Ami-chan Writes

“You can make yourself useful, you know?” I tell Audrey who is leaning against a counter across the way with her arms folded looking a bit uncomfortable. Julia is cutting open a couple of packets of bacon and I'm measuring flour and things from the open containers into the sieve over the large bowl.

She looks over at me, “If I knew of--” she starts.

“Well, then you ask,” Julia points out, “with words.”

“You guys know I'm not a very good cook,” she says, “I don't want to burn down The Gull.”

“It's survived so far,” I tell her, “I think it can survive you; besides you're never going to learn if you just sit there and pout at things.”

The coffee machine makes a glorious beeping noise, and I set down the measuring spoon.

“I'm not pouting!” she says.

“You're pouting,” Julia retorts.

Nathan comes back from the restroom and into the kitchen area, “What's going on?” he asks.

“Your girlfriend is pouting,” I hand him the coffee, “It's hot,” I point out, “Give it a few. It's hot off the press.”

He blows on it a little, giving me a look.

“I am not, and I—Duke!” she protests, taking her own cup, as I put another down by Julia and lean against the counter, carefully sipping a little at my own before resetting the coffee machine for another batch of elixir.

Nathan looks a little uncomfortable himself, of course.

“Play nice, Boss,” Julia scolds.

“What?” I point out, “We got how much guff?”

“Don't make me step on your foot,” Julia says.

“You wouldn't dare—not after all...”

She just gives me a steely look.

“What is...Parker...not being pouty about?” Nathan asks, trying to circumvent all talk of everything but still getting a look from Audrey in the process.

“Cooking,” Julia and I both say.

“You can crack eggs though?” I ask her, “That's not that difficult. Nate can show you. You can crack them into a bowl and whisk them up to go with the rest of the food. They can sit in the fridge until the right time.”

“And they would be?” Nathan asks.

“In the fridge, oh, great detective.” I point to it and go back to the waffle mix.

Nathan grumbles something but the fridge opens and Audrey finds a bowl under the counter and sets it out. There's working, frustrated noises and complaints from Audrey here and there, and teasing comments back and forth from Julia and I and Nathan encouraging her and telling us to leave it alone but then there's this one subtle barb that you almost miss, and she puts her hands down and just levels him with a look.

Fortunately for him his phone rings and he goes outside to answer it. Audrey is busy whisking eggs and I check on her and add seasonings to them and have her whisk a bit more before she puts the bowl in the fridge for the time being. I'm just past halfway done with the waffles and Julia is gathering bacon onto a plate to put in the oven to stay warm while the other things are finished.

“Did we want sausage?” she asks.

Audrey shrugs.

“I think we'll be okay,” I tell her, scooping some more waffle batter and closing the iron and then going for my coffee again.

Nathan comes back through the door, and Audrey goes and takes him his coffee, hers in the other hand. He thanks her and they talk for a moment, before he comes back in to the kitchen where Julia and I are sipping carefully on it.

“What took you so long?” I ask him, “Trying to get out of all the work?”

“Very funny,” he says, “No, when I got off the phone I ran into someone from school and we were talking.”

“Oh? Who?”

Now he hesitates, taking a long drink of coffee to hide behind, “I'm not actually...they went to school with us.”

“You said that,” I chide, as Julia jokingly gets at me for the fact that the waffle would have burned were it not for her daring last minute rescue, “Yes. You're an awesome wench,” I tell her.

“Don't you forget it,” I hear her putting another load of batter into the iron.

“And that,” I turn back to Nathan, “pretty much gives us a pool of...I don't know everyone except me.”

Audrey almost chokes on her coffee and sets it down.

Nathan shakes his head, “I'm sorry we don't run in the same circles,” he snaps.

That's a—let it go, “Not a local then?” I ask him.

He stares off for a moment, “What?”

“The school...acquaintance not a local anymore then?”

“No...no...” he says, carefully, taking another drink, “They escaped and they came back to show their fiancee where they grew up.”

I purse my lips, “Well, hopefully nothing freaky shows up for them while they're here.”

“Don't jinx us,” Audrey chides.

“Jinx? Really?” I tell her, “Trouble problems show up at least once a week it seems like if not more.”

“Troubles?” Nathan snorts, “Don't tell me you believe that crap too now.”

Okay, now he's—I'm not the only one that—no Audrey's looking at him weird too. Good.

“Nathan--” she says, “Let's just--” she takes his coffee and hands it to me, “Just gives us a minute, okay, Duke?”

“Sure, that's probably a good idea,” I go back into the kitchen.

“Come back to work now, Bo—what's going on?” Julia finishes as I set the coffee mugs down.

“Nate's being—odd.”

“How odd?” she asks.

“Audrey's talking to him,” I lean against the counter, and pick my coffee back up, and she goes back to the waffle iron, “I don't know. He snapped at me about 'friend' circles, but eh, but then he had this 'Don't tell me you believe in this Trouble crap' moment, and that was...” I wave a hand.

“Hmm,” Julia says in that 'I'm having a ponder on serious matters' tone.

“Yeah,” I look towards the main restaurant where Nathan and Audrey are still talking—he's closed off though, sullen, and any second, yeah, there he goes walking away, but back in this direction, from what I can make out something doesn't seem to be making 'any sense' to him and she needs to 'quit it'. Classic Nathan.

“What's so funny?” Julia asks, opening the oven door and getting out the waffle plate.

“Nothing. It's fine. Is that bacon?”

She smacks my hand with the tongs she was using on the waffles, “Out!”

I pull my hand back, pouting at her. She's giving me a strange look, so I return the strange look. Where'd we..? She closes the oven again, and messes with the dials for a moment.

“You know that's not your mug, Boss?”

I look down at the brown ceramic in my hands and set it on the counter, “Crap. Right. Where is it's owner anyway? What's going on there?”

Julia follows me back towards the edge of the kitchen where we can peer out towards the main restaurant just as Nathan storms in towards us closely followed by Audrey.

“Nathan—wait!”

He stops about to push by me, “Do you have something to say, Crocker?”

“Yes. Where do you think you're going?” I ask him, “You're running away from a girl who seems to actually want to touch you!”

“Shut up!” he rounds on me.

“Woah,” Julia says, “What the hell?”

Nathan's angry, but that's nothing new, “What's crawled up your ass this time?” Trying to think what he could think I've possibly done to him lately, or what I have done to him lately.

He's just fuming for half a second, “Are you going to try and tell me you don't know?” He jabs a finger towards me.

“I don't know. I swear you imagine shit half the time just so you can be pissed.”

“I don't have to imagine anything. You've been an unscrupulous asshole since elementary school and you don't change,” it's not going to be good for him if he starts a fight in here when there are so many things around to use against him.

“Nathan!” the blonde who was chasing him exclaims sounding indignant for some reason. She looks vaguely familiar.

“Kick him in the balls, Audrey!” Julia demands angrily, from my right side, “He won't feel it if I do it!”

Okay, that's—no?

“Julia!” blonde—Audrey exclaims in a different tone to the Nathan, this is more what's wrong with you? Why would you say this?

“What do you mean--?” I turn to Julia, “it's not like the Troubles are around—he should feel it just fine. Go ahead if you want to.”

“Really?” Nathan asks, “Aside from—but just—going to blame the 'Troubles' for my being sick?”

“Because that's what it was,” exasperation thy name is Duke.

“You're just trying to make yourself feel better for all the shit you did to me. I suppose that was a Trouble too?”

“No. That was me being a bully because I didn't exactly have the greatest role model and I was...and asshole.”

“Was?” Nathan says, but then he makes an odd noise and grips his arm with a pained expression and the noise turns into an actual complaint and he buckles to his knees on the floor.

“What--?” I start to say, moving forward, as the Audrey chick crouches down to him saying his name but then:

“Boss,” Julia says, a slight tug on my sleeve, drawing my attention. I think if my nuts were in peril too they'd have already been attacked.

“What?” I ask her, turning. She pulls harder on my arm which is unexpected, but then her lips—mouth is at my...mouth, and things...kissing, yes. Kissing? Kissing! Julia is kissing me. I get pushed back against the counter reaching for her head with my hands to make sure—yes, she's really there, but how? I thought...she pulls back from me after another moment, “Hnm...what?” I manage.

She's going for my arm again, but we're already there, close enough. I want to lean back in before I wake up or something, but she's pulling at my sleeve trying to roll it. No. No! I pull back, but she has hold and yanks up before I can stop her. Bastard of a way to—what?

I don't recognize that tattoo. When did I?

She rolls the sleeve further up, rubbing her fingers across the smooth skin of my arm, “It's fine, see? Nothing there,” she says, “It's a Trouble, Boss. It's 2011. You're 36,” no fucking way, “We have sex on a regular basis,” I lean back against the counter, this is—this can't be, “you own and run this restaurant legally.”

We're together? How? Since when? How have I not been lynched? Because even if she is consenting I can't imagine that...? “How? Why?”

“Because I've loved you since I was as old as you think I am, and you've loved me just about as long, and you're really, really, good. You just don't remember,” She clasps her hands around mine and peers up at me, “because you're being affected by a Trouble.”

“She's right, Nathan,” the Audrey woman is saying, as she helps him to his feet. He's still massaging his arm but he seems to be in less pain, “both of you are. It's messing with your heads.”

“And what's messing with my arm?” he grumbles.

“That would be me,” Julia explains, “My Trouble is that I can see and touch other Troubles. It's more complicated than that, but that's good enough for now.”

“What's your Trouble?” I ask Audrey, “...if you have one?”

“I don't,” she says, “I just help out when they hit, both Nathan and I—well, all of us, but Nathan and I are with the police department.”

“Helping? Him?” Nathan asks.

“Oh, for the love of...” Audrey mutters, “This is worse than when I first got here.”

“Are you sure he's not causing it?”

“Crockers aren't Troubled?” I find myself less certain as I finish the sentence given Julia has a Trouble and this is apparently 2011. Julia has never lied to me and this would be a fucked up thing to start up about now. As I look at Nathan he is older, and appears to be getting uncomfortable about the arm again. There's my tattoos and skin to reckon with too. I look at Julia for an answer to my not exactly asked question. Remembering Simon asking me a dozen—fuck it, whatever years ago to make sure I had my ass back here if the Troubles were back in town and what would that be about if...but, of course, he kicked it before he could explain—if he actually would have.

Audrey looks at Julia too and there's a guilty feeling hanging across the room, but then Nathan shifts position leaning back against the wall on his side of the room, scratching at his sleeve looking uncomfortable and irritated.

“Be careful, Nate,” I tell him, “People are gonna start thinking you're on that junk. Not good for your career.”

The glare he fixes me with—I'd be afraid the ground would crack open and swallow me if his Trouble worked that way.

“Be nice, Boss,” Julia warns.

Do not say he started it. Do not. I stay quiet.

There's a slight tap on? in? my wrist and when I look towards it Julia gives me a kiss on the cheek. This is so strange but yet awesome and is going to be weird to get used to but wonderful all at once.

“Okay,” Julia breaths in deeply, “we were about to have a nice breakfast like the friends we are,” she looks at each of us, “Shut up,” she says, even though neither Nathan or I has gotten anything out of our mouths yet, “We're all friends. So, Boss, you help Audrey set a table and Nathan, you stay here and help me finish cooking.”

It takes just a minute to locate where everything would be and for Audrey to gather silverware from where it's rolled up in bundles and glasses and we go out into the main restaurant. Yeah, this is definitely not the Shaw's place. I set things down on the nearest table and look around the room. Definitely not.

“You okay, Duke?” Audrey asks from my right.

“Just getting the lay of the land.”

“Ah,” she says, “Yeah. It's weird places that are the same but different,” she's putting the fork bundles around on the table I put things down on, “I saw a Haven where this place had been gutted.”

“I thought you weren't Troubled?”

She looks sheepish—uncomfortable, “It's more Troubles don't affect me...and there was this...”

“Lucky.”

“Mostly,” she says, as I start putting the glasses out properly. Probably need the coffee mugs too, and plates? Or are they plating things in the kitchen and bringing them out? I pull my hand self-consciously away from my ear because I realize I'd started scratching my head when I went to scrape my hair back. This is 2011, right? She showed me my arms...so if I'm clean at 36 then...I don't, it's just, it's just in my head. I'm so hilarious.

“Duke?” Audrey is by me.

“Nothing—just trying to—gonna go see if they're done.”

I slip around the other side of the main bar and back towards the kitchen. Julia and Nathan are working. There's a pan of eggs cooking, and a waffle coming out of the iron and another pan which I realize has a pancake in it, of course, when Nathan flips it with the spatula.

“Uh, hey,” I hold on tight to edge of the counter, drumming my fingers, “I...wanted to see how close things were. See if people wanted coffee with food, check if I needed to get plates, that sort of thing.”

“Coffee's good,” Nathan says, cautiously, tipping the pancake on to a plate.

“The stuff is right there,” Julia points with the spoon in her hand.

“Yeah,” I check the coffee pot, and top up or refill the mugs that are on the counter and take them out to the main room and put them on the table, and then come back in and start checking cabinets to see where the coffee is to start a fresh pot brewing.

“Nathan,” I hear Julia say, “I'll finish that last pancake. Why don't you take the bacon out to the table? and Duke and I will follow with everything else in a moment.”

“Okay,” Nathan nods, and reaches for the oven.

“Gloves!” Julia shouts, hastily, moving between the two of us.

As Nathan walks by with the tray of bacon she approaches me instead, “You're so tense you're gonna wear a hole in the floor, Boss. Sit there while I get the coffee on and then I'll relax you,” she points to a stool on the other side of the kitchen by the opposite counter.

“But I--” I point to the coffee.

“Now,” she says, pointing again.

I sit down resting with my hands in front of me and watch her carefully as she tips out grounds and reapplies filters, and drum a rhythm on the top of the stool trying to clear my head. I need something else to think about, not the junk, not whatever Audrey keeps thinking about that gives her that guilty expression, not—Julia's taken hold of my hands and is lifting them away from the stool.

“Y'all jes sit tight nah, cowboy,” she says.

“Cowboy?” I start, though the accent is...she puts a finger to my lips though.

“Ssh. Ah'm th' wickedest wench in th' west, an' this ain't mah first ro-dee-o,” she says, and I realize she's undone my fly and has one hand already on my penis.

“Wha-?” disappears though because before the rest of the sentence can leave my mouth hers is on the tip of my—and then it's in her mouth, a deep warm caress up and down the shaft and I'm gonna melt into the wall. I have never. I just...this can't, “Ju--” but that's all I get out of that given there's a vibration thrumming through every part of me from my penis it has maybe a note of inquiry it's hard to get my thoughts together it's pretty well just sensation and lights and...everything focusing in on that one point of contact until it's all just pow.

When my thoughts are more I look for something but she swallowed it too.

But then, also, just...that...

“If you can play nice with Nathan while we eat breakfast I'll show you the stockroom with the locking door,” she teases, as the rest of the my brain kicks back into gear enough to put everything away and button up.

“Evil wench.”

