Rating: PG

Summary: This is being written with the help (?) of a large canine. Who you gonna call when you got troubles? Answer: your big bro...even if he is an asshole...

Spoilers: Ain't got 'em here.
 

ALLY:

The kids-meaning Michael and Kelly-are in the living room.

11:30. Kelly has to be at Georgetown at 1:00.

I hope she can pull herself together, or she's not going to be able to do this.

I'd prefer it if Michael could stay with her while she's at work. I know he can't be with her, and that's fine, but if he could hang out until she's done, I think it would be helpful. It's going to make for a boring afternoon, but at this point, I think that's the least of his concerns.

Michael grew up today. He doesn't know it yet, but he did. I saw it all over him.

He was worried far more about her than about anything that would affect him.

He's on the sofa, one arm draped over her, and I can hear him murmuring just soft sounds to her, nonsense syllables, simply to soothe her.

She is lucky to have her.

I'm not particularly looking forward to this afternoon. I have a rather ugly task ahead of me.

My mission, and I have accepted it, is to talk to Kelly's mother.

I hate being an adult sometimes.
 

I ask Michael to come to the kitchen for a moment. He's reluctant to leave Kelly, but I motion him with the ASL sign for 'I need something,' which he does understand.

I ask him for directions to where Kelly's mother works. I need to talk to her mother, and I need to get her things.

I have made an executive decision, and it is that this girl does not go home again.

I know this is unfair. I haven't even told Langly what's going on, much less discussed taking another individual into our home, but at least for now, she's going to have a roof over her head in a safe place.

I'm not going to discuss it with Kelly. She doesn't get an opinion in this one.

Michael draws me a very precise map-Michael does pay attention to details, I'll give him that. If I get lost on this one, it's my own fucking fault.

I haven't dreaded an afternoon this much since Langly went into the hospital last year.

Michael finally gets her calm enough to function. He asks her if she wants some lunch, he offers to get her some food, but she's not hungry.

She can't keep that up for long. I'm nothing if not a Jewish mother.

You eat in my house. Or else.

If it weren't for the bruises and cuts on her face, which even Miranda's artful work can't totally conceal, Kelly would look stunning. She's a little taller than me, a little thinner, a perfect petite.

Well, she's not 45, either, and that certainly works in her favor. Gravity hasn't had time to work its magic on her.

She's dry-eyed and stone-faced by the time they're ready to leave. She asks him for the keys, but he shakes his head, says today he'll take her. She's not pleased about this, and she's ready to kick up a hissy, but she hasn't got the energy. He promises to wait for her and not be in the way.

He has no idea what the implications of that statement are, I think ruefully.

Her car is a little blue Mazda 323. I had one of those for about seven years, before I got my Sentra, which was before I had my Neon. And before that I had an Escort, and before that, a B210, and before that, a Gremlin, which was my first car.

A life measured in cars. If that's the case, I haven't progressed much. I'm still doing subcompacts.

I'll think about anything except for my upcoming encounter right now.

I need some advice.

Time to call out reinforcements.
 

MICHAEL:

Kelly doesn't say anything on the way to DC. Lots of people are still on vacation and it's midday, so the traffic's not too bad.

I should try to get her to eat something, but she's not hungry. I remember she likes good coffee.

We have time. There's a Starbucks near the Med Center at Georgetown, and I motion her to come on.

She doesn't say anything, but she follows me. I tell her to have a seat, I'll order.

I get her a vente Sumatran, cream only, and a vanilla mochaccino for me.

She looks at me like she's going to say something, but I can see her face screwing up again.

"Hey." I brush my finger against her cheek. She flinches a little-I must be hurting her-but when I draw back hard, she puts my hand on mine.

"Sorry. It's just really sore." She can barely talk. Jesus. "What time is it?"

"12:15. You've got some time."

She sips her coffee. "You remembered what I like."

"Yeah."

"What's yours?"

"Vanilla mochaccino." Wimpy.

But very tasty.

"How you feeling?"

She shrugs. "Okay. I guess. I have to. I have to start work in 45 minutes."

"You gonna be okay?"

She shrugs again. "Do I have a choice?"

I have no idea how I'm supposed to handle this.

I mean, I do bad enough in every day life.

I've made a lifestyle out of saying the wrong thing.

And I bet even if there's a guidebook for guys out there, it has no instructions on what to do if the lady you love has been...I can't say the word.

Such an ugly word. For such an ugly crime.

Against such a beautiful girl.

I want to cry myself.

Mostly, I want to kill Troy.

Where is my dad when I need him?
 

ALLY:

I've taken a shower, I've gotten dressed. I've gone through the motions.

Byers is at my kitchen table, and I'm relieved as hell to see him. Frohike and Jo enter in as I sit down.

