Chapter 26
Edward Oak's hands shook as he dialed the phone. He was in disbelief, or a state of it, and knew very well, but didn't care. For the moment, that sort of thing didn't matter. What mattered was what he had seen, or rather… What he had heard.
All he'd wanted to do was borrow a book on evolutionary evidence, a book he'd wanted to use for a research paper he was putting together, one he'd intended to make shine to the scientific world. He'd gone over to Ashley's to see if she had one, and then…
And then he'd seen his sons. Well, he'd seen one of his sons, and Geoff had looked pissed beyond belief. Not that Ed blamed him. In his heart, he knew what he'd done was wrong. He never should have done it in the first place, and even after that, he should've let the news out easier, should've made it easier for Geoffrey to take…
But he hadn't and that was in the past. At least, for him it was. Apparently, Geoffrey hadn't let it go. It angered him when he thought about it. Why wouldn't the man just forgive and forget? It wasn't as if it was terrible, after all.
Than he'd always come to that block that said that yes, it was that bad. It had hurt Geoffrey, and would never leave. For that, he hated himself.
So he'd tried to forget. Tried to get on with his life, to leave it all behind. And even tonight he wouldn't have done anything, probably would've just left if it hadn't been for what he'd heard.
Giovanni had been inside of the house. He'd heard the man's voice, clear as glass even to his failing ears, and realized immediately who it was. He'd gone to see his wife… his ex-wife, but…
It was wrong! He wasn't supposed to be there, was supposed to be locked up!
Ed cringed at the thought, without realizing he had stopped dialing. It was a terrible thing to think, even of someone like that. After all, he was Giovanni's father… Still, he couldn't help it. It wasn't RIGHT!
He'd always known something like that was going to happen to his younger son. In the house he was living in, it came as no surprise… After Geoffrey had left, Ed had taken to alcohol. Or maybe it'd be more correct to say that the alcohol had taken hold of him.
During that time, that awful time he preferred to forget, he knew he'd been negligent. He knew he'd been angry, been tired, and probably abusive to anyone who got in his way. He didn't want to think of that, though. All he wanted to was to get this over with, to be done with it.
Could he do it? Could he report his own son? He didn't doubt it. After all, he wasn't the most righteous man… Doing this seemed right, and if it wasn't, it was simply another mistake.
Quickly, before he could change his mind, he dialed. The phone rang, and was answered by a tired-sounding man. "Viridian Police department. How may I help you?"
For one terrible moment he blanked out, and then the Professor remembered. "This is Edward Oak in Pallet."
"Hey, Professor," the man's voice sounded slightly cheerier, and it struck Ed that everyone respected him despite his past… Than again, how many of them actually knew his past?
"We have a… a…" he stumbled over the words.
"Spit it out," the voice smiled.
"An escaped convict," he felt the words roll dryly out of his mouth. It hurt to say them, he realized. Even though he knew he was right, it hurt. It didn't sound right, not at all.
"Where?" the voice was immediately alert.
"Ashley Ketchum's house," it occurred to him that he had almost said 'Oak' as her last name… He felt himself losing it and was unable to stop.
"We'll be right over. Is she all right?"
"Yes, she's fine." He wondered when the question would come up.
"Who is it?"
There it was. Took the man long enough to ask. Ed hoped he could answer. For a moment he couldn't, his throat was too dry, and then he found he could. "Giovanni Oak."
"Oh…" there was a slight pause. "We'll be right down. Stay calm."
"I will. Thank you."
He hung up and lowered himself slowly into the chair beside the phone. He hoped he'd done the right thing. He really, honestly did.
Harris Ragner, deputy of the Viridian City police department, hung up the phone and jumped up from his desk. He couldn't believe what was happening. For him, this was the chance of a lifetime. He could prove himself, could show that he deserved to be in a better position, with a much larger salary.
At present, he felt underpaid and under appreciated. Nobody respected him, or so he thought, no one saw his full potential. If he could catch this guy, he'd be in for some big time rewards.
Hurriedly, he pulled his holster out of his desk and stuck his gun in it. No need to take any chances, not with a criminal. He'd fired before, and could do it again…
The phone rang, and he picked it up. "Viridian police department, how may I help you?" He felt impatient, wanted to slam down the phone, but kept at it. He was worried that the unanswered call would be reported. What he wasn't thinking, though he had no need to worry, was that while he talked, 'the convict' was wreaking havoc.
"Yeah," the voice on the other end was groggy and thick. "My name is Jim Chet, Celadon City warden. We've had a break-out, and I was, uh, I was knocked out."
Ragner was immediately interested. "How'd he escape?" It would help to have details for when higher-level officials arrived. It never crossed his mind that they might be upset because he had gone out on his own.
"Some guy broke him out… look one helluva lot like him, come to think of it. Got me out of it," Ragner was having trouble understanding the guy, and found himself growing impatient again. "I hadda tell someone…"
"Thanks, I'll get right too it. We'll call you back."
"Thank you very…"
Ragner slammed the phone down and grabbed his jacket, slipping it over his shoulders. He flicked off the light switches, and headed out through the lobby. Jenny looked up at him in surprise, her eyes exhausted as she looked over a stack of files. He felt disdain for her, how easily she'd shown she could work, how easily she'd moved up. As he felt that, he knew he couldn't tell her about what he was doing.
"Harry?" she sounded surprised, with that constant half-squeak in her voice. "Where are you going?"
"Some guy called in, said there was a cat up a tree," it was lame; he knew it was, but she'd buy it. She always bought corny shit like that.
"Oh, well, thanks for going over. I'm really busy here," she motioned to the pile of folders, "And I really appreciate it."
"Hey, no problem," he grinned at her, feeling a sense of triumph. "I don't mind at all."
With that, he headed out the door. His car was parked almost directly in front of the station, and he felt a sense of relief that no one had said anything about it, than discarded the thought. He climbed in, than started the car and pulled out.
Jenny looked out the door with a puzzled expression on her face. It wasn't like Ragner to be so… Ready to work. As far as she could remember, he'd never done anything without being told, and even then it was only a 50/50 chance that he'd complete the task.
That was why he'd never made it any further, why he'd been forced to stay put at the bottom. Everyone passed him by, all the new kids who came included. He had always seemed to hold that to everyone, but no one cared. To them, it hadn't mattered.
Now that he had shown some initiative, she felt that maybe he could make it. Even if it was just a cat in a tree, it was a start. Anything that could get a person going… That's what they should do.
"Good for him," she murmured absently, turning back to the file.
Ragner reached the edge of Pallet town soon after. He parked at the edge of town, probably one of the only smart decisions he made that night, and walked in. There wasn't much at all to be seen, but he'd already known that much.
He saw shadows of houses in the gloom, as well as silhouettes of trees and shrubbery. It was one of those 'nice' towns, where everyone knew everyone. Not that he cared, all he had to do was find Mrs. Ketchum's house.
