GROUP THERAPY - Complete (12/15/06)

[stormy]

CHAPTER 86 (Wednesday)

Wednesday evening, as soon as they were through with work, Jon and Darren raced each other to their new apartment. They found Adam waiting for them. Their usually placid pal was as impatient as they were, but they’d agreed to wait till they were all there, so they could all check it out at the same time. George had already told them it might take him a bit longer to get there, because he couldn’t always get off work at exactly the right time.

Adam couldn’t keep still. “I can’t wait to see what it looks like! It’s gonna be awesome, dude!” Since Jon and Darren had been saying variations of the same thing all day, they enthusiastically agreed.

Luckily for all of them, George showed up a few minutes later. They left their things in the hallway and crowded around the door.

Before the door would open, they all had to go through the annoying ritual of swiping their badges and wristbands. Everything had already been reprogrammed, so at least they didn’t have to go to the Security office.

Jon stepped through the door, and had enough sense to step to one side before he was bowled over by the rest. His jaw dropped in astonishment. They all stopped and stared.

“Fookin’ amazing!

”Dude! This is awesome!”

“It’s bigger than I thought. How’d that happen?”

“An’ it’s all ours!”

The front entrance led down a narrow hallway; about halfway down was Jon’s bedroom with it’s en suite bathroom, and at the end of the hall, on the left, Darren’s room. They all had their own bathroom, and huge walk-in closets that would, no doubt, be used for anything other than the storage of clothes. At the very end of the hall was a large storeroom, which was destined to become the home of anything not used often. The kitchen, off to the left of the hallway, was small, but designed efficiently enough that they could all be in there at the same time without being too crowded.

There was a wall between the right side of the hallway and most of the living room, but it was still possible to get from the front door to the living room or the kitchen. The living room was huge, about the size of Jackson’s entire apartment. A long couch dominated the back part of the room, along with four recliner chairs in front of it, and a small gaming table with four straight-backed chairs. The large, flat-screen TV at the far end of the room was examined eagerly. They all trooped over to the far right-hand side of the living room, to the door that led to George and Adam’s den. Darren had been disappointed that he and Jon didn’t have a den of their own, but it was pointed out that they were much closer to the kitchen, and had the hallway to hang out in as well. The den had a couch and two comfortable chairs, a couple of small tables and some shelves. At one end was the door to Adam’s room, and at the other end was George’s.

“Hey, Adam, is this what you thought it would be like, when you designed it?”

Adam shook his head. “It’s better. Way better! It’s not exactly like I thought, but it’s incredible!”

“One thing I really like about it,” George confided. “We all have privacy, and no one’s close enough to the TV to be blasted out of bed late at night, or early in the morning.”

“Yeah. At least we’ve all got the same schedule, so that should help.”

They saved the best for last. Quietly, reverently, they entered the sanctum sanctorum, the holy of holies, the home theater. Gregory had spared no expense; his little surprise for his youngest sons was awe-inspiring. It looked exactly like a small movie theater, the length of the living room, and about half its width. The walls were paneled with dark blue fabric. There were a dozen very comfortable theater seats, on risers, four to a row, so they could all sit with friends and all be able to see. The projection screen at the far end of the room seemed to be regulation size.

They all tried out the chairs, which reclined somewhat, and declared themselves in heaven.

“Y’know what’s one of the best things about this?” George asked, his voice betraying his excitement.

“What?” they all wanted to know.

“This room is totally soundproof.”

“Awesome!”

“Which means, if someone wants to watch a movie in here, and someone else wants to watch the TV in the living room, or listen to the stereo, or play a game...they can’t hear you if you’re in the theater. Adam will be able to sleep, if you guys want to stay up later, or do his art, or whatever, without being disturbed. I can sleep without being disturbed. Jackson, on the floor below, can sleep undisturbed.”

“Ah, good point there, man,” Jon agreed.

“We need another marathon, guys!” Adam suggested.

“Yeah, like right now!” Darren added.

“Maybe we better wait till this weekend for our marathon,” George advised. “We all have to go to work tomorrow morning.”

They reluctantly agreed with him.

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t watch something tonight, one movie!” George amended. “Let’s get out stuff out of the hall and get settled. Maybe we’d better find something for dinner.”

Jon investigated the kitchen while the others hauled their belongings in. He was delighted to find the refrigerator and freezer were fully stocked. Some of it looked semi-healthy, and a lot of it appeared to require actual cooking or preparation, so he grabbed a few of the frozen pizzas and turned on the oven.

While the pizzas were cooking, they discussed which marathon should be the first.

Darren voted for the Lord of the Rings trilogy, but George had another suggestion.

“Weren’t we gonna watch the Matrix movies next? I was thinking, if you guys really want to spend a little time with the few ladies we know, we’d better go for those.”

“Why?” Jon asked. “I know some girls who liked the Rings movies.”

“Yeah, but for a lot of women, including Izzie and Cristina, Keanu is perfect bait. They’ll sit through anything he’s in.” He mentally slapped himself. “Don’t tell them I said that, okay? But if you want to invite them, and maybe Sara and...who’s that other girl from the party? Rachel? Um, yeah. They might be interested.”

“Good idea, man!” Darren agreed enthusiastically.

“So how do we invite them?”

“We don’t have much time. I’ll talk to Cristina and Izzie. I don’t know if I can have all of us off at the same time, though. Sara’s working with us, and even if we can get Selena to cover for most of the day, we still need a doctor available.”

“There’ll be three of you here,” Adam pointed out. “Can’t Selena page you or something if there’s a problem?”

“I suppose so,” George said slowly. “Maybe I can see if Matt would be willing to help out.”

“Okay, that’s good for the weekend,” Darren pointed out impatiently as Jon took the pizzas out. “What’re we gonna watch now?”

It took some arguing, but they finally agreed on an action movie Jon had just bought, which had just become available. None of them had seen it in the theater. George expressed doubts about any of them being able to sleep after watching it, but he was unanimously voted a sissy, so he wisely kept his mouth shut after that.

They grabbed their pizzas and sodas, and settled in to watch Samuel Jackson, as a Federal Marshall, get medeival on some idiots who had been stupid enough to let loose hundreds of fookin’ snakes on his fookin’ plane. It was, indeed, awesome.

<><><><>

Darren loved his room. He’d found a great bed. Jackson had tried to talk him out of it, saying it wasn’t practical, but Darren ignored him. It was like a little room of its own, something called a loft bed. The mattress itself was on top, surrounded by wooden rails, to keep him from falling out. Under the bed was space for a computer, with a pull-out keyboard tray below and shelves above, and to the side of the desk, and below it, were drawers, where he could keep all his clothes. There was a wooden chair nearby, and a ladder attached to the side of the bed so he could get in and out easily. The ladder was completely vertical, but he didn’t mind; it wasn’t that much harder to climb than the others had been. He’d tried out all four loft beds, but he’d fallen in love with this one.

Since there was plenty of room for his clothes in the drawers, he would be able to do something more interesting with his closet. Maybe he’d buy an air-mattress like the one Jackson had, and turn the closet into his own little retreat where he could go if he had a headache. It’d be bigger than the tent, so he could turn around; maybe he could even put in a bean-bag chair or one of those inflatable couches. It was kind of like having two rooms in one. Yeah, definitely better than being so cramped for space at Jackson and Lisa’s.

After the movie, when he finally went to bed, he checked every inch of his room, just in case, opening all the drawers, even lifting up his mattress and looking under it to check. Nope, no snakes anywhere. He still slept just a little uneasily.

<><><><><><><><>

Lisa had some hard issues to grapple with. She was enjoying life on the island much more than she thought she would. Her new job was rewarding, she liked her new boss, in some respects, better than her old boss, or Jackson. She enjoyed Capa’s company; he was much easier to talk to than Jackson. For one thing, he actually listened to her. He cared, but not in a possessive way. He actually took her feelings into consideration.

Then there was Cillian. Her feelings for him were becoming complicated. She didn’t really know him yet, since he was still unconscious, but she was aware of the potential he held of having the best of Jackson’s traits and personality, without the bad ones. With luck, she’d never need to feel afraid around him. She was so tired of secrets, fear, and constant surveillance. She did miss the normality of her old job, the limited amount of security, although that had increased quite a bit since Jackson’s disastrous plan to assassinate Keefe.

She missed her parents, but had accepted the fact that they would go on to live their lives without her, as she would have to live without them. Her new life was definitely a mixed blessing. If she hadn’t been able to make some friends, and meet various people, it might have been very different. She shuddered to think what life would have been like if Jackson had kept her from meeting anyone else there. It wouldn’t have been healthy for either of them.

On the other hand, she’d become quite fond of most of his family, especially Darren. She was looking forward to checking out his new home the following evening. Jackson had wanted to go there right away, to make sure everything was safe (and possibly to check for listening devices), but she’d talked him into giving the boys a chance to settle in first. She suggested their time might be more productively spent in another way.

It was rather galling, actually, to realize that most of the free time they had together, they spent having sex. Not that she objected too much, but it seemed their relationship should be about more than that. Unfortunately, they didn’t have a lot in common, and Jackson wasn’t always the easiest person to talk to. Especially lately, when he was so moody and suspicious. None of these issues seemed likely to resolve themselves quickly, so as usual, she did her best to go along with things and try to be positive.

<><><><><><><><>

Jackson realized he should be happy, ecstatic even, that Darren was finally out of the apartment. He wasn’t that worried about him, since he had company, at least some of whom were responsible people. It wasn’t that he missed Darren; if that were ever to happen, it would take a lot longer before he actually felt it.

He should have been happy to be able to spend some quality time with Lisa, but he was distracted by all the various burdens he was carrying. For one, he was still having to spy on his family and their friends. Luckily, no one had said anything yet that he felt Gregory needed to know about, but he figured it was only a matter of time. Then there were all the secrets he had to keep from Lisa, and the worry about everyone’s safety. He was getting restless again, which was a bad sign. It was time to spend some quality time with his weapons, actually, but he didn’t think Lisa would understand. Tomorrow would have to be soon enough for more target practice.

He still felt oddly guilty about what he’d done to Jonathan, even though he could have done so much worse. Maybe it would have been more merciful to kill him, but who knows how Gregory would have responded to that. It was getting harder to anticipate what Gregory wanted, and to carry out his wishes without instruction, yet Gregory didn’t really like to explain things in detail.

Lisa didn’t push him to talk during dinner, apparently content to do all the talking. That was good, because he was preoccupied with thoughts of what, if anything, he could do to protect everyone against Gregory. Normally it would have been easy enough to find some way to take him out, but the man seemed to have thought of everything. Still, it was an intriguing intellectual challenge, and he did need some mental stimulation. He made sure Lisa had no idea of his thoughts; he managed to mumble an encouraging sound here and there when she spoke of her work.

Finally, something she said broke through his concentration.

“What was that?”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Why was that the only thing you heard?”

“What did I hear?” he asked cautiously.

She heaved a sigh of exasperation. “I said I had lunch with Dr. Capa again today. It’s one way to ensure he actually eats at least once a day.”

“Oh?” He tried not to sound too interested. “Where’d you go, the science lab cafeteria?”

Lisa shook her head, but was looking intently at her plate, though she’d stopped eating.

“No, we went to his apartment. He’d made some stew the night before, and wanted me to try it, his mother’s recipe,” she babbled on. “Since he doesn’t cook that often, I could hardly turn him down.”

“Sure you could have.” Now he was getting irritated. “Look, I understand he’s some science geek who probably hasn’t seen a woman in five years –“ He paused as Lisa started to choke. “You okay, honey?”

She nodded and took a sip of water. “Fine,” she croaked.

“The guy’s probably really lonely,” he continued, “but that doesn’t mean you have to be the one to keep him company. I’m sure it’s not part of your job description to socialize with him.”

“No, of course it isn’t. But he’s a nice guy, and interesting to talk to, and since it’s better than eating alone –“

He sat up straighter. ”A nice guy? Interesting to talk to?” He wondered if he’d heard her correctly.

“Yes,” she confirmed, her eyes glinting with humor. “Those are the kinds of qualities women like their friends to have.”

“Friends?” he repeated.

She paused, clearly considering her words before she spoke again. “Yes, you know, those people you like to hang around with in your spare time, the ones you care about and –“ She seemed to reconsider her words.

“Yes?” Jackson inquired politely. “Go on.”

“Friend,” she answered firmly.

“Really?”

“Pal.”

“Yeah?”

“Chum,” she tried again.

“Mm-hm.”

“Buddy.”

“What a concept. I’ll have to try it sometime.” He tried to fight the jealousy, but it was a losing battle. He wondered how Lisa would feel if he suddenly became best pals with Dr. Gorgeous – um, Dr. Stevens. Isobel? Yes. Or Izzie, according to George. He idly wondered if George’s other friend – pal, chum, buddy – was as charming and attractive as the blondely spectacular Izzie.

“Yes,” she agreed, her tone dry. “You should try making some friends sometime. You’ve got a start, but as far as I can tell you don’t do much to really hang out with Matt, or George. You sure didn’t seem too happy to see them last night.”