"I have to see Kelly's mother." I can already feel a migraine coming on.

I need a drink. And it's not even 1:30 in the afternoon.

"I'll go with you," Byers offers.

This marginally reduces my anxiety.

"Thank you. Kelly's staying here, for now, anyway. She can't go back there. No way."

"I agree," Frohike concurs.

"I'd take her, but we're a little full up with Joan and Julie there," Jo says softly. "And I live rather far out from where she attends school and works. She's working at Georgetown, you said?"

"Insisted on going in."

Jo's sizing up this situation. "I've done some rape counseling...a lot of years doing ER nursing. Even so, and I'm not well-acquainted with the child, I'm not the person to do it. I do have a friend in DC, and she runs a walk-in center. I'd like to see Kelly get in touch with her. I can't force her to do it, but I would strongly suggest it."

"Have you discussed this with your husband?" Frohike asks me.

I shake my head. "Haven't even told him yet. I figured that when he's racing out the door after oversleeping was probably not the moment."

"Did you call him?" Byers asks.

"John, you know he lets everything go to voice mail. And he only picks it up here and there."

"Call his boss. You get along with Sheridan, don't you?"

"Yeah, Sheridan's cool. But I'd rather wait until he gets home. I already have one ugly encounter awaiting me. I'd rather do it over a beer than a phone conversation."

Frohike is thinking. "I think it's good that Byers goes with you. Juliet's at work?"

"She is. She's planning to take part of next week off so we can finish moving her into my place."

"What time does Kelly work till?" Frohike looks at me.

"Michael said six. God knows if she'll make it that long."

"He's with her?"

"I thought it'd be better if she didn't go herself today."

He nods silently. I'm not certain he agrees with this plan-I think he's every bit as worried about his son as he is about Kelly, and maybe even more so in some ways. But he's also an old-fashioned gentleman, and he's not about to argue with a bit of gallantry.

Byers stands up. "You ready?"

Not really. "Might as well get it over with."
 

MICHAEL:

I feel like hell.

Kelly's gone to work. I told her I'd be there by six.

That's still four hours away.

I probably shouldn't go far, but I need to get out for a while.

Langly works here in DC. But he's at the Pent, and the place is monstrous. And finding him could be real hard.

I've got four hours. And I need to talk to somebody.

Even if it is my ersatz big brother. (Another Casey word-how'm I doing here?)
 

DC's not a big place, and it's got an equally small number of parking places.

Should've probably taken the Metro, except that I have no idea how to use it, and that would just really clinch my afternoon, getting lost in the subway.

It's a long walk from where I finally snag a space-two hours, I'd better watch the time because I've been told that the meter maids are unusually aggressive in DC-and my lungs hurt.

Not half as much as my heart does.

There's an information center-the place is even bigger than I thought it was. Hell, it's even got its own Metro station.

Next time, I'll know. Parking just set me back 4 bucks. Can't be any worse on the Metro.

I ask how I can find somebody who works there. I know his name and he's a cryptographer. No, I have no idea what division. No, I don't know what building.

Fifteen minutes later, they find out where Langly is and where he works, and I can't go down, so he's got to come up.

I'm beginning to debate the wisdom of this idea after waiting another twenty minutes. I'm about to bail when Blonde Boy shouts at me from across the lobby.

"Hey, Junior!"

One thing about Langly: he's not subtle.

He's got his hair pulled back in a ponytail-a real one, thank God he dropped the drug lord look, at least for now.

Thanks to the miracle of modern contact lenses, I can see his expression change when he gets up closer to me.

I must look like shit, because he's got this look of total concern pulling his eyebrows together.

"Hey, Junior, you okay?"

"Would I be here if I was?" I'm trying to sound cool, but I'm not pulling this off too well.

I should NOT have come here.

Too late now.

"So what brings you out into the jungles of DC in the middle of the day, when you could be enjoying your school break?"

"Kelly started working at Georgetown today."

"You're not even in the right neighborhood."

"Langly, are you stupid or something? I dropped her off! She doesn't get off till six!"

"So you figured you'd come bother me in the middle of the day, figuring I'm on salary anyway?"

"Oh, forget it." I start to get up. This was definitely the wrong idea.

I get stopped by one of those long hands on my shoulder.

"Whoa. I know you didn't come here just to see my smiling face. What's going on? Your dad okay?" Now he looks worried.

"Yeah, Dad's okay."

"So what's up?"

"It's about Kelly."

"Oh, boy. Woman problems already?"

"It's not like that."

"So you wanna tell me about it?"

"Yeah. But not here. I better go."

"Hey, hold on. I just gotta tell Sheridan I got some personal business to take care of. And it's a little on the nippy side out there, I think I'd like my jacket. So can I trust you not to jump bail on this one, Junior?"