There it was, right up ahead. Not very far from where he had parked, as a matter of fact… But it was too late to do anything about that.
There was a car parked across the street and he walked casually over to it. Suddenly, he was in no rush. He knew he could afford to wait, was sure that 'the convict' wasn't gone. He wanted to take it easy, and, again, forgot that there was a woman in the house, that maybe she was in danger.
He jotted the license number of the car down, than shoved the small notebook back into his pocket. As he walked across again, he pulled out the handgun. He found that he wanted to use it. Maybe if he killed the guy, made it look like an accident, than they wouldn't…
But no. Even he wasn't stupid enough to try something like that. It was beyond stupidity, beyond his 'morals'. He'd just scare the guy; get him back in the car, back to jail. With these thoughts in mind, he checked the safety, making sure it was on.
Than he sat down on an old tree stump in the soft grass, resting his feet and waiting, forgetting all else, forgetting his real duties. All he wanted to was to catch the guy, and he'd do it. So he continued to wait.
Chapter 27
Dan lead the way with a new purpose as he and Ginger stepped over the body of a man who had apparently gotten into Felicity's way. Unlucky him. The very sight was chilling, made him want to vomit. He didn't, though.
Somehow, having Ginger behind him helped. He didn't want to be sick in front of her, not if he could help it. Nothing like that had happened before, it was just knowing who the woman who had killed was, seeing how she had discarded the body with so little care.
Something was wrong with the woman. There had to be. She had seemed fine before… Before the Team had been broken. Not the nicest person, but careful.
This display, leaving the body in the middle of the road, was clear proof that she had lost it. That she was gone from the traditional ways of the world. The thought scared him, and that was why he felt sick.
Still, he pushed forward, stepping over the thickening puddle of blood. It was almost a wonder that the man hadn't been found yet, but Dan had an idea that Felicity was close, that the shot had been very recent. They had heard the gun shot plainly, after all. Not muffled by distance, not by much. Not long ago, either.
Without another look at the carcass, without a word to Ginger about it, he started walking with a brisk, alert pace. If Ginger was right, Felicity could be anywhere. Maybe she'd sneak up on them. Maybe she'd already run off.
He thought the first option was more likely and so, apparently, did Ginger. After what she had said, he had realized the truth of it. The truth that Felicity could jump out and shoot them both dead before they could even realize what was happening.
Not that it mattered. They couldn't let her get away without a fight, that much he knew. Damnit, she had scared Shadow! That was why he was there!
Was it really? He loved the girl, but she was so reluctant to show affection. Not that he had ever minded, but did he really care about her so much that he would risk his life for her?
Judging by the situation he had found himself in, the answer was yes. And he knew it was the truth. He couldn't hide his love for her no matter how hard he tried. Hiding only led to denial, and he didn't want that. He knew Shadow felt it, and he wanted to make her see what he could.
If he ever saw her again, that was. He hoped to God he did, but wasn't sure if his wishing would come true. This was a dangerous situation, obviously more so than he could imagine.
Optimism was one of his strong traits, though, and he kept his mind in a positive set. It had helped him before; maybe it would help him again.
Up ahead there was a trail leading off into the woods. Suddenly, he felt a sudden impulse to enter. He'd heard of intuition, and now he believed it. This force, this need to head that way was undeniable.
Maybe she'd gone that way, maybe she hadn't. Either way, he felt that he was meant to go through there. Whether it meant death or safety, it was his way.
"We need to go in there," he stopped at the head of the trail suddenly, not noticing that Ginger nearly ran into him.
"Are you sure?" Ginger didn't sound afraid, but he didn't doubt that she was. How could she not be?
"Yes… no…" he shrugged, sighing deeply. "I can't explain it. I just KNOW."
He looked at her with an intensity he didn't realize he had, and she nodded. "If you feel that strongly… why not?"
With a nod, Dan began to turn back. He stopped momentarily when Ginger put her hand on his shoulder, though, and looked back into her deep green eyes. What he saw made him draw back slightly. It was a blazing mixture of confusion, hate, love, determination, and fear. There was something terrible in those eyes, something disturbing.
"Just remember," her tone of voice was calm, completely contradicting the look in her eyes. "Murder is her game, and she knows how to play it well."
Dan nodded slowly, swallowing hard, and turned towards the trail. Something about what she said had scared him more than anything so far had. He hadn't thought about it that way, and now that he did, he found himself worrying.
Murder wasn't his game. Murder was something he had only barely become acquainted with so far. What did he know about the game? How could you win at a game that you didn't understand?
He was reminded of a happier time, when he had been part of a real family. He hadn't been very old at all, and his brother had asked if he wanted to player checkers. He'd given it a shot, but ended up losing all his pieces before he even began to figure out what was happening. Even afterwards, he hadn't understood what had happened.
This was the same deal, than, the same sort of thing. Just a game, and he didn't understand it. Oh God.
With a small snarl, he shoved these thoughts away. He didn't need to have them plaguing him. It was a terrible time for that sort of thing, awful, really. Fear never helped in a situation. At best it let you run away, at worst it sent you running to the enemy. Usually, though, it just froze you.
Froze you, and then left you to die. And he didn't want that. He wanted to live, wanted to see Shadow again.
His confidence slightly restored, he started down the path. Ignoring all the shadows, ignoring all the noises that crept around him, he kept his eyes watching for Felicity. They had to find her before she found them, had to attack before she could have her turn.
If they could do that, if they could sneak up on her, maybe they could win. It was a foolish thought, and he knew it, but he could be hopeful. There was nearly no chance of sneaking up on her, but it was there. Just maybe he could hit the chance.
His mind was running through these thoughts when he heard Ginger shout his name. It was beginning to pull away from the stream of thoughts when, a split second later, he felt a flaring pain in his lower right leg.
The flare immediately spread itself out, and he fell to the ground, howling. The pain was terrible, tremendously so. It was as if someone had decided to shove his leg into a pool of piranhas to feed the damn fish. It was as if it was being rolled in glass. As if it was being shredded up, in short.
As he fell backwards, he saw a white form in the darkness, and immediately understood. Ginger had been right, Felicity had known how to play the game well. He hated Felicity, wanted to get up and kill her, but couldn't. The pain had washed everything else away for the moment.
He wanted to be strong, didn't want to lie howling as he was shot to death, but couldn't help it. There was no way out. And soon, it didn't matter anyway.
Distantly, he felt himself being hit with another bullet, felt it digging into his chest like some hideous beast. So this was how it felt to be shot. This was how dying felt.
