The Way Back: Chapter 36 (some adult content)

Blair woke up in the hospital.  She was feeling groggy and confused.  "Todd?"  She called out.  Starr walked to the bedside.  "No, Mom, it's me."

"Where's your father?"  She asked with closed, weepy eyes.

"I don't know, Mom."

"Where is he?" she whispered, crying.  Her daughter took her hand.

"Mom, you have to rest.  You've been...you've been drugged."

"I know," she absently touched her needle marks.  "Oh God, Starr.  They took him."

Starr blinked back tears.  "We don't know that.  We don't."  Denial.  Great, Starr.  Way to help your mother.   But Dad...

John McBain entered the hospital room cautiously.  "Can I come in?"

"Oh John," she cried, beginning to sob.  He held her.  Then, pulling back, she said, "Please, John, please find him.  Please?"  Inconsolable, she sobbed, and pulled at her tubes in desperation.  "If you won't, I will."

"Blair, please, lie back.  You're in no condition to go anywhere."  John said, gently pushing her back.

Larry Wolek came through the door, just in time, "He's right Blair.  I have something to talk to you about."

John got off the bed where he was seated, and started to leave.  Blair spoke, "John, stay."  He obliged, standing behind Starr.

Larry put his hand on Blair's hands that were crossed over her belly.  "Well, you were drugged.  We did some tests.  There's no long-term damage to you in any way.  You're going to be just fine."

She interrupted.  "I won't be fine, ever, if Todd isn't found.  Larry, he didn't leave us.  He promised us to never leave us again.  He was taken."

John spoke up, "That's highly likely, Blair.  Someone drugged you so that you weren't aware of what was going on and couldn't help him."

"There's something else," Larry said.  "Blair, you're about 6 weeks pregnant."

She looked at Larry with disbelief and a happiness Starr had rarely seen in the last few months.  Then, she immediately starting sobbing.  "Todd."

Larry smoothed her hair on the left side of her face, "I know, I'm so sorry Blair, but you know you will see him again, and he will be all right.  Todd Manning has more lives than a cat."

She smiled, and laughed through tears.  "He does, doesn't he?"  But, what about what they are doing to him?  What they are doing right now?  How they are torturing him?  What pain they could be putting him through?  "But will he come back to us whole?  It's taken so long for him to try and get past it all."  She paused, "What about the baby?  The drugs?  Are they going to hurt the baby?"

"No, they aren't.  The dose was too small."

John chimed in, "We're figuring whoever was drugging you was interrupted."  He was silent a moment, then, "Probably by Todd."

"He was saving me."  She closed her eyes, and then sprung them open.  "Oh my God.  I remember something."

John sat at the foot of the bed.  "Go on."

"I remember, I was woken up, and I thought it was Todd, and then I heard a voice say, 'Slice and Dice' right before I drifted off to sleep again.  Oh my God, John.  They were there.  They have him.  Again.  Oh my God," she covered her mouth and sobbed.

Starr also started sobbing, and sat by her mother and threw herself into her arms.  Larry was puzzled, wondering why they would be so afraid.  Both women cried, and John informed Larry who 'Slice and Dice' referred to.  Larry said, "My God.  Now, Blair, you can't get yourself too upset.  You're carrying Todd's child, the most important thing is to keep that baby healthy.  It will be important to him when he gets back.  It sounds to me like he fought really hard to get back to you, against a lot of odds.  He'll be back."

"Right," John said.  "It will give him something to get well for.  He's strong, Blair.  He will be okay."

Blair sniffled, as the conversation leaned toward the baby and the upcoming things the family would go through.  Starr held her mother's hand, and Larry headed to his next stop.  John got up to leave.  "John?"  she called.

"Yes Blair?"

"I know a way you might get some clues to where he is.  How about Ray, his therapist?  Maybe he has some insight into who took Todd and where he is."

"All right, I'll check that out.  Mountainview, right?"

"Yes, thank you.  But please, John, find my husband.  I mean, my Todd."

"I'll find your husband, Blair.  Don't you worry, we're on it."

***

Burly came into the room with a small tray.  It was the same thing it always had been, day in and day out for the last eight years, and it would be again, for however long it took.  The tray had a small white cup, and a small white bowl.  In the bowl was a simple mixture of boiled chicken and boiled rice with a small amount of salt.  In the cup was water with lemon in it.  It had been his diet, with a few exceptions, for the entire time of his captivity.

