a summer day - smooth, easy … weak. Not enough force to rustle leaves nor lay down grass nor make a man shut stinging eyes against it.
He stops the rhythmic bounce and listens carefully for the prison guard - listens for the clang of a laden utility belt and the iciness of absolute authority over this isolated portion of the Llanview Women’s Correctional Facility. False alarm. He returns to his delicate chore and hears himself groan softly - an ache suddenly coming to life in his gut - Jesus, he wants to hold those boys of his. He wants to watch their every facial expression as they experience life, as they play. Mostly he wishes to revel in their peaceful sleep, stoned from a heated bottle of milk while a long cloudy string stretches lazily from an open mouth, leaving a wet kiss on the blanket that cradles a precious body. He loves them … he loves their mother.
Oh GOD … OH GOD …
Roseanne’s blood-curdling screams resonate in his head again … piercing shrieks about Tea, about how she’s going to lie down with that … bastard. How did she put it? Oh yeah, Tea’s gonna be fucking him. Another aching groan. They have the boys … our babies, Delgado, what are you thinking?. It’s gotta be she’s lost her mind thanks to people messing with her … hurting her … sending her spiraling out of control straight to Shelton of all people. Shelton … who’d taken Starr … who’d been ultimately responsible for all the trauma Tea went through. How did this happen? How does a woman stand before a man who’d hurt her … and … love him? Thump, thump, thump … he can’t breathe … who’s he talking about? Shelton or himself? Come on now, relax, don’t think that way … she’s not loving this guy. She’s running scared - she’s been messed with.
Do you hear the babies cry? They sing a melody of tears, a wailing song of desolation and abandonment carried by a jeweled wind … while their mother cries out a different song, one of lustful hunger … betraying them … and you. You.
He knocks back harder - more concentrated on the bit of distracting pain - and adjusts his mantra, “I don’t know that. I … don’t … know … THAT.” A jumble of echoing taps near his cell draws his attention and he waits for the approaching guests cautiously.
“He’s all yours, Mr. Gannon.”
Todd is relieved to see RJ standing there, even though he’s as unmoving as the steel bars themselves and stony faced except for a slight movement of his jaw. But then he seems to liven up somewhat, sniffing and turning as the guard yells to someone unseen to open the door. Rain water glistens all over RJ, beading on the fancy wool coat he wears. An image of a demon dangling a child in each of his hands torments Todd suddenly - the hopeless crying is so vivid …
“Thanks for coming,” he manages to say at last, “… thanks … thanks a lot.” Scrambling to his feet, Todd instinctively looks for his jacket and pats his pockets for his keys, except he doesn’t have them because they were taken away. Along with his wallet … his shoes … along with almost every last shred of his dignity. He looks at his silent friend again as RJ spots the bits of glass on the floor next to the bunk.
“Crazy storm blew the windows in … I got all that shit in my hair … scratched me up, too.”
RJ drags his eyes from the glass to Todd’s socked feet and moves them slowly upwards until he lands on a blooded chin - then he fixes on reddened eyes. Snorts in condescension and shakes his head. The jail cell door finally slides open and Todd ambles out, feeling like a whipped dog. They begin a slow exit from a claustrophobic maze of cells - he mumbles, “I know - it was stupid to come here … I get you’re mad about that. But I had to talk to her, man … I had to know … I had thoughts about what was going on and I needed to see it through. And … I found out some stuff … you know, she said Tea’s with that asshole - that … that Shelton! Shelton!!”
RJ doesn’t answer and Todd gets increasingly frustrated as they walk … pointedly asking, “Doesn’t this piss you off? Worry you more?! Are you even listening to me?!” Figuring RJ is mad about Todd seeing Roseanne and screwing it up, he gives up and more or less talks to himself. “Whatever. I don’t know, I figure he must’ve kidnapped her again … yeah, must be it - and you know, that WITCH … she’s a real voodoo fuckin’ witch … she messed Delgado up good … so good that she went with the guy. Delusional, you know? I think that’s it … I think … I don’t know … aww I don’t know anything. People are FUCKED … and we’re like, on the outside of this …”
“Can it, Manning,” the guard grumbles as they leave the cell block, a heavy door slamming behind them.