She laughs, “You know you love me,” it's clearly something she's said many times before. Then something clicks and she mutters shit and turns to hastily grabs the eggs which had been forgotten, “get the waffles, Boss,” she points to the oven and I get the mitts and get them out, and the pancakes. Julia scoops the salvaged eggs into a bowl and we go into the restaurant and set things down on the bar, “Plates,” she reminds me and I go back to get them and she follows, but veers off and comes back with a glass bottle of dark maple syrup that was secreted away somewhere and sets it on the table.

She's in a lot better mood than she was before you'd think we'd both gotten off. She's practically bouncing about the room as she sits down with the plate of food across from Audrey who is pouring syrup on her pancakes.

“Julia?” Audrey asks, as Nathan brings the pot of coffee in from the kitchen given the two of them had emptied their cups waiting for us, “Why are you so happy?...or do I not want to know?” she glances at me as I make my way to the table with my plate and sit down.

“He loves me,” Julia answers, with a slight nod in my direction.

“Well, ye--” Audrey starts to say, but then stops and nods.

Nathan sets the coffee carafe down on the table, heavily, and sits.

Audrey gives him a cautious look before picking it up and filling their mugs.

Julia passes me the syrup having used it herself, and I zig-zag my waffle and criss-cross it back watching the syrup filter through for a moment. I should not try to work out what things have happened that I actually own a legal business or if this is before or after Julia or when or where, that's just too much variables. These sorts of things are why exit strategies are the biggest stages of plans. I'm still holding the maple syrup. I put it down.

“Duke?” I feel a hand on my wrist and look over to find Julia watching me, “You okay?”

I nod, “Yeah.”

“You're gonna eat then, right? It's good stuff. You made it. Don't you trust yourself?” she nudges me slightly with her arm and I give her a smile. Good stuff. Good stuff.

I mean, waffles...that's just. It does make sense that I would. Waffles, and the bacon—not cheap microwaveable sausages, probably not shelf stable milk from the food pantry either, what is this madness?

Julia's nuzzling at me gently and I shift position she scoots herself under my arm. She's moved her chair closer to mine so she's close enough to engage the dastardly snuggle mode. Not complaining though. There's a fork with bacon and waffle in front of my mouth soon after. I take the bite and eat it. It is damn tasty. I have to admit and it's fun being fed by Julia too. I don't pay much attention to anything else besides Julia and her teasingly trying to snatch bits from my own fork until I 'relent' and let her take it until I hear Audrey.

“No, they do this all the time.”

“Do...we...do this a lot, too?” Nathan asks her, and then there's some awkward silence for a moment, and when I look over he's hesitantly offering her a forkful of pancake. She takes it with a smile that's cute but also a bit...not exactly shy or embarrassed but somewhere in this gray area in the middle. I will not say anything about this I will just eat my waffle.

“So,” Julia says, “what do you remember about whoever it was you ran in to?” she directs at Nathan who is toying with his food now.

“I don't--” he starts, but then pauses and thinks for a moment and makes a face, “It's weird, because I remember packing things this morning—but I also...” he cuts up some pancake with his fork, “it was a...” he stares off out of the big glass doors towards the dock, “...they were,” he holds a hand up against his body, “this tall, and had fair hair and were with a woman, auburn with dark tips, and she was a couple of inches shorter then...them?”

“Let me get this straight,” Julia says, pointing at Nathan with a piece of bacon, and then taking a bite before continuing and pointing at him with the rest of the piece, “this person was in high school with you and you're not sure if they're male or female, that's what I'm getting here?”

“Um...yeah...” Nathan nods, somewhat relieved.

“Perfect!” she says, “That's Sam!”

“Sam?” I ask her, certain things clicking into place now, “Samantha?”

“Well, Samuel now,” Julia clarifies.

“That's why she wouldn't sleep with me. That explains so much,” I lean back in the chair, smacking one hand on the table. Probably a different relief than Nathan's and I can see him actively fighting against saying something. But seriously, that's bugged the shit out of me.

Audrey has her hands over her face for a moment though and then looks across at us, “So...that's all true. That, that, seriously is...I keep thinking that you guys exaggerate, but is Julia really the only, and well, now this Saman—Samuel the only girl during high school that you didn't sleep with?”

I shrug, “Well, who was of age, I'm pretty sure.”

Is Nathan going to explode? He stabs at pieces of pancake and shoves them in his mouth.

“Really?” Audrey flails, somewhat exasperated, “Well, did you sleep with the teachers too?”

I have to laugh, “Funny you should say that.”

Hands go to face again.

“Not all of them. Just two.”

Audrey mutters something at that, but I can't quite make it out. I have a good idea it's something along the lines of 'oh is that all?'

“Plus Vice Principal Dolores Bachman.”

Hang on. I have to look over at her at that. How does she--? I have to have, “I told you about that?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “You were drunk. We weren't sleeping together yet.”

Okay, then.

Nathan's looking at Julia with a concerned curiosity.

“How did you know about Saman-Samuel?” Audrey asks.

“You remember the reunion dance--” Julia starts.

“Yeah, I remember you weren't there.”

“Well, before we snuck out to have all the sex ever in the back seat of my Mom's car we did a meet and greet with everybody and Sam introduced us to his lovely wife,” Julia giggles for a moment then, hiding her face in my arm as it becomes more of just laughter.

“What's so funny?”

“Robbie's Trouble. We were teenagers,” she looks up again, and returns her expression to the table at large.

“So, this has happened before?”

“No. Physically teenagers. It's funny because you're mentally but not physically and then we were physically but not mentally.”

“Despite what you tried to make me think,” Audrey mutters.

“Successfully,” Julia chirps with a grin.  

Audrey shakes her head, “If you two weren't so--” she makes a hand motion that I can't quite interpret, “and I weren't—hadn't been trying to—anyway, Sam?”

“Yes,” Julia says, “You know the Uncles were talking about “old curmudgeon” Burleigh having died earlier in the week and his funeral is in a few hours. I imagine that could be what brought Sam and his wife back to Haven.”

“That could also spark a Trouble,” Audrey muses, “family stress, or passing along with the death of the relative.”

“Or both,” Julia says, “but I don't think Sam's grandfather was entirely supportive of Sam being transgender, and I'm also not entirely sure if they've seen Sam since he's been Samuel, so...”

“That's all a big powder keg,” Audrey says, “but Duke hasn't seen Sam at all. So, why did he..?”

Julia smacks her forehead in the 'of course/duh' type motion, “The coffee mug,” she points at the one in Nathan's hand.

He looks over confused, “It's Chief's actually. I was wondering why it was here, but I just decided to go with it.”

“Good man,” Julia jokes, “but no. The Burleigh's have a pottery place in town and they make all sorts of things, including mugs. I'm betting Garland got that from Sam. Just before Nathan stormed back in before Duke had drunk from that mug by mistake.”

“Let's just not test that theory by having you drink from it right now, okay, please?” Audrey begs of Julia.

She laughs, “No, that's okay. Someone needs to keep an eye on this one,” she pokes me in the upper arm, and I make like I'm disastrously hurt, “He can't stay here and manage the bar. He's not going to know who anyone is.”

“Yeah, it's probably best to keep the boys separate too. Not sure how much longer the cease fire will last,” Audrey says, looking between Nathan and I.

“Very true,” Julia agrees, “but he can go with you to track Sam down, all he really has to do is hang around and look stern.”

Audrey tries to be serious at that, but winds up giggling a little bit, “You do have a point. Have you started Academy yet?”

“I'm in college,” he says.

College. Shit.

“Well, I don't see us needing any firearms on this anyway,” Audrey says, “Should just be a simple--”

“I can shoot,” he says, “You think Chief hasn't taught me how to shoot? But we're just talking, right?”

“Yeah,” she answers, “That's what I was saying. This should just be a simple talk thing. Let's get on about tracking them down. You guys okay here?”  

“The day crew will be getting here soon,” Julia says, “We'll clean up, and head back home. I'll just tell Shelley that Boss overworked his foot and I'm making sure he actually listens to me and rests it up so that I don't have to drag him off to the doctor.”

“Doctor?” I ask, “Why would I go to the doctor?”

“Exactly,” Julia says.

My foot has been kinda throbbing here and there but I figured it was just some other weird thing to do with the way my brain is reacting to the lack of junk.

“And there was a Trouble a few weeks back and your foot got skewered with a piece of metal,” she explains.

“Nice,” I murmur, slightly sarcastic.

“Alright. We'll head out,” Audrey stands up, and Nathan follows suit and then hesitates with the mug still in hand.

“Leave it,” Julia says, “We'll wrap it up and take it back to the Cape. Don't need any of the staff getting hold of it in case it's just a touch thing and not a drink out of it thing.”

He sets it back down on the table and follows Audrey out of the door. I pick up the mugs as we clear the table and bring things back into the kitchen. Julia puts leftover food into a box and labels it for the staff to munch on, and rinses most of the plates and puts them in the dishwasher while I rinse out the mugs and as she suggested wrap them in towels and find a small cardboard box to put them in to carry them to the Cape so I still have the old girl. I wonder how she looks. Guess we'll find out.

“So...how do I make sure I don't accidentally set off this Trouble I'm guessing I actually have?” I ask Julia.

“Don't worry, Boss,” she says, closing the dishwasher back up, “your Trouble's not that bad unless you get Troubled blood on you.”

“And then what?” I ask, picking up the box.

She purses her lips, “It feels really, really good, and then it feels really, really bad.”

That gets a snort, because seriously? I put the box down again and run my hands through my hair.

“We take a lot of precautions, beli—trust me,” she puts a hand on my arm, “I'm on a birth control that completely stops my periods, for example. It's okay. Come on, let's get to the boat and we can go into things more deeply,” she has a bit of a wink at that also, “I'll call Shelley on the way.”  

The stateroom looks incredible. Gone are the garish and ugly cabinets. I bet that stove actually works. It's not the one from the Ursa but it's been long enough it's probably been replaced, and a fridge, freezer that probably knows the difference between the two.

There's a couch, a comfy chair, bookshelves. The table actually looks better than I'd thought when I wondered about sanding and refinishing it. Everything is incredible.

“You like?” Julia laughs. I must have an amazed expression.

“Yeah,” I nod, “I—we're still just gutting her to rebuild, bringing some things from the Ursa and just completely trashing others and looking for new.”

“I remember,” she says with a slight smile, “The fridge that was auditioning to be Antarctica...”

I nod, scratching at my head sheepish, “Yeah...” it's turning to the irritable need itching, then she closes the distance.

“Let me get that for you, Boss,” she reaches her hands up on either side of my head, scraping hair back behind my ears before running her fingers across my scalp and then going to work with her nails massaging and scratching the back of my head towards my neck and I feel like I'm going to dissolve into a puddle on the floor it's so good.

We wind up sitting on the floor by the side of the couch, kissing, and I just—how is this happening?

“It drove me crazy wanting to touch when you scratched your hair like that,” she says, curling a strand back behind my ear again, “I'd forgotten that because you haven't done it in a long time.”

Well, on the upside that means I've been clean for “such a long time” but fuck. How many times have I been itchy twitchy around her and not even realized it?

“...Boss?” she asks.

Oh, shit, how to...? But she must, she has to know, right? Given what she said. I breath it out so that I can get the words, “I think...I hope I've told you...dumb shit I've done given what you...” I'm toying with my sleeves, but she was the one who pulled them up earlier to show me, and she didn't have to pull them up so far if it was just the tattoo, “earlier.”

“Oh, it's a heroin thing? That explains why you stopped,” she says, as nonchalant as if when I was talking to her about my plans for rearranging the kitchen. She knows—well, of course, that whole thing before but...okay, how long has she had to get over things even? And has things out with older me...? Oh, this is so fucking weird. She didn't run when she found out. She didn't start hating me. That's good, right? Not only that she still...and she knows all my other history too.

“I'm sorry I was so snippy back then,” she says, startling me.

“Snippy?” caught off guard.

“Testy, impatient, temperamental, spoke sharply?” she says, not going to clarify I knew that part of it but just was too lost to verify what she was meaning about when, “You were so...” she waves a hand slightly, “I now know it was the heroin and you were high, but you just seemed so confident and I'd just turned 16 and I was so afraid you saw me as an annoying, clingy little child...”

Shit. No. Stupid-ass drugs. So, nothing cements more that quitting is the right decision. If I can stop crying out of it and crawling back, “You're more adult than some of the...people I deal with at...work, and I...just,” I allow a slight laugh, “considering some of the—I probably deserve some ass-chewing, but...no, never annoying that I can think of.”

Suddenly her head is burried partly in my chest and partly between my chest and arm and she's holding on to me tightly, shaking. I shift so I can wrap my arm around her and hold her close.

“The bitches at school tried to make me think you didn't care. I was snippy with you because I was afraid they were right. So...I'm sorry,” she says, turning so that she's resting her head on my chest.

“Well, I've not been exactly the best at coming across with proof otherwise when I've actually been trying. I mean my best attempt at flirting with you recently sent you running for the hills...but I kinda figured my ass was just too wasted and disgusted you. But, no, the bitches are...were...are? Wrong.”

“I thought you were expressing affection in a little sister way, or you were too drunk to realize it was me.”

“No, I knew it was you...and I figured I could actually say things—but I fucked up. I was too wasted.”

“Mom would have cut your balls off with Grandma Carr's antique pinking shears if anything had happened, anyway,” I find myself protecting my balls instinctively, “But it's okay, because the shame helped give you the strength to get clean...and I know how much I mean to you because I helped you get clean.”

“Yeah...I've been trying to,” I feel still somewhat ashamed of myself but I also can't help but snort derisive, “but it...”

She laughs softly and runs a hand lightly down my chest, “Don't worry, Boss. I'm very fond of your package. And if you're going to say it's hard, but it was going to come out as a dirty joke. I'm going to have to tell you that I am completely on board with that.”

I laugh at that, “Well, not quite what I was going to say but that's good to hear. I was going to say...it's good to hear it works, and I mean I can see it worked; and thank you for not actually running for the hills despite all my shit.”

“Wouldn't run for the hills, anyway,” she says, still idly tracing across me, “I would steal your boat and head out to sea,” I'm treated to a wicked smile, “Maybe keep you on board as my gypsy love slave.”

All this is hiding behind Julia who helps me scrape ragged paint strips off the wooden parts of the Cape and carries pallets and tools and equipment without complaint. Damn, “Wickedest wench on the high seas.”

“Damn straight. Pirate-Queen Julia off to seek her fortune,” she says, there's silence for a while, stretching out like the band that was at one point holding my hair, “...wanna seek my fortune?”

This peaks my attention, of course, “X marks the spot?” I hope she's meaning what I think she's meaning.

“The spot is usually your bed,” oh she is meaning, hot damn, “...although the couch is right here.”


Cut for NSFW stuff and can be seen: in the archive here should you so desire.


“You okay, Boss?” she asks after a little while longer of us laying there while she strokes my hair and I find myself tracing circles around her chest, trying to put things together.

“I don't—everything's all--,” I take the hand away from her chest and swirl it around my head.

“Do you want me to start filling you in on the last decade and a half?” she offers, kissing my forehead again.

