11/27/10

In Need

Outside, Erik and Kyle, now by the car, wait. "How'd he look?" Kyle questions.

"Not good." Erik leans back on the hood. "I didn't want to push him so I didn't get a close look, but... I'd say it's the worst it's been."

"Like... need a hospital bad?"

"We'll need Karla to convince him to let us take him to the ER but I would feel better if we did, just to make sure he's okay. The cabin is a shambles... I think he got more than a couple punches to the face and... just speculation, but I doubt he's eaten in over a day."

Kyle shakes his head slowly, unable to believe a father who would do that to his own son... multiple times. At the same time, it was hard to believe how Kip fell for it every time as well. "I'll call Alice," he volunteers. "At least she can let the others know we found him."


Kip hears footsteps again but doesn't look up. Whoever it was, he'd just tell them to go away. He'd recover on his own and leave when he wanted to, not when Erik wanted. Feeling the bed shift, he still doesn't move. Not until he hears Karla's voice.

He hadn't expected her to be there, and his one eye cracks open, his head rising slightly. As she scoots back and slips an arm around his shoulders, he felt his wall of stubbornness start to crack. Her words made it crack even more. Maybe he'd expected a reprimand or at least a gentle chide, but neither were there - not even from Erik, come to think of it.

Hesitating a moment, Kip finally leans a little to the side, his head falling to rest on Karla's shoulder. It hurt to move though, and something like a whimper slips out, his arms tightening around himself. For the longest time, he says nothing but simply sits, knowing that someone who wouldn't judge him was right here.

Eventually though, as the minutes drag on, he knows that he can't stay here like this forever. Something had to give. He either had to make the first move or have Erik come back in and force him to.

Sliding back just a little and shifting to face Karla, his gaze remains glued to the bed, unwilling to look up at her. Slowly, he draws back his hood, revealing the damage to his lip and cheeks, along with both black eyes - his right one that was swollen shut. He knew he looked like he'd been in the boxing ring. He'd tried his best to clean himself up in the bathroom but there were hardly any first aid supplies to begin with, and hurting all over didn't help.

Moving his arms back around his legs, his sleeve rides up to expose his swollen and bruised right wrist, though his wince and sharp intake of air gives away that he was hurt somewhere else as well. "I can't... can't move very much," he slurs. "It... it hurts." His voice cracks as sa tear runs down his cheek, proving the pain was much worse than his physical injuries.

"We had a fight," he manages to explain. "Just like... like everyone else knew." He swallows hard again and shivers a little, still cold. "I tried to... stand up for myself." Another tear trickles down his face before falling to his knee where it soaks into his jeans. "It didn't work."

"I just... want to stay here," he mumbles, his eyes still lowered. "I don't wanna see anyone or talk to... to anyone."


Being brought closer to Chuck, Susanne's cheeks flush but she doesn't back away. His palm on her cheek was rough yet so soft - it seemed an impossible combination. She grins at his comment about payment for the next meal, her eyes twinkling with challenge as if saying, we shall see who wins this one.

A kiss wasn't what she'd expected so when she feels his lips brush against hers so gently, she tenses but doesn't pull back until after he'd retreated. Blinking, her eyes delve into his, searching once more for his intentions. But all she found was simple pleasure - nothing to be frightened of, even if her heart was racing, her pulse pounding.

"Thank you too, Chuck." Her voice was but a whisper and she clears her throat, regaining composure. She lets her hand slip from his and backs up a step, nodding. "Goodnight."


"Ma?" Justin enters the house, slipping off his shoes as the shopping bags rustle in his hands. He'd seen a strange car in the driveway and that always put him a little on edge. "Ma, you here?" He'd let himself in as usual.

"In the kitchen!" Lydia calls.

Heading that way, Justin enters only to stop dead in his tracks. Locking eyes with the other man in the kitchen, his gaze is one of shock. "Jared."

His brother smiles and waves. "Hey, little brother."

Not only was Justin younger, but he was shorter and less broad as well - "little" brother seemed to fit but always irked him anyway. He lets it roll off his back though, and continues his route to set the grocery bags on the counter. "What are you doing here?" He was miserable the way it was, and had hoped for a simple, quiet supper with his mother where he could break the news to her that he and Rebecca were over.