“I don’t have anything in common with them.” He leaned forward, his eyes and voice challenging. “Maybe I should meet this wonderful Dr. Capa of yours, since you seem to be able to make friends so much more easily than I do. Why don’t you invite him to dinner sometimes? Or the next time you or Kitten plan another godawful – er, family get-together.”

Lisa’s face was turning an intriguing shade of red. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Why not? Are you ashamed of him? Or of me?”

“That’s not it! I’m not ashamed of either of you. But he’s very busy, and his work hours are awkward.”

“Oh?” He decided to leave it at that, and see how long it took her to respond. About ten seconds, in his estimation.

“Well, he works till 10:00 p.m., so that’s really too late for dinner, and a bit late to stopy by a party.”

“And he’s there when you get there in the morning? Those are awfully long hours for a scientist.” He waited for her reaction.

“Yes, they’re ridiculous hours!” she snapped. “Gregory should be ashamed of himself for pushing them so hard.”

“Them?”

“His...scientists. Some of them.”

“Which division is it, again, that you work for? I’ve forgotten.” He didn’t care that she’d know it was a lie.

“Genetic Engineering.”

“Oh, that explains it. Gregory’s pet project.”

“So you can see why it’s not practical to invite Capa to –“

”Aw, come on,” he mocked, “the poor guy probably needs a social life more than I do. How many parties does he get invited to?”

Lisa looked rather panic-stricken, and he wondered what button he’d pushed. She was silent, and he decided it might be time to back off.

“Okay, fine, keep your mysterious friend to yourself.”

“Thank you,” she snapped.

Jackson sighed and picked up his plate, which was still half-full of food. “I’m not hungry. I’ve got some work to do in my, uh, office –“

”So that’s what it is!”

Lisa seemed absurdly pleased to have finally discovered what his secret room was for. Fine, let her think what she wanted. As long as she didn’t find out its other function, as a small armory.

“Sort of,” he amended. He took his plate to the sink. “I won’t be too long, I don’t think.”

“Take all the time you need.” Her words were pleasant, but her tone said she wasn’t going to wait up for him, and he’d better not wake her up.

Peachy.

He pushed his feelings aside and settled in front of his laptop. In a few keystrokes he had the personnel file menu up. He didn’t see the name Capa on the list. He entered it into the Search field, C-A-P-A. Immediately a large message popped up, saying “Access Forbidden.” Before he could hit the Escape key, the screen went blank. His internal messenger window popped up, and he automatically enlarged it.

DUNBAR: What the hell do you think you’re doing, Jackson?

He guessed it wasn’t a rhetorical question.

RIPPNER: Trying to find out about Lisa’s boss.

DUNBAR: Why?

Good question. Diplomatic answer, or the truth?

RIPPNER: I think she’s spending too much time socializing with him.

The response took longer than he expected.

DUNBAR: Explain.

RIPPNER: She’s had lunch with him a couple of times at his place, and she said something about them being friends.

DUNBAR: His place?

RIPPNER: His apartment.

An even longer wait.

DUNBAR: I’ll remind him he’s not supposed to fraternize with his employees.

RIPPNER: Good.

DUNBAR: I’m sure you think they’re having a torrid affair.

Jackson considered his answer very carefully.

RIPPNER: Maybe.

DUNBAR: Don’t be an idiot. They’re not.

RIPPNER: Are you sure? How do you know they’re

His father was an extremely fast typist, and interrupted his thought.

DUNBAR: Go spend some time with the girl, and stop trying to access confidential files. You should know better. Maybe you’re in need of a disciplinary review. And re-conditioning is long overdue.

Sh*t!

RIPPNER: I’m sorry, sir. I let my jealousy overcome my training. It won’t happen again.

DUNBAR: No, it won’t.

The message box closed, and Jackson knew better than to try to re-open it. His screen was still blank. He pressed ESC, but nothing happened. He had to reboot three times before his profile loaded correctly. He checked, and sure enough, there was now a sub-program running that would track his every keystroke.

Jackson took a deep breath. He wouldn’t worry until he received an actual summons with an appointment time. Until then, he really didn’t need to worry. And he shouldn’t. Some of his father’s threats were idle, just meant to keep him on his toes. Some weren’t. He sighed, and shut the laptop off. He wondered which one was more pissed off. He decided Lisa would be the easier to try to placate.

[stormy]

Here's something similar to the home theater, 2 shots:



and this is Darren's loft bed:


and some of the furniture:

[stormy]

I was finally able to resize it to something that can be seen, but also doesn't require moving the slider bar all over the place!
The boys' bachelor pad:

[stormy]

CHAPTER 87 (Thursday)

George was concerned about Alice, and had given a lot of thought to things Kitten had told him. He’d read everything in Alice's file, both volumes, and it just didn’t look right. From what he was reading, the last team of caretakers had done what they had to do, and very little else, to keep Alice alive and fairly comfortable. George felt she deserved as much comfort as she could possibly get. There were other things worrying him as well, and he had no idea who to talk to about them. Maybe his theory was completely off-base, but he needed to discuss it with someone, anyone, who might be able to reassure him he was wrong.

Now that he was completely paranoid about being spied on, George didn’t know what he should do. Normally he’d have talked it over with the his attending, but he hesitated to involve Matt. Gregory had said to contact Matt only if it were an emergency. Alice’s current situation certainly wasn’t an emergency, but it needed to be addressed. Would it be safe to bring up his suspicions? Matt could definitely be an ally, but Jackson hadn’t been kidding when he told them to be very careful what they said.

He could at least consult his staff...or could he? He wasn’t sure how much was safe to tell any of his staff – his friends – without exposing them to any unnecessary risk. They had a right to know they were being watched constantly...didn’t they? Did they even have privacy at home? It was a frightening thought, but not one he wanted to contemplate at the moment. There were too many questions, and not enough answers, as usual. In fact, it seemed there was only one person he could possibly talk to who might be able to help, and that was the last person he wanted to talk to. Well, almost the last.

<><><><><><><><>

Jackson was summoned to his father’s office at the end of his work day. This time his father wanted to talk about Darren. Jackson steeled himself for whatever bad news he was sure was coming.

“Since Jonathan isn’t available,” Gregory began, “Dr. Fairfield and I will be doing Darren’s evaluation. I’d also like you to be there.”

“What about George, or Adam? Or even Jon? Shouldn’t they be there as well? They’ve spent a lot of time with him lately.”

“I already have reports from George and Adam. Darren’s boss has given me a report about his work.” Gregory replied calmly.

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the idea of Darren’s friends spying on him, but it sounded like something Gregory would do. He quelled his curiosity about that. “What time, and where?”

“Tomorrow, 6:00 p.m., at Dr. Fairfield’s office. Which used to be Jonathan’s,” he added helpfully.

“Okay. I’ll be there.” Wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Gregory looked thoughtfully at him. “Is there something else on your mind, Jackson?”

Now there’s a loaded question. “A lot of things. Mainly, though, I’m wondering why Darren needs another evaluation. He’s doing really well, and he’s only been in his new place one day. Wouldn’t it be better to wait another week or two till he’s been able to settle in, and see how things work out?”

“Jackson, do you have a degree is psychiatry?”

Oh, he’s in one of those moods. “No, sir. You know I don’t.”

“Then why are you presuming to tell me what you think is best for Darren’s psychological well-being?” Gregory looked genuinely puzzled, and didn’t wait for an answer. “Darren needs to be evaluated on a regular basis, and since he’s had a drastic change in his living circumstances, and his regular psychiatrist isn’t available –“ He fixed Jackson with a steely glare, then continued, “– we don’t want to take any chances of him slipping into old behavior patterns, do we?”

“No, sir.”

“What are the other things bothering you?”

Like you care. Damn, what’s safe to tell him? “I’m still concerned about Lisa spending so much time at work, and being so close to her boss.”

“That problem will be resolved shortly. What else?”

Jackson tried to keep the panic out of his face and voice. “Resolved how?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Yes, it is! Sir.”

“Don’t argue with me, Jackson. It’s a waste of your time and breath. You’d be better off thinking about your own situation. Jonathan isn’t the only one around here who’s becoming a liability.”

Jackson stiffened, his jaw tight. “I’m doing the best I can, sir.”

“Yes, I’m sure you think you are. But whose interests are you serving? I need you to be loyal to me, Jackson. Perhaps I need to ensure you’re loyal to me, rather than others.”

“I’m doing the best I can under the circumstances. Yes, my loyalties are a bit divided, but most human beings would have the same problem.”

“Ah, there we go. Perhaps I should have been looking into artificial intelligence and robotics instead of.... Never mind. I still need people to work for me, but I can’t allow insubordination and sabotage. I’m quite concerned that someone – perhaps more than one person – is trying to ruin my careful plans. I need you to be more diligent in finding out who that is and what they’re trying to do. Before you take any action, consult with me. In order for you to focus on that task you might require some reconditioning, so you won’t be so distracted. You have too many concerns on your mind. Maybe you need to forget some of them.”

Jackson fought his rising panic. “Doesn’t the conditioning take some time? If I’m not available to do my work, you’ll have to find someone else, temporarily, and that might be a problem.”

“Yes, but it’s not your problem,” Gregory pointed out with a hint of a smile. “This evaluation of Darren’s will be important, for many reasons. Let’s both hope it goes well, for everyone concerned.”

<><><><><><><><>

Jon answered the intercom, relieved to learn it was Lisa calling. She wanted to know if they could stop by for a tour of the place.

“Sure, as long as you don’t turn it into a party,” he joked. “It is just gonna be you and Jackson, right?”

“I promise. We’ll be there after dinner. What time would be best for you?”

“Just a sec, Lisa, let me find out.” The guys quickly agreed that 7:00 would be best.

“I’ll let Jackson know as soon as he gets here. Don’t worry about getting things cleaned up,” she suggested. “We know you just moved in, so it’s probably not ready to be seen yet, but you know Jackson and his safety issues.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we know. Thanks, Lisa.”

“You’re welcome.”

He turned to his buddies and asked with a plaintive sigh, “So, how much cleanin’ up do we have to do?”

“Nothing,” Adam shrugged. “You heard the lady. It’s not that bad, really. A lot of our stuff’s in boxes, so it’s not like it’s really crowded yet.”

<><><><>

The “inspection” went well. Lisa seemed genuinely happy for them that they had such a nice place. Jackson did a pretty good job of concealing his envy, but Jon had a knack for observing people. Maybe it was something other than the apartment, though, that was bugging Jackson. Well, he’d talk about it if he wanted to. Meaning Jon was likely never going to find out what was bothering his brother.

The theater went over really well with both of them.

“I hope you’ll invite me – us over, sometime, to watch something,” Lisa sighed wistfully.

“Sure t’ing, Lisa! We just saw this great movie last night, and –“

”And it’s probably not something Lisa would want to see, Dar,” Adam interjected. “Maybe a comedy would be better.”

“I thought it was pretty funny,” Darren objected.

“Adam’s right, though,” George said firmly. “Trust me, Lisa, it’s not your kind of movie. Jackson might like it, but –“

”Now I’m curious. What were you watching?” Lisa asked nervously.

“Uh, can’t tell you.” George shook his head. “It’s not porn or anything like that,” he added hastily, as Jackson raised an eyebrow and Lisa giggled nervously. “Just a scary movie, takes place on a plane.”

She shuddered, and Jackson squeezed her hand while glaring at the boys. “You’re right, don’t much care for those,” she agreed.

“‘S’got snakes, too!” Darren added gleefully, as they followed Jackson back into the living room.

“Definitely not my cup of tea,” she reiterated.

Jackson looked around the room one more time. “Just remember, guys, you can’t spend all your time in here. You still have to go to work, at the very least,” he reminded them.

Darren snorted. “Yeah, Da, we know. Angus already told us.”

“Well, good. Very nice place, guys. Looks like you’ve all got plenty of room to yourselves, as well as places to hang out together. Should be a real nice set-up.”

“So, you’re not worried about any of the security stuff, huh?” Jon asked. “Nothin’ we need to worry about?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Jackson confirmed.

Both George and Adam seemed agitated about something, more than just having Jackson in their private domain, Jon thought.

Jackson said, “I want to inspect the outside of the apartment. It should be okay. George, Adam, I want to show you the sorts of things to look for, though, just to make sure no one can get in, or out.”

They both looked worried, but agreed.

<><><><><><><><>

Once they were safely outside, Jackson very slowly walked around the building, leading George and Adam. When they were out of hearing range of the nearest guard, he slowed his steps even further. “Listen up, both of you,” Jackson warned them.

They both stood up straighter.

“My father told me you’re both spying on the kids for him.”

George froze, dumbfounded. He turned to Adam. “You, too?” He turned back to Jackson. “It wasn’t my idea!”

Adam was looking at George in shock. “He asked you? Why both of us? I didn’t want to either, and I’m glad I’m not the only one, but – wait, that didn’t come out right.”

“Since I’m also spying on them, I can feel your pain,” Jackson said, only a hint of irony in his voice. “I think with all three of us it’s overkill. I’ll try to see if I can convince him you two shouldn’t have to keep reporting to him. He should be able to trust me to do the job.”