“There are things I'm curious about,” I admit with as much of a laugh as I'll allow, “but you know what they say about a man knowing too much about his own future...” and how I'll chew it to death more than I'm chewing things to death already.

“Well, how about I keep it to when I came back to town, then?” she suggests, “Because I was sort of gone for fourteen years.”

“What the hell,” I decide. Either way something's going to be bugging the shit out of me after all.

She plays with my hair for a little while, curling strands around her finger and then brushing them back behind my ears and then again, “I left after I graduated high school,” so she gets out, good, but then, she gets out, and the way she said things that's by herself, “Saved all the money—well, most of the money—you paid me and went to Texas. After that, I joined up with some people and traveled as much of the world as I could before and I had to come home because...” she nods her chin towards the shoulder that has a tattoo on it, a strange maze that's sort of partly made out of people, “...I woke up one day with this.”

I reach out and rub it cautiously with my thumb, given strange magically appearing tattoo and all. I mustn't sound horribly disappointed that we apparently don't have any contact for over a dozen years. She escapes that's a good thing, that's more than a good thing, “but you got out of have, that's awesome. Amazing adventures?”

She laughs, “I did everything I could that was something I'd never experience in Haven, from eating grilled rattlesnake to wearing a sari to camping in the African bush...” she brushes my hair behind my ear again.

“That's really cool. I can't say I've worn a sari.”

“...I still missed you though.”  

“I—oh?”

I feel her cheeks warming a little. She's blushing, “I did a lot of things in my time out in the world. Sex wasn't one of them. No one measured up to you and I refuse to settle for anything but the best.”

Best what? “Well, you sure know how to set a strange standard,” I tell her, shifting to look her in the eyes. It's still amazing that she's here lying with me, grinning at me at this point.

“In terms of attractiveness, treating me with respect or sheer sexual skill? Because, you know, every other girl in high school can't all be wrong.”

I fan my face like an old timey Southern girl, “Pshaw. Shucks.”

She pokes me in the chest, but she's not entirely serious, “I taught myself to masturbate because of you, Boss. Be glad Mom never found out her precious little girl was getting all hot over That Crocker Boy.”

“You--” I cough because my brain catches up with what she said, “--sorry? What?”

“You're too sexy,” she pouts at me, but I realize she's as serious as she was when she poked me if not less, and she goes on, “I had to learn how to take care of things because you got me all worked up just by smiling.”

“A smile?” I sigh as melodramatically as I can muster and flop against the side of the couch, “and I was all freaked out about things and screwed all that stuff up...” and then I flop dramatically sideways again.

“So,” Julia says, leaning over me, I wrap an arm around her, “when I woke up with a tattoo that looked years old, I booked it back to town so fast I had to ship my motorcycle and discovered that not only did you still have this distinguished lady, but you actually owned a legitimate business and only a minority of the town still hated you.”

“Okay,” I say, squeezing her into a hug and cradling her breasts as I do, “still having the dear Cape I can get behind, because that's a prying from cold dead hands sorta thing but the legit business and the town what now? Are we...are we,” I drop my voice to an exaggerated whisper, “sure they're not the ones who've been hijacked by some pod people Trouble or something? Can there be Troubles within Troubles?”

She giggles, “Nope, you bribed 'em fair and square with good booze and good food. And Bill tricked you into buying it. It's not like you earned it.”

“I suppose that's something. Can't be coming over all good and proper now.”

“Mmm,” she says, nuzzling against my shoulder a little bit, “well, I've got bad news for you there, Boss. My good reputation rubbed off on you.”

I can't help but laugh a little at the rubbing off reference because obviously that's not all of that she's doing, but how, sure she was gone, but she came back. I can't see Eleanor just rolling over and suddenly giving us her blessing no matter what bar I have. I don't see a bar making that any better at all, really but what do I know. I don't even know how we got together.

“How...?” I ask her, “How did we...?”

“How did we?” she queries, turning to make sure she's looking right at me.

“...get together.”

“Oh,” she says, “Well, first there was six weeks of us driving each other crazy with trying to ignore the sexual tension because neither of us wanted to fuck up our friendship. Then there was a noise while you were showering, and when I went to see if you were okay you were hard as a rock and full of shame that I was seeing you like that. I told you to sit your ass down on the bed and started with a little oral, and when you didn't tell me to go away I climbed onto the bed with you and told you to fuck me,” she...there...how, what now? What was...? How did that even...? “Afterwards, we talked a bit and realized we both wanted more than friendship and we've been together ever since,” she snuggles down against me like a contented cat, but I'm more confused than ever. She was on the boat while I was showering, not too strange she was probably helping me with something, but did I slip? Why did...? Maybe it was just absolute breaking point? She did say six weeks...and this is six weeks after more than a dozen years...that is a long time, but okay fucking stop this shit. Stop it. You're being ridiculous again.

“So, wait...why was I? Why hadn't I just...?” I make the jacking off motion with my hand because I can't leave things alone.

Now she gets a guilty look, but it's nothing like the one Audrey was sporting earlier and she lets out a vague sigh, “There was a Trouble. You had but it didn't work. Neither did a hot shower, a cold shower, falling into the water, or my mouth.”

“That's an...interesting Trouble, and a...well,” I laugh. I don't want to say Godsend because that's just...

She smacks my shoulder, “I tried to make it sound better than it was, but noooo, you gotta ask logical questions,” and the award for most exaggerated pout goes to Ms. Julia Carr.

I kiss her irresistibly sexy pouty lips.  

She kisses back but it's not going where I'd like it to go, but then she pulls back from my mouth and breathes against my ear, “I know us, we'll probably wind up having sex, a lot, until Audrey and Nathan find Sam and sort things out, but is there anything you want to know first?”

Shit...that could be an essay and a half except am I even going to remember any of it and will it fuck things up for them...us...future us? How the fuck do these Trouble things work? And too much knowing and how are we even...anyway because surely, “...your mom...?” works it's way out of my mouth because I still don't know how Eleanor hasn't stabbed me or arranged a hit for me deflowering her precious daughter even if Julia is of age.

“Mom's not around anymore,” Julia sighs but also stretches, “She went to Carpenter's Knot for a weekend getaway and broke her neck falling down the stairs. I'd just come back to town, hadn't even unpacked yet. You let me stay the night, and I just sort of moved in rather than go back to her house.”

“Wow,” I laugh, “so you got to see all my bad habits, and knew I was a man whore and yet you still wanted to have sex with me?”

She returns the laugh, “Your bad habit is that you sometimes forget you're not wearing anything. If I'd known you did that I would have fought to pay rent because damn that ass deserves money waved at it,” She knows about the sex life but does she know about the other things, “and well, I figure after your first thousand, your transcend man whore and attain the status of sex god.”

Well, that's...but fuck she's been having sex with this 'sex god' how can she..? how can I..? “first thousand?”

“Well, yeah,” she nods, “We figure you're up to three, three and a half, maybe four,” she runs a finger up my chest, “It's not like you kept track. Not that I knew that when I first came back, but you did have a reputation in high school, and I'm pleased,” she gives me a wicked look, “...to say that you definitely live up to it.”

Future me lives up to it.

But then she's kissing my neck, “You're very good,” she says, between them, “the bitches at school weren't exaggerating. But that was on top. I learned some tricks of my own, and I'm pretty good on top, too. So...wanna see what you've been missing?” There's a thought, “Or should I go grab Nathan's coffee mug and let you make my teenage self think she's died and gone to heaven? Because Duke Crocker actually wanting to have sex with her, and her mother not being around to say no...”

Oh, man. That's a...but then does there have to be a choice? “...could there be both?”

Cut for NSFW stuff and can be seen: in the archive here should you so desire. 



“Oh?” I muster, turning away slightly, “Now you want to kiss?”

She smacks me playfully on the shoulder, “You can't pull that with me. I know you.”

I lean around and kiss her, because she has a point, and who knows when this is going to end, anyway, and I'll be back, and I'm not even going to speculate about if I even remember or not.  

She snuggles down against my shoulder, “I got bullied,” she says, softly, “because the bitches were afraid of what would happen if I thought I had a chance with you. They tried to convince me that you'd never want me,” she looks over at me and I don't think I've seen her looking quite so vulnerable, maybe when she was first asking if she could watch me work? Maybe, because it's coupled with a pleading expression, “...fuck me like you're proving them wrong?”  


Cut for yet more NSFW stuff and can be seen: in the archive here should you so desire. 

“Mmm,” she says, pulling back again and sitting up, then kneeling up on the couch to wrap her arms around my neck and move so she can kiss me again.

“Acceptable?” I ask.

She laughs then, “You are never just acceptable, Duke Crocker. Not even in my dreams.”

I shake my head, “You know how to stroke a guy's ego.”

She laughs again, “Speaking of dreams. Do you still want to make teenage mes wildest ones come true?”

“How could I not?” I ask her, “Considering it's been a fantasy of mine,” that I can now admit freely. I reach for my shirt.

“Clothes?” she inquires.

I nod, “I thought it might be less freaky for her to not start out naked?”

She shrugs, “Maybe. I figured she...would just assume it was a sex dream.”

I raise an eyebrow at that, “Why wench do I want to know?”

“Did you forget the part where I said I taught myself to masturbate because of you?” she says, but she's grabbing her own clothes as well.

Right. She did say that. I finish fastening my pants, shaking my head. The laugh doesn't quite escape but the expression is there.

“So,” she says. Her eyes are smirking at me, “Where do you want to take things?”

I go to the kitchen counter where I set the box of mugs. I had made sure to put Nathan's mug on top in the middle so I'd remember where it was, and I unwrap it carefully. We don't know if just touching the mug causes the change, so I go to the fridge assuming future me will have milk or juice in there which he does.

“Well,” I say, as she picks out the juice bottle and pours it into the mug, “if you're talking about dream assumptions what do you say to the bedroom that I'm assuming I have?”

She takes me by the arm, “It's this way.”

“I would hope so,” I point out, “that is where we put the bed in my time.”  

She laughs a little then, “Well, yeah. Your bed's still in there, and I technically have a bed in there,” she waves a hand towards the extra room that's mostly just full of random supplies at the moment, “but I don't exactly sleep in there.”

“Do you exactly sleep in my bedroom?” I ask with a grin.

“Some times,” she returns with a wink, sticking her tongue out and pushes open the door with her free hand.

The room is so different. The bare walls have been painted. The bed has luxurious looking sheets and pillows, and a comforter folded up at the base. There's two dressers, brightly varnished with a couple of things displayed on them and decorations on the walls. Julia smooths the comforter out across the bed as I set the mug on the dresser and look around. I recognize a large iridescent mostly oval shaped shell on top of the closest dresser, something I found while diving in Bermuda but not the smaller two inside it, or the sand dollar but there's been over a dozen years to collect things in the mean time.

Julia sits down on the edge of the bed, “Well, Boss, are you ready?”

I don't say anything but I do hand her the mug.

“It takes a little bit,” she points out, as she drinks some of the juice, and then takes another mouthful, and then hands me back the mug which I set down carefully against the rim around the edge of the dresser so it won't fall and break, and then I sit down next to her.

“How do you feel?” I ask her.

She gives me a slight smile, “Fine,” she shakes her head, “Come here and kiss me. Dream, right?”  

She opens the door as I'm putting the plank down, “When are we setting off.”

“Well we can set off after eating and stop for a while and sleep...or I can sleep and,” I shudder, “get up early, and get us going if you're willing to make morning food.”

“I'm all for leaving now,” she says, “Why torture...but I can still make breakfast. That way you can pilot some more—get us more distance.”

“I prefer this plan.”

She laughs, “Then why not just rule it?”

I shrug, “I was feeling democratic.”

After rock, paper, scissors I make us a steak stir fry and then we get underway after stopping to gas up. Julia joins me in the cockpit after about twenty minutes bringing with her my jacket.

She sits down nearby and watches me for a little while, “So, earlier—I was wanting to ask you about the tattooed man—I mean we talked about that whole thing...”

“No, that's fine,” I agree, “It's fine. I just got bent out of shape for a bit because there was a death threat, but that's done with. I'm good. I promise.”

She nods for a moment, but then, “Death threat?”

“That's done with. Stoney's arrested—she's the one who was after me.”

“Sooo...Evi,” she says.

I find myself wincing, “Can we talk about the tattooed guy again?”

“Sure,” she says, unfortunately, “Look, you did want me to keep you on track there, right?”

I nod.

“If there was a tattooed guy who showed up right in front us would you freak out?”

I sigh, because I know me, “I guess it would depend on what he was doing,” I run a hand through my hair, “I—damn it, I'd be on edge, watching him, body language...this is exactly why I didn't want Vanessa to tell me.”

It's her turn to sigh, “Remember how I said that I inherited mine like a birthmark. Uncle Vince did his too, and I mean you freaking out about these things it's—it's pretty much like when people in town freak out because you're a Crocker.”

Ouch.

“I know there are times I could see Uncle Vince actually wanting to kill you,” she laughs, “he's really harped on about me living on the boat with you almost as bad as Mom would about me hanging out with you sometimes...but can you imagine Uncle Vince--” she lunges towards me thrusting her hand in my face.

“Watch it,” I flail away, deliberately spinning the wheel, “I'm steering here.” I shift us back on course quickly and the Cape lunges back in the opposite direction.

“Are you trying to make me sea sick?” she demands.

“I'm not the one threatening to strangle me.”

“I was trying to prove you're being an idiot.”

“Point made, alright?” I tell her, “I was being stupid—an idiot even.”

“Good. Now, Miss Dense.”

I have to laugh at that too, “Fine, but you need to go get beer and bring it up here.”

Julia makes good and returns with a six pack of German beer in glass bottles. She sets it between us. I pop one open and hand it to her and then do the same for one of my own caps clinking back into the cardboard carry holder. I've had a few minutes to think but I'm still not sure exactly what to get into with regards the several years of Evi debacle that I lived. I can hope that she'll have blown town by the time we get back so it'll really be a none issue, but I wouldn't put it past her to go around interrogating people—if she's got some weird scheme in mind—and, of course, then she'll find out I was full of shit. Julia leans over and clinks bottles with me.

“I'm hoping she'll be a none issue when we get back,” I point out, “That I convinced her I was blowing town and only had the Gull as a front...”

Julia laughs, “She's your past and everything...”

“Yeah. I left her...” I try to think, “several years ago, as I said.”

“Is it okay for me to hate her, Boss? Because I kind of think I hate her.”

I sort of snort-laugh at that, for a moment there's a snippet of a thought that Julia is jealous of her, but that's quickly chased down by common sense given the lack of reason for anything like that. Julia's crush on me was a decade or more ago. Now, it's just friendship and I'm not fucking that up, I have precious little of it.

“I'm not going to say anything if you do. I...our relationship was mutually destructive,” I shake my head, “romantic equivalent of heroin really,” I drain the beer, and get another one. Julia is still working on her first, “but it's done. She might be after more,” I smirk, “but I'm not. It's not a good place to be...too many opportunities to turn into my father; but like I said, hopefully she'll be gone when we get back. You dunking her in the drink can't have done anything for her pride either.”

