Chapter 9

           There are many different kinds of bravery.

            J.M. Barrie

Emmett left the meeting with the heavy weight of foreboding following him like a storm on the horizon. Not visible, but felt in the air as it settled on the skin and burdened the lungs. He pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his jacket, checked the time, and found a secluded chair to make his call.

THE CALL.

The one he swore to himself that he would never make.

He drew breath, as deep as he could, and exhaled.

He could do this.

He would do this.

For Brian.

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Dr. Anders was sorting through the stack of patient files on his desk, wondering why he bothered to go on vacation, when he came back to all the work that piled up when he was gone. As the Director of Emergency for the hospital, the proverbial buck, stopped with him. All patient files from the ER came across his desk for perusal and oversight. All medical staff in the department subjected to his evaluation. He had worked hard for thirty years to attain a "desk job" at a hospital, and now wished he was still working on the floor with the patients. No amount of administrative staff would be successful in helping with the oversight, as patient files were confidential.

He brushed a liver spotted hand through thinning white hair as he grabbed the next file from the top of the stack, absently flipping it open as he reached for his coffee cup. Glancing at the name on the file, his hand froze, cup half way to his mouth, as he quickly scanned the contents of the first page. Setting the cup down, he pushed back from the desk and carried the file out of the office, locking it behind him, his secretary giving a startled shriek as he hurried past her desk.

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Justin was sitting across from his mother in the waiting room. His last check on Brian showed him sleeping peacefully, if not comfortably. Mother and son sat quietly, not really knowing how to begin the conversation both knew had to happen, but hesitant to start what could and most likely would, end up in another argument.

Jennifer watched him as he studied everything around him, avoiding eye contact. She marveled at the man he had become under Brian's tutelage and yearned still for the boy he had been before the prom. He was more careful with his feelings now, sometimes seeming to be adrift, but she knew her son. He didn't want to have this conversation because he already knew what she was going to say. More importantly, he knew she was right, and he was still trying to figure a way for it not to be.

"Justin?"

He did not want to look at her face. He already knew what he would find there. She would be compassionate, but firm. Understanding his heartbreak, but resolved in doing what was right. He loved his mother, but sometimes he wished she wasn't a good one. A bad mother would let him simmer in anger, a bad mother would let him be selfish and demand his needs were more important. A bad mother would not be trying to have this conversation, and a bad mother would not have flown here in the middle of the night to help someone she had every right to dislike, but couldn't.

Brian had already made the choice for treatment...alone. He had chosen to get that treatment without telling or consulting him. His mother knew things about Brian, as did Cynthia, that he didn't. Brian had confided things to them, and kept him at arms-length.

And the first thing she will tell me, is all of these thoughts are selfish.

She would be right.

Attempted murder trumps what I want, so I should just 'grow a pair', as Brian would say, and deal with it.

"I know Mom", and she could see that he did, "I am not foolish enough to think that Brian could handle what I think about him pushing me away, again, right now. I will have to save that for some other time. The investigation and his treatment are more important. I just can't stand being helpless. I have known about the nightmares since we first met."

Jennifer, to her credit, gave no indication of surprise at that revelation, and barely managed to control the urge to interrogate her son.

"Kinda hard to miss them, when you're together as long as us." Justin stood up to pace. "I broached the subject one time, years ago, and he shut me down...hard. He made it very clear that it was not something he would share with me, or talk about in any way. So, I let it go. We pretended they didn't happen. Even when he sought me out for comfort in his sleep I never brought it up again. All I wanted to do was help, and now I don't have the first clue how to do that, because I can't fix this...whatever this is... because I don't even know what it is. Because it's a helluva lot more than PTSD." He slumped back into his chair and covered his face with his hands as if to block the world out, if only for a few moments.

"You understand then, why he did it?" His mother's voice was calm, almost serene. He didn't bother to move his hands, just nodded.

"You understand what has to happen now?" He heard her pain, for having to make the point. He nodded again.

"Do you need anything?" Justin dropped his hands and stared at her for a minute before moving next to her and leaning into the hug she already had waiting.

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Cynthia was out of things to handle. The past forty-eight hours had been one thing after another, but she had taken care of everything or delegated it to someone that could. The police department had been given everything they requested, Kinnetik and all of its holdings had been safeguarded, and she had put a very tight leash on those in the know about Brian and his condition. It was nearing midnight. The waiting room was empty. She had no business concerns left to occupy her mind. Only time.