Adam cleared his throat. “I guess he’s thinking we could tell him stuff you couldn’t, you know, stuff you might not be monitoring.”

“Maybe.” Jackson didn’t have the heart to tell him how little privacy any of them had, in their spectacular, supposedly safe and private new home. At least he hadn’t found anything other that his own equipment there. So far it looked like Gregory was going to trust him in that regard. He’d put audio devices just in the public areas, the kitchen, living room, and theater. Of course, it would be hard to hear any discussion of insurrection over the sound of any movie the boys were watching... But maybe that was the idea. Give them bread and circuses. Keep ‘em entertained, then they’ll be too busy to rebel, or do much thinking about parts of their life they didn’t like.

“Your dad can be pretty persuasive,” Adam continued. “I didn’t feel like I had any choice. I didn’t want to lose my job, ‘cause I got nowhere to go if this doesn’t work out. No family, at least no one who wants me...”

“Funny how that works out here,” Jackson commented bitterly. “Just do what you have to do. You’ve both been doing a good job, from what I’ve seen, like at the store, trying to keep them in line. Just keep doing that. Let ‘em think, George, that you’re just exercising your Gregory-given powers of being the boss of them.”

“I’ll do my best,” George assured him.

“Good. Adam, I want to know when this started, and exactly what Gregory said to you. I know you like the guys, and don’t want to hurt them. But don’t hold back anything really important from Gregory, either. They seem to understand that you’re just more cautious than they are, and they seem to take it pretty well. Just be careful not to let Darren or Jon know what’s going on. You’ve both done pretty well so far.”

They seemed uncertain how to take that praise.

Adam shifted his weight, looking over Jackson’s shoulder, then behind them, and everywhere else he could see. When he seemed to be satisfied no one else was listening to them, he spoke. “Before I moved in, I guess a day or two after I started supervising Jon and Darren, Mr. D came to see me, and said he needed me to help him keep an eye on them. He said he was worried they might get into some kind of mischief, and not realize that it could be dangerous. He said there are lots of hazards here, and safety issues, and he wanted to make sure they were okay, especially Darren. He also said there’s stuff they shouldn’t talk about, to me or anyone else, but he needs to know if they do. I guess there are a lot of family secrets he doesn’t want to get out. So he’s been wanting me to report to him, every few days. Just stuff that might get them in trouble, before anything major happens. He said he was trying to help Darren. I didn’t want to do it, but he said I had to. I haven’t told him much, and kinda suggested they’re just being, you know, kids, and we all need some time to grow up.” Adam shrugged. “That was pretty much it. I was getting really uncomfortable about it, and I was thinking of talking to you about it. Glad you already know.”

Jackson nodded. “I just found out about this today. The two of you shouldn’t talk about it to each other, either. It won’t be that surprising, though, if you both, at different times, want to either drop by my office, or come by my apartment, to maybe complain about the noise, or petty little annoyances. Things that won’t get them in real trouble with Gregory, but that would be natural for you to go to their big brother to complain about.”

George heaved a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, man, thanks. That’ll make it easier.” Adam frowned as he thought of something new. “Does that mean we’re spying on them for you, too?”

Jackson forced back his initial response. It was understandable Adam might think that. He and George were becoming almost as paranoid as they ought to be. “No. I’m trying to keep them out of trouble. But if you’re concerned about anything, and aren’t sure you should talk to Gregory, come to me first.”

“That makes sense, I guess,” George agreed.

“And obviously, don’t tell Gregory about this little chat.”

“No way!”

“Absolutely not! Uh, you’re not gonna tell him either, right?”

“No,” Jackson sighed. “I’m not going to tell him. Besides, it’s not like you’re planning to overthrow his little dictatorship.”

“Would have no idea how to do it,” Adam asserted.

“I would think that would be more in your line,” George shrewdly observed.

Jackson chose to ignore the comment. “Adam, I guess you’d better get back. I think George needs to talk to me in private.”

George confirmed that.

“You can rescue Lisa, maybe show her some of your art or something, before Dar and Jon bore her to death.”

Adam grinned, obviously pleased to be able to show off his work. He ran off, looking much relieved.

Jackson turned his attention to George.

“Spill it.”

George took a deep breath. “I’m probably taking my life in my hands talking to you, because you’ll probably have to tell Gregory, but you’re the only one I can trust who might, in some way, be able to help.”

“I’ll have to hear what you have to say before I decide whether Gregory needs to know about it or not.” Jackson put on his best, “I’m here to help you” expression.

George still looked nervous. “He’s sworn myself and the rest of my staff to secrecy, but we’re really in a quandary.”

“Explain.”

“I’m concerned about the patient I’ve been assigned. I’m not supposed to talk about her to anyone, but I’m worried about her. She was given a whole new medical team a couple of weeks ago, and I’m in charge of her case. Izzie and Cristina are the interns helping me out, and Selena and Sara – not sure if you know her – they’re the nurses. Kitten is helping out as an Admin, and also keeping Alice company for a few hours a day.”

Jackson frowned. Kitten’s new job assignment had been sketchy, but he hadn’t thought to question it. He’d thought it was strictly as an Admin in some part of the medical department.

“Gregory is listed as her Medical Power of Attorney,” George continued, “so I have to ask him before I make any drastic changes to Alice’s medication.”

“What’s her last name?”

“Carroll. Alice Carroll”

“Hm. Don’t know the name, but –“

”There’s a book in her room of “Alice in Wonderland,” by Lewis Carroll,” George interrupted. “I’m not sure if there’s a connection, but is it possible Mr. Dunbar wanted to change her identity?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me, though I have no idea who she is.”

“She’s apparently some friend of Gregory’s, and was one of the founders of the institute.”

“Gregory doesn’t have any friends,” Jackson corrected automatically. “And his is the only name on the literature.”

“I’ve noticed that. Your dad’s kind of a misogynist, if you ask me.”

“Yeah, he is. Doesn’t seem to think women are very competent. Though if that’s true...most of your staff are female. Well, except for Kitten. But you’ve still got the only entirely male viewpoint there.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” George continued, still worried. “The thing is, Gregory’s the one who told me that stuff. So do I believe him or not?”

Jackson closed his eyes for just a moment. “I don’t really know. He certainly knows a hell of a lot more than I do, especially about ancient history here...but he’ll lie if it suits his purposes.” Jackson thought the whole thing sounded very strange. “How old is this patient?”

“Fifty-nine. She’s been in a coma for about twenty years. She apparently tried to commit suicide by jumping out a window from one of the upper stories, but somehow she survived.”

Jackson winced in sympathetic pain.

“She’s never going to be able to walk again,” George continued, “but I’d like to see her come out of that coma. Her face is messed up pretty badly, and I’m sure she’ll need emotional counseling. But the thing is, I’m hesitant to ask Mr. Dunbar if I can change her meds. Nothing about her care has been changed in years. Maybe he doesn’t want anything to change.”

“Why would he want to keep her in a coma? If she’s a co-founder, she must know this place almost as well as he does – hm, that might mean she might know more than he wants her to.” Curiouser and curiouser. Another thought struck him. “Why did he assign Kitten to be with her? What exactly is she doing?”

“I have no idea why he wanted Kitten there. Well, I do, but....” George hesitated, and seemed to change his mind. “Maybe because she’s so compassionate and patient. She loves talking to Alice, even though she doesn’t get much of a response. She says she sings to Alice, talks about her past, about her siblings, all sorts of things. Things that are important to her.” George was looking at him closely. “Kitten says sometimes Alice’s fingers tighten on hers, and sometimes the machines indicate she might be waking up. It’s always when Kitten’s there.”

“Maybe Kitten’s imagining it? She’s got a hell of an imagination.”

“I don’t think so. The monitors don’t lie. By the time any of us get there, though, Alice seems to have calmed down. It usually happens when Kitten’s been talking about the Institute or the family.”

Jackson allowed himself a smile. “I can see why those things would be upsetting to anyone.”

George paused, obviously conflicted. “The other thing is, Gregory sometimes visits Alice.”

“He does? Doesn’t seem like he’d bother to take the time.”

“He says they’re old friends, which I guess they must be, if they founded this place together, and worked together for years. Maybe she’s the only friend he’s got, or had.” He fixed his gaze directly on Jackson’s. “He has flowers delivered to her every day, fresh roses.

“He has roses delivered?”

“Uh-huh. Kinda romantic gesture, wouldn’t you say?”

“From most guys, one would think so... Gregory doesn’t do anything without a reason. If he were a normal guy, maybe he feels guilty about something.”

“If Gregory feels anything like guilt, it would be about a hell of a lot of things, I’m sure,” George suggested.

Jackson didn’t like the implication that was fighting its way to the surface. He was trying to push it back, because it was just too evil – just too Gregory-like – for him to want to acknowledge it.

George’s voice became stronger, less hesitant. “I was wondering about a couple of things. Could you check the personnel records to see if Alice Carroll’s listed? I want to see if there’s anything that’s not in her chart. I think there’s a lot that’s been removed from the physical chart.”

Jackson shook his head. “Nope. Wish I could help, but Gregory’s got a tracking program to tell him my every keystroke. So if he doesn’t want anyone to know about this Alice Carroll, he’ll have that name booby-trapped somehow. I can look down the list, but if her name's not there, I can't do anything further. It doesn’t mean her records don’t exist, but I’m sure Gregory would be aware if I typed her name into the Search field.”

“What if you used another computer?”

“Doesn’t matter. It would need to be done from my profile. Not too many other people would have access to those records.”

“I’ve tried looking her up in the patient records,” George explained, “and it’s the same as the actual file. I’m guessing there’s a lot that’s missing there, too. I would think, though, if this woman is so important to the Institute, there should be information on her somewhere. If you can’t do it, is there someone else who could do research about this? Someone we can trust, who has access?”

“No such person exists,” Jackson informed him. “But now you’ve got me very curious. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Well, I had another idea, and you’re the only one who can help me with it. There are not only medical monitors, but all kinds of cameras and microphones in different parts of Alice’s floor. She’s not in the same VIP room you were in. Apparently it’s more isolated. It’s on Floor 13.”

Jackson sighed impatiently. “There is no Floor 13.”

“Trust me, there is. It’s all devoted to Alice. There’s even a private operating room. Think about it, Jackson. Six people to care for one patient? A patient who’s an old friend of Gregory’s, who he doesn’t want anyone to know anything about? Someone even you don’t know about?”

“I hear you,” Jackson responded. “You say he assigned Kitten specifically to sit with her and talk to her?”

“Yes.”

“When was this?”

“We started on the Monday after our movie marathon.”

“A lot of us started new jobs that day. Let me think – that was also the weekend Matt moved in with Kitten. I bet Gregory was furious about that – maybe it’s one of his exquisitely painful punishments, perhaps? How much do you know about Kitten?”

“Enough to understand how important this particular patient might be to her. And you.”

“Hmmm. Let me see what I can do.”

George shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “What I was thinking is, since there’s all this surveillance equipment anyway, like in my office and the front desk, so we can be aware if Alice starts showing any signs of change – would you be able to sort of redirect that surveillance to your computer?”

“No. Same reason I just told you. Let me give it some thought. I’m sure I can think of something. Thanks for telling me, George. I really hope your theory is wrong.”

“I do, too,” George said fervently. “I already feel sorry enough for Alice as it is.”

“Yeah, I get that. The one I feel really sorry for at the moment, though, is Kitten.”

“So, did I do the right thing in telling you this, or are you gonna have to, uh..." He laughed nervously, then finished the thought. "... kill me now?”

Jackson knew what Gregory’s opinion would be. “You did the right thing. You’re safe. At least for now.”

George licked his lips and closed his eyes briefly, then stood up straighter and looked directly into Jackson’s eyes. “If you do ever have to – you know – could you at least make it quick? And maybe painless?”

Jackson felt like he’d just been stabbed in the gut with one of his own knives. The truth seemed like the best answer. “Yes. I promise.”

George took it well. “Okay. Good. Uh, thanks. One more thing...”

Jackson waited patiently.

“Should I talk to Matt about any of this, at least the medical stuff?”

“Medical things, yes, you probably should, if you want to change the medication. Any speculation about anything at all – no. He’d probably be tempted to talk to Kitten. Let’s not cause them any problems, okay?”

George agreed.

Jackson made a show of pointing out the non-existent possible loopholes in security, that might allow a very determined ant to get from the outside of the building into the apartment, then they went back in and tried to pretend everything was normal.

[stormy]

CHAPTER 88 (Friday)

Jackson had already done some research on Darren’s new doctor, and hadn’t found anything objectionable in the man’s past. Aside from the fact that he chose to work at the Institute at all, that is. He had a PhD in Psychiatry from the Georgetown University Medical Center in Washington D.C., a bit more impressive than Jonathan’s degree from Gotham University. Fairfield was born in England, family moved to the States when Robert was a teen. He’d managed to retain the British accent. With the help of a mellifluous voice, long blond hair and eyes that looked like they’d seen too much of the world, Jackson was willing to bet Fairfield had been quite popular with the ladies back home. Though he was only in his mid-thirties, he was very well-regarded in his field. So far Jackson had found nothing to indicate any mental illness in the doctor himself, or any propensity towards over-medicating his patients with experimental pharmaceuticals. So far, so good.