Burly put the tray down.  "Time to eat."

Nothing.

"You know you're hungry, you always were."

Nothing.

"Todd, if you don't eat, you know what they'll do.  They'll let you go a few days, and then they'll find a way to feed you."

He looked at the man he was "caretaking" and as the good cop in the good-cop-bad-cop scenario, he crouched in front of him, attempting to bring his one good eye in line with Todd's.  "Todd, hey?  Can you hear me?"

Baker came in behind him.  "He's back to this, eh?"

Burly looked up.  "Maybe if you hadn't sent in Mac, he wouldn't be.  What does he call him?  The Slice and Dice?"

"Look at you,"  Baker said, "he gives you pet names, like animals.  And you recite them.  He's quite an inventive and brilliant man.  Such a waste.  The boss has such diabolical things awaiting him.  He's destined to snap without return this time."

Burly looked back to Todd who had not moved.  He could see the irritation around the wrist bands.  "So, Baker, since he's incapacitated, do we keep him banded to this chair, or move him to the bed to rest?"

"He stays.  He's cunning.  At this point, he could easily be faking this.  We'll have to test him before moving him."

Burly knew what the tests would be, and a feeling within his gut brought bile up.  None of it had ever sat well with him, but agreeing years back to be part of this grand scheme for money and power via the Men of 21, he couldn't get out or balk.  It would mean his death and the death of anyone he held dear on the outside.  Slow, agonizing death.  "Why don't you just bring him out of it, instead?  Why test him, torment him?  Sometimes I think you love that kind of thing, Baker."

Baker leaned against the wall.  "You certainly have me wrong.  To me, it's business.  Now there are men in here, as you know very well, that take enjoyment in what they do to the 'clients.'  There are men who are gratified by his cries.  I happen not to be one of them."  He pushed himself off the wall, "I pity him, yes, but it's business." He sighed, "Business is business, and Mr. Manning has information that we need to get from him.  Our esteemed boss has a secret weapon.  Believe me, Mr. Manning will talk.  Then, we can set him free."  Baker walked off and exited through the door.

Burly also knew what that meant.  It never meant "let him go."  In all the years he knew these men, "let him go" was a rarity; an anomaly, more so.  "Set him free," was more common, and meant something entirely different.  He'd be executed.  The boss would choose which man got to do it, and that man would have been the most faithful throughout.  He would be able to kill him however and in whatever time period he chose. 

***

He came through to door while Tea was sitting in the living room, staring out to the patio.  He waltzed in, as if nothing had happened between them.  "I'm home!"  She stared at him as he walked toward her, and immediately she felt something was wrong.  He had left her angry, tortured, emotional; and here he was, smiling, almost bouncing, manic.  Unable to get on her feet to properly greet him and look in his eyes, Tea covered hers with her hand as her forehead perched on it.

"You're home.  I see,"  Then she looked up at him, "but, you left me.   You know you broke an important promise to me."

"I'm here, what's the difference?"

She wasn't sure what to say to that; he had only been gone less than 24 hours, but her goal was to find out once and for all where he was and who he was with.  The charade was over, for her.

"The difference is, you promised.  You knew what it meant to me to have someone leave, and you did it anyway."  Tea had told herself that her voice would stay calm and she wouldn't give in to the passionate arguing they were used to.

"I needed some air.  I just wanted to get my head together.  Now, come here."  He extended his arms to her.  Then, he looked at her, leg up on the ottoman, in a full cast.  It was decorated with little pictures by Dani.  "I guess you can't come here, can you?"

She smiled in spite of everything.  "No."

He sat beside her on the couch, and took her into his arms.  She melted like wax under flame for a moment.  He stroked her hair.  "You know I love you, Mrs. Manning."

She pulled back from him.  "When are you going to stop?  You know as well as I that you are not Todd Manning.  You don't have to lie anymore.  I've told you, I know, I've known and I love you.  You.  I just want the truth.  I want the why and who you are."

He blinked.  "You're hurting me.  You know about the DNA test.  I am Todd Manning, and you, as my wife, need to back me on this.  Don't betray me."