Everything faded slowly into a wave of red as his screams became more and more hoarse. Soon, the red began to fade towards maroon, than to deep maroon, and finally to black…
Ginger's eyes flamed with a new sort of anger. With Trae, it had been different. Trae had been one of them, but Trae had also been Trae. And Dan had been killed right in front of her…
He was dead, right? No one could survive that. He certainly didn't look alive. The blood hadn't ceased it's flow, it was just getting started. It ran smoothly out of his chest, out of his leg. Past the shattered bone and the broken skin.
Not Dan, no, he couldn't be dead. He'd loved Shadow, and Shadow had loved him, she'd just never been able to make him understand completely. She had been hurt before, and she had never told him. Now he would never know…
How could he be dead? Now it seemed real, now everything held a brilliance to it that almost hurt Ginger's mind. It was an intensity, as if she was seeing everything as new. It was all clear to her, the whole scene.
How could that have happened? Simple, really. Felicity understood what she was doing. Ginger had no doubt that the woman was crazy, but she also had no doubt that Felicity hadn't lost it completely yet.
"You bitch," she snarled, standing her ground. There wasn't anywhere to go, after all. Felicity had a gun, and Ginger knew that aiming and shooting would be no problem for the other.
Waiting for the shot, Ginger almost reached for her knife, than thought better of it. There was no point, it wouldn't do any good for throwing, after all, and she highly doubted that Felicity would allow her to get close enough to do any damage.
There was no shot, and Ginger stared in surprise as Felicity began to turn around. "Catch as catch can, Ginger," she called over, laughing wildly.
As Felicity spoke, she began to run out of the clearing in long strides that seemed to suit her mental state. To Ginger, she looked like a deer. A deadly deer. A strange thought, but one that seemed to make sense.
Though once she thought about it, Felicity didn't fit the description of a deer. More like a velociraptor. Yeah, that was it.
What was she doing, standing? Shaking her head, she ran forward, not looking at Dan as she passed him, knowing she wouldn't be able to stand it. All she knew was that she had to catch Felicity.
The trees flew by as she ran, and there was no pain, no sore muscle. She was running faster than she ever had; yet she didn't feel the sting of it. There was nothing besides her goal.
The thought that all she had was a knife, that she was walking into a trap, played in the front of her mind for a while, and she pushed it back without much thought. It didn't matter. Didn't matter that Felicity was ruling the game. Nothing did, because for once in her life she was rushing into something without any thought.
Matt would've told her to stop, and Matt would've been right to do so. She didn't understand at that moment, didn't comprehend. Hell, she couldn't understand or comprehend.
All she knew was that Dan was dead, that Felicity would kill again. That Felicity was a target that had to be destroyed. That was what she knew, and that was what she went on.
When she broke through the low line of bushes, she at first didn't understand what had happened, or where she was. She halted immediately, ignoring the slow ache that began to creep into her legs.
It was a rock face that dropped off only thirty feet from where she stood. At first she didn't realize what it was, and then she understood. It was part of the cliff, the one that stood directly over the deep Naseau River. Not tall, but still a fair drop-off. She had seen the cliff few times, and didn't completely register it now for what it was until she saw Felicity standing on the edge, outlined against the moonlight.
It was the perfect scene for a horror movie. A dark night, with a chilly wind blowing across the face of the rock and bits of filtered moonlight shining down from up above. A woman standing with a gun, and another emerging from a path onto the face.
Ginger was unaware of this, though. If she had been, she wouldn't have cared, anyway. That wouldn't have mattered, because what mattered was the woman with the gun.
Felicity had to die. She had to be eliminated.
Before she had any time to think, Ginger lunged forward.
Felicity laughed bitterly as Ginger ran towards her. The girl was showing spirit, that much was creditable. Unfortunately, spirit wasn't always the only necessary tool. Usually, it wasn't.
Thinking was always good. Every minute that passed brought her closer to shutdown, but she could still think clearly. That much she could be thankful for, not that she had really ever been thankful for anything in her entire life.
These people were so easy to manipulate. All she had needed to do was kill someone, and the others had started off. It was a chain reaction, and she was enjoying it very much. Very much indeed.
Grinning, she thumbed back the hammer on the revolver.
Chapter 28
Shadow felt her heart pounding in her chest as she followed close behind Matt, wanting to run, but knowing that it wouldn't work. Running into a situation wasn't smart, hadn't she already figured that out?
Beside her, Mike didn't look much happier about the pace. It wasn't slow; was, in fact, quite fast. However, if they ran, they could travel faster. She figured that he understood too, though.
Panic walked hand in hand with running, it seemed. Whenever there was a bad situation, the two joined and began to work as one. If they ran, they'd lose it. As it was, she was barely holding onto the last strings of reality.
Nothing seemed right. It was all so rushed, so terribly hurried! How could Trae be dead? How could Felicity have killed her? How could they be looking… hunting, for Felicity?
It wasn't right. Nothing was right. She felt as if she was dreaming, it was a strange sort of disconnection. As if the world was moving without her, going on while she stood alone, dazed and frozen with confusion.
Everything was happening so fast. Felicity's sneer as she turned for the window, Trae's mutilated body, Dan and Ginger's departure, and the gun in her right hand all flashed in front of her eyes. And with that came Matt's cool attitude about the whole thing, while Mike had to struggle to keep himself under control, as she did.
Nothing made sense, nothing at all. The only thing she wanted at the moment was to find Dan, to tell him she loved him. Because she did, and hadn't been able to say so. Also to know he was there with her. Maybe with him she would find the world again, maybe it would all make sense.
Suddenly, she felt and urge to be with Dan that was so strong she nearly sat down and gave up. It wouldn't do her any good, but it all seemed so futile. All she wanted to sit down, to be held by Dan, to hold Dan. She wanted to reassure, she wanted to be reassured. Why did she have to be out in the middle of the night?
"You all right?" Matt didn't look back as he spoke, but his voice had been pitched more towards her, and he sounded concerned.
It shook her slightly, taking away the disconnection momentarily. "Yeah… yeah, I'm fine."
Mike looked over at her, and she saw the concern in his eyes. "They both care about me," she thought tiredly. And it was true. Of course they did.
"Are you sure?" Mike sounded slightly anxious.
Shadow nodded. "Of course. It's just, you know, I'm a little tired."
Mike looked at her with an expression that was pitying, sad, knowing, and somehow loving at the same time. He knew. He had to know, of course. He was probably thinking something the same. "I know the feeling."
So he did. She nodded, than looked forward again. He understood, and it made her feel a little better. Made her understand what was happening.
They had to find Felicity. More importantly, they had to find Felicity before she found Dan and Ginger. Which meant they had to find her soon.
There had already been a gunshot up ahead, but Matt had been sure it wasn't them. She had asked him how, he had said he wasn't sure how he knew, he just knew. And that had settled it, no questions asked. At least, not out loud.
In her mind, she was struggling with the idea that it was them. That maybe Dan had been shot. She didn't think she could stand the thought. It hurt her in a way she had thought nothing ever could. Why did it have to be so difficult? Why was life so harsh?