Jackson arrived at Dr. Fairfield’s office early. He wanted a chance to talk to Darren briefly, if he could. Unfortunately, Gregory arrived soon after. Darren wasn’t late, but he barely made it under the wire. Gregory didn’t say a word when Jackson handed Darren a sealed bottle of water.

“T’anks, but what’s it for?”

“In case your mouth gets dry, or you get thirsty. I’m not sure the water in the office is safe for you to drink.”

"It's probably safe enough now," Gregory commented, but Jackson wasn't about to trust him.

They were called in for the appointment, Gregory greeted Dr. Fairfield and introduced him to his sons. Jackson’s first impression was that this guy was definitely an improvement over Jonathan.

For one thing, he treated Darren like a human being, rather than a lab rat. Dr. Fairfield took one of the chairs in a semi-circle in front of the desk that had once belonged to Jonathan. Jackson noted with relief that the bloodstains had come out of the desk, through some miracle of cleaning solution. The carpet had been replaced. Darren sat next to Jackson, and Gregory sat a bit apart from all of them.

The psychiatrist smiled briefly at Darren, and took out a pen and notepad from his briefcase. “As you’ve probably been told, Darren, I’m taking over for Dr. Crane while he recuperates.”

“When’s he gonna be back?” Darren asked plaintively. “I wanna see what Jackson did to him! He won’t tell me.”

There was only the slightest hesitation. “I have no idea when Dr. Crane will be back at work, but I certainly hope he makes a swift recovery. I’ve been going over your file, and it looks like you’ve made a couple of big changes recently. Since you’ve been here, I believe.”

“Yeah, I guess. I just moved in with my brother Jon, and a couple of our friends. We have a cool new place!”

“So I’ve heard. How is that working out?”

“It’s great so far!”

“Are you all getting along all right?”

He shrugged. “Sure. Place is big enough we’re not, like, tripping over each other like we were in Jackson’s place.”

Dr. Fairfield smiled with genuine warmth. “I can see how it might have been a bit cramped for three people. You have your own room now, do you?”

“Yeah!” Darren’s enthusiasm was palpable. “It’s almost like havin’ two rooms, with the closet. It’s big enough I can put the air bed in there, and I’ve got a bean-bag chair if I’m feelin’ good enough to sit up. No light in there. There’s a place for a bulb, but I took it out.”

“Ah. You’re not afraid of the dark, then, or enclosed spaces?”

“Naw. I know there’s nothin’ in there that isn’t s’posed to be there.”

Jackson thought Dr. Fairfield’s approach was much better than Jonathan’s. His tone was warmer, and though his words were almost as formal as Jonathan’s, the overall effect was more of professionalism rather than superiority.

“It must be a relief to have somewhere you can go if you’re feeling stressed or in pain. Do you leave the closet door open when you’re in there?”

“No. Why?”

“Just in case there’s some kind of problem and you need some help. If your bedroom door is closed, and the closet door as well, and there’s no light, it might make it harder for someone to know where you are in case there were a problem.”

“Haven’t needed any help yet, an’ no problems,” Darren explained.

“If you did need some sort of medical help, do you think you could rely on your roommates for assistance?”

“Sure,” Darren shrugged. “George is a doctor. Jon and Adam are both kind of – I dunno – thoughtful-like. They’re a lot more aware of other people than I am, ya know?”

“They sound like good friends to have. Now, ignoring the fact that your father and brother are in the room, how do you feel about your family?”

Darren was much more wary now. “You want the truth?”

“Yes, please.”

“Then they can’t be here.”

Jackson held back a smirk. He didn’t care what Darren might say about him. His father, however, might care very much what Darren said about any of them.

Dr. Fairfield raised an eyebrow inquiringly at Gregory.

“Dr. Dunbar, do you mind if Darren and I speak privately for a while? I can call you back in when we’re ready.”

“Dr. Dunbar?” Darren repeated.

Gregory looked at him scornfully. “Yes, Darren, I have a Ph.D. Three of them, actually, in Genetic Engineering, Biochemistry, and Sociology. I don’t insist people use the title ‘Doctor,’ as some find it too intimidating.”

Meaning they found Gregory plenty intimidating enough without any additional psychological armor, Jackson thought.

“Okay.” Darren sounded rather subdued.

Gregory stood up. “Very well, Dr. Fairfield, Jackson and I will be out in the waiting room.”

Jackson was leery of leaving Darren alone with a stranger, especially considering some of the nasty pharmaceutical surprises Jonathan had pulled, but it didn’t seem he was being given a choice.

<><><><>

Dr. Fairfield looked more relaxed once Jackson and their Da were out of the office. “Now, if you feel more comfortable, please tell me whatever you’d like to about your family.”

“I dunno. Gregory and Jackson both said I shouldn’t be talkin’ about the family to outsiders.”

“I understand that. Gregory has spoken to me about that. But since I’m going to be your psychiatrist, at least until Dr. Crane is able to resume his job, I’ll need to know as much as I can in order to help you.”

“Do you really wanna help me, or is this just some game Gregory’s playin’, to try to lock me up?”

Dr. F didn’t look as surprised as Darren expected.

“I realize you’re concerned about that, and rightly so. I know Dr. Dunbar would prefer that you receive treatment under highly controlled circumstances – meaning, keeping you as an inmate in the psychiatric wing. I’m not convinced that’s the best place for you. I’m trying to determine if living with your brother and his girlfriend, and now with friends, has been helpful.”

“Yeah, a lot! I mean, there were times it kinda drove me crazy, all these rules about what to do and not do, but it’s not the same as with Gregory. He wants me to be just like everybody else, I think, but at least Jackson and Lisa want me to be me, just more like – so I can sorta blend in better with other people, I guess. Same with Jon, Adam and George. I think they like me the way I am, but sometimes they tell me to be quiet or somethin’ like that, but they’re not trying’ to tell me what to do. They want me to learn to be more – what’s the word? Considerate, yeah, that’s it. Same thing Lisa was tryin’ for.”

“How do you get along with the rest of your family?”

“Okay, I guess. I don’t like Jonathan much – Dr. Crane. He wants to lock me up, same as he done for Jon and everybody else. But I’m not crazy. I’m just not like ever’body else. Don’t want to be.”

Dr. F nodded as though he really understood. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be yourself. There are times, though, when it’s best to go along with whatever the norm is for society in general. You have to figure out when it’s appropriate to act like most others do, and when it’s best to be yourself. That can be tricky to figure out.”

“Yeah. Kitten’s tried to explain it to me, but it’s confusing. That’s my brudder Patrick, but we all call him Kitten or Patricia. He likes dressin’ like a lady and havin’ people treat him like one, but he’s really not. I mean, he’s still a guy under his dresses an’ stuff.”

Maybe Dr. F already knew about Kitten, but he didn’t look too surprised.

“How do you feel about Kitten? Do the two of you get along?”

“She’s okay. I mean, we get along fine. She’s kinda bossy, too, but not in a mean way. She just wants everybody to be happy and be friends and all that. Like she wants a real family, you know? Not that we’re like real families – other families. But that’s what she wants, kinda normal stuff. At first she really confused me, but not on purpose. I guess most people know she’s a guy, but they pretend and go along with it. Kitten likes to pretend, all kinds of things. I like that about her. She’s got this boyfriend, I guess, Dr. Matt, and he’s okay. He was the first doctor I saw here.”

“Dr. Crower?”

“Yeah. He’s pretty nice. He was tryin’ to help me. I don’t really get the thing with him and Kitten, but I just don’t think about it that much, you know? As long as they don’t do anything in front of me, I’m okay. I don’t like being confused.”

“Most people don’t,” Dr. Fairfield said in a confidential tone. “Some people want everything to be straightforward and honest and exactly the way it seems, but life doesn’t usually seem to work out that way. That’s why it’s helpful to be flexible, to adapt to different circumstances as they happen.”

“Yeah, I know all about that. I don’t like it when things change, but they just do. First my girl, Runt, they took her away from me, sent her to this special school. Didn’t even get to say goodbye. Ma wouldn’t tell me where she was at first, then she said if she told me I couldn’t ever come back home again. I left right away, soon as I knew where to go. Got a bus there, all by myself. Was gonna go find Runt at the school and take her away, go someplace where we could just be us. Didn’t happen, though. Jackson showed up. I didn’t even see him, he just shot me, I guess, with this dart-thing, and knocked me out. Next thing I knew I was in a plane, and he was starin’ at me with those scary eyes, tryin’ to tell me he was my brother. Didn’t believe him, though he does kinda look like me.

“He brought me here, wherever this place is, and I met my Da and the rest of my family. Don’t like Da, Gregory. He’s a mean, vicious, controlling old fook, he is. Likes to play with people like we’re, whatchacallit, pawns or somethin’. Or like we’re all in a game o’ Dungeons and Dragons, and Gregory’s the Dungeonmaster, and a dragon and orc, all mixed up.”

Dr. F smiled, then coughed behind his hand. “Do you resent him for having you brought here against your will?”

“Fook yeah! Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Darren, I would,” Dr. F said, sounding more emotional than Darren expected. “And how do you feel about Jackson now?”

“I didn’t like him at first, but once he explained things to me, and I could tell he was tryin’ to help, but he was just goin’ about it all wrong, then that made me feel a little better. I didn’t want to stay with him. I wanted to stay with Dr. Matt at the hospital, but they wouldn’t let me. So Gregory said I should stay with Jackson an’ Lisa, since Jackson didn’t think I belonged in Jonathan’s nuthouse.” He blinked. Maybe that wasn’t the nicest thing to say to someone else who worked there. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Go on.”

“Gregory asked if Jackson thought I was dangerous, and Jackson said no, so Gregory said I should live with them. He said if they got tired of having me here, or I was causing trouble, he’d have Jonathan commit me.”

“How did you get along with Jackson, and Lisa?”

Darren took a sip from the water bottle as he considered his answer.

“Pretty good. A lot of times they acted like a Da and Ma, but it’s like they didn’t really notice they were doin’ it. He told me what the rules were, and there were a lot of ‘em, but I tried to get along. He didn’t get too mad if I forgot stuff, and Lisa was pretty nice about it. I still like her a lot more than him, but he made it real clear she’s his girlfriend, so I should treat her like a sister or somethin’. I understand that, but I can’t find a girl here, ya know? Nobody seems to want to go back out there, to the real world, and bring back a girl for me. I wanted them to bring Runt here, but Jackson says she’s better off where she is. I think maybe he’s right. I dunno if I could protect her here, the way I should. It’s like I gotta be careful all the time not to get myself in trouble, and I don’t wanna have to worry about her, too.”

“That’s understandable. What about your other siblings? How do you feel about them?”

“I really like Jon. He’s not that much older than me. We’re livin’ together now, in what used to be his apartment, but we rebuilt it. I mean, Jon and me, we’re workin’ with the guys that did the building, now, construction stuff. At first Jackson had me painting this hallway. Jon was helpin’ me with the painting, then Adam was like our boss. That was great. Now he’s livin’ with us. He’s this artist, really good stuff, ya know? He drew the apartment, designed it, and Gregory said we could have it, just like Adam drew it. It’s nice to have friends, ya know? An’ Jon’s like a friend, even though he’s my brudder. I never had a brudder before. Adam’s kinda like a brudder, too. Or maybe it’s just ‘cause I didn’t have any real friends but Runt before, so I’m not that sure what’s brudder-like and what’s friend-like, but we all get along. George, this friend of Matt and Kitten’s, he’s living with us, too. Gregory wanted a real adult there, an’ George is old, he’s like 25 or 26 or something, so that was good enough for Gregory.”

Dr. F coughed again. “Excuse me.” He crossed the room to get to the water dispenser.

“Hey, wait! Be careful, that water might not be safe. Jackson said.”

The doctor paused. “Thank you, Darren. I understand your concern, and your brother’s. I’ve replaced the water in here several times, so it should be fine.” He poured himself a cup and sipped it, then returned to his chair.

“Please go on, Darren. You were telling me about your brothers, and how you feel about them.”

“The other brother, the last one, is Jim. I don’t know him that well. He and his girlfriend, Selena, they kinda keep to themselves. They’re nice, but not real social, ya know? We went to their place when they first moved in together, and it was really nice. I liked the artwork Jim was doin’. In fact, I want Adam to see it. I want Adam to help me with my painting and drawing and stuff, so he said he’d help, but maybe Jim would be interested, too.”

“It sounds like a good project for all of you. You seem to be making friends pretty easily here.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He shrugged. “It’s not like I’m really tryin’, but I keep gettin’ introduced to people. Kitten wanted me and Jon to meet George, and he’s got these friends, these girls – not girlfriends, but friends who are girls, you know? I met one of them, Izzie, and she’s real nice, and real pretty too. I think Jackson likes her, at least, I’ve seen him looking at her sometimes the same way he looks at Lisa, but he doesn’t want Lisa to know it. I dunno if he’s gonna do anything about it, I think he just likes looking, but Lisa might get mad anyway, so he’s bein’ real quiet about it.”