“I just got a lot on my mind. Sorry.” Todd doesn’t notice RJ clench his jaw at Todd’s mindless, ‘sorry,’ doesn’t see him tightening his fist.
They are now standing at a gated desk, a guard stamping some documents as Todd and RJ wait - the man smirks as he slides Todd’s belongings through an opening, “Now be good, ya’ hear?”
“Yeah,” Todd grumbles, taking his boots and putting them on gruffly. RJ glances at Todd, as if waiting for something. He’s almost glaring. After a second or two of intense silence, Todd spits, “Thanks for coming, man - I hate jail.”
RJ looks away - shakes his head again. Sniffs noisily and folds his arms across his chest. Todd doesn’t want to deal with the RJ-attitude anymore so he just grabs the rest of his things with a huff, illegibly signs the release paperwork, and sets his sights on leaving the damned place. Mustering the last bit of pride he has left, he straightens his shoulders, curses under his breath, and flies past RJ - he’s totally unable to sense his friend’s simmering temper, again chalking it up to plain old attitude. Doesn’t get it.
Once past the gates of the prison, he lets out a heavy breath and has to congratulate himself on achieving a blissful state of numbness about Tea and Shelton. ’Cause he’s relatively cool about it. Considering. Generally. Then a raindrop of a thought plops onto his shoulder: if in fact it’s true. Ohhhhh … denial’s even better than emotional insulation. He repeats - it’s not true. She’s not with Dean, that was some kind of bullshit by Roseanne to freak him out, like this whole deal with the mausoleum - sure. Just a part of his fucked-up imagination.
It’s not true.
Wet gravel crushes a couple of feet behind him, RJ catching up, but he keeps walking ’cause he doesn’t know what the hell is happening with RJ - he’s so quiet. The guy didn’t have to come - Todd had left a phone message, pitiful certainly, but RJ came nonetheless. Why? Just to see him humiliated? The fuck is his problem? If he wanted Todd to cool his heels, he could have left him overnight. He sees his truck at last, RJ’s sedan parked next to it at an odd angle.
Todd halts, throws his things on the hood of the truck so he can get search for his keys. He feels RJ tap his shoulder and turns around, ready to hear the shit he’s sure to get. When he sees RJ head on, RJ sniffs and rumbles, “Don’t you have something to say to me?”
“I did! Shit! I already said, ‘thank you,’ man, what the hell else do you want?”
RJ’s eyes narrow at that, zeroing in … the air stills with a kind of cosmic hesitation.
“How about this?”
With a heave, RJ reaches back and slams a closed fist dead center on Todd’s left cheek, hurling Todd against the truck then crumpling onto the dirt-covered ground. RJ snaps, “GET UP!! Get up, motherfucker!!” Todd only gets to his hands and knees, weakly. RJ is still plenty mad though, his temper not assuaged by one measly blow. “Awww … whatsa matter? Don’t like getting knocked on your ass, UNPREPARED??!! Huh?” He yells, “Come on … I’m all ready for you, NOW … this is what you wanted back at the Penthouse, right? You wanted some … so come on, bro, LET’S GO!!” RJ kicks at Todd … trying to get him to respond … except he doesn’t.
“I said, GET THE FUCK UP, you prick!! Let’s do this!!” RJ has raised his fists in a mock boxing stance, punching the air once or twice and dancing a couple of steps. His long braids sway as he kicks at Todd more. But his opponent chooses to stay down, gasping for breath. Disgusted and pissed, RJ ceases his movements and finally shakes his head. Open hands take up the hostile ballet, “What’s your fuckin’ problem, Manning?? All I ever tried to do is HELP you and your woman … and what do I get?? A punch in the fuckin’ head!! The FUCK is THAT about?!! Look, I dunno if you noticed, but ‘I’ am the only friend you got … so if THAT’S how you gonna treat me, well, y’know what?? You can KISS MY BEAUTIFUL BLACK ASS!!”