"Well, hi to you too." Jared laughs and folds his arms. "I'm visiting my mother. What are you doing?"

"My job." Justin throws him a warning glance. "Didn't recognize the car. New?"

"Yep. Had it for a couple months."

"Saw Utah license plates."

"Oh, I didn't tell you I moved?"

"Uh... no." Justin retrieves the milk and moves to the refrigerator to put it away.

Lydia seems oblivious to the tension and clasps her hands happily. "My two boys together, here at the same time. This calls for celebration." She immediately moves to the cupboard to see what she had to cook with.

"No, Ma..." Justin continues to put away the fresh groceries, knowing where everything went. "I shouldn't stay. I've got-"

"Nonsense!" Lydia pulls down some canned tomato juice. "Jared's only here for one night. Your dogs can wait."

"Yeah, and so can my mail, yard, phone..." Justin really was not in the mood for any of this. It was bad enough that he was still trying to deal with all of yesterday - now he had this to deal with, too. "I really should go."

Jared snickers. "Those two dogs are still your life, huh? Man, you need a girl."

Justin shoots him a look that could kill. "At least I don't go chasing after three or four at a time."

Jared's smile fades at the insult. Even if it was true that he tended to go after more than one girl at a time, his brother had no right to say that. "At least I have a life," he retorts.

"Justin, did you pick up the celery?" Lydia interrupts, clueless about the spat.

"Yeah." Justin lets the other subject drop and fishes the celery out of one of the bags to hand it to her. As he puts away the rest of the groceries, his ire intensifies. Jared was standing there doing absolutely nothing. He came for one night and everybody rejoiced. Justin was here almost every day, making sure his mother was taken care of, doing her grocery shopping and making sure she had rides wherever she needed to go. But that was normal. Nothing special. He knew all it was was stupid jealousy, and tries stamp it out before it got out of hand. His mother was glad to see her other son - that was natural and she deserved to be happy about it.

"Justin, you look so pale." Lydia reaches up to cradle his face, tucking aside a stray strand of hair. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine, Ma." He'd been feeling a bit lethargic today after waking up dizzy and hoped he wasn't coming down with something, though he'd figured it was just stress.


"...so I'm on my way to Louisiana for that conference." Between mouthfuls of supper, Jared explains him showing up.

Justin sips his water, having barely touched his own meal. "How come you didn't fly?"

Jared grins, waving his fork as he talks. "Why not enjoy the trip if the company's gonna pay for it?"

Justin shouldn't have been surprised. "Ah. A nice joy ride and vacation on company time. Smart."

"I thought so." Jared grins and takes a last bite of food before scraping the remaining bits off his plate. "Mmm have I missed your cooking, Mom."

Lydia beams. "You can have more if you stay longer," she bribes.

Jared laughs. "The offer is quite enticing. I did leave earlier than planned..." He pauses in thought. "I could stick around tomorrow, but I'd have to leave right after supper."

"Oh, could you?" Lydia's eyes light up. "Then Justin can come back and we can-"

"I'm gonna be busy, Ma," Justin interrupts. "I'm sorry."

Lydia lifts a skeptical eyebrow. "You didn't say so yesterday."

"Well, plans change. I got things going on, you know that."

"Still spend your time chatting with the nutcases?" Jared questions.

Justin stares at him in disbelief. That was low, even for Jared. Setting his napkin aside, Justin stands and goes to kiss his mother on her cheek. "I need to go. The meal was great."

Lydia shows her disappointment. "So soon? I have dessert."

"Save me some. Enjoy the rest of your evening and if you need anything, call."

"Oh, I'll be fine." Her smile returns. "I'll have Jared here for the night so you don't have to worry."

"Of course." A new knot had formed in Justin's stomach.

Jared stands as well. "I'll walk you out."

Justin was perfectly capable on his own, but he doesn't argue. Heading to the door, he finds his sneakers and sits down to put them on. Jared leans against the wall with his arms folded. "Since I'm staying an extra day, thought I might visit Dad's grave while I'm here."

Justin bristles but only grunts in response.

Jared persists. "Want to join me, or... do you still avoid the cemetery?"

Justin's blood begins to boil and he ties his shoes tighter than they need to be. "I won't be offended if you go without me," he manages tersely.