Darren paused and drank more water.

Dr. Fairfield wrote something on his notepad. “Let’s talk about some of the things that concern your father. Do your friends understand that sometimes you get very angry, and depressed, and don’t know how to handle your feelings?”

“Yeah. They’re the same way, though, so they’ve kinda figured out ways to do other things. I mean, they’re more depressed than me, or they were. Jon tried to kill himself by drivin’ a car off a cliff, and Adam thought about it, but he didn’t actually do anythin’, he just kinda pulled away from everybody. His mom killed herself when he was young, and his dad died just before he came here. Adam and Jon are both tryin’ to help me figure out what to do if I get mad, so’s I don’t hurt somebody else. Or myself.”

“Can you talk to them if you have a problem?”

“Yeah, I guess. And there’s always George. He’s a good listener. They all are. They let me talk the way I want, and can usually figure me out. George is a little calmer, I guess, than the rest of us, but Adam’s pretty mellow, too. Dunno if it’s ‘cause George’s older, or a doctor, but he’s more responsible-like. So’s Adam, and he’s only a year older than me, but he’s been through a lot of sh*t in his life that I haven’t, so he’s had to learn to deal with stuff.”

“Do you think Adam will be able to help you learn how to deal with stuff as well?”

Dr. F was smiling, but in a nice way, not like he was making fun or being mean.

Darren shrugged. “I guess. I can ask him what he did. I think his art’s one thing he does that helps.”

“I’m a firm believer in letting the subconscious express itself through creativity.” Dr. F saw that Darren didn’t quite get what he was saying. “I think anything that’s creative can be a way to get your feelings out, in a good way.”

“Yeah,” Darren nodded, “that’s what I was thinkin’. So if Adam can teach me and Jim and Jon how to paint and draw an’ all that, maybe it’ll help us all.”

“That would be wonderful.”

The doc really did sound like he meant it.

“I read a report from your boss that he’s very satisfied with your work. He thinks you’re doing a good job and have a good attitude. He knows you’re not entirely happy working construction, but he thinks you’ll grow into the job.”

“Whassat mean?”

“I think he means in time you’ll like the job better once you get more used to it.”

“Dunno. Maybe.”

They were interrupted by rather impatient knocking on the door.

Dr. Fairfield got up to let Gregory and Jackson in. Gregory looked very annoyed. “Are you still talking about family?”

“Oh, no, sir, I’m sorry,” Dr. Fairfield said smoothly. “I’m afraid I got so caught up in the session I forgot you were outside waiting. Please do forgive me. Mr. Rippner, I apologize.”

Darren was surprised that Jackson didn’t look pissed. If anything, he looked like he thought it was kinda funny.

<><><><><><><><>

Jackson kept his thoughts to himself, waiting for Gregory to ask for his opinion. He didn’t want to hold his breath until such time as that might happen, so he relaxed.

“I was just telling Darren about Mr. Ferguson’s review,” Dr. Fairfield explained. He turned his attention back to Darren. “Do you think Mr. Ferguson is right, and you’ll be able to stay with the job?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s okay, an’ I like the guys I’m workin’ with. Angus is okay, for a boss-type dude.”

Jackson wondered how Darren would know how a “boss-type dude” was supposed to behave. No doubt he’d picked up the phrase from Adam. The kid had a lot of potential, if he had the right guidance and could get rid of the sharp edges. So did Darren, for that matter.

“Are you satisfied with your living arrangements now?” Dr. Fairfield continued.

“Yeah, everyting’s great!”

Jackson was pleased with Darren’s enthusiasm. Hopefully even Gregory would be won over by that excitement.

“Do you feel as though you’re able to handle problems if they come up, without resorting to violence?”

“I guess.” Darren seemed to realize how important the question really was. “Like I said, I’ll talk to Adam about he how deals with stuff like that, see if he’s got any ideas that might help.”

“Good. And you’re going to look into the art therapy – that is, ask Adam to teach you more about art. Is there anything in particular that you’re having problems with, that you’d like to talk about?”

Darren slid his gaze over to his father, lingered a moment, then he looked back at the doctor. “No, I’m okay.”

“Well, it certainly seems like you have a wide variety of people to talk to if anything does come up. Please don’t hesitate to contact me, either.

“Our session is over, but with your father’s permission, I’d like to schedule weekly therapy appointments, 45 minutes, twice a week. Perhaps Mondays and Thursdays at 5:15? That way you can be home shortly after 6:00, so it won’t interfere too much with your time off.”

“Meetings like this?” Darren asked.

“Not exactly. Just the two of us, talking in my office, about whatever you want to talk about. We can discuss your progress, or whatever has come up since the last time we spoke.”

“Okay with me,” Darren agreed.

Naturally, Gregory had an opinion.

“I don’t think Darren is ready for individual sessions just yet. I’m concerned about your safety, Doctor.”

“Oh, it’s quite all right, Dr. Dunbar. I’ve worked with patients before who were violent, or had the propensity for violence, and nothing’s happened yet. If you’d like to have a security guard nearby, outside the door, that might work, but I don’t really think it’s necessary.”

Jackson was pretty sure Gregory was concerned more about what Darren would say than the possibility he might hurt Dr. Fairfield. On the other hand, how many spare shrinks did Gregory have, if something happened to this one, too?

“It sounds like a good compromise to me, sir,” Jackson ventured.

“I’ll get back to you about this at another time about this, Dr. Fairfield.” Gregory turned to Jackson. “I’ll get back to you, as well.”

Jackson didn’t think it sounded like it would be good news. They all left the office together.

“Why don’t you walk Darren home?” Gregory suggested. “I’m sure you have things to talk about. I’ll see myself out.”

In moments Gregory was gone. Jackson and Darren both sighed in relief, then laughed. “C’mon, Dar, let’s get you back to your place. I’m sure you’re anxious to get back.”

“Yeah. But I can get there on my own. I know where it is now.”

“I know, but Gregory said I’m supposed to walk you home, so let’s not disappoint him, okay?”

Maybe Darren realized the comment wasn’t as flippant as it sounded, because he was pretty subdued on their walk.

“Okay, I guess we should take Gregory’s advice, and talk while we have the chance. Is there anything you want to talk to me about?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What did you think of Dr. Fairfield?”

“Nice guy, for a shrink. I like him a lot better than Jonathan.”

“Me, too. Maybe if we’re lucky he can stay on as the head of the department.” Jackson realized as soon as he said it, that if that happened, it wouldn’t be good for Jonathan, at all.

“Maybe. D’you think he treats the patients the same?”

“I doubt it. Who knows, maybe this guy can do you some good. You’re adjusting really well, but you’ve been through a lot, so I think talking to him a couple times a week might help.”

Darren stuck his hands in his pockets and walked slower. “I guess. Sounds okay. I liked talkin’ to him when you and Da weren’t there.”

“That’s the way it should be. It’s how things are done in the real world.”

“The real world?” Darren squinted at him, like trying to figure out what he meant was too much for him.

“Any place that’s not here. Everything here is a bit off from the way things usually are, so it might do you some good to get more normal therapy.”

“Yeah, maybe. Do you think Da’s watchin’ us all the time, or got somebody to do it? ‘Cause I feel like someone’s always watching me, like I look around and think somebody’s there, but they’re not.”

Jackson was silent, trying to figure out the safest way to answer him.

“I know it sounds kinda crazy, right? But that’s not what I mean. I’m not seein’ things that aren’t there, but just – I dunno.”

“Becoming more paranoid.”

“Is that when you think everyone’s out to get you?”

“Yeah. But they also say, it’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you.”

Darren was quiet the rest of the way home.

[paddykitten]

ooh, so intense (and am i the first to comment?! yesss, haha)
this is awesome, the plot thickens. i cant wait to hear what happens in jackson and lisa's relationship, how that advances.
a suggestion i guess, maybe some from capa's perspective... i want to know how he really feels about lisa
oh, awesome as always stormy ;D

[stormy]

Thanks, paddy! Reaction to the story is appreciated. There will be more soon on the Jackson, Lisa and Capa situation. It's been written, it's just not ready to be posted yet. If this blasted heat would ease up I could do more writing & rewriting. At least I've finally come up with a final scene I really love. I want to finish this project so I can do other things I really want to do, but I have to really be satisfied with the whole story first. It does help, though, to know someone is still interested in how things are going to turn out!

[pseudo]

I'm still here and enjoying it ! I just don't have much time to comment after reading :X. Great job though, as always~!

[stormy]

Thanks, pseudo! Glad you're still reading.

I just had some major revelations about the story early this morning, that I didn't entirely realize I was waiting for. As usual, my conscious mind is writing one thing, my subconscious another. They're starting to work nicely together now, which is good news for the story. It's great news for me, since it means I should be able to finish this project sometime in the forseeable future!

[stormy]

CHAPTER 89 (Friday night)

Lisa was relieved to see Jackson wasn’t back yet from Darren’s evaluation. This way he didn’t need to know how late she was coming home. Not that she should feel guilty – she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Not anything like what he was thinking, anyway.

She reviewed her lunch-time conversation with Capa while she prepared dinner.

“Jackson said he wants to meet you. He was being facetious at first, I think. But now he’s serious.”

“Why?” Capa asked sharply.

“He’s jealous.”

“Of me?” Capa looked both astonished and affronted.

“Yes. He thinks we’re having some mad, passionate fling, and that’s why I’m working late, and having lunch with you in your apartment. He probably thinks we’re doing something else right now...”

Capa blushed. “Ah, not that I wouldn’t be – that is, it’s never crossed my mind – of course that’s not –“ He paused. “Um, that didn’t come out right. It’s better to have him think that than find out what we’re really doing.”

”I know, but he can still be a little scary when he thinks someone is invading his territory.”

Capa’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Be very careful, Lisa. I know I’ve told you that quite a few times already, but you know just how dangerous Jackson can be. In fact, I’m not sure you do. You saw him before our father got hold of him and started messing with his mind. In some respects he’s more stable now than he was, and in others, he’s extremely volatile. Especially where you’re concerned.”

“I don’t know why he became so fixated on me, and had to have me here.”

“Part of it was the conditioning, I think. Gregory told me a little bit about it. At first he was hoping to influence Jackson to kill you, and be done with his obsession that way.”

“Great. Thanks. Now I feel better.” Lisa lost her appetite.

“But the good news is, somehow Jackson persuaded him that he’d actually be more mentally stable if he had you with him, to balance things out in some way. Maybe the conditioning backfired and just made his obsession stronger. I don’t understand that part of it. But Gregory and Crane agreed he should bring you here, and he’d be less likely to be distracted from his work.”

“Terrific. Now I know why we’re not supposed to ask questions here.”

Capa shrugged. “If you don’t want to know –“

”Don’t ask. Right.” Lisa put her face in her hands for a minute, then looked up again. “Jackson’s definitely not the same guy I met last fall, thank God, but only some of it’s an improvement. He’s really trying, I think, to make this relationship work, but –“ She stopped, unsure if she should say more. Was it right to confide her misgivings to anyone else?

“But what, Lisa?” he prodded gently.

“I don’t know if it’s going to work out. If he starts really scaring me, I don’t want to be around him. I took him down once, but I’m not sure I could do it again, with all this conditioning and what-not.”

Capa was nodding. “You may be right. It’s best if you don’t come to a physical confrontation. On the other hand, are you seriously considering leaving Jackson?”

Lisa sighed heavily. “I don’t know what I want. I’m not even sure if I’d be allowed to leave him, or if Gregory would suddenly decide I’m no good to him on my own. I don’t know if I could trust Jackson not to stalk me and – stalk me again, that is. Damn.”

Capa lightly stroked her hand. “Lisa, I’m so sorry all of this happened, and I’m sorry you’re caught in the middle of all this. I don’t know what kind of assurances I can offer you that will make you feel better, or safer.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think there’s anything you could say right now. I want to trust Jackson, and I’m really trying, but he makes things so difficult. He doesn’t like talking about problems. He’s so used to keeping secrets from everybody, I’m not sure he realizes he can trust me.”

“Maybe he does trust you as much as he can, but that’s going to be limited. It could be he’s trying to protect you by keeping things from you.”

Lisa looked into his eyes and held his gaze. “I wish you two really could meet and talk. You could probably fill him in on a few things around here that he might want to know, and he might be able to help...our cause.”

“I’m not so sure of that.”

“Don’t you think it would help to have more information, someone else who knows what’s going on?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure we can really trust Jackson. For one thing, there’s the conditioning. I don’t know how much he can plot against Gregory without another backlash, either from a headache or something else. Even if he doesn’t do anything to directly harm Gregory, I’m not sure he can handle the additional pressure. His headache hasn’t gone away yet, has it?”

“No,” Lisa admitted. “I think he might be taking too many pain-killers, too. It seems every time I turn around he’s taking more.”