Todd drops his head, and all that comes out of his mouth is a pent-up, deeply held-back, thoroughly pained … sob. All that hurt from days of running on empty, days of battling himself and every other demon in his way, all the hurt over missing Tea and the boys, all of it comes pouring out like last night’s bad supper. Todd collapses forward, breaking down over everything … it’s all too much for him. The pain can no longer be denied nor hypnotized away.
“Ohhhh, no … oh, no-no-no … don’t EVEN pull that shit with me. Don’t you EVEN try to make ME feel bad,” RJ says, as he walks around him, his anger subsiding a bit as he realizes that Todd is … really crying.
“Oh, FUCK …” he mutters to himself, continuing to pace back and forth, “… it was one hit to your face, man, suck it up!! You pissed me off, you had it comin’!!”
Todd continues to cry … oh so miserably … saying incomprehensible words.
“Ohhhhh … sheeeit … look, I ain’t no doctor Phil, man, so shut-up already!! Jesus …” RJ shakes his head and finally leans back against the truck. Waiting for Todd to get it out of his system and letting go of his own pissed-off-ness. After a while, Todd does get under control, sitting against the tire of the truck with his head in his hands. Once up, he can only stare absently at the horizon, inconsolable.
RJ says in a soft tone, “Shelton with Tea ain’t no surprise. You knew that - I warned you.”
“My kids, man. My wife … she went through hell …” He chokes this out and then looks at RJ. Pauses before saying, “I’m sorry I hit you.” RJ shrugs slightly in response, unwilling to totally let the insult go. Todd then adds, “I’m sorry about the spitting thing, too.”
RJ squints in disbelief, “You SPIT on me?!”
“Yeah.” Although still in the throes of sadness, Todd raises his eyes and displays mild satisfaction at his getting in a return hit.
“Oh you fuckin’ … prick.” RJ shudders exaggeratedly, muttering about getting various kinds of diseases …
Todd glances away and the hurt swells inside of him once more, he taking an agonized breath. RJ pats his shoulder hard, “We’ll find them … figure it out.”
“I’m trying to make sense of it … and I can’t. I mean I know she was all screwed up … stuff was going on with her. I scared her … I really scared her.” He begins to cry at the memory and covers his face, but he doesn’t want to lose himself in this kind of useless pity so he grabs at anger which is always ripe for picking, always ready to be indulged in, like the brightest, reddest, apple off the lowest branch … easy. He storms off … strikes the air furiously and spins around tight to face RJ. “I don’t GET IT!!! The MOTHERFUCKER kidnapped her!! HE KIDNAPPED HER!! And she goes to HIM??!! FUCK!!! FUCK THAT BITCH!!!” He yells a wordless scream … paces more.
“I don’t know,” RJ comments more to himself than Todd. “Can’t make sense of it myself …” He thinks, though, thinks back to his conversation with Tea about her contacts with Shelton while Todd continues to rail nastily against the situation, against Roseanne … against everything and everyone. Background noise. She’d been so morose, so … distressed - empty. And definitely worked up over Shelton - protective in a cockeyed manner. She said that if RJ told Todd, Todd would want to kill Shelton and that would ruin everything … make their hard-earned life worse. He remembers the fear on her face … but what was she protecting? Her life with Todd … Todd … or Shelton himself, directly … specifically.