Jared chuckles. "Yeah, okay. Sorry I brought it up. Sometimes I forget. I guess if I was in your position I might be the same way."

"My... position?" Justin stands up to face his brother, suspicion on his face.

"Sure." Jared shrugs. "With what happened and all. I mean, I'd feel guilty, too."

"Guilty?"

"Well the only reason I can remember when Dad died is because of your birthday. If it was me who'd taken the blame, I wouldn't want to visit his grave either."

Justin had known there was some bitterness there on his brother's part, but he thought Jared would have grown up by now and moved on. The last few times they'd seen each other, this had not come up, which said perhaps Jared's bitterness was growing. No matter the reason, he'd struck a cord and Justin was livid. "You arrogant fool," he hisses. "Be glad I have self-control right now or you'd be on the floor."

"Whoa..." Jared holds up his hands. "Big talk from the little man. I didn't mean to insult you there - I was just stating the facts. Don't go killing anyone else now."

Anyone else? It was the last straw. "Maybe I don't have as much control as I thought," Justin admits quite calmly - calmly enough that even Jared isn't prepared for the fist flying in his direction. Neither man had ever struck the other - not even as kids. But tonight, blood flew as hard knuckles met soft flesh. Jared's mouth is squarely hit and hard enough that he's thrown off balance and stumbles to the floor.

"Justin!" Lydia had not been seen by either man. She stands in the hall, her face pale and shocked. Hurrying to Jared and kneeling down to press a dishtowel to his bleeding mouth, she looks up at her second son, stunned by his actions. So stunned that she can't even ask why he had done this.

Overcome with anger and guilt, Justin backs away. If he'd wanted to disappoint his mother and make Jared look like a saint, he'd done a very good job. No intelligible words seem to form, so a silent stare is the only communication. Turning around, he exits the house and goes to his truck to leave.

Lydia is trembling as she tries to help Jared even while her wide eyes had followed her other son outside. "Out of character" would be the ultimate understatement, and even she recognized that. Justin never lashed out... never. Swallowing hard, she finally turns her complete attention to Jared. "Are you alright? Do you need a doctor?"

"No, I... I don't think so." Jared blinks and sits up, feeling his lower lip that was still bleeding. His teeth felt like they'd been whacked with a hammer and fingering one tooth along his lower jaw, it falls out into his palm.

"Good heavens." Lydia takes his arm to help him stand up. "Come. Rinse with water. You will have to go to a dentist now."

Jared follows her dumbly to the kitchen where he rinses and spits in the sink, eventually using a cotton swab to try and stop the bleeding in his mouth. Sitting at the kitchen table and being doctored by his mother, he allows it, silently stewing.

"Why did he hit you?" Lydia finally asks as she washes the dishes from supper.

"I don't know. He just flew off the handle."

"Well what did you say to him?"

"Nothing." Jared shrugs lamely. "I said something about him not wanting to be with family and he just slugged me. I don't think he likes spending time over here."

Lydia scrubs a plate, her face furrowed with worry. "Because he didn't want to come tomorrow?"

"Well... that, and..."

Lydia turns. "And what?"

"I wasn't going to say anything." Jared hesitates. "But well... he said he was tired of running errands all the time, like shopping and stuff. That's when I said he apparently didn't see that it was the family's job to stick together and that he obviously didn't want to spend time with you or me. Then he hauled off and hit me. I'm sorry... I guess it's my fault for antagonizing him."

Lydia wipes her hands on a towel and slowly joins him at the table, sinking down in another chair. "He... he never complains." Her eyes were clouded with concern. "If I ever thought he was unhappy, I would find someone else to help me. I do not want to burden him."

Jared shrugs. "Maybe you can hire someone to do your shopping and even help with your cleaning and stuff."

"Oh, but the money..."

"I'd help," he offers. "It's the least I could do."

"I could never ask-"

"You didn't. I'm offering," he states flatly. "I'm the one that lives too far away to visit every day. If it wasn't for my job, you know I'd be right here, spending as much time with you as I could. So since I can't, let me do this for you. Let me help with someone to run your errands, and then Justin will be free as well."

There was more than concern in Lydia's eyes now. There was confusion... and hurt. "If only I'd known..."