“That’s not good. He needs to be at his best, mentally and physically, and it won’t help anyone if he overdoses, or just has an adverse reaction to all the medication.”

“True. But what can I do? I tried suggesting he wait a bit and give the pills time to work, and he really snapped at me. It’s getting harder to talk to him, about anything.”

“If he won’t talk to you, I doubt he’ll talk to anyone else. He’s under a tremendous amount of pressure, and Gregory just keeps piling more on.”

“I know. You can’t say ‘no’ to Gregory.”

“You know, I was playing chess with Gabriel yesterday, and he made an interesting observation. Even the lowly pawn, with very little power on its own, can topple and capture a king, and end the game. The knights and bishops, for all their training and education, can be dangerous, but the king is more wary of them, so is more likely to watch what they do.”

“Hm.” Lisa wanted to ponder this further. “The king is easy enough to figure out, but which pawn are we talking about?”

“That’s the tricky part,” Capa said. “There are so very many to choose from.”

Lisa was still considering Capa’s last words when Jackson came home. He filled her in on Darren’s evaluation while they had dinner. She was relieved to know it had gone so well. While it was nice to have the apartment to themselves, she was beginning to miss Darren, just a little bit.

“I don’t know if Gregory was that happy about the way things went,” Jackson explained. “He still wants to lock Darren up and program him to – I don’t know what. I think it would do Darren some good to get some individual therapy.”

Lisa agreed. From everything she’d seen, Darren was adapting remarkably well, but there had to be things on his mind that he should discuss with a professional counselor.

Jackson surprised her with his next statement.

“You know, Lisa, I think it actually might be a good idea for me to meet your boss. I’m not kidding. That way I can get over this, what you call “irrational” jealousy.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. He’s not supposed to leave – I really can’t say anything.”

“I guess that’s why I’m curious.”

“Welcome to the club.”

He sighed in defeat. “Okay, you’ve been right all along. It’s very irritating to be out of the loop. I’m used to knowing a lot of what goes on around here, and if Gregory wants to keep me out of this, it makes me want to know exactly why.”

“Riiiiight,” Lisa agreed.

He ignored her tone. “Can you tell me this – do you know if this Capa would be interested in meeting me?”

Lisa considered her answer carefully. “Yes, he definitely would. But that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.”

“Gregory seems pretty protective of him, in some ways.”

“Well, as you pointed out, he’s head of Gregory’s pet project. I think he wants to keep Capa focused on his job.”

“But the rest of us find time to socialize...”

“You’re not working sixteen-hour days.”

“Not technically, no, but my job doesn’t necessarily end when my official hours are over,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, you definitely bring your work home with you.”

“That bugs you, doesn’t it?”

“Considering the kind of work you do, yeah. From the very little I saw when I was working with you, I can’t imagine that part of your job keeps you very busy.”

“No,” he confirmed. “But you really don’t want to know how I spend the majority of my time.”

“I’m certain I don’t.” She tried to keep from sounding overly judgmental, but she couldn’t help but feel Jackson would find a way to let her know if he was doing something really noble and beneficial to others.

<><><><><><><><>

Everyone wanted to know how Darren’s session had gone. They foraged for frozen TV dinners as Darren filled them in. They all gathered around the small table in the kitchen to discuss it.

“I like this new guy," Darren concluded, "but I dunno if he can help. Don’t really think I need help.”

Adam cleared his throat. “It can be good to have someone to talk to, though. Just to be able to get it out in the open so you can really look at what’s going on.”

“But I’ve got you guys to talk to,” Darren protested. “Why would I wanna talk to a stranger?”

Adam hunched his shoulders and looked down at his plate. “Sometimes it helps to have someone who’s objective, yo, who doesn’t really know you personally. They can say stuff you wouldn’t listen to if it’s from someone you know.”

“You know that from personal experience, Adam?” Jon asked.

“I guess you could say that. I shoulda gotten some therapy, I guess, when my mom died, but I don’t think it even occurred to my dad. This counselor at school tried to talk to me, but he just gave out this really weird, negative vibe, and I didn’t want to talk to him. I tuned him out and didn’t answer any of his questions. He finally gave up and let me go back to class. A couple years later someone I knew died, she kinda killed herself too --”

"Kinda? How do you kinda kill yourself?" Jon asked curiously.

"She put herself in a really dangerous situation, and didn't take it seriously, and got stabbed. She didn't even have to be there, she was just hanging out with friends...in the bad part of town, really late at night, with friends who were gonna buy drugs. She said something as a joke that the dealers didn't like, and -- that was it. Her friends just ran off and left her there to die."

"Now it makes a little more sense," George murmured. "I'm really sorry to hear that. How old was she?"

"Sixteen. It didn't have to happen. I hate it when people don't, you know, value their own life enough to think about what they're doing."

"At that age, though, a lot of people think they do know what they're doing," George mentioned, looking at Darren.

"The school offered counseling, and I wanted to go, but someone talked me out of it. I wish now I'd gone. Different school, different counselor, you know?"

“It’s too bad you didn’t get a better counselor the first time around,” George suggested. “Some of them are pretty good. It can be really helpful to have someone, anyone, to talk to, but a professional can do a better job of evaluating your emotional state, and whether you’re making any progress. I mean,” he continued uncomfortably, “you can talk to me at any time, Dar, or any of us, right, guys? We should all be able to talk to each other.”

“Dunno that I can say anything that’ll help any of you, but I can listen, I guess,” Darren offered.

“Yeah, I’m better at listening than talking about my own life,” Jon admitted.

“Or, if you don’t want to talk to any of us,” George continued, “you could maybe write things out, like in a journal. You don’t have to show it to anyone, but it might be easier to write your thoughts down instead of saying ‘em out loud.”

“Maybe, for some people.” Darren looked annoyed. “It sounds too much like homework. Or a diary. Only girls write in diaries.”

“Some fellas do write ‘em, but they call ‘em journals. Sounds more manly-like,” Jon added with a grin.

“Yeah, that’s one way to do it. But for me,” Adam tried to explain, “I’ve got my art to kind of help me get these feelings out. It’s a way to say the things I can’t really put into words.”

“That book you carry around all the time, is that all your drawings?” George wanted to know.

“It’s not everything I’ve done, but yeah, a lot of it. I keep it with me ‘cause I never know when I’m gonna want to draw something.”

“Great idea! I can’t draw a straight line with a ruler, but I always thought it would be fun to paint, or mess around with clay, you know, use my hands somehow, some type of art therapy.”

Adam nodded. “You can paint without even trying to do a picture. It can feel good just to slap some paint on the canvas, different colors, or try to create patterns, like a way to express your mood.”

Jon perked up. “Sounds like the kinda stuff Jim does. You should see his work sometime,” he suggested. “Maybe you’ll have things to talk about.”

“Yeah, I guess. Has he had any training, do you know?”

“As an artist? Nah, don’t think so. What I saw looked really emotional, like everything I’ve seen of yours.”

“Hey, I’ve got an idea, dude!” Darren ran his words over Jon’s. “Adam, you can teach like an art class or somethin’, give us more to do when we’re not watchin’ movies or playing video games.”

“Not a bad idea,” George agreed.

“I dunno. Teach a class? Not sure I’m ready for that.”

“Shouldn’t be that hard,” Jon mused. “Just talk about how you do stuff. Just for us, you know, and Jim, and maybe some other people.”

“Other people?” Adam echoed. “Like who?”

“Dunno. Kitten might like it. Maybe Izzie or Cristina or Sara,” he suggested, trying to sound casual.

“This is sounding like a bigger project than I thought, dude. Way to add pressure,” Adam muttered.

“Why, it make you nervous to talk in front of the girls?”

“Well, no...yeah, kinda. If they’re really interested, then, sure, but if you’re just looking for an excuse to spend some time with them...I don’t want ‘em to get bored.”

“Nah, they wouldn’t be. You make it sound interestin’.”

“I do?” Adam looked pleased. “I don’t know if I can explain it to other people, though. It’s more like an instinct, you know? Something you just get or you don’t. But if someone’s never tried anything like this, who knows, they might like it.”

“So let’s invite ever’body and see who wants to show up,” Darren suggested.

“Where are we gonna do this? Dunno if there’s room, even in our apartment.”

“You could stand at one end of the hallway, and everyone could, like, be in chairs at the other end, like in school or summat.”

“But then it would be hard for them to see. Hey, maybe I can show ‘em in the theater, project the drawings on the screen. At least people would have comfortable seats. I could make everything big enough everyone could see.”

“We’ll all need paper, and pencils, at least,” Darren reminded him.

“Yeah, good idea. And erasers. Hey, this might be kinda fun after all.”

“It always seems like you’re happier when you do your art,” Darren observed.

“Well, yeah. It kinda calms me down if I’m upset, sometimes. Or if I get mad, I can’t – I’m not into violence, you know? It doesn’t solve anything. So I gotta find some other way to get those feelings out. I can try to re-create the pictures in my head, so I can see ‘em more clearly, an’ other people can see ‘em, too. Or I can try to build something that represents something inside me, but it’s harder to explain that to people. Sometimes I don’t know what I’m making till it’s done, or I finish something and if you asked me what it is, I couldn’t tell you. It’s just there, this thing made out of stuff, you know? You either get it or you don’t. If you don’t, I can’t explain it to you.”

“I understand that,” Darren agreed. “People get you, and they’re okay with you, or they don’t get you, and they leave you alone ‘cause you scare them.”

“I dunno about that. I don’t think I scare anyone, but I can see how maybe you would. You get a little...intense, sometimes, dude.”

Darren didn’t take offense. “That’s the idea. Keeps people away when I don’t want ‘em near me. But it also kinda keeps ‘em away when maybe I want to talk or something.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem with having an attitude. People remember it, and judge you by it, for a long time, till you show ‘em you can be something other than what they’ve seen in the past.”

“They think you’re always gonna be the same, and can’t change, or else they want you to hurry, hurry and grow up, and stop being a kid. Not that I’m a kid, but you know –“

”Yeah, I know,” Adam assured him. “It’s hard when you’re our age, ‘cause people don’t know how to treat you. You’re not a kid, but you’re not officially an adult, so they’re not gonna take you seriously.”

“Unless you make ‘em take you seriously,” Darren insisted.

“But how do you do that?”

“Hit ‘em over the head wit’ somethin’ till they know you mean what you say.”

George choked on his water. Jon pounded him on the back, looking at Darren oddly.

“Maybe there’s another way to do it,” Adam suggested. “Sometimes you just gotta stick with your beliefs, till people see you mean what you say. Even if it looks like you’re crazy or something.”

Adam fell silent, and seemed to be thinking hard about something. Darren and Jon kept coming up with one idea after another for different things they could do in art class. George watched them all, thinking it might be best to keep his own suggestions to a minimum.

<><><><><><><><>

(Saturday morning)

Kitten invited Jackson to lunch, just the two of them.

“Matt had to go to the hospital on some consult, so he said he wouldn’t be here for lunch. I could fix us something here.”

“Maybe some other time, Kitten. I’ve got some things to do –“

”You’ve always got things to do,” she chided him. “Terribly important things, I’m sure. But can’t you take just an hour or so to spend with your adoring sister?” She waited through about thirty seconds of silence before adding, “All right, your sister who admires you.”

Jackson was startled into laughing. “I don’t believe that one, either. But you’ve convinced me I’ve been a rude, negligent brother, and I should try to make it up to you.” He was struck with inspiration. “I’ve got a better idea. Let’s pick up some food from the cafeteria, and eat outside,” he casually suggested.

“Outside? Can we, really?”

Kitten sounded absolutely delighted at the notion.

“Sure. We can sit by the rose garden.”

“A rose garden! I haven’t seen one in – a very long time.”

Jackson sighed, realizing he had a lot more to make up to her than he’d realized.

Since Lisa hadn’t objected, he met Kitten an hour later. He let her excited chatter run in one ear and out the other till they were safely in the garden.

“Oh, Jackson, it’s so lovely out here! Why haven’t you brought me here before?”

“It just didn’t occur to me,” he confessed guiltily.

“But I haven’t been outdoors in so long! I’d been told we couldn’t leave the building.”

He winced. “Uh, I’ll talk to the guards, and get your security clearance changed. Sorry I didn’t think about it earlier.” He realized by the quick succession of expressions, then a carefully neutral one, he’d really hurt her.

“I’m sorry, Kitten, really. I’ve been letting Jim and Selena come out here for a while, but I didn’t think about you. Or Matt. I’ll have to check and see if he already has clearance.”

“I don’t think so, or I’m sure he’d have brought me with him. Or at least tried to.”

“I guess Gregory wanted to keep him inside in case of an emergency or something. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

Kitten’s eyes were suspiciously bright, and Jackson didn’t want to deal with tears.

“Was there something specific you wanted to talk about?” he asked quickly.

“Actually, there was.” She stopped picking at her food and set it aside. “Why do you never ask anyone for help? Lisa says your headache is persisting, yet when both Matt and George were visiting, you didn’t mention it to either of them or ask for help. Why not let them do the work they were hired to do?”

