Failings of the Fathers: 61

He held her until she was seemingly cried out, and tears streamed without the decimating sobs.  She caught her breath, and looked into his eyes, and he into hers.  She kissed him with everything she had left, and he tasted her tears on her lips.  She said, "Some welcome home, huh?"

"I should have been here," he said, regretfully.

"You couldn't have.  Aiden."

He kissed the tip of her nose, and ran his hand over her hair.  "I should have been here to protect my kids."

"You didn't know, and we need you now.  You'll have to worry about guilt later."

"How's my little girl," he said, looking at the basket right next to his head on the chair.

"She's beautiful," Blair's voice cracked.  "She's strong and perfect like her Dad."

"If she's strong and perfect, then she's like her Mom."

"Todd, my baby boy," she said, starting to cry again.  He brought her back close to him, and she rested her head on his shoulder and wept.  

He swallowed, determined not to succumb to his own despair.  "He'll be back.  I'll find him, whatever it takes."

"I just feel . . . so much better when you're here.  Like maybe you can make everything okay."

"Not everything."  His own tears ran, and he didn't try and stop them.  She looked up to his face, and this time, brushed his tears with her thumbs, the way he always did for her.  

He said, "I'd brush yours away, but there are just too many to keep up with."

"I know," she said.  "I just can't stop."

"You will," he said, touching her face, "you will when you can."

"How's your brother?"

"The same."

"Where's Ray, Todd?  Is he okay?  Is he, alive?  Will we ever see him . . ."  she cried again, and their foreheads touched.

"We'll see him again, and chase his little ass all around the yard.  He'll be back." He was afraid to ask her his next question.  "Blair, is Starr all right?"

"She's . . . unconscious.  She's beaten up pretty badly."  

Jewel made a small contented noise from her basket.  He said, "I want to see Jewel, and then, I want to see my other little girl."

Blair touched his cheek, her fingers once again lingering on the scar, as they always did.  "Todd, she . . . looks pretty bad."

"It's my Shorty, Blair," his voice cracked.  "However she looks, I have to see her."  He reached and lifted the basket gently.  His tiny daughter was awake, not sleeping as they had thought.  He rested the basket on the floor next to them both and brought her out, putting her onto his shoulder and chest, and she rested there, like a small bag of flour, against him.  Blair put her hand on her daughter's back, and one of Todd's tears fell onto it.  He said, "Hey, little girl.  Don't even think of dating for fifty years."  He kissed her head, and put his hand over Blair's on Jewel's back.  Blair finally closed her eyes, her head resting on Todd's chest next to Jewel.  He stroked Blair's hair, and rested his chin on her head.  Looking past her, he could only see vengeance against Malcolm Carlisle - or whoever he was - as they rested against the wall in the emergency room.

***

Tina looked up from Aiden's bedside.  "It's been days," she said to Timothy.

"Ay."

"Where's Sister?"

"She's at the chapel.  I left her there and wanted to see him.  Ya know, I missed out on his death, when he was a child and I thought he died.  I was dragged away from the shooting and never able to hold his hand while he suffered.  Then, I missed out on his life.  I will tell ya, I am glad that I am here, now, whatever this holds."

Tina cried.  

Timothy came to her side, and sitting in the second chair, put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in.  She said, "He's not going to die, is he?"

"I don't know.  There's never an answer to these questions.  Who knew my grandson would be kidnapped by a maniac, and that my granddaughter beaten to within and ounce of her life?  Life is filled with unknowns, it is."

"I'm so sorry about the children.  All of them are beautiful."

He didn't answer her, just remained stolid, and they both looked back to Aiden.  

She said, "What if he never wakes?"

"Then, he never wakes."  Timothy said.

"I wanted to ask you, about Malcolm.  Do you really think . . ."

"No," he interrupted her.  "I don't."

"Then, what?"

"I can't say.  But I am working on it, up here."  He pointed to his temple.

***

Todd, Blair and Jewel made their way back to the lobby, so Blair could give the baby to Dorian, and go see Sam, while Todd went to see Starr.  Dorian was awake, Jack with his arm around Jenna, was sleeping, and so, finally, was the girl.

"So, you've arrived,"  Dorian said to Todd.  She was venomous, before saying much.

"Yeah, I just got here a little while ago.  I wanted to go straight to my wife."

"Too bad you weren't thinking of her when you left in the first place.  And then, sending a stranger into your family's midst, and allowing this to happen?  After all they've been through because of you, it wasn't enough?"  She was standing, and shouting.  Jack and Jenna woke, and the few people who were in the hospital waiting room at that hour, looked over.

Blair, having placed the basket on Jenna's lap, stepped forward and slapped her aunt.  The impact of her hand on the woman's cheek made a decidedly pointed sound.  She pointed her finger at Dorian, and Todd tugged at her sleeve, saying, "Blair, no, don't," softly.

Blair pulled away from Todd's attempt at restraining her, and pointed again.  "You don't talk to my husband that way ever again.  You think he wanted anything like this to happen?"  her voice was filled with utter horror.

"Blair," he raised his voice.  She stopped and looked at him.  "Stop.  She's right, just stop."

