Out of Darkness

Stronger For It

I spent most of dinner watching her for signs of distress.  My brothers were all treating her with kid gloves, and I could see the indignation in her boiling to a head.  If my estimations were correct, it wouldn't be long now.  I watch Mr. Coleman drop his fork, and accidentally bump into her thigh when he goes to retrieve it. He blanches.

"Shit, sorry, Sang!  I'm such a fucking clutz!"  He scurries away from her as though burned, "I'll just go and sit next to Kota so that you can have some space."

Here it comes.  She shoves her chair back with enough force that it topples to the ground.  She glares at the boys and growls through a clenched jaw in a way that would give the younger Mr. Taylor a run for his money, were he not currently petrified where he sits.

"I'm not some stupid," she pierces Mr. Griffin with a look, "delicate," and then Mr. Coleman...she pauses, working up her nerve, "fucking," she glares at Mr. Taylor, "snowflake!"

She throws her hands up into the air and looks at me. They are all motionless as her words take root. Good girl.

"Mr. Blackbourne is the only one who is still treating me like I'm ME!  I'm sorry about earlier!  I'm sorry I lost it!"  She begins to cry while trembling with rage.  She is fierce indeed.  "Don't treat me like I'm broken...just don't...please?"

I rise to my feet.

"Everybody except Sean, OUT!"

I watch as they shuffle towards the living room. I motion for Miss Sorensen and Sean to join me in the kitchen, where we will have a modicum of privacy, and Sean can introduce her to the ice cream he has stashed in his freezer.

***

Now that we're alone, my strength flees and my knees begin to shake. I push my finger to my mouth and wonder if I've overstepped myself. I lean against the counter for support, and I struggle to get my breath under control.  Dr. Green pulls out a bar stool for me and I sigh and sit.

"Miss Sorensen," I look up at Mr. Blackbourne, "I'm afraid that I owe you a debt of gratitude."

I start. I was certain that he would berate me for my rant at the table, but thanks? I'm confused.

"I don't understand," I tell him. "What do you mean?"

He appears to be choosing his words carefully, the silver in his gaze glinting as he reaches some unfathomable conclusion.

"I've been preoccupied, and have let the boys become too familiar without explaining to them how to react to one in your particular situation." He pinches the bridge of his nose, "They mean well, but do not know how to proceed."

I mull over his words. "Do you?" I whisper down into my hands. I'm afraid to challenge his assurances, but I have to know. I trace the grout lines on the counter top, wishing I could take it back.

"Honestly, Miss Sorensen, you astound me," my head snaps up at his declaration, and Dr. Green drops the container he is retrieving from the freezer. "In your situation, most would have lost themselves in the darkness. You, my dear, have shown remarkable strength, and though you struggle, you reach out wholeheartedly for the life you've been denied. You stand up for yourself, and you display an uncanny sense of empathy and compassion."

I'm pretty sure that I'm about to wake up any moment. People don't talk to me like this. Dr. Green offers me a spoon with a flourish and opens something called 'Chunky Monkey'.

"Pookie, Owen is right. I'm so sorry for underestimating how strong your spirit is, but you have to remember that it's okay to be broken for a while." He pulls an exquisite bowl down from his top shelf. It is an old glazed terra cotta marbled with veins of shimmering gold. "The Japanese have a tradition of mending broken valuables called Kintsugi, which means golden repair. The artist treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise. It is the deepest belief that the mended product is even more beautiful, and it is valued more for the fact that it has been broken than the original." He hands me the priceless piece and adds, "A broken bone, when allowed to mend, becomes stronger than before, more sturdy."

My vision wavers with unshed tears as I pull his words into the cracks in my soul, hopefully filling in a few of the gaps. I think I fall a little bit in love with him in this moment. Maybe one day I'll be beautiful like the bowl.

"Dr.-"

"Sean" he smirks.

Okay. "Dr. Sean," I sass, and roll my eyes. He winks at me before taking a spoonful of the ice cream. I clear away any trace of the tears. I look back and forth between the two men sharing a pint of Ben and Jerry's and try to organize my thoughts. I decide to go for honesty.

"How do you both know that I can do this? I'm fighting with myself all the time. I want to trust you all, but then I'm afraid, and I don't want to be, and then I'm crying or yelling or running away, and I want a hug, because they're addictive, but then I don't want anyone to touch me and I'm suspicious when you've been so nice and I'm always waiting for the disappointment." I take a deep breath. "And apparently I can't stop babbling and I think I must be going insane!" I bury my head in my arms on the counter and groan. Why can't I just have a normal conversation with any of them?

A gentle touch lifts my head and I'm gazing into Dr. Gr-Sean's mischievous green eyes. "You're not insane, Pookie. Crazy people don't wonder if they are. You're human and you're learning."

He slowly pulls me into a comforting hug, and then grabs Mr. Blackbourne and declares us a Pookie sandwich, before shoveling a spoonful of chocolatey heaven into my mouth.

"Now we just need to figure out how to get the boys to understand this," Mr. Blackbourne murmurs.  Dr. Sean laughs and squeezes us tighter.

"No need," he smiles and points to the microwave vent,"I'm sure they're already listening."

I burst out in giggles when I see the small microphone, and I snort, "hi guys!"

I hear a thud and a muffled "damn it!" come from the other room, and I graduate into full blown laughter.

***

I can't believe I fucking bumped her! And then Trouble started swearing at me and it was the sweetest music! But then Mr. B kicked us out. I know I'm pacing, but fucking Christ-on-a-pogo-stick! I look at everyone.

"How the fuck are you all so damn calm?" North actually looks like he's reading something on his phone. "Did none of you assholes just experience what I did in there?"

"Shut up, Gabe," Luke hisses at me, "I'm trying to listen!"

That got my attention. I look at each of them again. They are all on their phones. "Shit balls, Vic, do we have audio in there?"

He nods and I pull up Doc's app on my phone. I calm down and sit to listen in.

***

I've been driving for almost fourteen freaking hours!  Jen was supposed to trade off with me, but after she got back from her last assignment, she needed the shut-eye. I glance in my rear view and see that she's still out cold in the back seat. I really need to stop and get a little sleep, myself, but we're already hitting the outskirts of Chicago. Twenty more minutes until we get to the motel.

I glance at the stack of printouts from Victor Morgan.  He's done one hell of a job pulling together the dossiers of a dozen potentials. Somewhere in that pile of paper is someone who is actually worthy of witness protection. Jen and I will find them, and then we will rain hell down on that bastard and his family.

Look out, Mr. Sorensen, Officer Shannon Calderone is coming for you.

***