Julia gives a light laugh but she still looks pensive as she takes another sip of her beer, “So, no working arrangements with her? Because I really don't want to have to apologize for dunking her and try to make nice.”

“No,” I shake my head, emphatically, “None. I don't foresee having any, either. She did have a job offer, but she screwed me over badly the last time we worked together and just no.”

“Good,” Julia says, “Because I mean, she waltzes in and thinks she can just do whatever the fuck she's used to without stopping to assess the situation? Or even asking if her help is needed, or listening to the answer? She either gets the hell out of town, or she's going to get herself hurt or killed butting into something she doesn't understand and isn't trying to understand, and she's going to blame everyone but herself for it.”

“Alright, then.”

Julia shakes her head out, “Okay,” she says, “I said my piece. I'm done on that.”

I nod. At least Evi didn't show up trying to bind me to her with a child. I don't need to be following that train of thought right now.

“Duke?” Julia asks, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I nod, “Just getting tired. Find a good place for us to drop anchor and we can sleep for the night.”

She nods, and goes to the map, and the GPS and comes up with a place within fifteen minutes of where we are now. We drop anchor next to a small island, and I take the rest of the beer with me to my cabin as I bid Julia good night.

“I'm making breakfast,” she reminds me, “You're the one who can drive.”

“It's piloting. This is a boat, not a car. Don't offend her.”  

I feel sick.

Chill. Cold.

To the Bone.

She's gone. My father—it's so vivid. Her body—broken, violated, bloody. Nate there with me, argument and accusation gone in the visual of that moment hitting us both. The lights, the sirens. Nate sticking up for me for what might have been the last time.

Coming back to the stinking house empty and drinking down Simon's special vodka because no fucks and then him so full of rage at that, but then just laughing, because you're what? Upset about that? “I did you a favor. You've already tapped it. Why do you need to keep it?...What do you mean you didn't? Wow. So I...”

White. Hot.

And the fight, and the beating, because too much vodka; but then...

...he didn't expect the sledgehammer while he was sprawled out in the easy chair full of victory second best vodka, “That's how you repay me?”

Rage. Hot.

Years...this shouldn't...she's gone. She can't be. She should be here. This has to be a dream. I have to be making...I have to get out of this. There weren't needles, smokes, smack or selling myself. There weren't...I left. I got out of Haven. This is wrong. My brain is on fire with the wrongness. Simon died. He didn't take me Troubled hunting. I can make out bits and pieces of a room, of white, of jarring in my hand. I can see a needle and a fire.

Smell stale old smoke of a burned out bakery that isn't burned out. Here chatter and banter, angry phone calls, and bleeding arms, and the breathless sparks of cinnamon sugar silver high, that's not a sensation I've had...but it feels so strong and clear, and righteous because she's gone and this bastard—this bastard is as much the problem as the one who met the sledgehammer.  

$$$$

“Duke! Duke!” Julia's voice, her hands on my face and in my hair, drawing me back from the shadow of an upturned garden shed and into this room of beeping machines and drawn shades. There are a couple of other people.

“Julia--” I can hardly feel my own voice, “You're okay...you're alive,” I have to touch her, to make sure. This—this might be a trick. I know it can't have been real but at the same time it feels so, fucking detox nightmare.

“You're—you're shaking,” she murmurs, pushing through a nurse and an orderly who had moved her aside to do some sort of check, “that's not—that's fear...what happened?”

“It's so st—but it felt—you—you were dead.”

“I was what?” Her anger. Red. Hot, “Can we get another tox screen on him, please?” she points at the nearest hospital person, “Now.”

There's a moment of must get needle away from me. No more needles.

Julia close at my side moves in closer, cradling my head, stroking my hair, “Whatever you experienced I'm here now. You're safe. I'm going to call Audrey though, because...it has to happen. It will happen. Do you want it to happen in here where you can listen or I can take it out in the corridor, it's just there may be yelling, so...”

Blood is drawn. There is no cinnamon.

“We'll clear out,” the orderly says, even though he doesn't have the blood.

“Good,” Julia says, “Thank you. You want in on the call or not, Boss?”

Hearing Boss makes me want to cry. I'm also feeling so, so very sore and disjointed, and dry. I have to know what's going on. I know Julia will tell me but this whole mess in my head, “I have to be in on the call.”

Julia lowers the guard rail and I shift over as best I can, stiff and uncomfortable. My body doesn't feel quite right. She curls up next to me and rests her head on my chest. I find I'm examining my arms but they're as clear as they've been for years—not the stream of scabby, purple mess I was afraid of. She presses Audrey's face and I hear it dialing and the click of connection.

“What the hell, Audrey?” Julia demands.

“Wha--?” Audrey replies, “What do you mea--” but Julia cuts her off.

“You know. You're the only one who would.” I find myself, as well, as running my hand through Julia's hair the way she often does mine, lifting it towards my face here and there and breathing in the scent of it, assuring myself she's there. I can remember the things we've done. The camping trip with Nathan and Audrey, the songs, the sex, all the sex, the quickies, and not-so-quickies, the pledges and promises, the tattoos, cradling her against me in the car in some car park in Portland because to her I'd been gone six months thanks to that stupid fucking not-Barn. All those nights drinking because I thought that nothing like this could ever be, but at the same time, there's her broken body, and that guy's skull beneath my hands scrunching like papier-mâché toy.

“I don--”

“You were going to tell us, right?”

“Let me finish a sentence, would you?” Audrey rushes out, “What do you think I know about that I need to be explaining?”

“How Duke managed to contain another Trouble from his fucking hospital bed?” The guy whose skull—he was I remember the cinnamon sugar bread blood, and the rush that gave way to the strength to do that, “Potentially while I was right there WITH HIM?”

“That wasn't a detox nightmare?” I ask. My voice must sound horrible because the sound of scrabbling and jingling of keys comes through Audrey's side of the phone conversation and I can feel the shakiness. I lost her. I lost her. My own father killed her. He did those things to her and there's the minor level of knowing it wasn't me who found her but I feel it anyway. The ache of losing her.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit,” she says, uncharacteristically full of swearing, “I'll be right there.”

“Good,” Julia snaps the phone shut and tosses it at her purse. She wraps her arms around me tightly, and I cling to her to make sure she doesn't disappear that this reality stays with me and doesn't roll back into the heroin-drenched nightmare of the Ursa, sledgehammers and skull-crushing void, “It's okay,” she whispers, “You're safe. I'm here. I'm here if you want to get it out, if you want to talk about it. You don't have to talk about it, but if you need to or want to I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. You're safe.”

The dam breaks. I cry someone else's tears long buried under more than a decade of pain at her death, and the relief of both of us that she's not been brutalized and killed, “He killed you,” slips out at some point, “You were dead. He killed you. It was—it was...” I stop myself from saying anything more about it, and she holds me and repeating over and over that I'm safe, and she's there and she's not going anywhere, and that she loves me and she'll always be here, echoes of words I said in Portland, and she tilts my face to hers and kisses me over and over too, until I can stem the tide enough and find some way to actual sentences.

It's then I notice Audrey is sitting in the chair next to the one that Julia's purse is on. She's turning her cell phone round and round in her hands.

“Tell me it wasn't your idea,” Julia demands of Audrey.

Audrey shakes her head, “No. It was hi—other Duke's,” she amends, looking at me, “I told him to call for back-up if he found Pearson.”

“And you honestly thought he would?” she kisses me on the forehead and then presses her forehead against mine while stroking my hair with both her hands. It's so reassuring

“I...” Audrey seems really off-balance. She's still moving her phone around from one hand to the other.

Julia shifts her position slightly so she's nestled in the crook of my arm, “Did you know I was dead?” she asks Audrey.

Audrey looks slightly embarrassed, or is it uncomfortable, “I found out after I got hit in the face but before we worked out it was probably this Andrew Pearson's Trouble that screwed up in the time line.”

Julia reaches a hand up to cup my face and kisses my nose, “When did I die in the other time line?”

“That Nathan said...sixteen years?” Audrey says.

But I know exactly. It's burned in there, “9^th September 1994,” reciting it sends a chill down my throat and throughout my chest, and my voice can barely form the words, “It was Simon.”

Julia freezes, and I take her hands and squeeze them tightly, “Oh God, Duke!” she says, and then she leans slightly closer and says more softly, “Did you make him pay?”

I nod, carefully.

“How are you remembering this?” Audrey asks, her voice is shaky.

“Good,” Julia says, softly to me, “How do you think I knew he'd taken in another Trouble?”

“The...” Audrey waves her hand around herself. The other hand is still messing nervously with her phone, “Light...scape?”

“Which I checked after he woke up out of a screaming nightmare because honestly having that thing up all the time is like having Windows 95 screen saver going constantly all over the place.”

I can see the pipes running in my head as I'm listening to someone talk. They keep pulling my attention, spiraling around each other, bright colors, breaking through lights, rolling off the screen, and out of the window into the night. Fish swim through it avoiding the net webbing and colliding with a glass screen of someone's helmet. They freak out, arms flailing and bash into the person next to them a conga line of panic. I realize Audrey and Julia have stopped to look at me because I let out a snort-laugh that has no proper place. Julia leans down as she pulls my hand up towards her mouth to kiss it before she turns back to Audrey.

“So, I'm guessing you asked where I was and he punched you.”

Now, she looks embarrassed. I wonder if she's actually going to say what she said to me-him, “Yeah...” it trails, maybe she's trying to decide too, “um...sort of. Open honesty. I said you wouldn't want to see him like that. I was freaking out...”

Yeah, that sixteen year long stomach flu...how was he not dead? I can see the snippets of him, at least twenty pounds lighter, track marks, collapsed veins, but...no infection.

Julia lets out a sigh, releasing some tension, “So, then you learned that I'd been dead for longer than I'd been alive, and he was still hurting badly enough to hit you for mentioning me, and you didn't think he was going to find the person responsible for the time line thing and...” she pauses for a moment, “take him out himself?”

Audrey puts her head in her hands, resting her elbows on her lap and rubs her hands down the back of her head.

Julia pulls her hands free of mine and runs her fingers up one of my arms gently, “You're okay. You're clean. I don't blame the other you. You did what you had to do in order to keep going, right?”

“Apparently that was all the heroin,” I tell her after a long sigh, and then I shake my head, “seems like Crockers just don't die unless they're murdered though.”

“Good, because I want you around for a very long time. Besides, the other you had to stick around long enough to get revenge and fix things, right?”

“So it seems.”

She drops her voice again, “Was it clean, or did you make it hurt?”

I lean my head over to her ear, “It hurt him, for a little while,” I realize my voice is shaky, “He screamed pretty loudly so it attracted attention.”

She moves so that she can kiss me gently on the lips, “If I could have done it, I would have made him hurt a lot for what he put you through.”

“Tiny vengeful girlfriend,” I murmur.

“He hurt you. Even if it was the other you, you still remember it. He's lucky he's dead,” she wets her lips, “Do you regret killing him?”

That's the strange part. I remember how I felt when I had to kill Nix, when the gravedigger threw himself on the knife and most recently with Madeline, but this...it's just mostly—it's just the way he went about things, “I—I mostly feel a little creeped out by it—by the way it felt but not that it happened.”

She kisses me again, “My vengeful gypsy.”

“And he'd ruined many peoples lives. He did it because he wanted Dad and the Rev together...murdering Troubled and me to learn how to do it right.” Simon was a Legend. I shudder. Most of the life itself is snippets only, but the last few hours they're pretty clear right up until the point his skull broke apart in my hands.

“So, if you'd found him first,” Julia asks Audrey, “What would you have done?”

Audrey looks pale, “Well, I was going to say that we'd have wanted to know his reasons and we didn't get to because...but that...” she's stuttering, and her hands know what to do with themselves even less, “...that rolls back to what happened with the Rev.”

“In this time line or that one?” Julia asks, drily.

“In this one,” she gives an almost soundless laugh, “In that one apparently Simon somehow freaked the Rev out so much he switched sides,” she shakes her head. She's probably wondering like I do what the final straw on that was. Other Duke had no real idea exactly when the Rev switched, was it before Julia's murder I have to wonder because Simon didn't live too much longer after that.

“The question still stands,” Julia points out, “What would you have done with him, Audrey, if Duke hadn't found him first?”

“I know,” she says, looking down at her fingers, “Questions: finding out about the Trouble and it's specifics, why he did it. If he'd actually told us the truth on that though he'd have to go, like the Rev, because there's no way he could be trusted to just not put everything right back that way again if we could even get him to reverse it.”

“Did you find his body? I mean, in this time line. I assume there was one.”

“That's what I was setting up when you called. Body hunt.”

Julia's face quirks into a smile, “How did you explain that one?”

“It's...more like missing person, possible body, anonymous threat, Haven thing.”

“Duke,” Julia kisses my hand again, “do you mind if I spread word through the Guard as to what happened?”

I shake my head. My brain is running down a path of physical evidence on the body pointing to me being the killer and what might happen. Though I have been clearly in hospital this whole time with multiple witnesses and this was very, very justifiable.

“Let it be known that it's a very bad idea to try and rewrite the past,” Julia says her grin turning quite malicious, and quite sexy.

“I'm sure The Guard will be very pissed to hear the re-write took out their favorite tiny cowgirl,” I nuzzle her ear with my nose.

She caresses the tattoo on my wrist lightly with one finger, “The more important lesson—especially for the troublemakers—is that you killed to defend me.”

I touch my forehead against hers.

“My gypsy-on-a-leash,” she whispers, eyes twinkling.

Damn this catheter. Even so I have to give a slight smile, “not while we're stuck here...”

“I didn't even bring—” Julia has started to say.

Audrey awkwardly clears her throat, “I...think I should be going. I...questions...answered?”

“I take it if there's anything else about this Trouble incident I should know about, you'll tell me later?” she says to Audrey.

Audrey nods, wishes me well, says goodbye and scoots out the door.

“As I was saying,” Julia says, with a sly smile, “I didn't even bring the harness. Once I get you home, though...” she gives me a gentle kiss, “Feeling better though, Boss?”

Home. That feels like years away, “Somewhat...feels like we're gonna be stuck here forever now,” though if I'm feeling my actual self out, “Haziness and chills and fever though, they don't seem to have been...so...maybe that part...”

“We'll wait on the tox screen,” Julia says in tones of Magda saying no to snacks before dinner, “but,” she gropes at the air the way I know means she's checking the Lightscape, “it doesn't look like it's struggling. Do you feel like you're crashing?”

“I did when I first woke up, but I'm just sore now.”

“Is there anything I can do to help that won't make things worse in a different way?”

“I promised I'd stop complaining about not being able to go home,” I point out, “...and I know tox screen.”

She snuggles against me, “I know it sucks, but if you need more help than I can provide, I want you to be able to get it. Although,” she continues, tracing those circles on my chest, “I'm really looking forward to being able to cook for you again. Not to mention other things.”

“Ah, yeah. There are many things to look forward to, especially getting shot of this damned catheter,” I pout.

“Make a list,” her kiss teases all sorts of possibilities which make the catheter so much worse, “I wouldn't want to miss any of them.”