Jackson was a bit puzzled. “They’re doing their jobs. They’re both doing well, as far as I know.”

“But part of their job is to help you. All of us,” she amended. “You don’t have to be at death’s door or in agonizing pain to ask for help.”

“Yes, I do,” he admitted quietly.

“But why? Is it so hard to admit you’re human, just like the rest of us?”

He grinned crookedly. “You really think I’m like the rest of you?”

“You really think you’re not human?” she countered.

He shook his head. “No, I’m quite sure I am. But it wasn’t till I ended up flat on my back on Lisa’s floor, and very definitely not enjoying it, that I realized it.”

Kitten grinned, and he continued. “I can’t let myself be vulnerable. I can’t let pain slow me down, or let people see me being weak.”

“I don’t know that others look at things quite the way you do,” she admitted. “I don’t think Matt or George would think less of you if you were to ask them for medical help.”

He didn’t know quite how to answer that one. “Maybe not, but I can’t let my father see I’m in a lot of pain. He would see it as a weakness, a liability.”

“So why don’t you let someone help you control the pain?”

“I’ve got the pills,” he answered quickly, hoping that would satisfy her.

“They’re obviously not working, or not working well enough. Maybe there’s some other treatment that would be more helpful.”

“I did go to Matt recently,” he pointed out.

“And he gave you another prescription. But did you tell him, in detail, how persistent the pain is, or how severe? Did you tell him anything to warrant further testing?”

“No,” Jackson reluctantly admitted.

“Why not?”

The truth, or a comforting lie? And who would it be comforting?

“I just wanted the pills. I didn’t want to waste a lot of time on stupid tests that probably wouldn’t do any good anyway.”

She shifted her position and smoothed her skirt. After a moment she looked directly at him. “Jackson, are you sure you’re not becoming too dependent on those pills? If they’re not really helping with the pain...”

“They are. Just not as much as they’re supposed to. It’s not a problem.”

“There’s such a thing as a rebound headache,” she explained. “That’s where the medication you’re taking gives you a headache, to the point that whenever you stop taking the medication, you get another headache. So it might be that, instead of just the conditioning.”

“How do you know about that?”

She shrugged modestly. “I’ve been looking it up in some of Matt’s books that he keeps at home. I’m not quite the – what’s the term – airhead you like to think I am.”

“I don’t think that!” he protested, though more guilt was added on when he realized that he really couldn’t think of “Kitten” and “serious” at the same time. The concepts just seemed contradictory.

“It doesn’t matter what’s causing it,” he argued. “I just want it to stop. But I don’t have time to deal with it.”

“But you have to admit, all this stress you’re under isn’t helping. That’s what’s more likely to make you a liability, is pushing yourself too hard until you do end up with a problem Gregory can’t ignore.”

“Like what?”

“Like overdosing on those pain pills. You wouldn’t be able to do your job then, would you?”

He took a moment to consider his answer. “No, in more ways than you realize. Gregory wants to re-condition me. I don’t think he entirely trusts my loyalty.”

“That man doesn’t trust anyone,” she sniffed. “He’s too paranoid for his own good.”

But it’s not paranoia...

Kitten continued haranguing him. “Wouldn’t it be simpler, though, to really utilize the resources you have here? This is probably the best place you could possibly be, to find some kind of treatment for your headaches, and instead, you’re ignoring all the opportunities, to pursue something you already know isn’t working. That doesn’t sound like the Jackson Rippner I know.”

“You’re right.” In fact, though he hated to admit it, Kitten had given him a very good idea. He was used to working on his own, but he’d also had lots of experience in manipulating others to achieve his goals. Maybe it was time to put his own best talents to work.

[stormy]

CHAPTER 90

(10:15 Saturday morning)

Capa greeted his best friend at the door. He could have slept in longer, since it was his day off, but Gabriel’s shift had just ended. Gabriel would be happy to visit, but he really should sleep as much as he could. Capa had already made decaf coffee, so all he had to do was pour it, and they were set. They took their customary places in the wing chairs by the fireplace.

“I’m not sure whether our shifts are getting longer, or I’m getting older,” Gabriel sighed. “On the other hand, never mind.”

“We’re both getting older,” Capa agreed. “It would be nice to have another day off, like normal people.”

“Normal people? With actual lives? We haven’t been those people in...quite some time. Longer in my case than yours,” Gabriel conceded.

“You’ve spent something like half your life here, haven’t you?” Capa asked. “Scary, isn’t it?”

“Terrifying, if I let myself think about it, so I don’t.”

“I have to say, though,” Capa quickly interceded, “for me the days are going by more quickly now.”

Gabriel sipped his coffee slowly, then spoke carefully. “Is it enthusiasm for Cillian’s development, or some other, more intriguing reason?”

“Oh, well, Cillian’s doing very well, and that’s part of it. But it’s nice to have Lisa there, so I can talk to someone during the day, since Cillian’s not much of a conversationalist yet.”

“It seems to me he’s been more aware, at an earlier stage, than the others,” Gabriel observed. “Other than that, though, I don’t see much difference.”

“We don’t want a lot of difference,” Capa reminded him. “Just mental and emotional stability would be enough for a start.”

Gabriel sighed. “I hope you’re right, but I still think we’re a long way from our goal. Lisa’s presence does seem to help him, though, doesn’t it?”

Capa agreed. “I don’t know how the clones from other progenitors would respond, but at least he shows more awareness when she’s around.”

“The only problem I foresee, and it’s a potentially major problem, is that Cillian may become too attached to her. He may feel, because part of him is Jackson, that she belongs with him, and not his progenitor.”

“Lisa could probably convince him otherwise, but...” Capa thought about the implications. “Maybe she can subtly remind him that she’s not available to him.”

“She’s not available to anyone,” Gabriel remarked, looking directly at him.

Capa sat up straighter and looked challengingly at his friend. “What are you implying?”

Gabriel’s answer was mild, but his eyes were challenging. “You seem to be spending a lot of time with her, and I just wanted to make sure your priorities haven’t changed.”

“My priorities?” Capa repeated. “If you’re worried that I’m interested in Lisa romantically, let me assure you, I’m not. For one thing, I’m not suicidal.”

“You do seem more interested in her than any of the other women around here.”

“You mean, of the three women I’ve been allowed to meet, the ones we work with? Let’s see...Frieda is close to retirement age, a bit too old for me. All right, a lot too old for me. There’s Ann, who’s never shown the slightest bit of warmth to me, or any man, in the time I’ve been here. Then there’s Rita. As far as I can tell, she’s still mourning her husband, and I believe he’s been dead fifteen years.”

“Not everyone recovers from grief at the same rate,” Gabriel said calmly.

Capa narrowed his eyes. “Yes, I seem to recall you would know about that. I don’t suppose you’re any more willing to talk about it than you have been for the last five years?”

“You’re right,” Gabriel agreed, his voice turning sharp. “It’s too painful to discuss, even with you.” His tone softened, his gaze growing wistful. “You know what they say, it’s better to have loved and lost, than never – no, damn it, I’m not sure that’s true.”

“Since I’ve never been in love with anyone, I think I’d rather never love someone, than love them and lose them,” Capa asserted.

“That’s easy for you to say, since you don’t know what you’re missing,” Gabriel countered.

Capa rather enjoyed these quiet, civilized disagreements. One could never call them arguments, so they could keep their voices level and have a gentleman’s agreement to disagree.

“Seems to me being in love bring people nothing but heartache, one way or another,” he commented.

“True, but it’s good to feel something, even if it’s painful. I’d rather know my heart is functioning, emotionally as well as physically.” Gabriel sipped his tea slowly, looking at Capa over the rim of the cup.

“The heart doesn’t actually feel emotions, you know,” Capa reminded him, for at least the twentieth time.

“All right, the soul, then.”

“If you believe in the soul. I don’t.”

“Then I pity you. Still.”

“Save your pity for someone who needs it.” There was no real animosity in the words.

“All right, then I’ll pity Lisa. She deserves better than Jackson Rippner.”

“You barely know anything about him.”

“I’ve heard enough from others who have to think Lisa could do better. Not with you, of course. He’d kill you in a heartbeat if you tried to take her away from him.”

Capa inclined his head in agreement. “Like I said, I’m not suicidal. I know better than that. And I’m not interested in her romantically. She’s very intelligent, a nice girl, interesting to talk to –“

”So, why aren’t you romantically interested?”

“Because I don’t have time for romance. I barely have time for my own basic needs, let alone being responsible for someone else’s happiness.”

“But you’re not. I mean, we’re never responsible for anyone else’s happiness, just our own.”

“That’s fine, if you can fine a partner who feels the same way. No,” Capa added decisively. “Lisa deserves someone who could give her more time and attention, more concern. I’m about as married to my work as anyone can be.”

“Mmmmm...perhaps. So, you don’t have the slightest interest in Lisa, as a woman?”

“As a person, I care about her very much. As a woman, specifically.... Damn. Yes, I find her attractive. But at least I can control my reactions. Therefore, yes, I’m attracted to her, but so what? What good is it going to do me? Even if she were available, I don’t want a relationship, with her, or anyone, because I can’t give what I don’t have. I can’t give of myself. I barely know who I am, sometimes, other than a supposed genetic expert.”

“Ah, yes, I know that feeling. Who are we when we're not at work? Do we even exist outside the lab? Are we even really here, in your very comfortable apartment, having this discussion? I’ve had those delusions, every now and then.”

“Shhhh, don’t use that word. You don’t want them to send you to the psych ward,” Capa muttered.

Gabriel shrugged. “At least I could rest for a while. But I doubt Gregory could do this work as efficiently without me.”

“I know we couldn’t,” Capa said, feeling a surge of affection for his friend. Gabriel was much closer to a real father to him than Gregory had ever been.

Gabriel leaned forward and looked at him intently. “But back to the potential problem of Cillian possibly becoming too attached to Lisa, we should probably have some kind of contingency plan, just in case.”

“Yes, we’re going to stop a guy who’ll have the memories and skills of a trained killer, a schizophrenic, and a slightly autistic teen with anger issues? Which army is going to help us control him?”

“I suppose that’s what the security gorillas are for,” Gabriel replied calmly. “They have to earn their keep somehow.”

“I suspect they’re kept busy enough,” Capa sighed. “Maybe we won’t have to worry about any of this. Maybe Kitten will become the dominant personality, and he won’t be interested in Lisa romantically, either.”

“Hm, with six strongly heterosexual personalities in opposition? I think not.”

Capa grinned. “Even if he’s not interested in Lisa, the poor guy isn’t going to have many opportunities to meet anyone, anyway. The men on this island outnumber the women seven to one, the last I heard.”

“Well, maybe Cillian will be as dedicated to his job as the rest of us, and will be content to be married to his work. Whatever that work turns out to be. Any ideas?”

“I’m not on the need-to-know list as far as that’s concerned,” Capa answered, now getting irritated. Not at Gabriel, however. As usual, his father was the target of his ire.

“I suppose I’m not on that list, either. Probably doesn’t matter. Maybe we’re worrying for nothing.”

“As is so often the case,” Gabriel murmured.

His friend’s gentle sarcasm wasn’t reassuring.

<><><><><><><><>

Jonathan didn’t know how long he’d been in the hospital. One day flowed into another, and he’d lost track of time. There were no regular meals to try to calculate the days. The intravenous drip was changed every few hours, he thought. He didn’t even know if it was day or night, since there were no windows.

When the door opened, he expected a nurse. Instead, he saw his father.

Oh, joy. Just what I need to brighten my day.

“Well, Jonathan, you don’t seem to be improving much. I’m sure when you can speak again you’ll have a lot to say.”

Gregory made himself comfortable in the visitor’s chair.

“Has your alter ego been keeping you company?”

Jonathan’s eyes widened in alarm. When Gregory handed him a pen, it took great concentration and force of will to write, “Scarecrow’s not here.”

Gregory’s eyes narrowed as he read the shaky writing.

“Your handwriting is terrible. It’s worse than it was before.”

I wonder why that is, Father?

Gregory continued his interrogation-disguised-as-visit. “Are you afraid he’ll come back?”

That was easier to answer. He simply wrote, “Yes.”

“Well, I think I’ve come up with a solution that will end the Scarecrow problem once and for all.”

He wasn’t going to ask. He just couldn’t.

“I’ve also decided to allow you to have visitors again. Don’t be surprised if some of your siblings show up to wish you well. I’m going to allow any of them who want to see you to do so. You’ll be perfectly safe, of course, even from Jackson. He won’t dare do anything to you with a guard outside the door. He might want to come in to apologize. If he does, be nice about it, be the better man, and accept his apology. Shall I tell him you’ll be looking forward to seeing him? Good. I’ll convey the message for you.”

Jonathan had never felt so helpless in his life. There was nothing he could do to prevent his father, Jackson, or anyone else from killing him. He had a good enough imagination, and had worked with enough criminals, to come up with some pretty vivid methods for his own death. None of them involved dying of old age, in the comfort of his own bed.