She wanted to cry, but wouldn't. Couldn't let herself cry right then and there. Not in front of the guys. They wouldn't laugh at her, but it still didn't seem right. Maybe she was stubborn, but she didn't want to do it, damnit.
To her surprise, she kept walking. That positive of Mike understanding was already beginning to wear off, much to her dismay. Why did all good things end so quickly? Why was life cursed in such a way?
"Damn the life," she muttered.
Mike turned his head to look at her, and Matt didn't react at all. "What?" Mike asked, though she had a feeling he'd heard her.
"Never mind," she shook her head with a sigh and shifted the gun to her left hand.
She didn't like to be walking around with it, but Matt had said to keep it out, just in case. She hadn't needed to ask what they were watching for. What, or who, else?
Still, the idea didn't sit right with her. What if some officers spotted them walking around with weapons? That idea didn't usually sit well with them, either. In fact, the idea of arresting a trio packing heat would probably seem like fun for them, especially once they found out the members were Rockets.
Of course, she figured she knew why they could get away with it. The police wouldn't be interested in them. If they were even out, they'd be looking at a crime scene. Because somewhere up ahead, Felicity had killed someone. And of course it had been Felicity who had shot. Who else?
The whole thing seemed too convenient, though. Maybe the kill had been an accident, maybe not. What if Felicity had done it on purpose? What if she had done it so that they wouldn't be stopped by any suspicious lawmen and arrested? After all, Felicity wanted to kill them herself.
The thought chilled her again, with a quality that was comparable to being doused with ice-cold water. That was what Felicity wanted, after all. She wanted them all dead. And the thought that everything was being set up…
It was like something Ginger had once told her. Something about murder being a game. How some people were good, and some people were bad. High stakes, only one winner.
Apparently, Felicity had played the game before, and knew what she was doing. Felicity knew the edges, the ways to win.
Then again, maybe Matt did, too. Their side had the obvious disadvantage, but Matt seemed to understand everything. Hell, he probably understood whether or not they were being set up.
Felicity knew what she was doing. Matt knew what he was doing. The differences were that Felicity had set it off, and that Felicity had nothing to do. If what Matt had said was true, she was dying and probably knew it. The thought was… Well, it was something to keep you up at night.
Suddenly, another shot rang out into the night. This time, she noticed Matt cringe visibly, and she felt a lump form in her throat. For a moment, she couldn't ask, couldn't even breathe. Then she swallowed the lump with a thick click, and spoke in a shaky voice.
"Do you think that was…?"
Matt shook his head slightly, and in his voice she heard a sort of hopelessness. He was afraid too, she realized. Afraid for Ginger, but still afraid. That didn't do much for her nerves. "I think so."
Neither said any more, and Mike didn't even speak. They picked up the pace a little, though. It was almost a run, but not quite. They couldn't run, couldn't panic.
Up ahead, she saw a group of people forming. They were all walking into a small group, surrounding something; Shadow had an idea of what it was. In fact, she was sure she knew.
They kept walking forward, and Shadow saw that several police cars and an ambulance were parked beside the sidewalk, and the officers were walking around, trying to regain control while the medics stooped around the inside of the circle of people.
Matt shoved his gun into his holster with what looked like a tired reluctance. Shadow shot Mike a glance and motioned to her shoulders. He shrugged, as confused as she was. Neither had holsters.
"Stick it in your pants," Matt turned halfway around, not losing stride, and then turned back.
Shadow blinked momentarily not quite understanding what he meant. For a moment, the cold night air simply rendered all thought impossible. When she realized that what he HAD meant, she nodded. After all, it made sense. Shadow shoved the gun into the waist of the jeans she had hurriedly slipped into, recoiling at the cold metallic feel of it. She'd be glad to be past the crowd, very glad.
They got around it easily enough, and she only took a quick peek at the body. There was blood all over; it was all she could see. And she'd keep seeing it for the rest of the night, It was so terrible in its simplicity, in what it implied. He was dead, and Dan could be dead too.
With a new purpose, she strode forward. Up ahead, there was a break in the tree line, and suddenly Shadow understood that they were to go into it. Apparently, the others did too, because they all turned towards it.
They walked down it, picking up the pace even more. Felicity was nearby; somehow Shadow knew that. She could sense it, could feel the woman…
Suddenly, she felt as if she were going to faint, and she tried to scream. It came out as a moan, but felt like a scream all the same. She swooned, and when Mike caught her by the shoulders, she could only moan, over and over, "Oh God, Dan… Oh God, Oh God, Dan…"
Mike gaped at the figure laying on the path ahead of them. It couldn't be, Christ no, it couldn't be. Was that bloody being really Dan? Of course. Of course it was…
He felt a sudden, nearly uncontrollable urge, to vomit, and somehow held it back. He figured that the only reason was because Shadow was right there, and he couldn't barf all over her, God no.
She was terrible, moaning and swooning. He kept his arms clamped on her shoulders, willing that she not faint. How could that happen to her? It was obvious that she'd loved him, and now he looked to be dead…
Looked, oh Jesus, he didn't want to look. Dan was laying on his back, sprawled carelessly, and left to die. There was blood running slowly out of his body from his chest and his leg. The blood was spilling on of wounds and onto clothing that was already saturated with the shit.
Dan's leg was shattered, the bone seemed to have been blown apart. Bits and pieces were scattered around the immediate vicinity, and Mike's mind conjured up an image of a wrecking ball. It was sick, but it seemed to fit. The blood oozing out of the leg wound was thick with bits of gore, and Mike had to shift his eyes away quickly. He settled them on Shadow, on keeping her off the ground.
"Are you okay?" he shook her slightly.
"Oh God, Dan… Dan…" she was muttering in an empty, disbelieving voice that struck him hard.
She was so tired, so weary, and now this. Now Dan. Oh God, oh God… Shadow was right. It was bad, poor Dan…
"I think you might want to look at him," Matt's voice shook his thoughts, and Mike looked up to find the other man standing beside Dan. "Maybe you can do something for him."
Mike looked at him strangely. How could you help someone how has died? Then again… What if he wasn't dead?
The thought brought him back to earth, and he nodded. "All right."
"Good," there was a look in Matt's eyes that Mike couldn't fit for a second. Then he understood. The guy was worried about Ginger. "She isn't here," he spoke tiredly, as if reading Mike's thoughts. "I need to find her."
Mike nodded. "Luck."
"Yeah."
Mike watched for a moment as Matt turned and started off at what he nearly mistook for a run. Then he turned his head towards Shadow, who had quieted down as was apparently composing herself slowly.
"Shadow, are you okay?"
Her voice was shaking, and he knew she was crying. "I won't faint…"
"All right, just hold on a minute…" He let go of her and, indeed, she managed to stay up. He nodded, than turned towards Dan and walked to him.