“Wicked wench,” I point out.

There's a knock on the door frame which interrupts me kissing her nose and an apologetic nurse.

“I hope you'll forgive my interruption because I have some positive news,” she says.

Julia practically flies off the bed and over to the nurse to look at the paperwork. I daren't breathe. Are we getting out of here? Please tell me we're getting out of here. When Julia finally looks over at me I'm sure I'm just staring at the both of them.

“There's still some in your system,” Julia says, “But it's within acceptable limits, so...”

“We can leave?”

“Yes. I'm going to get you checked out into my care.”

I flop back against the pillows throwing my arms up in the air, “Oh, thank God.”

“No,” I tell her, slowly, not moving my head from where I'm staring at the corner of the table and her neon pink crocs. I'm sitting on the edge of the bed because we were just back from the bathroom, because, of course.

“What's going on?” I hear Julia dumping bags into a chair and rushing over. She climbs up on the bed in one fell swoop and puts her arms around me, “What happened?”

“Nothing bad,” Elisa says, “Breakfast decided to reappear is all. It happens.”

She runs a hand through my hair, “I'm sorry I wasn't here,” she says, voice full of self-annoyance and kisses me on the cheek.

“It's okay,” I murmur, “What would you have done?”

“Hold your hair, goof.”

“That does feel good,” I admit as she scratches my scalp.

“Alright, you two,” Elisa says, “Let's get him properly in the bed.”

Julia climbs back down and Marcus lifts my legs up onto the bed instructing me not to help with the movement in any way. Then the fencing is put back up on either side of me.

“Julia,” I tell her, reaching for her arm, “I was telling Marcus that we'd give him some compensation at The Gull, whatever you think is fair, for him getting Wade out of here.”

“I ran into him downstairs,” she says.

I feel myself tensing and Marcus moves closer, concerned.

“It's okay,” she puts a hand over mine, “I gave him what for, and there was someone nearby who is going to spread the word he's not allowed in here.”

“The staff know too,” Marcus puts in.

“I can't believe he came up here,” Julia mutters.

“I said I would talk to him—when he showed up. I didn't invite him,” I tell her, “I thought—but this was a bad day to try to reason with him.”

She kisses my temple, and then looks around. Elisa hands her another cool rag, and she applies it to my head, “Any day is a bad day to try and reason with him,” she says, “He's been consistently unreasonable.”

“He had some interesting versions of things that have happened,” I tell her.

“Gotta love those family members who just don't get it.” Elisa remarks.

“Well, he didn't grow up in Haven,” Julia says, “So that doesn't help.”

“Oh, boy,” she says, musing on this for a while, “and a Crocker too...”

“That's why he needs to get out of town,” I say, “before he gets into some kind of fight where something happens. You think this shit would factor as a betrayal?” I lean back on the bed again, looking at Julia, “in his warped little brain? Never mind what he was trying to do to me...and the things he was implying about you.” I brush her face.

“What did he say to you about me?” she asks, “He called me a gold digger downstairs. I called him an outsider parasite.”

I laugh, every beat sending pain through my head, “There's my girl.”

“Alright, well, rest up,” Elisa says, “You know where we are—you should try and eat,” she tells me, “but give it a little while. Maybe we should switch to soup and bread or...just crackers.”

Julia nods, “We know where you are.”

“Until six,” Elisa says, “Then it's Cheri again, but that's a while yet.”

“$100 tab,” Julia says to Marcus.

“Damn, really? That's not--”

“I really don't like his brother. Especially given his ass had to be hanging around waiting for me to leave to come in here and try to pull something...so, thank you.”

“No problem,” Marcus says, “Happy to help. Our family tells stories of how generations ago they used to blight fields and before the Crockers' helped they were so worried it might spread to animals and people. So, anything you need. The tab is great, but really, honestly, I would have done it, anyway, but that did make the look on his face all the better.”

“You're keeping the tab, right?” I press with as threatening a look as I can muster.

“Well, yeah...”

“Good man.”

He tips the “hat” again and leaves.

She kisses me again, “Okay, good. Now lay back. Why don't you get some rest?”

I nestle down against her chest without complaint because I am exhausted and tiny girlfriend is nothing if not logical. Maybe tonight I can just sleep and there won't be fever or dreams. There will just be rest and then we can get out of here.  

It's a very long tunnel that I'm crawling down but then it's up and up, careful to not pull out the precariously balanced wood and metal; have to get to the top, have to climb. Things are shaking. Where is she?

Falling.

Falling.

I'm not sure if I startle Julia awake when I jolt awake myself or if she already was but just didn't expect me to move so suddenly. She's sitting by the side of my bed holding my right hand. My left has the drip in it and a weird clippy thing stuck on one finger. There's a beeping machine by the side of the bed giving the room a strange blue glow.

This is not the Cape Rouge. This is the hospital.

"Hey..." she says, kissing my right hand.

"You tricked me," I tell her. My throat is dry making my voice raspy but my skin doesn't itch and I don't feel like I need to rip my clothes off to cool down. That's something.

She gives a vaguely wicked smile, "I only trick you for your own good, remember?" she leans over cautiously, and kisses me on the lips but only gently, "No bitey vampire gypsy?"

"No. No bitey vampire gypsy," I answer, "At least not right now."

She kisses me more deeply and then feels my cheek and my forehead, "You feel more normal," she leans around me and looks at the monitor, "Definitely. That's good, see? How do you feel?"

I lean back, "Less like I want to crawl out of my skin."

"See? I was right. What would I have done with you if we went home, anyway? Locked you in the hold until things were right and listened to you suffering in horrible pain?"

I roll my head to the side and look at her carefully but I can't say anything.

"You know I'm right, don't you?"

I nod, carefully.

"It's not your fault," she cups my chin with her hand, "You weren't exactly in the best frame of mind for logical thought," she taps my nose with one finger.

"I suppose not. When can we get out of here?"

"Duke...we need to be sure you're stable before you leave. Everything's fine at The Gull I'm keeping an eye. So, you can't use that as an excuse."

"Fine."

"I know you're not right yet. You're staying here. I will get Nathan to cuff you if I have to," she says.

"Oh, please. Like I can't get out of hand cuffs."

She gives me a look, "Under any other circumstances I would believe that," she says, "but I have a feeling if you hold out your hands right now they'd be a bit too shaky to hold a fork let alone pick a lock." That's a rough truth to hear. I close my eyes again. I just...don't, "What's your problem with being here?" she continues.

"It's not home, and too many people and opportunities..."

"No one is out to hurt you, and thanks to your family's journal I've found nurses and orderlies who are very happy to work on a member of the family who is the reason their family isn't plagued by a horrible and deadly Trouble so you're very safe. Added bonus no assholes like that paramedic to deal with. Though he'd changed his tune by the time we got here. You'll be fine," she squeezes my hand.

"I don't like being like this again." I tell her, "Especially not where..."

"What do you mean--?"

Audrey saying "knock-knock" at the door cuts Julia's question off. She and Nathan are standing just outside. Audrey has a few covered scrapes on her face and hands. Nathan's left arm is in a cast and sling. He's also scraped up and covered with band-aids. Julia gets an odd smile which I think is in part that Nathan has remembered the rules for being around me and isn't just letting the cuts meet the air. I can still smell the blood but it doesn't nag at me quite so badly as it would have whenever it was I was last awake.

"Come on in," I tell them.

"Good to see you in the land of the living," she says.

"Well, I think Julia would fight Death itself if it tried to take me."

"Damn straight," Julia answers, "I didn't let the Barn keep you--and this is nothing in comparison," she pats my hand.

Audrey sits down. Nathan remains standing by the wall. His mouth is the usual straight line.

"Seems no one got out unscathed today," I point out.

"It's fine," he says, a slight smile twitches at the edge of his lips, "It doesn't hurt."

"Rub it in why don't you?" I mutter.

"Well, if you will do-it-yourself piercings of your foot with a giant piece of metal," Audrey points out.

"This is the last time I rescue you from a collapsed building," I tell her.

"It damn well better be the last time you're in a collapsed building." Julia warns.

I take her hand with mine and squeeze it tightly, "I will endeavor to comply with my lady's wishes."

"Well," Audrey says, softly, "There aren't any more building collapsing Troubles. So, that will help with that."

"Yeah..." I answer, looking off towards the wall. Julia takes a turn to squeeze my hand and run her thumb across the back of my palm.

I have to masochistically ask, "How's The Herald covering this one? Another gas leak?"

A look goes between the three of them.

"Weak foundations caused by broken plumbing lines leaking. House collapse." Nathan answers.

"You're in the paper though," Audrey adds.

I turn my head to Julia, "Please to explain why? And please tell me there are no pictures."

"The Herald thought it might be a good idea to let the town know that you risked your life and health saving Audrey, Carrie and well, trying to save Madeline," Julia says, primly, "and that subsequently you're in the hospital because of personal injury, physical exhaustion and what was it?"

"Adrenal burnout," Audrey adds, "I think there was dehydration, too. We can get you a copy."

"And no, there are no pictures of you, despite what Uncle Dave tried. Your wench wouldn't allow it while you weren't looking your best." Julia adds.

"Thank you," I lean over and kiss her.

"I still can't believe you lead us on with this trust and friendship thing for so long," Audrey says, leaning back in her seat, "I knew there was something."

"Yeah. Yeah," I wave a hand at her, "and the trust and friendship thing still stands you know. It is the most important, even if someone is conspiring with the hospital staff to keep me here."

"For your own good," she smacks my shoulder. I rub it and pout but she just sticks her tongue out at me, "I told him I'd get you to cuff him if necessary, Nathan."

"I am always happy to put handcuffs on Duke," Nathan remarks.

"Nice to know you have my back, Wuornos."

"You leaving would be a danger to yourself," he says, "Do you have that sort of hold on your record yet?"

"Not in Haven."

"That's what they had him on in Boston," Julia points out.

"But, I mean, I'd lost six months as far as they were concerned, and someone had quit the P.D. and pissed off a whole town so that didn't help some of my contact efforts."

"We're not going to rehash that again, are we?" he asks.

"I think someone's rambling through various distracting topics," Julia wheedles.

"He's the one who brought up psych holds," I point out.

"I still can't believe it spit you out in Boston," Audrey says.

"I'm just glad it wasn't the Antarctic or the middle of Death Valley. I really wasn't dressed for either. Though the second one would have offered a better chance of rescue, and that it didn't keep me twenty-seven years."

Julia shudders, "Yes. No. Not that," she kisses my hand again.

"You are doing okay though? After all that you had to do considering the other day?"

"Sure," I nod.

Julia squeezes my hand and when I look at her she's leveling a stern gaze at me.

"Well," I say, looking at her and then turning back, "yesterday? wasn't quite so good, but then someone had her nurse conspirators lay one on me," Julia starts to say something, "but—but I'm feeling a good bit better right now, so I have to admit that you were right on that and I was wrong," I direct at the tiny concerned girlfriend can't resist adding, "I still say that we should be able to go home now."

Nathan rattles handcuffs that are in his hip pocket.

"It doesn't matter that he's one handed," Audrey points out, "I have a pair too."

"That makes it all the better," Julia says, "Then we can chain your arms out like this," she spreads her arms wide, "Pick the locks then."

I glower at her.

Julia sighs, "Okay, make you a deal. Blood test to see how you're really doing and a solid meal for both of us while we wait for the result and if you're feeling good and the tox screen comes back good, we go home."

"Blood test?"

"Yes. It'll see how your body's doing. The doctor's found a way to see what goes on with your system when it's processing things—shows how the Trouble affects you. It..." she hesitates, looking at Audrey and Nathan.

"May as well. I already had it out with Audrey in the "hole" and Nate's going to make assumptions if he doesn't hear it straight."

Nathan's mouth returns to that thin line again. Audrey elbows him in the side not that it does anything to him but I imagine it makes her feel better.

"It...when the doctor got the results back he said it was like your body was processing it's way through a drug cocktail that was one part illegal drug, two parts highly restricted drugs, and one part something they couldn't even describe. He said he'd be worried if you weren't a Crocker and hadn't just...taken in a Trouble but that's why these things hit you so hard on the down swing."

I can't help but snort and shake my head, leaning back on the pillow. I take my right hand out of hers and put it up to my head, "Just brilliant."

When I look back down I see Audrey has a hand covering her mouth. Nathan's lips are pressed so tightly together they've practically disappeared. He's turned towards the wall by the door.

"Well," I muster, "This explains so much about my family, well, so much more about them." I shake my head, "It's a high, such a brief one, and the crash is just...shit...and..." I'm leaning forward again.

Julia scratches the back of my head, "So, you agree to the blood test?"

"Yes. Fine," I say into my knees, "If it'll get me out of here."

"It'll get you out of here if the tests say you're good enough. That's the deal, remember?"

"Right. Right."

She pushes the call button this time instead of going and getting someone.

"You've been doing well so far," Nathan remarks.

"It was just a lot this time," Audrey points out.

"That's all it can take at least this was for a good cause." I manage a laugh. Not some dumb celebration party in New Orleans that leaves you chasing a dragon for about a year.

Julia pushes the button again and looks towards the door irritated.

"Not youthful stupidity?" Nathan asks.

I give him a look. He returns it.

"What am I missing?" Audrey asks, "Is this a Haven Thing? or a growing up in Haven thing?"

"This is a Duke thing," Nathan says.

"So, it's a growing up in Haven thing," she says.

"Not entirely," I say, "It really depends on what he's talking about, because there were a lot of things said about That Crocker Boy while we were growing up that were not exactly true—people thought I was using..."

"And a lot of things that were," Nathan answers, "It didn't help that you kept disappearing and then they kicked you out."

"They'd been looking for an excuse for that forever. I wasn't exactly a model student," I clarify for Audrey.

"Really?" she jokes, "and I was so certain what with the snakes in lockers and all."

"One snake. One locker," I shake my head, "I would be surprised people actually remembered me my attendance was so poor, but I'm a Crocker, so...but I'm sure the staff threw a party once I was gone. Probably with what they "confiscated" from my locker. Like I was ever stupid enough to leave anything in there."

"So you did deal?" Nathan says.

"Weed, Nate. Don't get all on your high horse. And again not from my locker.” We're not going to talk about the bootlegging, “I'm not an idiot. You don't hide that shit on school property. But that was years ago...and I think I've done pretty damn well without their piece of paper."

Julia leans over to cuddle against me. I half expect her to stick her tongue out at Nathan. If she does I don't see it.

"You're a smuggler and criminal." Nathan mutters.

"We all have our skill sets." I point out, "and I have a bar now, which is completely above board. Thank you very much."

"Hm," Nathan remarks. The tone suggests he has searched many hours trying to find something about The Gull to get me on and been very, very frustrated. The liquor license was a mix-up when it changed hands and names, everything else since then has been fine. Must burn him something awful.

“How many of Duke's contacts have you needed anyway?” Julia points out.

“Let's not...” Nathan starts.

“Fine. Fine,” Julia mutters.

"And here you were complimenting him yesterday and everything," Audrey remarks.

"That was real?" I ask, "I thought I was dreaming."