"Why?  You going to kill me?  You going to disappear?"  Her voice was calm but her resolve was knife-sharp.  "I have no reason to back you on something I know is not true and that I don't care about anymore.  When I first saw you, almost 4 years ago, and heard the name Todd Manning mixed with that face, I doubted.  But then, Blair, Starr and others convinced me, along with you, that you were that man."  He sat, staring into her face.  He decided to give her a chance to say what she suspected and then set her straight.  He was Todd.

"Then, I started to feel those old feelings.  Todd was someone that I couldn't have.  He was the man who never chose me, and always used me for one reason or another.  But now, he was looking at me, differently.  He was wanting me."  She looked into his eyes.  "You wanted me.  You chose me.  And even after we made love the first time, all over that foyer, passionate, hot, not a single hang-up; against the wall, on the floor, later in court, I knew deep down that was not Todd who had made love to me, but I didn't care.  Because selfishly, I wanted him to choose me over Blair at last.  I gloated in that inside my heart."  She broke a little, and he saw her try and recover.

He didn't flinch or speak.  He took his hand and traced the hair along her face.  He drew his finger off the end of her locks and traced over her collarbone and her breast and down to her hand, that was sitting in her lap idly.  He took it.  "I am here.  I did choose.  I chose you."

"You chose me, yes.  Todd didn't.  You don't have a reason to lie to me anymore.  I don't care who you are.  I just want to know.  I just want to have you and know you.  I'd also like to know why you took his life, but I don't have to know that if you don't want me to.  Me."  She laughed, "I can't believe I said that, but it's true," she began to cry, "I don't even need to know why you did it.  I just want to know who you are."

He was still holding her hand, and he took it and raised it to his lips.  He ran his tongue along her palm while looking at her.  She squirmed, unable to pull her hand away.  "That's easy.  I'm the man who loves you.  I'm the man who always loved you.  I'm Todd."

She watched him kiss her palm and use his tongue to work bewitchment.  His eyes never left hers, and he traced little circles on the underside of her hand like a carefully planned design.  Still staring at her, he drew his tongue down to her wrist and sucked there for a moment, gently at first, then harder, and moved his mouth down the length of her arm, drawing little patterns with the tip of his tongue, until he came to her shoulder, where he carefully bit down with a small amount of pressure, and her eyelids fluttered, and she succumbed, tilting her head.  He went to her neck as invited, using his teeth on her skin, and began to suck on her neck while in one graceful movement, he'd slid his hand inside her lounge pants, and rubbed at her with his middle finger.

His mouth still on her neck, he used her favorite combination of teeth and tongue and lips, while positioning her carefully in light of her leg, so that she was open to him.  Still bringing the blood to the surface and destined to leave a mark on her neck, he didn't cease, working her with his fingers until her chest was heaving rapidly.  He moved his hand the way he'd learned - the way she had taught him with her cries and her own movements - and soon, she moaned and pushed herself toward him as she peaked against his hand.  He lightened his mouthwork on her neck, and kissed a path to her mouth, putting his tongue inside her lips and leaving behind the red bruise he had just created.  She responded, and pulled her to him.

He spoke through the kisses.  "I make you feel the way no one has," he whispered along her lips.

"I know," she said kissing him in return.

"I love you the way you want to be loved.  I love you the way you deserve."

"Yes," she said, running her hands up his back.

"I'm going to carry you up those stairs right there, and lay you on our bed, and show you."

Pulling back from her, he looked right into her eyes, as if seeing her soul.  She stared back, searching.  "Show me?"

"Always.  I show you every day, and I love showing you.  I want to spend the rest of my life showing you."  In one fell swoop, he lifted her from the couch, and, cast dangling, he held her as she rested her head on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck.  She was crying, but she forgot why as he gently set her on their bed, and lowered her satin lounge pants.  Her cast was in the way, and they both laughed.

She sat up and tore his shirt open in the front.  She knew one move like that would get him going the way she loved it.  She loved him.  She ripped it open, sending buttons flying, and he took her cue and helped get it off him, exposing his chest and arms, and he wildly went toward her so they could join the way they practiced and loved.  Suddenly, she pushed him off her.  "What is that?"  She asked, taking his hand and turning it.  There on his wrist was a bracelet of burns.  She grabbed his other hand, "Oh my God?  What are these burns?  Where did you get them."

He looked at her blankly.  "I..."

"Answer me, please, Querido."

"I don't know," he said.  And for the first time in a while, he was telling her the truth. 

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