"Now... you can't think of it that way. I'm sure Justin loves you the same. Maybe he just got tired over time and didn't want to say anything. But you can't worry about it now. It's over. We can even start tomorrow looking for someone to help you."


Once home, Justin parks his truck but remains behind the wheel for the longest time, just staring out into the darkness. It had been a long time since someone's words had stung as deeply as Jared's had tonight. Unfortunately, Justin's reaction had been just what his brother had wanted. He'd been stupid, that was for sure, and more than likely, he'd have to explain to his mother soon what had happened as well. He'd have to soften it a bit so she didn't think too badly of Jared. Justin hated him right now, but there was no point in hurting his mother by making her see that her eldest son was a jerk.

Finally getting out of his truck, Justin wanders to the house and pats the two dogs on the way, but is less than enthusiastic, despite their wagging tails. It's not too long after that he's lying on his couch, not having made it to his bedroom. He was exhausted and not tired at the same time, keeping his mind wide awake. Unfortunately, Jared's words had brought on a flood of memories - memories that Justin did not like to face. He could tell anyone about the past... he'd moved on and worked through the death of his father. But down deep there was still numbing pain that he was very good at covering up. And the worst part was that he wanted to call Rebecca and tell her what happened so she could comfort him... and he couldn't even do that now. He wanted to talk to someone... to tell someone how he felt so he could get some of this weight off his shoulders. Beth crosses his mind, but he again resists. She didn't need to be concerned with his problems. He hadn't talked to her yesterday or today, but that was probably a good thing anyway.

He tries to sleep and forget, but the pain and guilt press down on him. He would tell anyone that he no longer believed his childish thoughts that the accident had been his fault. But maybe Jared was right. All in all, if it hadn't been for Justin's planned trip with his father, the accident would have been avoided. So really... if anyone needed to be blamed...

Justin scrunches his eyes shut tightly and turns over to slam his head down into a couch throw pillow. Sleep. That's all he needed. These emotions were unjustified. Pointless. Illogical. He knew good and well that the accident had not been his fault. It hadn't... it just hadn't......right?


...A loud clap of thunder rattles the house and makes Justin jump, waking him from his sleep. It takes him a moment to focus and realize that he was still on the living room couch. It had not been a good night - one of the worst in years with tossing, turning and dreams he'd rather have forgotten.

Sitting up, still a little dazed, he sees that it's already eight o'clock and he had no idea when the storm had rolled in. Lethargic and exhausted, he goes to the kitchen to find some apple juice. His stomach didn't feel all that great, and he felt warmer than he should, but he tries to ignore it. Once he'd been able to clean up a little bit and become more alert, he picks up the phone, mustering up the nerve to call his mother. Last night had not gone well at all, but he still owed it to her to check and make sure things were fine. He was supposed to have gone to the butcher for her today and he wanted her to know he'd still do that - he just needed her list. And somehow... he'd manage to avoid Jared when he went to the house.

After several rings, his mother picks up. "Hey, Ma... it's me." He chews on the inside of his lip, remembering the look on her face last night when he'd slugged his brother.

"Justin?" She sounded surprised.

"Yeah. Um... listen, I'm sorry about last night and... I wondered if you still had that list for the butcher. I was supposed to pick up some meat for you today."

"Oh..." Lydia hesitates. "Well, um... it's okay. I mean, it's going to be taken care of. You... you don't have to do those errands anymore. You need a break."

Justin blinks and he suddenly regrets drinking that glass of juice. "But... if this has to do with last night, I'm sorry. I was totally out of line and I'm more than willing to talk to you about it later. I'm fine with running your errands, you know that."


Lydia furrows her brow and looks to Jared who was standing next to her, able to hear what Justin was saying. He shakes his head and whispers to her. "He's just trying to manipulate you. Stop letting him do that."

She frowns and speaks to Justin again. "No, no... I understand, and you need your own time. It's time you didn't have to worry about these things."

Justin was stunned. What was going on? He knew she was upset he'd hit Jared, but why was she acting like this? "I don't mind," he tries again. "How about I just come later tonight at least, and we can talk?"