Time to finally consider the ramifications of the attack.

Time to wonder who planned it.

Time to think about how it could have ended differently.

Time to thank the stars that it had not.

Time to curse fate for slapping at a man already suffering.

Time to wonder if Brian...

"Coffee?" Everett interrupted her musings by holding out a cup from the local café. She offered him a weak smile, glad it was not from the hospital cafeteria, and taking a sip, realized he had already doctored it the way she liked, proving once again, that nothing got past him. He dragged a low table over in front of her chair and sat on it so he could be close but still facing her.

"I'm sorry, for getting on your case earlier." He said. Cynthia just waved her free hand dismissively.

"No, don't brush it off. You were right. I should have considered how well you know him and taken guidance from you, rather than treating this like a military operation." He flushed pink, "Old habits die hard you know? You were also right, that I am used to giving orders, not taking them." He sat up taller, looking her straight in the eye, "You, however, have to understand the situation I am in."

She eyed him back warily, wondering if he was going to play big man on campus, now that things had settled down.

He continued, "Kinnetik does not own my business. Brian was adamant that I retain controlling interest, specifically in case of a situation like this. It is my company and all decisions are mine including how best to take care of my clients. In effect, Brian is my client, and I take his trust very seriously. I know you have read the contracts for my services as they pertain to Kinnetic and its holdings, but I doubt you have read the contracts for services that Brian personally presented for the protection of key personnel, including but not limited to, employees , friends, and family members."

Cynthia raised an eyebrow at that, but declined to comment on it, as there seemed to be more he had to say, so she ate two antacids and waited.

"In matters pertaining to these specific contracts, I must have your complete understanding that I will make any and all decisions necessary to carry out my duties. I do not fall under the employment contract with Kinnetik, but instead the client contract with Brian. It is a very fine line I walk, at the moment, but the latter negates the former in very specific circumstances including the one we find ourselves in right now." Everett had watched her carefully to determine if she was going to balk at his new role, but found no signs of discontent as she mulled over what he said. She seemed to want to say something but was unsure if she should proceed, so he gestured with his hand for her to say what she needed to say.

She gave him a full minute of silence, a "tell" of hers that meant she was ordering her thoughts, and deciding what to say and more importantly, what not to say, before she spoke.

"First, I know Brian trusts you. He would not have partnered with you otherwise, therefore I trust you. Second, Brian trusts me, therefore I have read every single contract he has made with you personally and with your company. Third, it is a very fine line you walk and as acting CEO of Kinnetik, I will ensure you do not lose your balance, so to speak. Fourth, as a recipient of the services of the private contracts, I can only say thank you. Thank you for your time and effort on our behalf. Thank you for taking the situation in hand, and acting accordingly." She watched him in turn, hoping to catch a glimpse of how he felt about her knowledge. Not surprisingly, he revealed nothing. "I also want to say I'm sorry," she almost laughed at the look of surprise on his face. "What? I do know how to say it when it's true. I am sorry, I should have let you handle it. You were right, it was what you and your team have trained to do, and I compounded the problem. So... I'm sorry." Her smile was bashful, completely out of character for the self-assured woman he knew she was.

Everett was speechless. Their fight in the hall earlier had left both of them feeling that the other had no understanding of the previous events and the risk involved. It seemed now, after thinking about it, they had both come to new understanding of the other's point of view and he now had to come clean as well.

"I accept your apology and offer my own. Leaping from the ship, naked, was foolhardy and reckless, but in retrospect probably the only thing that saved his life. So, I too am sorry for what I said. I just want you to understand that I was angry, not at what you did, but because you put yourself at risk and I selfishly wanted to protect you first. A sure sign that I am beginning to care too much about.... Ah fuck it".

He leaned forward then, taking her mouth with his, grasping her head in both of his big hands and doing his best to show her just how much it would have hurt him, if things had turned out differently.

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The next morning brought icy temperatures and needling rain. Brian watched it stab at the window while Justin slept in the upholstered chair he had appropriated sometime during the night. He was wearing the same clothes as the day before, indicating that he had never left the hospital. Brian could see that he was tired and decided not to wake him until he had to.