The sight of the mangled body hurt his mind, but that was okay, that didn't matter. If there was a chance that Dan could be saved, he'd take it. He didn't notice Shadow come up behind him, still crying quietly, still holding back any urge to scream again.
And maybe that chance was there. "Dan?"
Mike waited for a response.
Matt walked as quickly as he was able to without panicking. Panic was bad, and they all knew it. Mike and Shadow had held it back… at least until they'd found Dan. Shadow had lost it there, and Matt honestly didn't blame her.
If he found Ginger dead… he didn't want to think about it. It wouldn't be pretty, though. Not in the least. So he pushed it aside.
Dan. He could think about Dan. It pained him, but not nearly as badly as thinking about Ginger did. Dan had been a great guy, and now he was lying on the forest floor like a discarded toy that had been abused by some kid.
That didn't mean he was dead. Dan had a chance, and Matt knew it. Hopefully, Mike did too. Maybe even Shadow would pull it together once she realized that fact. He honestly hoped so. If Dan could stay alive, so much the better.
At the moment, though, he only wanted to find Felicity. That bitch had laid a trap. That bitch had laid a trap, and then set it. And, of course, they were walking into it.
There was no other way, though. As Ginger had said, murder was a game. And Felicity had obviously been setting her end up. Because either way, people would die. Ginger was out there, and he had to find her.
That was what he was going on. It wasn't his normal work; it was out of his line. Nothing like this had ever been put in front of him, and he hoped nothing like it was ever put in front of him again.
He was trying to find Ginger, had to find Ginger. He had to kill Felicity. This time the killing wasn't a job, just a simple assignment. Before this, most murder had seemed trivial, an everyday activity. Now it was… Well, now it was personal. He just hoped it didn't get any more personal.
She had to be somewhere up ahead. It would be an obvious location, somewhere; he wouldn't possibly miss seeing her. Because Felicity had set out her trap, and he was ready to walk right on into it, because it was necessary.
Soon, he'd run into her. And then there would be a finality. The trail couldn't be much longer, and he had a feeling he knew where it'd end up. Up ahead was the cliff standing above the Naseau River.
Oh yeah, of course she'd be up there. The ones who went crazy always chose places like that. It seemed to suit their mind setting. It was dramatic; therefore it was an excellent choice. He'd heard that their lives seemed like movies when they got too far into the sickness, and he figured Felicity was that far in.
Then he heard something else, something ahead of him. Two gunshots with little time in between. His throat caught, and he suppressed a scream. He couldn't be too late, dear God, no…
Up ahead, he saw the clearing, and he understood.
He reacted before he considered what he was doing. Without thinking, without bothering to think, Matt ran forward, towards the clearing, towards the gunshots.
Chapter 29
Giovanni raised his line of vision until his eyes were locked with Ashley's. He saw, without much surprise, that hers were watery and slightly red. If it weren't for the fact that he seemed to have forgotten how to cry, he might have joined her in her tears.
It hurt him to see her cry, and yet it was all right. Because she needed to do it, they needed to be with each other. Christ, how he'd missed her. Why had he given her up?
For selfishness? For allowing himself to be carried away? Of course that was it. What else would it be? He was almost ashamed of himself, but not quite. He had never known to be ashamed of his work, and it seemed that he could not ever be.
Did he love her? Yes, he loved her deeply. Love was something he had never had when she was gone. She was the one love of his life, the one who had been there. And he had let her go.
Now it had all come to sitting in her house, with her crying and him lost. They seemed to be so different, and yet they weren't. Because inside, they were still the same. Inside, they still loved each other.
That idea, that thought that something was the same, was painful in its truth. It was true, and he never would've believed it before… right? No, that wasn't quite right. Because he had thought of her.
Those thoughts of her had plagued him at the worst times, at the darkest hours. He had hated himself for what he'd done to her, but somehow been unable to hate her for what she'd done to him.
After all, it hadn't really been her fault. She'd hung on or as long as she'd been able, and then she'd left. It had been his own doing, his fault; his actions that had caused the problem that had resulted.
He held her tighter, she simply sobbed onto his shoulder. That sound, the emotion in it, shook him hard. How could she still love him, anyway? After all of what had happened, was it really true that she loved him?
It seemed that she did. It was obvious that she did. Why else would she even be able to be anywhere near him? Of course she loved him! He wasn't sure how. She had always been forgiving, but this? Even this seemed too much.
Love, ah God was it new to him. No, that wasn't right. More like an old friend who'd finally returned. And wasn't it wonderful? It hurt him. Hurt him to see that she loved him, to find that he loved her and didn't want to leave.
What else hurt? Everything. How he had worked as a criminal. How could he have done that? And how could he have continued to do it even after Ashley had asked, pleaded, begged that he quit?
Now he didn't understand. All of that pride, all of that power, seemed distant at the moment. It was her, it was Ashley. And it was himself. More than that, though, it was both of them together. Yes, that was it.
He understood, realized that this was how he wanted it, how he needed it, to be. Just the two of them. Unfortunately, he had also realized this too late. Far too late.
After all, what was left? He couldn't stay with her. Couldn't stay anywhere unprotected, because the law was after him now. It had been before, but now it was strong, now he had to hide.
That meant returning to the Rockets. He knew that he could do it, though it that half-fazed state of mind it seemed that he'd be unable to do anything of the sort. Seemed that he'd be unable to go back to crime.
Of course he could. Once a criminal, always a criminal. He'd be able to forget, as he had forgotten before. Maybe it would plague him at times, but for the most part it would be gone for good. That was the way life seemed to go. What hurt was forgotten, to be uncovered later.
Still, he didn't know if he could actually leave her. Now that they were together, he honestly didn't know. She wouldn't go with him, that much he knew. She loved him, yes, but she wouldn't do that. He couldn't let her go through it if she would have offered.
All in all, Giovanni figured that his options sucked. All included leaving her, or being in danger. That would mean getting Ashley in trouble, and he didn't want that. So what to do?
At the moment, it really did matter. He reminded himself of this with a start. If he couldn't be with her for long, even if he could, he wanted to be able to remember this moment. To remember that they did love each other, to Hell with what everyone thought.
Neither had spoken since Ashley had said she loved him, and Giovanni couldn't think of anything to say. He wanted to say something, wanted to talk, but it was no good. For years speaking had come naturally. Beginning had been simplicity itself. Now it was hard.
Once again, it was Ashley who managed to speak first, and Giovanni loved her even more for it. "How's Ginger?"
Ginger? Oh shit, he'd forgotten about her. That was bad… that was really, really bad. Because the last time he'd seen her had been at the trial, and she had appeared to be very upset…
"She's great."