Nathan grimaces. A nurse comes in then, apologizing for taking a while. Julia explains what we want done. She opens drawers to get supplies, takes my blood and leaves us. Julia also asks for some food.

"What was the this about being complimentary?" Julia continues.

Audrey says, “I don't know exactly he wouldn't explain said it wasn't his place, but now they're back to hating each other after Nathan had been being so mysteriously nice."

Julia laughs, "Well, that always happens when one of them gets hurt."

"That's just because he's not allowed to die on me," Nathan points towards his left forearm with his right hand.

"Yeah, yeah," I tell him, "You know you were lost without me."

"What exactly were you saying?" Julia asks when Nathan says nothing she turns to Audrey with an inquiring eyebrow.

"Only that Duke's strong and he's gotten through things like this before and--"

"Well, yes," Julia agrees, "We manage it every time he's had to use his Trouble before. We have a system...this time was just worse probably because he had to use the boosts first..."

"Then how wasn't I here back then?" Audrey asks.

Damn it, Nathan. Nathan looks away from me.

Julia looks at me and then takes my hand again and squeezes it, "What's wrong?"

"You did beat it though whatever it was," Nathan says, "and I'm guessing by yourself somehow, and now you have Julia so..."

I'm not going to be able to get rid of them and just tell Julia am I? "...actually I had Julia then too."

Nathan raises an eyebrow and then ponders this for a moment.

Audrey has a hand to her temple, "I'm so confused..." she murmurs.

"One of the idiotic things he did when we were growing up—well, it'd be just after high school, right?” he looks at me for confirmation.

"To be fair," I add, "I did various illicit things, and have since...but," I shake my head.

"You were using. I ran into you at one point at Valufoods when you were stocking up and you didn't actually recognize me and that wasn't the first time I'd seen you just the first time I'd--"

At Valufoods when, “Wait a minute...did you call your Dad on me?”

He looks uncomfortable for half a second, “Yes,” he admits.

“Thank you,” I tell him.

Now he looks confused. I feel Julia's hand having tensed on my arm. Audrey looks equally confused.

“So, you were hooked on something,” Nathan says.

I nod, “Heroin. At that point I was trying to...” I shake my head, but that sets things spinning, “You get stupid ideas when you're addicted though. Oh, I can cut back, wean myself off and it won't be so bad detoxing,” I snort, “Yeah. No. I was sort of realizing that was dumb and I need to quit-quit, and then I talked to him, and that gave me that extra...push.”

"Wait—that's what that was," Julia murmurs.

"What?" Audrey queries.

"When you were so sick while we were fixing up the Cape but you didn't want to come to the doctor in town. Oh, well, of course, Mom would have found out, but that stomach flu that not yet chief brought the meds to help you get through. You were detoxing..."

I nod. Just then an orderly comes in with a tray of food breaking the strained tension. Julia gives Audrey a look. Audrey stands up and puts her hand on Nathan's shoulder.

“Oh, yes,” he says.

“It was good to see you,” Audrey says, “Let us know if you get out.”

Julia assures them that we will as the orderly wheels a table around with the covered tray of food on it. Audrey waves from the door, following Nathan out.

“What have we got?” Julia asks the orderly, a burly man whose name tag says Meers.

He lifts the cover off with a flourish it's a pie, of some sort, baked into a bowl and french fries, and a small bowl of fruit. There are two bottles of water laying down on the tray as well and some napkins as well as a knife and fork.

“Anything else I can get you?” he asks, “More blankets? Pillows? The nurse said the blood results will be at least another hour. She's put as much of a rush on them as she can.”

Julia nods. She turns to me, “I think we're good?”

“How's your pain level, sir?”

“Sir?” I query, “Wow. I must look like shit. Duke is fine, please. I haven't started rapidly aging again, have I?”

“No,” Julia assures.

“Pain level, though?” Meers asks, again.

I shrug.

“Top him off,” Julia says.

“I'll send in the nurse,” the orderly nods and leaves.

“I told you they like you,” Julia says.

“Sir, though?” I query, shaking my head, “and what's with the 'top him off'? Trying to turn me into a drug addict?”

“You're in pain,” she says, “don't try to pull it over on me and this,” she waves at the bag, “is something that is okay with the doctor. It's what we've had you on this whole time. Well, as well as what we've been knocking you out with...” she ruffles her hand in my hair and then pulls the table closer on it's wheels, “Come on. Let's get some food in you, Boss,” she picks up the fork and cracks the shell on the pie to let some of the heat out, and then opens one of the bottles of water and brings it to my lips. I reach for the bottle but she puts my hand down, “Come on, now,” she says with a sly smile, “Just play like you're the Pirate King and I'm the Serving Wench.”

“Really?” I point out, “That's...that could...”

The nurse comes in then to adjust the pain medication and Julia stifles a giggle, “Did I interrupt something?”

“Just her being evil,” I answer.

The nurse laughs herself, and changes out the drip and makes some adjustments to things. She says she's working on getting the results back and will be in with them as soon as she can. Then she waves temporary farewell.

Julia gives me water and sips some herself, then she scoops up some of the pie, which turns out to be a chicken pot pie and carries it over to my mouth. I realize how hungry I am once I smell it, and am obedient to be fed a few bites, and drink the water, and eat some fries. She takes a few of those herself, teasing me with them before snatching them away to eat them, prompting me to kiss her for being an evil wench. The pirate/wench routine is tantalizing and frustrating because nothing can go further with it considering I'm full of tubes in certain places but if we can go home they'll have to take things out of me.

Despite having felt so hungry the pie is only half gone before my appetite dries up.

“It's okay,” Julia says. She's pensive though, and turns the fork over and over in the remains of the pie staring at it, "The day we went grocery shopping and I went home early...Garland Wuornos came by to talk to me."

I remember him stopping by the Cape a couple of times during the whole thing too. I have to think, but in the mean time I ask Julia, "Oh?"

"He asked me about you, how you were treating me. He asked me if I had any reason to believe you were on drugs, either illegal or misusing legal stuff. I said no. I didn't know back then, I didn't know until today. But he knew, didn't he?"

"Yeah...that morning you came up and he was leaving he was telling me he was glad I kept that shit away from you...I wasn't...happy with myself..." I find myself plucking at the blanket, "for being an...asshole drug addict around you at all..."

Julia shakes her head, “You weren't an asshole,” she assures me.

I snort in response to that, because I may have been high but I remember quite a lot of what I did.

“Well...not to me,” she continues with a slight grin.

“Yeah,” I point out, “If that guy in Valufoods was Nate...well...”

She gives an off hand wave, “It's Nathan.”

“But no,” I persist, “if he had been some of the other people I dealt with I could have put you in real danger which kinda brought shit home to me.”

She's quiet for a moment, “Duke...did I do alright, taking care of you? Was there anything I could have done better if...if I'd known...?"

I breathe out long and slow trying to think because how the hell would I know, “I don't know...I never got through myself before. ..not that I..." head-shake, "I wouldn't have been lying to you...I don't think I would have gotten through without you I'd have been diving through that dumpster...or trying, would have probably fallen off the gang plank and drowned."

"If you'd told me, I would have had to tell Garland and then he might have sided with Uncle Vince to keep me from seeing you. So...I'm glad I didn't know,” she takes a deep breath which has minxish overtones, “Besides, you weren't the only one keeping a secret back then."

"...I guess. He was very happy I had kept the shit away from you,” I say, my brain catching up then with what she's said. I look over at her. She's wearing a look on her face reminding me that I really want to know what this secret is, “and who what now?" back then I didn't know she was adopted, but I do now and her expression lends that this is something much more devilish, “Did you hatch from an egg?”

"When he dropped off the medicine for you, and you'd gone to hide in the bathroom,” more like had to rush there lest things explode all over the boat but okay, “and I had to drag you back? Your pants...stayed behind a little bit."

Oh, “So, you saw my..." suddenly I'm six and can only gesture towards my crotch, “back then?”

“And treasured the memory for years." She grins.

I can't help but laugh "You naughty wench -- no wonder you didn't want me to pay you," I put up my hands in a don't hit me gesture given I know full well, thanks to several heated arguments that is completely not the reason.

She blushes so red that it's fully adorable, "That's not why and you know it!"

“I know. I know,” I assure her, pulling her over to kiss her.

When the kiss breaks apart she's laughing too, "Can you imagine if my mom had ever found out that you gave me money after I saw your naughty bits?"

Thinking of the look on Eleanor's face is equally amusing, "Oh, man...I think that would have induced a brain embolism..."

"I'm glad you let me help you,” she says, her voice slightly smaller.

"I appreciate very much that you were willing; back then," I feel my voice catching and tears burning at the back of my eyes, "I didn't--I wasn't used to that at all. Every day you came back I was so surprised."

She leans close and hugs me. I kiss the top of her head, "I was afraid I was annoying you, that first day. But you put up with me crying on you, and then you..." a small laugh escapes her, "Couldn't keep me away with chains and wild tigers after that."

"You were never really annoying. Well..." I give a slight laugh now, "when you're being insufferably right about me being an idiot about something...but, no that was all me being too high for my own good." Insisting I was fine despite zoning out every ten-twenty minutes or so, snipping here and there. Yeah, I was great.

"If I'd known,” she says, “I wouldn't have let you go into town and risked being made to walk the plank for my mutiny."

I think about that for a moment, but imagining me who had just shot up and was in that nice smooth place where everything nasty and negative was just sliding away being confronted with something like that, “Yeah, I can't say how that would have gone. I would have been adamant I was fine, that I do know."

She snorts, "I know. How long were you...using...?"

I exhale through clenched teeth, "...that was July? New Orleans was...August...so almost a year."

She has an odd look for a moment and I realize she's possibly calculating something, "...and I never knew,” her tone becomes very stern then, "If you ever hide something like that from me again, I'm going to be very unhappy with you."

“I don't--” I start to say but then the nurse comes back in and she's holding a handful of papers.

Julia gets up to talk to her and I can tell I'm not going anywhere even before Julia turns back to me.

“I'm very sorry,” the nurse says to me.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Julia says, “We're definitely here tonight.”

I lean my head back against the pillow.

She sits back down next to me, “You can't,” she starts and then coughs, “Look at me,” I turn my head, and she's putting on a slightly muted version of the puppy eyes, “You can't tell me you're feeling anywhere near well. When Nathan and Audrey were here that was the first time you've cracked anything remotely jokey since you've been awake.”

I reach a hand to her cheek, “I'm sorry. I don't mean to scare you...”

She puts her hand on my hand, “It's not your fault. I know their visit and the air clearing just now has to have helped, but please stop talking about going home until we're told that everything is looking good in your system and you're actually feeling better not just trying to force yourself to feel better, okay? Now that I know what was going on before...I...just, please.”

“Okay,” I kiss her hand.

“Thank you,” she says, “Because worried your tiny girlfriend is.”

“I'm sorry,” I lean over to kiss her and she accepts the kiss, tongues tangling and I feel myself tingling which is both good and really, really, uncomfortable. I'm both disappointed and glad when we break apart.

“Don't be sorry,” she says, “I know you're stubborn, Boss. It's part of your charm,” then she points at me, “Remember what I said though. If you keep anything like that from me again.”

“What constitutes like that?” I ask her, “I mean...I'm not intending to go out and start using anything. The only addictive thing in my life is this damn Trouble and that's why I'm—I know I still get stupid and “I'm fine” it sometimes but—that got...drummed into me when I was a kid and it's hard to break, but that's why when I was more...”

“Sober?” she offers, “Sane? You are talking about the “take care of my dumb ass any way I have to” clause, right?”

“Yes,” I say, “That; but I don't want to be on anything, definitely not back on that and I don't want to be going around actually vampiring Troubled people, which I know you know. I'm just—I need to repeat that to myself right now.”

She takes hold of my hands which I was gesturing with and which are starting to shake, “Okay,” she says.

“Coming up, when we were getting to know each other there were a lot of things I didn't talk about because I didn't want to dump my shit on you. I especially didn't want to throw anything drugs wise on you. You didn't need anything remotely like that fucking up your life. I liked talking about the fun and good things that I had going on. I liked hearing about the things you had going on. Especially that summer it kept me plugging on to get and stay clean. I didn't want to be a fuck-up. I'd—I'd always told myself I wasn't going to be like my parents. It was Garland pointing that out to me that kicked the last nail in to things and made sure that I threw all the shit away. It's between you being here,” I pull one hand out of her grasp and put it to my chest. I know my voice is catching again. My emotions are all over the place, “without you through all this I don't know because...and—and wanting to actually be able to be a father to Jean that is keep--”

She's kissing me again, when we separate she brushes some of my hair away from my face and then kisses my nose, “It's okay. It is. I'm always going to be here for you. If you ever want to talk I'll be here to listen but you don't have to talk right now. If there's anything going on, let me help, you know I'll do everything I can to help you.”

“I know,” I nod.

She has her hand cupped round my chin, “but right now you should get some more rest if you're not going to eat any more of this,” she points to the pie.  

“Have you eaten lately?”

She looks as though I just caught her trying to sneak out of class, “...I'm pillaging your lunch.”

“Then I should stay awake until tiny hungry girlfriend has eaten. It's is my duty...” That way she will have to eat more than a few french fries here and there.

She picks the fork back up and begins to eat the remains of the pot pie.

“Good,” I tell her, “Thank you.”

She scrunches up her nose, “I may have picked up some bad habits while you were away.”

"So, it's a good thing I'm not going anywhere else then? I can get you back to good habits?"

“You missed six months of employee evaluations, Boss,” she says, “I'm going to need lots of supervision.”

“Well, it's a good thing that you're so lovely to look at then,” I tell her, leaning over to give her another kiss.

By the time the nurse comes back to check on me and set things up so I can potentially rest for the night Julia has finished the pie and is curled up against me.  

"Duke?" I hear, warily from her, "How--how are you doing?"

I can feel the pain coming in from my left leg though. I slide to the floor.

"I'll...be okay. Two--two more, right?" I wave in the direction of the other two women that were in the building when the one brought it down. One of them whose blood I took to get Audrey out. Pulsing...what? Julia...is she close enough the noise worried her? Press my wrist, alive and kicking, hopefully, kicking. I need to actually check my foot. I need to check my foot.

I can hear Audrey murmuring to people, noises of reassurance, comfort. Glad I was wearing boots today that's for sure. Maybe I won't check my foot--my hands are too shaky to mess with the boots. I carefully lean back against what passes for a wall now and close my eyes trying to will the spots away the warmth is futzy, and there are spots and fireworks.

Audrey comes and sits back by me on my left side, "Is your phone any use?"

"It's a nice work of modern art." I fumble for my pocket and flop it onto my leg. I'd checked it before: screen busted, picture all sand art, "I'm sure they're looking for us. Julia knows I'm alive." I wave my wrist.

"Hmmm..." she agrees, "Mine's trying to work..."

I sort of look at it but the light it's putting off is way too bright. I close my eyes again, and just focus on my breath.

"Duke," she says, "About the...thing I asked you to do."

"That is the last thing I want to talk to you about, again. I said my piece after what happened with swim coach Daphne. I thought we had an understanding now."