"I'll wait."
 

It dawns on me rather late that he has no idea what happened.

Ally didn't tell him shit.

Dad says he was asleep when they got there, and he had the hangover from hell and Ally didn't want to wake him up.

And she mustn't have said anything this morning.

Besides, if he knew, he wouldn't have been so cheerful when he first came
out.

I don't have to wait so long this time. He must know I really need someone to talk to, because he's getting tense. He's already working his nails by the time he's back to me.

"Where to, Junior?"

"I don't care. Just where we can be alone."
 

We're walking outside to nowhere in particular. It's real cold out-I hadn't even noticed before. But I'm having a hard time breathing, and when I do, it's like this wet grey cloud in front of my mouth that threatens to smother me.

"So what's going on, Junior?" Langly finally asks me. He's not looking at me.

"Kelly-you know the dude that bashed my face in, right?"

"Oh yeah. Mom's loverboy."

"Yeah, well, he did one worse by Kelly."

That stops him for a moment. "As in?"

"As in-well, I guess Kelly's mom was fighting with this guy, and Kelly's mom ran off, and she tried to run after her, and the boyfriend holds her back, and Kelly tries to fight him off, and she says to me that he tells her he's about had it with her attitude and he's gonna-"

"Have his way with her." Langly finishes off the sentence.

"Yeah." I can feel myself tearing up again.

Oh please, not now. I've already been through this with him, and so far I've been lucky. I'm not sure if it happens again, he'll ever let me off the hook.

So why am I telling him all this?

"How's she doing?"

"Okay, I guess. She looks kinda bad-he bashed her up pretty good. But she wanted to go and start her new job today."

"That's cool. She's tough that way, at least."

"And she cried the whole time we were together." I'm having a real hard time fighting back the tears now. "It's like she was okay when she got into work with her boss and stuff, but she's with me, and she just cries her heart out."

"Hey, maybe she feels like she can do that with you. That's okay. Wish Ally'd do it once in a while, instead of keeping it all down. She still won't talk about her mom."

"Kelly really didn't say anything to me. Ally told me most of it."

"How the hell does Ally know all this?"

"'Cause she was at your house last night. My dad brought her there. I was asleep and he took her to the hospital and all, and then he called your house and Ally says to bring her on over."

Langly looks at me skeptically. "You're telling me Ally knew all this shit and she hasn't said a fucking word to me."

"She says she was gonna wait until you got home. Says you had the hangover to end all hangovers yesterday and you overslept."

"Still. She coulda said SOMETHING." He looks pissed off for a moment, but then he fades back. "So Kelly's hanging together, at least physically."

"Yeah, but I have no idea what I'm supposed to say to her, what I'm supposed to do-about the only thing I'm sure of, dude, is that that bastard is going to pay."

"Whoa. Back up there, Junior. Let's stay on the subject here."

"I am."

"No, you're not. What's important here right now?"

"Kelly."

"Uh-huh. And think about it. What's gonna happen you try to do something to this jerk? Best case, he rearranges your face again, worst, he rearranges your body into something resembling a corpse."

Not an appetizing thought.

"Did she press charges?"

"Uh-huh."

"Okay, well, while my faith in our justice system-there's an oxymoron for you now-is hardly unbounded, she's done the right stuff. You get on your little vigilante kick, Junior, you make it worse and maybe you make yourself messed up or dead. So let's not deal in that."

"Okay, so what AM I supposed to do?"

He doesn't say anything about this.

"I'm not sure. You looked on the web?"

"No."

"Gotta be stuff there, dude. I mean, they got sites for people who can only climax with a mongoose under the bed. And unfortunately, this is a lot more common." The idea of this pisses both of us off. "I don't get it. What makes guys think they can do this?"

"I dunno."

"I don't either, but I'll tell ya, I'm sick of getting a bad name because of some ASSHOLES who think they gotta have that kind of power over women. I mean, ya listen, you'd think we were all rapists, all guys, that is. And most of us-I mean, I love Ally so much. I don't care how mad I get at her. I'd never hurt her. Not intentionally, and definitely not like THAT."

"If it was Ally and not Kelly, what'd you do?"

"Me? I'd wanna kill the bastard."

Figures.

"But I wouldn't."

"Okay."

"I'd try to do whatever I could for Ally. Whatever that was."

"Like what?"

"Junior, I can't even get my wife to talk about her mom passing on. You seriously think I know what you'd do in this situation? All I know is, I'd be around for her, and I'd do what she needed."

He finally looks over at me. "You love her a lot, don't you?"

"Yeah." My eyes are really starting to sting. He lays a hand on my shoulder, and stops suddenly.

"Junior. I think this is where we turn around."

"What?"

"Just walk the other way, Junior."

I'm having a REAL bad day.

END OF PART 40