Lydia looks to Jared again, about to say yes on the phone, but he shakes his head with a warning glance. He speaks quietly again. "Remember what we talked about this morning? What if he gets mad again? What if it's you he decides to swing at? I don't want you hurt. He needs to back off for a while. He shouldn't be coming here if he's going to hurt people."

She swallows hard, her eyes full of sorrow. "I... I'm sorry, Justin. But you..."

When she has trouble saying it, Jared prompts her with a nod and more verbal encouragement. "Your safety comes first," he whispers hoarsely. "You know he's dangerous." He points to his still-swollen lip. "I won't stand for him being here when he's got a temper like that."

A tear rolls down Lydia's face and her voice trembles as she speaks to her younger son again. "You shouldn't come," she states bravely.

Jared points to his lip again with emphasis and Lydia musters up the strength to continue. "I don't want you to come. Not... not when you are so angry and you hurt people."


Something close to panic sets in and Justin runs a hand through his hair as he desperately racks his brain. "It won't happen again. Look, I was mad at Jared and I'm sorry. I'll wait until he's gone so there's no chance of another conflict, okay?"


Jared frowns and shakes his head. "It'll be you next time," he warns his mother.

Lydia's lower lip quivers and she closes her eyes. "Justin... stay away. Please. Do not come."


The fear in his mother's voice cuts Justin like a knife. "You're afraid of me," he states, shocked by the evident truth. "Ma, you know that I would never hurt you." Silence. "Right? You know that."


Lydia looks to Jared as another tear follows the first down her face. Her eyes asked him what to do. Reaching out, Jared takes the phone and while they can both still hear Justin talking, he hangs up. Lydia chokes on another tear and leans against her son as he wraps his arms around her in a hug. Resting her face on his chest, she cries, mourning the necessary rejection.

"You did the right thing," Jared assures. "I'm proud of you."


"I lost my temper with Jared, but that had nothing to do with you. I would never-" Click.

Justin cuts off his words as he realizes that his mother had just hung up on him. Never in all his years and even some spats they'd had, had she hung up on him. He stares at the phone numbly, too shocked to know how to feel.

Hanging up, he lowers himself onto the couch, completely stunned. His mother was afraid of him. And she had told him not to come back. His mother was half his life. He complained about her needs sometimes... and sometimes he complained about her unintentionally smothering him or getting involved in areas she shouldn't. But he loved her to no end and never would he even remotely consider harming her in any way, shape or form. How could she think that?

Looking down at his sore hand, he rubs over the knuckles that had struck his brother. One move... one stupid move and his world had suddenly flipped. If only he had held his temper. If only he had not allowed Jared to get to him. None of this would have happened. His own mother was afraid of him. And he was appalled.

Without warning, Justin's stomach lurches, reacting to the mounting stress. Standing quickly, he aims for the bathroom, making it just in time to throw up. Instantaneously, a splitting headache forms, pounding against his skull. Sinking down to the floor, Justin tries to get a grip, but it all seems too much to handle. He'd failed with Scott and therefore was out of that job and income from Brookshire. Rebecca had broken up with him. His friends really weren't friends at all. The memories and guilt surrounding his father's death were back. The rift between himself an his brother had grown wider. And now his mother had pushed him away out of fear. It was a living nightmare.

Another spasm causes him to throw up again and his body starts to shake. Being stressed out was not something he often did, so he calmly deducts that since he was trying to deal with everything all at once, this was probably a minor breakdown and he really needed to just settle down and think himself through it. He was perfectly capable if he could just sort through the logic and go with the flow. It shouldn't be hard. He walked other people through their problems all the time. Convincing himself of the same things should be a piece of cake.

Throwing up a third time, he wonders if his stomach even has anything left. Unfortunately, it did, and after several more retaliations from his stomach, he still sits on the floor, exhausted. Sweat trickles down the side of his face and his head hurts so badly he thinks he might pass out.

Trying to stand with the aid of the bathroom counter, his knees prove to be too weak and he slides to the floor again. Rain pelts against the window and he can hear the dogs barking their complaints. A loud roll of thunder makes him cringe. With heart still pounding, he crawls out of the bathroom, aiming for the kitchen to get something to drink. He was alert, knowing full well what was going on, able to think through everything and know what he needed to do to take care of himself. But his body just wasn't cooperating. With all of his stress bottled up inside, it had only been a matter of time before it took its toll.