"She's not right, Todd.  She's not, and she's never been.  All the way back to when she tried to take Starr from you, until today."

"Blair," he said again, and his hand was on the back of her head, "Babe, stop.  Come on," he said, and she fell against him, sobbing.  He said, "Dorian, she's . . . in pain, without her son.  And you're right, everyone knows whose fault this is."

Dorian was still standing, with her hand on the cheek that was struck.  Her face was one of astonishment.  She, in her embarrassment, walked off to the ladies' room.  Todd walked Blair to the chairs, near Jack and Jenna, and sat her down.  She leaned against him, still crying.  At this point, her eyes were swollen and red around the edges.

Jack said, "Dad."

"Hi, Jack," Todd said, and he wanted to embrace his son, but had his arms full with Blair.  "Don't say a thing, Son.  This is no one's fault but mine."

"I was supposed to babysit."

"No, I was supposed to take care of my family.  No more, okay?"

"I'm . . . just glad you're here."

"Me, too, Buddy."  He motioned with his free arm, and the boy got up and went to him, leaning in for his father's support.  Todd said, "Let's put this family together, all right?"

Blair sat up, "Can you go with me to see Sam?  He . . . can't talk.  He wants to, but he's in shock."

"Of course, I want to see him.  Then, I'm going to see Starr."

Blair knew she couldn't stop him from going to see her, but wished she could.  Starr's battered face, swollen cheek, and bruises would make him see more red, and she knew it.

The two parents got up, leaving Jewel in capable hands, and went to Sam's cubicle.

Blair opened the curtain, and her son was awake, staring off.  Clearly, he was reviewing the traumatic events of the kidnapping, and turned to her when she came in.  She said, "Hey, Big Guy, I have someone who wants to see you."

Sam pushed himself up on the bed a little, so that he was more upright.  The curtain pushed open and Todd revealed himself.  Sam's face immediately lit up, with joy, and then twisted into sadness, as he held his arms out to his father.  Todd went directly to him and held him against his chest.  Sam, crying, said, "Dad."

"Yeah, Bud.  It's me."

"Dad."

"I know, it's all right."

Blair covered her mouth, and her tears came back.

After a few minutes, Sam pulled back from Todd and said, "Dad, the bad man got Ray.  He killed Mixie.  He beat Starr up.  He made me wet my pants, and I ran and hid because Starr told me to."

Blair sighed in relief; her son was talking.

"Well, I'm glad you listened to her.  You're always a good listener, Sam."  Todd said, attempting to mask his burning hate for the man who hurt his family.

"He was real mean."

"I know.  I'm sorry that you had to experience that.  Did the man say anything, you know, weird?"

"I don't know."

"It's okay.  You don't have to think about it."  Todd said, hugging him to his chest again.

Blair stepped forward.  "How about your old Mom?  Can she get in on the action?"

"Mom!"  Sam said, and fell into her arms, crying and talking, and she comforted him and rocked him. 

Todd saw this as his perfect chance to leave and go to Starr.  He wasn't sure he was ready, but he wanted to see her breathe, and know she was still part of his world.

He opened the curtain to her area, and almost turned away.  Instead, he made himself look; he wanted to see what had been done to her.  The purple, swollen side of her face was a stark, disturbing contrast to the angelic, ivory side.  The latter was closer to him.  He went to her bed, and sat in the chair.  At first, he sank back, as if exhausted, and just looked at her.  Next, he leaned forward, and touched her hair as gently as he could, and said, "Shorty?"  Last, he broke down and put his head onto the thin hospital mattress.  He didn't care who heard him, or who saw.  He wept openly, until he felt a light touch on his head.  He looked up, and she was petting him, and looking back.  

She said, "No," in a throaty voice.  Then, "water?"

He handed her the cup with the straw that was next to her bed, and she drank a little.  He wiped his tears with his sleeve, and she said, "No, Dad."

"Starr," he said, touching her hair, lightly.  "Shorty, I . . ."

"I'm okay.  Tired."

He nodded.

She said, "Listen.  He . . . took Ray."

"I know," he said, and of course, his tears would not obey his command to stay back.

"He . . . was laughing."

He swallowed.  He wasn't sure he wanted to hear, but she'd asked him to.  He would do as his daughter wanted.  

Mommy's the prettiest . . .

"He was going to take Sam, too."  She spoke slow and laboriously, one word at a time.  "He didn't see Jewel because of the basket."

"Lucky thing."

"Yes."  She licked her lips.  "I tried."

"I know.  Maybe you should rest and stop talking a while?"

"No." That was more forceful.  "No, Dad.  Listen."

"I am listening," he said, sweetly, and as much as he wanted the tears to stop, they came continuously.

"He was too big.  Tall.  Taller than you."

Todd squinted, looking off to the side for a moment.  She repeated, "Taller than you.  Like Shaun, almost."

He was puzzled.  Perhaps she was wrong.  She could have misjudged.  She went on, "Big hands, long arms.  Big hands."

It wasn't Malcolm.  Whoever that was, was not Malcolm Carlisle.

"He . . ." she stopped, mid-sentence, and tears ran down her face.