"I just..." she sighs, "The way you looked at me that night...and we're here, and I just remember and I...and then..."

"How did you expect me to look at you, Audrey?" I shake my head and man, was that the wrong thing to do. Do not throw up. Do not throw up. Do not throw up. I lean back again, resting one hand on the bent knee that doesn't belong to a messed up foot "I didn't talk to you then because if I did I would have said some God awful things I could never take back. It's probably best we don't talk about it now either."

"You're not well..." she realizes, "What--what's going on?"

I look to the side away from her. Other things I didn't want to get in to.

"You didn't come out on a Trouble hunt with the stomach flu or something...we would have noticed earlier," she shakes her head, "Julia would have probably tanned my hide."

"Your hide?" I manage a smirk, "She would have hit me over the head and chained me in the hold."

Audrey laughs. It ricochets through my head.

"No," I tell her, "No. It...it just took a lot of Troubled blood to pull all those beams up off you and--and now I'm crashing. The boost doesn't last that long..."

There's a slight gasp from her then. I wonder what connections her special agent brain just made.

"It'll pass...it's not like we have a marathon to run," I point out.

"Hmmm," she says, cautiously. I hear her shifting position, and feel more than anything her reaching towards me, but I bat her hand away.

"Stop it. Check on trapped people. They're the ones who might be dying. Keep them talking do your magic Trouble whisperer thing."

She mutters something at me but gets up and leaves me alone. I can hear her shifting things around, small things, the scraping of stone, clapping hands, probably cleaning dust off for all the good that'll do in here. There's sound and vibrating coming through from outside now which is somewhat comforting. I can hear her talking again, and a slight raspy voice.

My throat is getting very dry, and I'm starting to feel cold and shivery. Always such fun. If you hadn't taken the extra that thing would have fallen on her I remind myself. It was precarious, and sharp, and would have stabbed right through her.

Audrey comes back again and sits down, "I found a bottle of water," she says, "I gave them both a little bit. Do you want some?"

"Bless you," I tell her.

"I'll take that as a yes."

She hands it to me, but I drop it—hands shaking and sweaty now as the chills give way to overheating. There's a look that passes between us now where I realize we're going to wind up talking about the things but I also realize that she has a bit more understanding of the additional depth of shit she dropped me into. She cautiously picks up the water and carefully pours some in my mouth.

"You're really warm," she says.

"I had no idea," I mutter, after I swallow the water.

"Does--does this happen every time?"

"No. I just...like I said, several "doses" to get you out. Not had to do something like that before. "Normally" it's just a little bit of shakiness afterwards, like--like you've a run a long race and really need to eat..." that sounds safe.

"Why do you say "normally" like that?"

I roll my eyes. There goes that dizziness again. Well done, Crocker. Do not throw up. Do not throw--shit. I wipe my mouth with my hand. Audrey gives me more water. Swill and spit. Then more so I have some in my stomach again. I pull myself up carefully and Audrey helps me move to a different part of the "cave" that the building has become. We're closer to the other people now. I can hear the one girl, Madeline's, whistling breathing, but there was no way I could risk getting her out. I couldn't see where everything was like with Audrey, and with the way her breathing sounded I figure something is punctured and given I couldn't see anything from above going down into her if I tried to pull her out all silver high I'd likely tear her in half with whatever was sticking into her from underneath. She could whisper to me a little that it was okay, she understood, and to try for the others. It's her fault anyway, she pointed out, which, I mean, it is. She is the one who brought the damn building down. At least half-conscious she hopefully won't bring it down the rest of the way.

The other, Carrie, I dug out her face because that was easy enough, but most of the rest of her...is thoroughly stuck. She said one arm was pinned underneath her, and she couldn't move her legs at all, and she could feel something stuck in her side, best not to play around with things. Audrey and I were lucky to not be so close to Madeline, as her, I guess.

I slide down again. There's a mumble from Carrie as I do so.

"It's all okay," Audrey says and then louder, "You still with us Madeline?" No response, "Madeline?" She gets up and walks over there, "Madeline?" she says, softer.

"You okay?" I hear from Carrie, "Sounded like puking."

"Too much partying."

She snorts and then says ouch, "Rude. Keeping all the booze to yourself."

"Well, you have holes in you. It'd be a waste of booze. Come by The Gull once you're patched up and I'll make it up to you."

"I will hold you to that," she says, waving her one free hand around for a moment before I make out a thumbs up sign in the low light and blurriness my vision is on and off.

"I expect so." I massage my temples and lean my head forward. I must groan.

"If you're going to puke again, party boy. Go back to the other corner," she says, weakly as Audrey comes back.

"How is she?" I ask.

"Still with us," Audrey answers, "Wanting to know how long it's going to be, but not wanting me to stay over there with her until we're out. You were going to tell me something..." Audrey points out, "before..."

"Which before?" I counter with a smirk.

"The "normally" before."

"That is probably the safer one," I agree, shifting my position, "This is not a very comfortable room, you know? I'm going to complain to management."

"Good luck," Carrie mutters, "I've been ringing for room service for ages, and no one's arrived."

"Duke," Audrey says, with that tone.

"Oh, forgive me," I retort, anger coming in with the shakes and headache, but also meaning I no longer give a shit that Carrie is right there, "I didn't know we were on a schedule. I said "normally"" I drag out the "normally" for a bit, "because I've hit the Troubled blood all of a dozen times? maybe? I'm not counting." Bull shit, "but when it's just for that that's pretty much all that happens, strength shift for all of half a minute and then jitters or whatever. I'm sure there's other ways things could go but I'm not going to experiment, would you?"

She shakes her head, "No, I suppose not."

"Damn right. That's how we wind up..." not going there, "bad places." I settle, shifting position again. Stupid leg. I want to be up. I need to be out of here. If I could just. It wouldn't take much. It wouldn't. I could just...fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I beat my hands against the wall.

"Duke?"

"I'm alright. Just...maybe we should, maybe we should keep talking. Distraction...distraction is good." Fuck.

"Okaay," Audrey says. I can feel her eyes on me even though mine are closed. She sits down and slides across the floor, scraping her way through my temples, "Sorry," she says, quietly, "Do you want some more water? Either of you?"

"No," I mutter. Water is the last thing I want.

Carrie declines more politely.

"You're the one who wanted to talk," Audrey points out, "What do you want to talk about?"

"Wow," I turn my eyes on her, "Way to be supportive." I know that it's wrong if I go over there and take some of that blood it will not get us out of here at all, it will not last long enough. It won't. It's not worth it. I press my fingers into my wrist tightly over the top of the tattoo that links me to Julia.

"I'm sorry," she says, "but I know what I want to ask you about, and it's probably not what you want to talk about and my brain is circling on it..."

"Don't mind me," Carrie says, "You've got me intrigued now. I'm only half aware of who you guys are...is this some love triangle drama? Let me live through you I may die soon."

"No, you won't." I tell her, "You want to drink The Gull out of booze."

"Oh, right," she says, "Can't do that if I'm dead."

"You never know with this town," Audrey points out.

"That's the last thing I need is ghosts raiding the bar," I mutter, "One dead ghost shows up then they all do," not that the grave digger is still with us. No thinking about that right now either, because death blood...that, "What the fuck did you want to ask me?" I snap at Audrey.

"It--it's not asking," Audrey says, as Carrie whistles cautious and warning, "It's talking. I know what your family's Trouble has been used for in the past, and I know...what Jordan has been after, why you want your brother to leave town..."

I snort, "Do you? Do you really?"

"Explain it to me then..." she says, "See, this is why I wanted to talk about it, though you're..."

"Ugh," my neck crackles as I roll my head, and I feel the pulsing behind my eyes and in my ears, at least my hands have stopped shaking, but I know I'm sweaty still, and she's right over there. I can smell the blood. I will not have it.

"...not in the best frame of mind right now."

"No shit," Carrie says, "You were fine two minutes ago. Coming off a high or something?"

I feel those chills again, and her question is just so innocent and innocuous that I can't help but laugh like a crazy person.

"This is why Audrey," I snap, "This is why Troubled people have such an issue with Crockers. It's not just that they hunt Troubled it's because of Crockers like my father who got so, so crazed for the blood that they..." I can't find the words, "...when his ghost was talking to me I swear he thought he had some Divine Mandate to kill them, but he was just a fiend--a-fiending for another hit of Troubled blood and using it as an excuse, because," I realize I've reached over and grabbed her. Our faces very close together, "if you think it's good before then when you kill someone and “cure” them...well, then...then," she pushes me carefully back away from her, "Sorry," I tell her, "Sorry, but then, then it's like floating with angels and kissing the stars."

She looks like I just kicked a whole field of puppies in front of her while telling her the tooth fairy wasn't real and Santa was the creepy pedophile next door. We're both going to feel like shit in the morning.

"I'm sorry, Duke," she says, miserably, "I had no idea."

"How could you?" I mutter.

"When Julia said before..."

I move only my eyelids slightly open and look at her, "When Julia said what before?"

I can feel Julia's pulse on my wrist, urging me to hold on. They must be close. Please let them be close.

"After," she says, cautiously, "after the organ harvester Julia came to talk to me. She was angry."

I can't help but smile at that. I remember somewhere through the dark clouds a comment about how she would have punched Audrey if it were her Audrey had come to see in the bar, "Oh? Was she?"

"She wanted to make sure we'd exhaust every option before we asked you to kill someone again..."

"Make sense to you now does it?"

"Why didn't you say?" she asks, reaching for my hand. I pull it away.

"I didn't see the point. It'd just come across as me making excuses and whining about my poor destiny. Then there's Nathan who seemed to think I was ready to turning into a crazed killer at a moment's notice no matter what I said

"Well, Nathan was being an idiot,” she cuts in.

“...you were the one who..."

“...asked you."

"No, Audrey you didn't. You didn't ask. You wheedled and pulled at the heart strings and showed me pictures and all of that. I could have said about this reaction but I didn't know that then. You could have said about that though because you knew when you called me to come help you look for those people that you were going to ask me to kill him. You knew."

"I thought I might."

"Fine. Fine. You knew there was a chance then. We'd had that talk just before about you and the barn and me and the family legacy." I shake my head. Need to stop doing that, "Jinxed myself to hell there."

"You're not going to hell."

"You know what I meant. You could have just told me what the Trouble was doing, straight up. I was putting things together. Realizing that it..." I look down, "Realizing it was probably necessary, but the way you did that. That was manipulative bullshit, Audrey. Pure and simple. There are people I've known for longer and cut out of my life for that."

She gets a look.

"What?" I ask her.

"That's the point in the story where most people say I've killed for less."

"Yeah, well. Contrary to popular belief. I'm not a killer. Just like I haven't slept with every woman in town. I'm not unfaithful to a partner when I've made a commitment. I can't say I'm not a liar or a cheat or a thief because..." I shrug, "You know the score there."

She sits and toys with thread left on part of her jacket that's torn, "Yeah..." she says, after a while, "...you know it was for the best, though."

"I don't need to hear that from you." It's another snapping retort and she recoils, "But I know it. Those children who would have died from the Trouble or...started killing other people."

"It's out of the blood line now," she says, "and won't be back."

"Right...but also unnecessary," She wasn't back yet when Julia railed on the others about what could happen after that evil blood, not going to get into that in front of these two this is bad enough, "Is there still water?" I ask her.

She nods.

My hands aren't so shaky so I drink some myself. Audrey gets up and offers some to Carrie, and goes to check on Madeline.

"I was hoping for a love triangle," Carrie remarks, "This is just terri—depressing."

"I'm sorry," I tell her, "If you'd met us on any other day there'd be any amount of people trying to convince you that I was after jumping her bones..."

"Why would they think that?" Carrie mutters.

"Normally I'm a lot more funny and charming."

"That's true," Audrey says, walking back over, "Normally he is," she gives me a hesitant smile, "but that's not your fault. Are you okay to move? Madeline wants to talk to you."

"To me?" I have a sinking feeling, "Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe she does remember you being funny and charming?"

"Hmmm," I brace myself against the wall and pull myself up. Somehow I don't think anything like that is it. I have that same sinking feeling I had the longer the day of the Organ Harvester went along. We were just talking about all that mess, and there's a Troubled woman, trapped in a collapsed building--that she caused. If she wants me to be her easy way out--

My legs are shaky, but as long as I don't put too much weight on my left side I can get over there. I give Carrie a hand shake as I go by. She catches me with a fist bump on the release of the hands.

"Knock, knock," I muster, coming to the edge of the place that Madeline's stuck in. I have to duck my head inside the tunnel type area made by the rubble. Good thing I'm not claustrophobic. I can hear Carrie and Audrey talking pretty clearly from where I'm positioned now, about Audrey and Nathan. Carrie is asking pointed questions trying to wheedle information out of her. Audrey is spinning details to her that are horribly rendered but are at least keeping her happy.

Madeline's breathing is still whistly and shallow, but her eyes flicker open when I talk, "Hey," she says, softly, "I'm an ass."

"Okay?" I shift carefully down so that I'm resting on my arms more and can take more weight off my left leg.

"I'm about to ask you something really, really horrible."

"You want me to kill you?"

"How did you guess?" she asks, quietly.

"That's pretty much the thing that I get asked lately. I miss when people asked me to help them move, or loan them my truck.”

"I'm sorry," she says, closing her eyes. I think she's trying to turn away but she really can't move her head, "I just...I heard--I heard what you and Officer Parker were talking about, about how it kills the Trouble for--for everyone in--in your family."

I reach to brush her forehead the matted hair and some of the dust away from her face so that she's not struggling so much with blinking her eyes, "It does. Are you worried about your children?"

She gives a slightly sarcastic snort, "I don't have children. Everyone was always on at me about when was I going to settle down and have children. Have you never just not found the right man, Madeline?" She coughs a few times, and I can feel that pain in my own chest as she winces, and the whistling is a little louder for a moment.

"Not everyone wants children."

"Or men," she chuckles, "but my sisters and my brother they all have kids and I...I don't want any of them to wind up doing things like this. My one niece--she already has a temper...and I wasn't--I wasn't..." she starts crying and there's a slight rumbling.

"It's okay, shush," I brush her head, "It's okay."

"Duke?" Audrey's by my side, "What's going on?"

"It's okay," I tell Madeline, tasting her blood on the air, I could just... "Just--just let me wait a little bit, alright." I start to pull out of the "tunnel".

"Promise," Madeline whispers, as the shaking slows.

I still have my hand slightly on her forehead and I hesitate. My chest tying itself in knots, "I...promise." I tap twice on her forehead and back out and find myself face to face with Audrey as I lean against the wall the shaking starting again from the closeness, the need...

"What's going on?" she asks, searching my face carefully.

"I...just...promised to...kill her," I whisper.

Audrey tugs on my arm and I limp a few steps to the other side of our prison. I can hear a rumbling but this is different. This isn't the shaking that was going on when Madeline was freaking out. This is the vehicles outside again, like when I was first Army crawling myself out from my brief prison and wondering if Dwight would be laughing his ass off at me for my poor form and posture.