Halfway to the kitchen, Justin stops as the room grows dark and his dizziness increases. He tries to shake it off, knowing that his body wanted to pass out. Fighting it for all he was worth, he crawls a little farther, but it's no use. Leaning against the wall and slowly sliding down until he was lying on the carpet, everything goes black...


...The phone is ringing. Answer the phone. Where is the phone? It's ringing.

Justin's eyes open and he stares into the dimly lit living room from where he was still lying at the edge of the hallway. He comes to just in time to hear his answering machine pick up and a bill collector's voice warn him about his electricity payment before hanging up.

Justin's mouth felt like cotton and he swallows hard. Bringing his wrist around, he checks his watch. He'd been unconscious for several hours. That wasn't good. If only his body were as functional as his mind right now, he'd be fine. He vaguely remembers being around someone a couple days ago who had come down with the a severe case of the flu. Maybe that's what some of this was - most likely it was stress with a bug on top of it, making for a deadly combination.

Getting back on his hands and knees, he finally makes it to the kitchen. Managing to retrieve the bottle of apple juice from the fridge, he sits on the tiled floor and drinks a little bit at a time, trying to rehydrate. Each time he lifted the carton to sip, his hands shook and he was amazed he didn't spill the juice all over the place. Come to think of it, he was shaking all over. Odd. Only now does he realize too, that he's covered in sweat.

Squinting up at the window over the sink, he sees it's still gloomy outside, but apparently the storm had passed. He didn't hear the dogs whining... they were probably on the porch and probably hungry. He needed to feed them. Trying to stand up though, he gives up. They could survive until later. For now, he would take up residence right here on the floor. Apparently that's where his body wanted to be.

Leaning back against the counter, he closes his eyes. What happened after that would later only be a blur. All Justin would remember would be fighting off memories, frustrations, guilt and fears. He would remember feeling as though he were in a dream, facing his father, facing his brother and mother, and even Rebecca. He was failing. He was a failure. He was guilty...


...Nine o'clock at night. Justin lies on the living room floor in front of the couch, not knowing how he got there. The kitchen behind him displayed a war zone. The bottle of apple juice had splattered sticky liquid everywhere. There was broken glass all over the floor and blood from a cut on Justin's hand that he would not remember how he received. The answering machine blinks with several messages but he'd never heard the phone ring. By now, the dogs had given up barking as he'd never heard them either.

Slowly opening his eyes, he glances around the living room. Lifting his head to figure out where he is, he then just lets it rest on the carpet again, too exhausted to move. He was drenched in sweat and his eyes burned. Apparently he'd been crying, but couldn't remember. His head still pounded and his stomach still felt weak. He knew he'd blacked out again and wasn't sure now if he should call Brookshire to come put him in their loony bin, or call 911. He couldn't call Rebecca... he couldn't call his mother. Beth... what about Beth...

He ached all over and was burning up, so he was pretty sure now he'd been right in his deduction of being sick along with having a nice little breakdown. But without the energy to rise anyway, it was a pointless conclusion. Maybe if he would just lie here a little longer, he'd get his strength back. Just... a little longer...

His eyes fall shut again.


Danitza wanders the street and whines, looking left, then right before sniffing the air and turning around to go the other way. Her paws patter on the moist pavement and she jumps out of the way as she's almost hit by a car, its horn honking. It was dark and the headlights were blinding. It had taken her all day, but she'd made it to the right area. After sensing something was not right, and not being able to rouse Justin, she'd broken loose from her chain and collar and had taken off, leaving Zora to lie on the porch, protecting their silent master.

Up on the sidewalk again, Danitza stops once, turns, then aims down an alleyway. Once on the other side, she sniffs around some more and finally finds things that seemed familiar. She stops at a parked car smells the tires and the driver's side door, then follows her nose to one of the many doors.

Sniffing around the crack at the bottom of the door and up near the knob, she whines and scratches at the door. Cocking her head to listen, she barks then scratches again. She remembered this door. She knew it was Beth's. Beth was safe. Justin liked Beth. This was the right place to be. She barks again, whines, paces, scratches and barks again, waiting on the dark doorstep.

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