Todd was afraid.  He didn't want to hear that she was abused, or used, by this sick maniac.  He was afraid, but she wanted to tell him everything.

"He backhanded me, punched, and kicked.  That's all."

He sighed out, and leaned in to kiss her forehead.  He was as gentle as possible, as not to hurt her.

"Dad, Sam?"

"He's okay."

"No, Dad, Sam . . . saw something."

He wiped his tears, again with his sleeve.  "What?  What did he see?"

"He saw . . ." she swallowed, and Todd gave her the water again.  She sipped.  "He saw the man kill Mixie."

Todd's stomach turned.  He forced himself not to spew last night's Chinese on the emergency room floor.  The only image he could see, in his mind, was his father, Peter Manning, leaning over and giving Patches a treat.

"He . . . tricked Mixie into trusting him."

No.  No fucking way.  No.

"How did he do that?"

"He had something . . . in his pocket."

Todd felt bile rising in his throat.  He said, "What else, Starr?  Is there more, Shorty?"  he was tender, but now, determined.

"He . . . picked up Mixie and broke his neck."

Todd closed his eyes.

Peter said, "Come outside, I want to show you something."

Todd just looked at him, from the kitchen table.  Bitsy was quietly eating.

"I said now!"  Peter boomed.  Todd followed him.

He knelt down near the woodline and held out a small can of tuna, slightly opened.  From the trees came the small, black cat with white patches of fur that Todd had been feeding.  The cat came closer and started to eat the tuna from the can, just as he had done other times, at Todd's doing.

Without warning, Peter snatched the cat up, and snapped its neck like a small branch, while Todd watched.  He let go of his water in his pants.  Peter put the cat down, and strangely, pet it one last time.  He turned to Todd and said, "That will be you and your mother, next time you want to give away my hard earned money to a stray," he said, and walked away.

"He . . . twisted it, and we heard it.  Dad?"  she said.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"He killed Mixie and Sam saw."  Her words were still deliberate and her voice, husky and strained.

"Did you notice his accent?"  Todd asked.

She appeared puzzled.  "No accent."

He breathed in, ire building in his chest.  "What else, Shorty?  What else did he do?"  His voice was different now.  No tears.  He was flat, methodical.  "Okay, it's okay, now."

"The dog . . . he went limp.  The man dropped him to the ground, and petted him.  But . . . Dad . . . he was dead."

Todd, unable to contain himself, pushed the chair back from her, saying, "I'm going to get your baby brother," and raced out of the cubicle.  She didn't call after him, she just closed her eyes, and two single tears rolled onto her face.

***

Blair was still holding Sam, and he was in the mood to talk, almost like a compulsion.  He said, "Mom, that guy was weird, I always knew he was."

"What do you mean, Sam?"

"I told Jack he was weird.  I just knew it.  His eyes never smiled."

Blair, how could YOU not see these things?

"What did he do that was weird?"

"He killed Mixie," Sam started to cry.  "He took his head and broke it."

She swallowed, realizing how horrific the day had been for her son, and for her daughter.  She said, "That was mean, wasn't it?"

"Yeah.  He petted him, too, when he put him down."

She felt sick.  Petting the dog, after its death. . ."Anything else?"

"No.  Just that the other day, I figured out he was weird, when he asked me to go into his cottage and have lemonade."

Her heart leaped into her throat.  "He . . . what?"

"He asked me to go have lemonade with him in his cottage.  And I said, 'no thanks,' and he said, 'what about soda or milk and cookies?' and I said 'no.'"

She contained herself.  "That was very smart to do, but you should have told Mommy that."

"I just went in the house and told Jack the guy was weird.  I didn't tell about the cottage, though.  I told Shaun, too.  Just about him being weird."

This wasn't Malcolm at all.  This was someone else.

"He knew Dad."

"Yes, well, he . . . how do you know he knew Dad?"

He started to cry again, "He was beating up Starr, bad, and she talked back, and he said, she was just like her father."

Blair, alarmed, hugged her son, and kissed his cheeks, each in turn.  She said, "No more about this, right now, I'll be right back, okay?"

She stepped out of the cubicle.  The image of Bitsy's latest drawing, the one she was making at the lake, popped back into her mind.  And then, one by one, she remembered Bitsy's other drawings.  The little boy, with the man, with the bat.  The little boy . . . that looked like Todd.  

She knew, she knew something was going to happen.  She . . . Oh my God!

Blair went to Starr's bedside to find and tell Todd, and when she saw he was gone, she said, "No!" aloud.  Starr opened her eyes.  Blair said, "Hey, beautiful girl, you okay?"

"Dad.  Was here."

"Yes, I know.  Where is he, Starr?"

"He . . . ran out.  He . . . went to get Ray."

"My God," Blair said.

"I told him . . . everything.  He asked me if the man had an accent."

Blair knew he didn't.

"I told him, how he killed the dog.  With his hands, Mom."

"Starr, I have to go.  I . . . have to take care of something.  I'll be back, and Dorian is here.  I love you."

"Mom, don't let Dad . . . don't let him leave us."

"I won't, Precious."

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