Todd and I … we're like … like a tightrope act. It's a very, very delicate balance … and it's a constant struggle for us to keep each other from falling …
And she ran off with the OTHER guy. Maybe Todd got too … difficult. And Shelton, maybe he’s actually uncomplicated … and he had offered a hand into a simpler hell - she was vulnerable, definitely … vulnerable. Taking a deep breath, RJ saunters to a still-ranting Todd and digs at the gravel with the heel of one of his shoes, shoves his hands into his coat pockets. Todd notices him at last and glares with heaving fury … not knowing where to turn at the moment.
“What?!”
RJ’s unruffled though and says, “Get your act together, Manning - this isn’t about you right now … your pride, your whatever.”
Todd couldn’t say anything, tightening his jaw.
“I don’t know the deal with Shelton and Tea… but he’s still the same bad dude … still dangerous … and no matter what, we need to bring her home. And you acting like King Kong n’ shit isn’t gonna do it.”
Todd resists RJ’s calm … but does swallow a burst of hate wanting to spill out. He stalks a path back and forth - tries to reach that state of numbness again, but it’s impossible now.
RJ adds, “I have a lead, I think. You … get some sleep and we’ll work on this. Later. You got me?”
After a few moments, Todd nods and gets into the truck. The two men agree to meet that night at RJ’s place. So he follows RJ out of the parking lot and hits the road - Todd’s heading to see Starr. Yeah, he has some making up to do. He needs love, damn it … and he needs to feel like he’s human again … as opposed to something else. Something unnamable. Yeah …
*********
The rain has stopped...and the total, unique silence of the country seeps into the tiny house. The crackling of the fireplaces going are about all Tea can hear now, as she sits by the crib in the bedroom...watching the boys falling fast asleep, their bodies warm again, and their tummies full. Neither Brendan nor Evan seem too affected by their time out in the rainy cold... lucky for me, she thinks, with a shake of her head. She chastises herself again, with an angry sigh, horrified at how incredibly stupid she could be sometimes. She watches them for a while longer, making sure they're settled. True, she's still new at the mother-thing, but it hadn't taken long for her to understand the babies' body language. She could tell if they weren't sleeping well, if they were feeling some gas pain or needed a change, and were about to start fussing.
But the boys sleep on, lying side by side in their fleece sleepers, peaceful as could be. She shakes her head again, at their resilience...especially considering that they'd been preemies, forced out of her early due to the trauma she suffered --- and that THEY suffered, as a result. Incredible... It really was. By all rights, these kids should have died. But thanks to medical advancements and Todd and RJ...they're all still here.
Todd… She closes her eyes, feeling awful again...feeling his absence, in the pit of her stomach. Knowing he can't possibly be in a good place right now...worried for them, scared, not knowing where they are, who they're with, or what happened to them...or even why they'd gone. Tea rubs her closed eyes roughly, guilt weighing heavy on her head. Well, shit...he should know...he must. He has to. I'm sure he's probably on a rampage, tearing the place apart right now. In the dark behind her hands and closed eyelids, she hopes that RJ is doing what she thinks he's doing...looking after him. RJ would have to be the rock now...the source of common sense and rationality for Todd, who was most likely out of his mind with all kinds of rage right now. She finds herself thankful that Blair had gotten Starr out of there...a thought she never imagined she'd EVER have. It fills her with equal parts relief for Starr and sadness for Todd, leaving her lost in the middle somewhere.
She lets the thought leave her in a heavy, heavy sigh, as she stands up finally...looking down at the boys one more time before leaving the room. She closes the door partway, as she steps into the living room, leaving it open enough to hear them if they start fussing. When she turns around, she sees a surprisingly cozy-looking living room, lit by the fire's warm, yellow-orange glow. Dean sits on the floor by the hearth, legs tucked under him, staring into the bluish glow of the laptop on the floor in front of him. He doesn't seem to hear or notice her at all, and she takes the opportunity to study him a little...watching him reading something...e-mail, maybe...occasionally typing. His other hand supports his head, elbow on his knee.