Ashley looked at him quizzically, and he understood that she knew he wasn't telling the whole truth. Sure, Ginger was fine, Ginger always had been fine. But no one could be completely fine when they worked for the Rockets.
"Does she work…?" Ashley began and dropped off before she finished, lowering her head slightly.
"Yes," Giovanni nodded grimly.
There it was again, idiocy on his own part. Why had he gotten his daughter into the mess? After all, she could've been spared. Could've lived without it.
Still… He couldn't see anything wrong with it, really. The part of his mind he'd been listening to knew it, and that part wasn't all wrong. There had been independence in the Team, and Ginger had never complained. Ginger had been all for it.
"She… she liked it," he sighed, unable to convey what he felt. That maybe it was right, even though Ashley made it feel so wrong.
The woman gave him a look of tired despair. "Is she all right, at least?"
"Better than all right," he nodded, hoping it made Ashley feel better. It seemed to. Only a little, but it was an improvement. "How's Ash?"
Ashley's eyes brightened at this. "Oh, he's great! He's got a bunch of little adventures… they're so cute! And he brings his friends over… I wish you could talk to him."
Giovanni had been looking away, and turned his eyes immediately back to Ashley's. Had she said that, really? Had she meant it?
Yes, she had. Somehow, he found that amusing. At the same time, however, he found it saddening. That she had so much faith in him. How could she do it?
"Ashley, I don't want to leave you," the words escaped from his mouth. He hadn't known he would say it, hadn't realized what was happening until the words were out of his mouth. Now she knew.
There were tears in the woman's green eyes as she spoke. "I know… and I don't want you to leave."
It stung. It stung really badly, because she meant that one too. He still didn't understand fully. He didn't think he ever could fully understand her, what she felt. All he knew was that he loved her, he knew it. Why else would the thought have played through his head so many times already?
"I don't know what to do," he felt his throat clenching, but wouldn't allow it to choke him. At least he had that much control over himself. "Ashley, I want to stay, but I can't. And leaving means going back to the Team."
When Ashley looked up at him, her eyes were shining with tears again, and he could see that she too was pained by this. She understood what he was talking about. "Gio, you can't! Please don't!"
"I don't want to," he shook his head resolutely but slowly. It was true at the moment, but what about later? What about when his mind had blocked the moment off?
He couldn't let it. That was all there was too it. He had been hard, he had been cold, and he didn't want to be like that ever again. Because he had found love again.
"There has to be another way," Ashley's voice wavered. God, she was strong, but she was weary. She was sick of it. And so was he. He was sick of it, tired of living in the shadows. Tired of running from the law. Sick to death of the whole deal.
What had happened to him? He'd never thought this would happen to him. When he'd been younger, he never would've thought he'd be involved in a crime syndicate. Then again, who would? When he'd been the Boss, he never would've thought he'd leave the Team. Now that seemed easily possible.
Damnit, he wasn't going to leave her. They could find somewhere to go. Hell, he could get away with living with her. He'd find a way! "We can work this out, somehow."
Suddenly, unexpectedly, a huge smile broke out over Ashley's face. It was like a sunbeam breaking through a stream of thunderclouds. He was shocked by it, but in a good way. It was great to see her smile. She had apparently been struck by the idea. "Of course we can!"
A small, almost uneasy smile formed on his own face. She was happy, he was happy because of that. That was what he wanted... for her to be happy. For her to be able to live life in a good way. For her to be able to stop tearing at herself.
"Do you want to step out on the porch?" Giovanni motioned towards the entry to the living room. He wanted to get outdoors, anyway. Felt that he needed it.
"That sounds wonderful," the smile was still there, and it had spread to her face.
Both stood up at the same time and started towards the door. They took short glances forward as they walked, but neither really paid attention to where they were going. They were looking at each other, enthralled with what they had found. As they walked through the kitchen, neither noticed Geoffrey standing in the back, watching them quietly. He was part of the background, and the background didn't really matter at the moment.
Giovanni opened the door quietly, not really bothering to think about what he was doing. Not thinking that maybe someone would see him. That didn't even occur to him… At least not in the front of his mind. In the back, yes, but the back was background, too.
As he stepped out, about to turn to Ashley, her felt a sharp sting in his chest. More than a sting, a sting didn't quite fit it. More like a stab. More like a bullet.
Swiftly, he lifted his head and saw a man sitting by the road. The form was dim, but he could see it. He could see the outline of a gun too, and…
Another sharp burst of pain, this time a few inches lower, only a couple of inches away from his waist. The man was shooting him down, and he couldn't do anything about it, because he was falling, falling…
Giovanni fell quickly, though it seemed to him an eternity of falling through the air. It was all happening quickly, too quickly, and he hadn't been able to react. He slammed his head against the wall and dropped into a partially seated position that hurt his gut. Or that brightened the pain of the bullet there.
As he had fallen, he had been hit again, this time in the lower left leg. He hadn't realized it, hadn't even felt it. The pain of the other two wounds was fresh and biting, hard and terrible. It was agony, was bolts of lightening and infernos of flame and waves of ice all at once.
He tried to stand up but was unable, had known he would be immediately. When he dropped the couple of inches back to the side of the house, he felt the pain all over again. It burst inside of him, and yet he didn't scream. Couldn't scream, it seemed, just as he had been unable to cry.
That man by the road had shot him. He'd done it easily. Giovanni realized he should've been more careful, but he also realized that it didn't matter, that it was too late. Tilting his head slightly, he felt a jolt of pain and was forced to move it back. He had caught a glimpse of his chest, however, and it sickened him. Blood flowed out of clean-looking holes, staining the black suit. Well, he supposed it was. In the dark it was impossible to see blood on a black suit.
He felt the blood draining out of him, though. He hadn't known that it was possible to do so. Now he knew. It was a weakening feeling, as if energy was being drained swiftly and efficiently. That was what it was, though, wasn't it?
The pain didn't ebb, didn't recede. It became stronger, in fact. As the blood drained, he felt the sensations of agony begin to grow stronger. A growing stinging sensation inside of him had begun to form. It was deep down; something itched but couldn't be scratched. It hurt in a way that was impossible to console. There was no cure for the pain, and he knew it. This was the beginning of the end of pain.
His vision had begun to blur, but he could see the worry, the pain in Ashley's eyes as she bent down to look at him. She had screamed something moments before, and he hadn't caught it. Now she was looking at him, and he looked back at her.
"Giovanni, are you okay?" she spoke in a near-hysterical tone of voice; one that conveyed she knew perfectly well that he was not all right. No one who had just been shot was all right. No one who felt that deep stinging could ever be all right again.
"Ashley, I love you." He knew it was sentimental shit, but he said it anyway. He wanted her to fully understand that he loved her, wanted to be able to say it again before he left.
That deep itching had reached a point where it would've been unbearable if not for the pain. As it was, the pain was keeping him from going insane from the itch. Both were terrible, but together they made an incredibly painful yet understandable combination of tolerance.