No, that will never be your fate, Scarecrow assured him cheerfully. I’m sure it will happen long before middle age. In fact, you might not last out the day. That would ruin my plans, unfortunately, but maybe we can think of something to change that, hm?

Jonathan didn’t want to listen to Scarecrow, but there was no one else he could really communicate with. A part of him knew he couldn’t trust Scarecrow any more than any of the other heartless bastards in his family, but at least they could communicate easily. There was something to be said for open communication.

<><><><><><><><>

(1:45 Saturday)


For some reason, having lunch with Kitten had energized him, rather than worn him out. It was time to take some action. Jackson checked the inventory in his private room, and quickly located the items he would need. He’d given Lisa just the briefest synopsis of the conversation, just what he thought she needed to know. He didn’t have time to explain things to her. She seemed annoyed with him, though that was happening more and more, it seemed. He’d have to pay more attention to her soon, he decided. Perhaps that night, if there wasn’t some crisis or other.

Sooner than he’d hoped, his father called him in for a meeting. He was as prepared as he thought he could be. He hated wearing a wire; the tape pulled unpleasantly at his skin, and he knew it would itch even after the tape was removed. Still, it was a small price to pay for the potential rewards.

He stood at attention in his father’s office, then took a seat when Gregory told him to.

“You’ve done a good job with Darren,” Gregory began. “He’s reacting almost like a sane person.”

Jackson slowly drew in a deep breath. “What if he is sane?”

“Trust me, he’s not. You’ve seen how violent he used to get.”

“Yeah, used to. I’ve done worse things than he ever did, when I was younger than he is now.”

“And? Are you claiming to be sane, Jackson?”

“Of course I am.” Does he seriously think I’m not?

His father merely stared at him, then continued. “I don’t like the idea of him talking to Dr. Fairfield alone.”

“Why not? What’s the big problem with that?”

“For one thing, he could harm the doctor, then I’d have to find a replacement for him. I don’t have time to keep replacing staff.”

Then stop getting rid of them. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“Who knows what he might say? If he says too much, again, I’ll have to get rid of Fairfield.”

“Why? Why is it so damned important to keep everything a secret here?”

Gregory sighed and looked at him wearily. “Because Dr. Fairfield is an ethical man. There are things he wouldn’t approve of, that he might want to “solve” or “fix.” He might talk to others.” He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. If I do allow these sessions to happen...” He stopped. “I’ll think about it.”

Jackson wondered if Gregory had been about to say he would plant listening devices. Apparently he didn’t trust Jackson with that information, or whatever else it was he’d been thinking.

“I need as many trustworthy people around me as I can get, ones who aren’t too morally squeamish to do whatever needs to be done. I hope you’re not falling into that category, Jackson.”

He stood up straighter. “No, sir.” The lie was automatic.

“I hope, for your sake, you’re telling the truth. I may have to test your loyalty. Which brings me to your new assignment,” Gregory continued smoothly. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk. “Jonathan is becoming more of a liability than an asset. I’m concerned about his schizophrenia. I think the voice in his head is becoming more real to him than his own voice.”

“Aren’t there meds for that?” Jackson asked. “I mean, this should be the perfect place for him to get treatment.”

Gregory shook his head. “It’s a chronic condition. Even if medication could help him, I can’t trust him with the patients, and I’m not going to trust him in the psycho-pharmaceutical department, either. I don’t think Jonathan, or his alter-ego, Scarecrow, are loyal to me.”

Jackson bit his tongue, hard. “What about some behavior modification therapy for him, then?”

“No. I’m not going to waste the time, or the resources, when they can be better spent elsewhere. I have more important things on my mind than him.”

“Like what?”

“None of your business,” Gregory said mildly. “I’ve tried to talk to you before about some of my other projects, but you’ve shown no interest, perhaps even some fear, in those areas. I’m not going to trouble you with them now.”

Although he resented the slur to his courage, Jackson kept his words and tone even. “Yes, sir, I can understand you don’t think it’s any of my business. What is it you want me to do?”

“I was hoping you’d have guessed by now. I want you to finish what you started.”

It still took a moment to sink in. “Kill Jonathan?”

“Are you having difficulty hearing, Jackson?”

“No, sir. I want to be certain I understand. I thought you wanted me to stop short of killing him.”

Gregory shrugged this off as trivial. “At the time I thought he’d still be able to work. Jonathan is of no further use to me. You might even be doing him a favor by putting him out of his misery. You don’t have to beat him to death, you know. I’m sure you could make it quick, even painless.”

Of course he could, but oddly enough, he no longer wanted to kill Jonathan, by any method.

“What about the conditioning? I thought it was supposed to keep me from killing him.”

“Or me,” Gregory added, as though Jackson might have forgotten. “I’d like to see what would happen if you do try to kill him.”

That sounded wrong on so many levels, Jackson hardly knew where to start.

Before he could think of a response, Gregory asked, “How’s your headache?”

At least that was something he could safely answer. “It hasn’t gone away, but it’s bearable. Not that I wouldn’t like to get rid of it completely. Wouldn’t it make it worse, in fact, if I kill Jonathan?”

“It should. Whether it will or not, that’s the intriguing question.”

“Intriguing to whom?” Jackson demanded. “I don’t want to find out!”

“Think about it for a moment. I need to know how well your conditioning is holding. I could just do more conditioning on you, to be sure, but I think we’d both prefer to avoid that, unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Jackson agreed through gritted teeth. “Yes, sir.”

“If you try to kill him, and the pain increases until you pass out, that will tell me the conditioning is holding. In that case, I’ll have someone else finish the job for you. If you do succeed in killing him, then we’ll need to schedule more sessions for you. Perhaps we’ll try another approach this time.”

Jackson felt he’d had enough “therapy” to last him a lifetime.

“I’m not really comfortable with this assignment, sir.”

Gregory raised one eyebrow. “Do you think your feelings matter to me?”

Jackson closed his eyes and counted to ten. “Of course not. Why should that have changed?”

“Why are you so reluctant to do this? Are you just afraid of the pain?”

Gregory sounded unnervingly like Jonathan at the moment, trying to elicit information solely for his ghoulish enjoyment.

Jackson hoped he could explain things in a way that would make sense to Gregory.

“I still hate what he did, but my hatred of him has faded, a little. I think he’s suffered enough.”

“Hm. Interesting.” Gregory sat back in his chair. “Then think of it another way. This has nothing to do with whether or not you still want revenge. This is something I want you to do, that’s within your job description. You’ve certainly killed enough other people, for me and for others.”

“They’ve usually been complete strangers, or people I barely knew,” Jackson explained. “Do you find it all that odd that I’d draw the line at killing my brother?”

“Yes, actually I do. It’s not as though he’s one of the ones you like.”

Jackson blinked, unsure how to respond to that.

“And even if he were, I’m sure you recall that I told you part of your new assignment was to terminate anyone you’re surveilling, if it’s warranted.”

“But I’m not surveilling Jonathan.” He didn’t really think the argument would sway Gregory, but he had to try.

Gregory was unmoved. “In principle it’s the same thing. I supposed I can understand that it might be difficult to terminate someone you’ve come to like, but in this case, it should be a good deal easier. Think of it as training. It might make it easier the next time. If it should become necessary, of course.”

Jackson couldn’t think of any of his family members, or their lovers or friends, he could dispatch without adding a fresh load of guilt and self-hatred. He’d been able to push those things aside in the past, bury them deeply in his mind, until someone like Lisa would say something to bring them to the surface.

“What if I refuse, sir?”

Gregory leaned forward again. “You’re not that stupid, Jackson. If you are, I’m not sure I’ll have much further use for you, either. I need someone I can trust to follow my orders. If you can’t do that, I’ll have to see who else in the organization might be able to take your place.”

F*ck. “Give me a little time to think about the best way to kill Jonathan.”

“As I recall, you’ve got quite a selection of weapons at your disposal. Pick one and get the job done. You have 48 hours. If he’s still alive after that, I’ll know you can’t be trusted.”

“If I try, but the conditioning won’t let me, then what?”

“I have someone else in mind as a back-up, if you really can’t do it. I expect you to keep trying until you black out. You’ve had a lot of practice at pushing aside pain, haven’t you? I’m sure you can manage to do this.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jackson hesitated, then spoke what was on his mind. “Obviously you trust me enough to be alone with me now.”

Gregory shrugged. “You’ve had many opportunities to kill me, but believe me, I can stop you.”

“Yeah? You sure of that, sir?”

Gregory smiled and said with great condescension, “I know you’re very quick with a knife. I’m not doubting your skill, Jackson. If you’d like a demonstration, however – pull your knife out and come toward me.”

Jackson did as he was told. He’d barely gotten past the edge of the desk when Gregory’s voice grew cold and commanding. He spoke a word Jackson didn’t understand.

Panic gripped Jackson. He felt pinned in place as though there were steel bands holding his arms to this sides. His heart was beating furiously, his blood pressure rising, and his head felt like it was going to explode. He couldn’t draw a breath. This wasn’t the same as when he’d attacked Jonathan; he couldn’t do a thing.

Gregory watched him dispassionately, then uttered a short phrase. It might have been Gaelic, but he wasn't sure.

Jackson found he could move, and breathe again. When he was able to speak, he swore a blue streak.

“Language, Jackson,” Gregory said reprovingly.

Jackson was exhausted. “Was that enough of a test, Father? Do I still have to kill Jonathan to prove I can’t kill you?”

“No, and yes. You have 48 hours to prove your loyalty. Then we’ll discuss my plans for Darren. Dismissed.”

Jackson left as quickly as he could. He needed some time to think through his options. All he wanted to do was go home and collapse. He couldn’t indulge in that luxury, though. As he walked home, he composed a mental list of his options:


1. Try to kill Jonathan.

A: Succeed, probably with great pain, and God knows how long that will last. Then Gregory will feel he has to recondition me because he can’t fully trust me.

B: Fail because of the conditioning, with pain that’s bad enough to knock me out. Probably get decent medical care while I recuperate, maybe even some time off. Or not. Gregory will feel he can’t trust me.

2. Refuse to do it. Not really an option. He’ll never trust me. He’ll just get someone else to do it, and probably kill me. There are too many people I have to protect.

3. Come up with a third option. Soon.

[Gobby]

eek havent been here so long
I've missed so much
I'll say good job then start reading
haha

[stormy]

Good to see you back, Gobby!

I'm going to be offline for a while, due to very annoying Internet access issues. As in, after spending about 3 1/2 hrs over the last few days with my ISP's help desk...I still have a problem they aren't sure how to solve. Among their ideas are contacting my computer vendor (again) and paying a lot of money for a diagnostic test and probably some new hardware. Since my PC is almost 4 years old, I'm reluctant to spend the money on a machine I've come to loathe. I'm currently using a computer at the library, but it's not a good solution. Perhaps a visit to the nearby Mac Store is in order.

The good news is, my word processing program *is* working, so I'm continuing to write, I just can't post. I'm trying to get at least a rough draft of the rest of the story. Maybe by the time I get my Internet service up and running again I'll have several chapters ready to post.

[pseudo]

Ahahahahah, as a Mac user, all I can say is SWITCH. I've had Macs since the SE/30, and in fact our SE/30 still works perfectly, and I have absolutely no complaints at all about zee Macintoshes. I lurve them. I lurve them good.

[stormy]

Thanks, pseudo, for the advice! Looks like I will definitely be switching, probably some time this coming week. First I'm trying to transfer all my floppy disks to CDs so I don't have to buy an external floppy drive. In some cases I'm having to translate the files to another format. I have many, many floppies, and I'm having to go through them all, even the ones that appear to be blank. I cleverly used to think, "I'll remember this story is on the orange disk," etc. Dumb. Some are helpfully labeled "Fan Fic" or the name of a fandom. Sheesh.

I was told by the rep at the Apple store that they can transfer all my files for me, if I bring my PC in. I've got to put everything I want transferred into one folder. So I've got a lot to do in a short amount of time. I've been discovering all sorts of stories in various stages of progress that I'd forgotten about, from many fandoms, and some originals, over the last 15-20 years. As in, 6 completed novels, 3 more novels (inc. GT) that are almost done, and about 11 more in various stages of progress. I have over 75 completed stories, and over 65 incomplete ones. I keep finding more! Since I don't want to lose any of this hard work, I'm being really careful about these backups.

Hopefully I'll be able to either write more of GT, or edit Ch. 91-96 so I can post some of those once I get access again.

Update: Oops! In a fit of temporary insanity, while I was showing my dad how to do some things on his computer, I showed him this site, so he could see what's been keeping me so occupied the last year. He bookmarked this page, for my story... He didn't read much, and I doubt he will, but I did explain that despite this story being very therapeutic to me in many ways, the character of Gregory doesn't represent him. He was relieved to learn that I don't think of him as a megalomaniacal sociopath. I told him Gregory is more influenced by a lot of other people in my life, various authority figures I have problems with. He knows who some of them are.

Update: Finally, I'm back! I have the Mac Mini and am online again. As soon as I figure out how to change my documents to MS Word, I'll start posting again. Still stuck on Ch 97, but now that I can write again, hopefully I can write more, at least this weekend if not before.