No particular thoughts go through her mind, maybe because she's too confused to think much of anything. There's only a vibe...a general sense of things being out of whack. Somehow, the world's spinning off-axis now, and the planets are slipping out of alignment...all because of her, because of her decision to come here, to this place...with this person. She rewinds her memory, back to that day...that horrible day. And she wonders...why? If all she wanted to do was get some space between herself and Todd, she could have...and SHOULD have...gone somewhere else. The very fact that she'd accepted Dean's offer makes her think twice about her own sanity. Why did I think this was a good idea again? Did I ever? What the hell WAS I thinking?
She sighs, shaking her head. Stop it, Tea. What's done is done. You can't change it now...you just have to deal with it. Besides, he promised you...you have nothing to fear from him. Not anymore. He promised. So just...clear your mind.
Dean hears her sigh, and looks up. He sort-of nods, acknowledging her without being too friendly. Tea nods back, with a thin, half-smile, as she strolls into the kitchen area. Not knowing what else to do, she opens the fridge, pretending to be engrossed by the few things in it. She sighs, knowing she can't stay there long, so...she grabs the can of coffee and shuts the door, shaking off the chill. Then she goes about the business of making some coffee, without looking at him. Dean watches her for a few seconds, scratching his nose absent-mindedly, before clearing his throat.
"Um..."
Tea looks up, freezing in her tracks, the scooper in her hand. Dean tips his head to the side, gesturing for her to look behind her. Tea turns around...and sees the coffeemaker, already on and the pot, half-full.
"Oh," she says quietly...then looks back at him. She shrugs her shoulders, before meekly putting the coffee away. While facing the fridge again, she rolls her eyes at her boneheaded-ness. Then she wonders what else she could possibly do to avoid interaction. She settles for getting some food together for herself, and grabs the block of cheese sitting there.
Dean lingers on her back, knowing she's trying to avoid him. So he sighs, heavily, rubbing his tired eyes. Then, with one last glance at his e-mail, he logs off and shuts the laptop down. Tea hears him moving about and looks up, watching him put the computer in a leather bag, then straightening up, stretching. He tilts his head back and forth, rubs the back of his neck...then grabs a mug off of the stone hearth. He then looks at Tea, as if to ask permission to approach. Tea eyes him, awkwardly, falling back on that thin-lipped, half-smile as communication...then she goes back to slicing cheese and bread. She hears him next to her, the clinks and clunks of the coffee pot being moved.
Then, as she tries her best to keep her eyes down, she suddenly hears the sound of a cup hitting the counter right by her. Slowly, her eyes move, across...then up. She sees a full mug of coffee, sitting there in front of her...and Dean, walking back toward the fireplace, still carrying his own cup, sipping out of it. He sits down in the chair next to the fire, settling back in it...without a word.
For a moment, Tea doesn't quite know what to do. Even after what had happened earlier, she still couldn't help but second-guess every look, every move, and every gesture, no matter how sincere or innocent. Then it slowly passes, as she again, realizes the futility of it. She sighs, looking at the coffee...black. Not how she takes it. So she turns back to the fridge, and grabs the milk, pouring some in to lighten it. Then she puts it back, and grabs the plate of filler food...and with another, 'get ready' sigh, she walks into the living room.
She puts the cup and plate down on the coffee table...and Dean looks over as she sits down, on the middle of the couch, folding her legs underneath her. She takes a piece of the crusty bread, putting two pieces of cheese on it, and taking a big bite. At that moment, her eyes meet his...and her chewing slows down, becoming more self-conscious. She swallows, a little too soon, and the food goes down in a big lump. Dean watches her make several uncomfortable faces as she tries to get it to go all the way down.
Finally...a hard, audible gulp. "Ohhh..." she says, immediately reaching for the coffee.
Leaning on his elbow, hand over his mouth, Dean suppresses a grin and an urge to crack up...sniffling instead, as he looks back into the fire. Tea takes a few sips from her cup to wash down the food, then puts it down. She sighs, settling back into the cushions...and she can't help but close her eyes.