"I love you too," she was crying again. It hurt him to see that, even if it was through the continuously blurring vision.
"Please don't cry," his voice came out choked, and he could feel his throat hitch with blood. The stinging was starting to recede, he realized, but that deeper pain, that one that was like nothing he had ever felt before, was beginning to come forward.
She didn't stop, but he realized that she was trying. God, was she sweet. "It'll be all right," she reached out a hand and ran it over the right side of his face.
It felt good to him, reminded him of how it had been. At the same time, however, it was a terrible sensation. Terrible because he felt it from a distance, as if he had been shot up with Novocain. Bad, that was bad. Because as he felt himself growing number, he could feel the deep pain advancing. And it wasn't coming slowly, either.
"Remember, Ashley, swear," he coughed hoarsely, unaware of anything but Ashley but her wonderful eyes, those eyes he could understand even in the haze of the world. They were despairing. "Swear that you'll remember…" His voice trailed off, and for a moment he didn't think he'd be able to finish. With a strong resolve, he forced himself to. "…that I've always loved you."
He heard her reply, heard her say she would, and than everything became nothing. There was nothing in his world, it was all a blank. The deep pain was overpowering all else, and though he didn't scream, he felt himself cringing at it. Because now he understood fully what that pain was, what it was leading too.
It washed over him swiftly, taking him with it. The white became gray; the gray became a darker gray. And than it came to black, to the darkness. There it was, the same darkness he had been living with. Now he could live with it forever and ever.
Ashley pulled Giovanni to her as she felt him slipping away. She didn't want him to go, not after she'd found him again, found the real Giovanni. But he was gone, and there was nothing in the world she could do about it.
Because once something was done, it couldn't be undone. She'd learned that well, and the past seemed to repeat itself endlessly in her life. She felt tears running down her face and didn't care. It hurt, oh God, it hurt.
"Gio…" she murmured unsteadily, almost whimpering as she did so. How could this have happened? She had never wanted it to be this way, never would have wished it. She had loved him, even after what had happened she had honestly loved him, and now he was gone forever.
And he was. She felt him stop, just like that, and she knew. He was gone forever. Giovanni was dead; there would be no more from him.
And just when they had found each other. Just when they had found their old love.
At that moment, everything hit Ashley at full force. All of it made sense, and everything was understandable. Understandable and unbearable. She put her head in her hands and began to sob.
Chapter 30
Officer Jenny stared at Harris Ragner in contempt, her eyes narrowing. The man had repeatedly stated that it had been an accident that he hadn't meant to kill Giovanni. Just shoot him. Make it so he couldn't get away.
She was angry. She was ticked. She was just plain pissed. How many times had everyone been told to take precautions? That killing wasn't the right way to go? They'd always been taught, from school to the Academy, to the office, that shooting first was a bad way to go about business.
This time it had gotten a man killed. Sure, he had been an escaped convict, and sure he had been the head of the Rockets, but he hadn't been meant to die. That had not been the way it was ordered, so that had been the wrong way to go.
Besides that, Ragner had flat out lied. He'd said he was going to save a cat instead of going to stake out at a house. Instead of saying he was going to try and find a criminal.
"Have fun," she spat at the man. He was seated on the bench of the back seat of the 'con truck,' his head lowered, looking extremely upset. Not that he didn't have reason. Jenny supposed that going to jail hadn't been on the man's list.
He'd have a trial, she reminded herself as she slammed the door shut and waved the truck away. He'd have one, and he'd get time, he'd never be an officer again, but what did that help? A man had been killed, after all.
That was the problem… everyone always got out. What was wrong with the world besides he justice system? At the moment, she wasn't sure.
It'd been a hard one, besides the man being killed and Ragner being taken off. There had been family involved, though Jenny couldn't figure out what the man had been doing at his wife's, or his ex-wife's, house. She'd never been a romantic person, and any ideas that might have entered the minds of others totally eluded her.
Apparently, the guy had been shot the moment he stepped out of the house. His wife had been in hysterics, apparently departed from the real world for the moment. The guy inside, the convict's brother, had made the call.
Jenny had gotten a force out there right away, only to find that the woman was still sobbing, and that Ragner was standing frozen by the road. The guy who had called, Geoffrey Oak, had been the one to receive the questioning after Ragner, and he had been the one who had given most of the information.
Strange guy. He'd struck Jenny as a bit odd from the moment she looked at him. Something was wrong with him, and she was immediately alert. He'd seemed upset, and she supposed she could understand, but she wondered what he was doing over there, anyway.
After he'd been questioned initially, she'd told him to stay in the area for further questions. He'd said he would, and she'd let him go for the moment. There were other things to attend to, after all.
A few minutes later, she realized what had struck her as wrong. The guy had looked like the one who'd been murderer, and that reminded her of what Ragner had said upon being questioned. He'd said that a guard from the Celadon Jailhouse had called, saying a man who looked like the one who escaped had choked him into unconsciousness. After that, Giovanni Oak had been gone.
At that moment it had all fallen together. Geoffrey had driven Giovanni to the house after breaking him out of jail. Simple as that, really.
Jenny had gotten a group together and sent them out to find Geoffrey, to make sure he was brought back. Not much to her surprise, they came back empty-handed. His car was still there, but he'd walked off just the same. No surprise.
She sighed, rubbing her forehead. Then there had been the Professor. Poor guy, having to go through something like that. He was such a sweet old man, too. Everyone seemed to like him, and now he had this with him.
It had to hurt, Jenny thought. At least, to see his son dead. Maybe not to have reported him, because Giovanni had been, after all, an escaped criminal. But to see him dead… She didn't know how he'd been able to stand it.
Part of her knew that he'd been close to losing it. He'd looked shaken, had even started to shiver a little despite the warm air. Everything had been off, but that was the way she had expected it to be.
She'd asked him to wait for a few minutes while she questioned Ashley, and he had obliged, saying he'd take a walk around the house. She hadn't doubted him, only felt that pity for him.
The pity had been stronger for Ashley Ketchum, or Ashley Oak, however. The poor woman had seen her husband shot down in front of her… After questioning, Jenny had determined that the woman was innocent. Innocent, confused, and afraid.
The whole story had been flooded with tears, and barely understandable. It had taken all of her willpower not to give up immediately and escort Ashley to a seat. Official business, though. It had to be done.
Now the woman was sitting up on the porch, still crying silently, gazing into the night. Jenny sighed again, turning to the task forces to see what, if anything, they'd turned up. Sometimes she hated her job.
Ashley tried to keep the tears from drowning her, and that was the best she could do. Everything had become lost in a fuzzy semi-reality. All she knew for sure was that Giovanni was dead, that he had been shot, that…
Geoffrey had told her the story, though she had been crying all the while. She supposed he'd been trying to keep her from losing it completely, and she supposed that he had succeeded.