"After what you were just saying to me..." she says, "And the shape you're in--is--is it going to be okay?"

That's something. I'm never quite sure what to expect with her and Nathan any more, and everything's getting jumbled in my head again right now as those parts of my brain are threatening to dive right in to the tunnel like a crazed vampire. I look down at my wrist, and press for Julia, hopefully close. Things do sound like they're moving outside and not from all around us, dangerously, not from Madeline's Trouble.

"Everything okay, guys?" Carrie asks, "Did everyone leave and forget about me?"

"No, no, we're still here. No worries," Audrey answers. She rubs a hand on my arm.

I feel Julia's answering pulse, and hold my hand to my wrist gratefully and exhale. Audrey looks so very nervous, "Explain," she says.

"They're close. They're digging us out. Julia...and probably some of the Guard must be there with paramedics...I hope. Julia has--has things, anyway. I...if I wait..."

"Until they're close. She can knock you out?" Audrey finishes.

I nod.

"Good," she says, "because that was getting scary before, and what you were saying about when your...anyway...I have to imagine with everything...you're not going to be feeling good for very long."

I pull a rueful smile, "Who knows? Maybe I'll be off with the fairies."

"You really want Julia to kill me?" Audrey asks, "I have a feeling she would make me suffer for putting you through this."

"She keeps that stuff for play time." I give Audrey a wink, "but she might dust it off for you if you ask nicely."

"You're trying to act like you're feeling better," Audrey counters. She's about to say something else, when a rattling from my left--her right startles us, a bright shaft of daylight, almost makes me hiss and several pieces of concrete tumble across the floor towards us. Now or never.

I limp back over to Madeline's tunnel.

"Was that a good clatter?" Carrie asks.

"I think so!" Audrey says, jubilantly, but she's following me.

"Audrey?" Sasquatch's voice.

"Why doesn't he just pull the wall down?" I joke, "Surely he's strong enough."

"I'll be sure and tell him you said that." Audrey answers, looking at me as I duck into Madeline.

"I was beginning to think--think you changed your mind," she whispers.

"I promised," I tell her, "Did you change yours?"

There's the slightest of head shakes, "No."

Well, there goes that, "Alright."

"Audrey?" I hear Dwight again.

"I'm here!" she shouts, "So is Duke! We're free and moving--he's hurt though..."

I can hear Dwight's voice and others relaying things around outside, and feel my tattoo pulsing with Julia's touch but I can't do anything about answering it right now.

"It's okay," I tell Madeline, "I'm sorry," as I push my hand, much as I did with Nix over her mouth and hold her nose, hopefully it'll be enough given she's whistling from somewhere...please.

I'm worried as I feel her jerk for a moment that in her panic she'll bring the building down on all of us, but then I feel the rush and heat coming through my hand and I know I can let go, "I'm sorry." The warmth is taking over my whole body--so much better than before.

"We've got another woman, Carrie! She's trapped under the rubble! But Madeline she--" she looks over at me as I'm sliding down the wall by the tunnel, "she's trapped too and she's not answering us any more."

There's a loud thumping from the left and the sound of things sprinkling on the floor, but I can feel myself both sinking and floating, and Audrey nearby in a halo of light. This is so wonder...no, this is not good despite that floating warmth that makes me not care about anything. I need to be up, not down, am I up? There is glitter, glimmering through the air all around us...

"Duke..." the glitter ripples with the words, shifting, changing colors, "Duke."

I need to get up. I can't reach. Someone has hold of me...Audrey coming out of the light again, "There we go," she says, "They're almost through. How are you feeling?"

"With my hands," I tell her. I reach for her, “You're very shiny.”

"Let's get you up."

"I'm not up? Okay. That part was right then."

Audrey has one hand in my arm pit. I push against the wall with the other. It takes a couple of tries. The wall feels spongy and I keep thinking my hand is going to sink into it, and then there's the fact that my one foot doesn't want to support me which is weird it doesn't feel like anything is wrong, but eventually I'm up and holding on to the wall and not--not falling on Audrey.

"Are you guys having all the fun without me, again?" Carrie asks as Audrey lets out a slight whoop, and then we're all coughing as more dust and rocks come through from the wall that's being cracked. I feel my chest aching as the dust and coughing continues and the want to not be so standing up any more. I keep leaning against the wall though. We'll be out soon, into the glittery air with the swirly people.

The large shoulder of Dwight busts through and I see Julia springing around him but then moving in a strange dance maneuver a few moments later, as I look towards them. Dwight standing stock still. The echoing of the concrete and brick still falling around. A pantomime act between Audrey and him, agitation.

Agitation. Innovation. Escalation. Rhyming words are awesome.

This is better outside. They have their colors, but the sky...I can feel the sun trying to reach through at us flickering through the glitter, licking with the tongue and catching in my throat.

Coughing, draws me out again and with it brings back the noise, rattling, cranking, banging, so much. It's going away. They're beating at the side of my head and my leg...the floor.

"I don't care. I'm going up there with you," Sasquatch sounds so loud, “It might not be safe.”

My wrist thrums with warmth gently as I hear gentle tread and heavier tread too.

Buzz of radio, "Medics can come in now, two sets. We need assessment on the best way to retrieve a trapped woman, and we have an injured man. Move quickly and cautiously people."

I feel Julia's hands on mine and then on my face, and then kissing me, my mouth, my cheeks, my forehead and my mouth again. Relief pouring from her, I can feel it. But my whole body is aching now, and I can feel twitches in my arms and legs. My left foot burning. Julia's hand feels so cold as keeps hold of mine as they put me on a stretcher and wheel me and then lift it and wheel some more towards the ambulance. I still partly feel like I'm floating. Julia has to let go of my hand for a moment as I'm loaded in. Then she climbs in after. The stomach churning portion of things has started again which is always fun.

A paramedic starts to step in to the ambulance and then hesitates, "Crocker."

"Is there going to be a problem?" Julia demands, putting her purse down by my side, "Other than extra blood related precautions?"

The paramedic takes a step back from the ambulance. I think he might be shaking his head but my own is starting to spin. I reach a hand up towards it and it's shaking.

"Hey, dickhead!" Julia snaps, "Did you swear to "serve unselfishly and continuously in order to help make a better world for all mankind" or only to serve unselfishly as long as it's not "that Crocker boy"?"

I hear the paramedic say something.

"Do you know what happens if the Crocker Trouble dies out?" she continues loudly, a speech I've heard before, with the bad blood, the memory makes me shudder. I don't want to throw up. I don't want to throw up, "All the Troubles sealed within the bloodline--every single trouble any Crocker has wiped out comes back and will go hunting for it's next of kin!" her voice lowers to a less head-splitting volume, "besides, I've got drugs in here that are approved to help," she moves the purse against my leg, "all you have to do is make sure he doesn't die on the way to the hospital." I lean back, closing my eyes against the spinning and the nausea. It's not doing much good though.

She must have shamed him because I feel the shift in weight as he clambers aboard and someone else does too.

"Everything alright?" a voice asks.

"Should be." Julia says, brightly, "Right?" she adds with different tone. I feel her hand in my hair.

"Yes," a different voice, prejudiced one maybe, "You said something about drugs? What are you intending to do? We need to examine him..."

I feel my foot being moved around and can't help but moan, and the twitch that happens doesn't help.

I hear Julia explains to them something we've done about the crashes which happen after the silver highs. They must agree that it's okay because I feel the jab as she gives me the medication. There's still some dry heaving and pain from my chest. I'm starting to fade as they're pulling my jacket and shirt off. I hear some mention of bruising as things start to completely go dark.  

We're sitting round a table in the The Gull: Audrey, Nathan, Julia and me. Cards were shuffled the intent had been poker but they were never dealt. A half eaten plate of wings is still being picked at though.

“I can't imagine,” Audrey says, “Not having your children for that long of the year they're just out to sea like that. No way of getting in touch.”

This promises to be a fun time if I can't find a new topic. I drain what remains of my beer and try to drag my thoughts away from where the Hell Jean could be right now and who the Hell even has her. It's not like it would do me any good being her father for all of the half a day it'd take before I crumbled to dust, but—if I could at least see where she was, know what was going on with her—I need another beer.

“Anyone else want another?” I ask the table, standing up.

Nathan raises his hand. Audrey shakes her beer experimentally and decides no.

“I can get them,” Julia offers.

“I'm up, already.”

I grab two from the bar and have Kerry behind it note it and come back to the table handing one off to Nathan. Thankfully they're now on Chris Brody and Nathan is the one looking uncomfortable.

“I'm not the only one who came over all man crush,” Nathan points out as I sit down.

“Spreading the love of waffles is a civic duty I take most seriously,” I counter, “Your vile pancake propaganda must be stopped.” Not that pancakes are that terrible but this is not the point right now.

“Aren't they fairly similar when it comes down to it?” Audrey inquires.

“Oh, no,” Julia murmurs.

“Get out of my bar,” I instruct her, pointing towards the door as dramatically as I can, “Officer Agent Parker: You are banned.”

“Seriously?” she asks.

“Apologize,” Julia hisses, urgently, “Save yourself.”

Nathan might actually be cracking a smile.

“Duke, I am truly, sorry,” Audrey says, putting her hand on her heart earnestly, “Please educate this poor soul.”

“Alright,” I say, magnanimously, leaning back in my seat, “You can be forgiven because there are a few ingredients that are the same but seriously those ingredients are also in cake itself and even pie crust so really, Audrey, really?”

“It's not like I cook all that much,” she says.

“It's the ratios primarily,” I explain, “But then to get a good light airy waffles as opposed to your stodgy pancake,” I give Nathan a look, “You separate your eggs and fluff up the whites before adding them back in.”

“I see,” Audrey says, though I'm not sure she does.

Julia just laughs. I get the feeling she has maple syrup on her mind again.

“Stodgy?” Nathan asks.

“Yes,” I say, “Pancakes are dense, thick, stodgy. Waffles are light and crisp.”

“I think we should stop there,” Audrey says, “Don't want to have the world's first bar fight over baked goods.”

“Duke,” Julia says in warning tone before I correct Audrey.

I let it drop, partly because there's something going on at the door. After a moment I can see it's Evi kicking up a fuss because Little Mike won't let her in. Finally she hands something off to him and stalks off. Little Mike brings me the thing, which turns out to be an envelope. I tear it open, pull out the contents and then write on the envelope a note to Kerry that he gets two free drinks as a thank you.

“I've had the psycho ex before,” he says, “You sure you want to read that—might be written in blood.”

“Morbid curiosity,” I say with a grin, “Besides I have cops right here.”

It's two sheets of paper. The first is a note from Evi, saying that she went ahead and got into the Rev's office because it was important even if I couldn't see it and just knows I'll be thanking her after I read it.

We'll see.

The other paper is a list. It looks like a photocopy, something that was clearly added to overtime sometimes typed, sometimes handwritten by a couple of different people, most of it is between '81 and '83 but at the very bottom in the right hand column there are a few recent additions whose names I recognize.

“People Killed by The Cursed” is the title. About halfway down the first column Evi has drawn an arrow and written “see” pointing to the name SIMON CROCKER with the date May 1983. When I scoff laugh the table turns to look and inquire exactly what's going on. I double check the names though, the recent ones are people who have died during issues with Trouble fighting. James Lester, who died right before Audrey arrived, Phil Reiser who I remember all too well given his fate could have been mine too. But then there are ones like Darlene Lewis, Johnathan Masters from the 80s and I have no idea who they are.

“What is it?” Julia asks.

“I'm guessing it's supposed to insight me to riot or something,” I drop the paper on the table, “Grand revelations that my Dad pissed someone off enough that they offed him, supposedly; because I immediately trust information that came from the Rev via Evi.”

Nathan reaches for the paper, for a moment I debate snatching it back but whatever. He looks it over, “Ah, yes, I forgot that I'm Cursed. Well, we know Lester and, uh, Reiser,” he looks at me sideways for a moment, “were...”

“But that's classic con, Nate, put just enough true information on something that the rest which might be true is easier to believe.”

Julia rubs her foot along my calf.

Audrey reaches over and takes the list from Nathan, “Well, we can look into these others easily enough, and surely there's a cause of death on your Dad's certificate.”

“Accident on boat,” I tell her. Of course that would mean he was damn clumsy on boats the entire time he was doing work given the state he generally came home in. I shake my head, “but what they tell kids and what actually happens...so that might not be what's actually on there. I've not gone back and looked.”

“You don't sound like you believe it.”

“I lived with the guy,” I wave a hand, “One thing he was good at was boats, but he was not good with people. If some Troubled person did kill him I'm sure he deserved it.”

“Duke,” Julia says.

“And what the Hell point is there in them giving me that,” I wave at the paper in Audrey's hand, “Are they figuring I'm going to go on some rampage about it? He's dead and gone and it's damn good riddance.”

Nathan gives me an eye.
“If your Dad was still here he could tell you some things. I swear some times he was up at our place once a week,” I drain the beer, “Anyway, enough of that bull shit,” I lean slightly forward and drum my hands on the table top a couple of times, “If we're not actually going to play poker I'm going to turn in.”

“Can I keep this?” Audrey asks.

“Have at it,” I tell her, moving away from the table towards the door, “I'd probably just light it on fire or...do something else with it.”

“I better go make sure he doesn't fall off the dock and drown,” I hear Julia behind me and wait just on the other side of the door away from line of sight until she catches up.

She links arms with me which is good in more than one way because I realize after I stood up that I was getting kind of dizzy; drank that last beer a little too fast and we walk the short distance back to the Cape.

$$$$ 

"That is an interesting...woman," Julia says, as I climb back aboard. She takes the bag from me and I pop my back.

"Oh?" I say, "and no one else has shown up looking for me? Of the female persuasion?"

"Should they?" she asks, with an inquiring eyebrow raised.

"No. God no! I just...I half keep hoping she's some Trouble manifestation...I guess not though. I guess she's the real thing."

"Your real wife?" Julia looks amused, walking ahead of me to stash the money.

I almost fall over, "My...wife?" the word catches and I choke-laugh, "Oh, wow. No, I just meant really here in person making things difficult."

Julia has a bemused look, "No, I mean, she actually tried to tell me she was your wife and so I should let her aboard."

"Maybe a couple of times to pull jobs as cover. I don't think we ever, that I was ever drunk enough to sign anything..." I genuinely have to think, "besides if something like that had ever come up in anything. Nathan would have been blasting my ass with it long before now." I scratch both sides of my head, "If she has something to do with this box bullshit."

"She does know some things about the Cape." Julia teases.

"Well, she would," I admit, "We were together for a few years, Evi and I. You know how long the old girl and I have been together."

"You shouldn't call her old," Julia says, "She's just seasoned, well-traveled."

"And soon to be good as new." I check over the sheeting that I was cutting earlier. There's probably not going to be enough daylight to finish up with everything else that's gone on today, "Though this is going to have to wait until tomorrow to finish up."

"I'll check the patch," Julia offers, "But I should say it's got a good four days left in it," she disappears further below.

I'm startled by my phone ringing.

Karl agitated on the other line, "You're a slimy one."

"That's not very creative of you. I'm disappointed."