A few times, a few painful times, she had nearly given up. At those points her mind had been thrown into a wild whirlwind that didn't care whether she lived or died. It was the end, the point of giving in.
If not for Geoffrey talking, trying to get her to listen, she didn't think she would've made it. It had hurt, because oh God oh God…
He'd loved her! After all that time, after everything he'd done, he had loved her! And he'd realized it, she had known. He'd loved her, and shouldn't she have known?
Now she regretted her decisions. Regretted leaving him, because she thought that maybe this never would've happened. Somewhere inside she knew it wouldn't have done any good, she couldn't have stayed, but it seemed better, because it was an alternate.
Why was life so cruel? First it had torn them apart by Giovanni's need for power, by his blindness, and then by a man who had shot too soon, who had acted foolishly. She hated life, hated fate, hated any higher power, and wanted to spit on all of it.
She wiped a stream of tears that had been flowing down her cheek, put her arm down, ignoring the fact the stream continued and became unbroken once more. Tears didn't matter. They didn't help, either. They were natural, though.
There was never enough time in life, and you never knew what was going to happen. That was the big problem. What was she supposed to do? He was gone now. Before she had always held out hope.
Yes, always. Even in those dark hours when she'd been sure she'd never seen him. Even after that time she'd caught a glimpse of him, only a glimpse, she'd held out hope. Because hope had been available.
Now there was no hope…
No. Ashley wiped the tears away, and this time the stream slowed slightly. There was still her son to think of, after all. He couldn't raise himself. Maybe someday she'd even find Ginger. So there was a reason.
It still hurt, though. It'd always hurt. A thorn in her side, a stitch in her mind. It'd always be there, because he'd died right beside her, he'd died loving her…
"Ashley?" she heard a voice and looked over to see the Professor, his haggard face pale in the moonlight.
Suddenly, she was angry at him. "You killed him," she spoke dryly, barely able to get the words out.
"It's not like that…" he began, and she saw him struggling with himself. So he did know.
"It is so!" she sat up straight, glaring at him. He took a step backwards, though she didn't notice. "He was right, always right. I told him he over exaggerated, but you're terrible! Go away!"
She felt the tears coming on again, because it was true. Ever since she Giovanni, he'd told her about how the Professor was an asshole, how he always made terrible choices…
"It was hereditary," a voice whispered, and she began to sob again. This not hopelessly, this time because of the pain.
She didn't notice the Professor slink off, shaken, didn't notice the officers milling about, looking at her strangely or with understanding. To her, that was all gone for a moment. To her, what mattered was the pain. That pain she would carry forever.
Edward Oak stepped off of the step hard and felt a jolt of pain creep through his leg. He ignored it, however, because what Ashley had said had hurt worse. Hurt because it was true, because he was terrible, and always been terrible, and no one had known.
He had no family. He had to accept that now. One of his sons was dead, the other obviously detested him. His daughter in law was the same. Grandsons? What did that matter? Like parents, like kids.
Why was he such an asshole? He didn't know, and that was the problem. If he did know, then maybe he could've stopped it a long time ago. Maybe he could've fixed it before, before…
Before it was too late. Now it was too late. Dead, dead, Giovanni was dead, and he had made the call. It had seemed harmless, had seemed helpful. It had seemed right.
That was the problem... everything seemed right at first. Than it took off its mask and revealed the dirty hateful beast underneath. That was when he knew he'd done wrong, and always it had been too late.
He hated himself. He hated himself, and anyone who knew his true self hated him, too. They all hated him, hated him intensely, and he didn't blame them.
Suddenly he wanted, no, needed a drink. It'd been years since he'd touched the shit, because he'd given it up and wanted to stay away. Now he thought he needed it. Why not just get wasted and forget about everything?
It sounded like a damned good idea. He couldn't leave yet, but hen he did he'd go find an old bottle and drink himself out of it. Hell, maybe it'd kill him. No loss there.
He headed towards the back of the house. Maybe there wouldn't be anyone back there. Maybe he could be alone, just think, just…
There was a rustling noise from the bushes on the side. He looked over quickly and saw someone walking over to him. "Hello?" he called tiredly, in a careless tone.
"Asshole," the man in the shadows growled, and suddenly Ed understood.
"Geoff…" he began, but was cut off as his world exploded into a flash of white, than faded into black.
"He punched me," he thought dimly. "Knocked me down. Because he hates me, they all hate me…"
As he felt himself slip into unconsciousness, Ed figured he had completely deserved it.
Walking away swiftly, Geoffrey shook his head vigorously, trying to understand, trying to make sense of everything. Giovanni was dead. Had it been his fault? Maybe. He'd gotten him out of jail, after all.
Did it matter, though? Because it would've been death anyway. Only worse, because it would've been alone. But maybe… maybe…
He didn't know. Was it his fault? Had he done wrong? It hadn't seemed wrong when he'd considered it. It's seemed right, and somehow it still did.
Geoffrey had been the one to dial for the police, for the medics. It didn't matter if they knew, because the damned Professor had called already. So Giovanni had been shot, and Ashley had gone into a near-hysterical state…
Confusing. It was all so confusing. Why the hell did everything have to be so confusing? Was he right or wrong?
What he knew was that he had to get out of there. Because once Jenny had questioned him, he had honestly realized that he was a criminal himself. That meant he had to stay away from the law. How funny. He'd gone from working with the law to running from it in less than a week.
He'd been walking away when he realized he had to do something before he left. Someone deserved something, had it coming to them. He had wanted to help Ashley first, but it was too late. He'd seen that look in Jenny's eyes, the one that said she was realizing what was happening.
So he'd waited in back, knowing somehow that the Professor would show up. When the asshole had shown up, Geoffrey had knocked him out, simple as that. Just punch him in the jaw and down he went.
That hadn't bothered him, the part about knocking out his father. What bothered him was the look of confusion, visible in the moonlight, in the Professor's eyes that had bothered him. He'd seen that look in his own eyes…
Alike. Was he too much like the Professor? God, no, couldn't be. Couldn't, just couldn't… But there was too much there, oh God he didn't want to think about it.
"Alcoholism, confusion, stupidity…" he muttered absently, trying to take his mind off the subject. It didn't matter at the moment. What mattered was that he had to leave, had to hide.
It had all gone wrong. Why was life such a bitch? Why had it turned out as it had?
Now he didn't know where to go, didn't know what to do. He didn't think any of them, himself, Ashley, even the Professor, knew. Because it was confusing, because it had happened too fast, because life was too full of mistakes. And mistakes could be deadly. Geoffrey's mind registered this tiredly, and he sighed. Nothing, there was absolutely nothing…
He sighed, starting away from town, into the darkness. Into the nothingness he knew would be the rest of his life.