He wanted to feign sleep when he heard the shower turn off in the adjoining bathroom, in an attempt to avoid the conversation Cynthia would want to have when she emerged, and decided he was alot of things, but a coward was not one of them. Added to that, she would see right through it and call bullshit. In the end, it simply was not worth the effort.

She came out wearing a pair of dark slacks and a light blue button down, securing her still damp hair into a bun. The bun was a sure sign of "down and dirty" Cynthia. She watched him watch her and gave him a smile. "Yes, we have serious business to discuss, but the bun is more for convenience than an indicator of my intents. So you can relax. I won't bite your head off... yet."

He did, visibly relax, and she silently congratulated herself for relieving some of his anxiety. Probably no one else on the planet would have seen it, but she had and would take it as a win.

"I'm glad to see you out of those hideous cartoon scrubs. If I had to see you in them one more time, I think my eyes would bleed." It was the closest he could come to an attempt at humor. "So Boss Lady, what's the scoop?" He needed facts, reassurances, and she settled in the hard chair next to the bed to give them. Pulling the notepad from her bag, she started at the top in their customary way giving him all pertinent information, in list form, then waiting for his decisions.

"Ted and A.J. will be leaving for Pittsburgh on the noon flight, so if you have anything for them you have the next seven and a half hours to let them know before they go. Ted is not as happy as you would think, but I suppose it is because I put him on family as well as business."

Brian nodded for her to continue.

"The cops have been given everything requested and then some, but Everett and I concur that they will show up here sometime today to take your statement, and if Everett is right, have you look at mug shots. He has gone to great lengths to secure all key personnel and facilities in case a second attempt is made." She glanced quickly at Justin then continued with her report.

"So far there have only been requests from the media, for a follow up interview for the fundraiser. No one seems to have learned of your hospitalization, but Everett and I, along with your PR guru Alex, came up with something suitable for a press conference if need be. Since you own all of Kinnetiks holdings outright or have controlling interest, with the exception of Security Force, there are no board members to tell of the situation at this time."

She looked up for confirmation and he waved for her to continue. "I have some documents for you to sign, that were in the works before this started and a list of phone calls you need to return, once it actually becomes morning. That is the most pressing of the business."

She took a hesitant breath but forged ahead. "The family needs to be told something. I know you don't want them all up in your personal life, and I get that, but if they find out second hand then there is going to be drama on the scale of an atomic blast. Lindsay has called a dozen times, as has Michael, and they are getting increasingly frustrated."

Brian looked like he wanted to throw something but stayed quiet.

"Due to your nearly celebrity status, and more to the point, your charitable donations to this hospital, you have been subjected to almost every test known to man, and had them given priority status at the labs. I am glad to say you are cancer free, and show no signs of any other lab detectable disease, venereal or otherwise." He actually cracked a smile at that, and she took it as another win. He had been far too maudlin over the last few months.

"I have gotten indications that you will be released soon and I think we have a line on a place for you to "recuperate". We should have that set up in a couple of days, so I will do what I can to help you get everything in line before you leave. Have you found a...doctor, (she drew the line at saying psychiatrist in his presence), for your care after your healed?"

He wrinkled his nose at her inference, and his lips tightened. "I have nothing for Ted or A.J. since the day to day is now your responsibility." He said as he signed the documents she presented for him. "As for Everett, I expected no less, but I'm glad he is capable of the juggling act I'm sure this situation is requiring of him." He gave her a pointed look, one that said he was not unaware of their probable discord over the same situation. "The family can be told there was an accident, but not the attempt on my life, which was the second in two days by the way, I was stabbed the day before."

Cynthia paled, no one had told her about that.

"Before you get pissed off, there wasn't time and it seemed random, at first, but you are hearing about it now, from me, so there is no misunderstanding. No reason to be pissed at Everett either, since he would not have divulged it to you, in any event, unless I told him to, which I did not, considering the fundraiser and the fact I needed to be there."

She found that point debatable, but did not say anything. She was not willing to upset him over something that was already behind them and had no real bearing on the current conversation.

"I will call Lindsay and Michael and give them the accident scenario, hinting at a vacation to recuperate for a few weeks. I will let them know to get in touch with you if they need to talk to me, but only in an emergency. I hate to not have contact with the kids for that long, but I don't really see a way around it." She could tell that of all the restrictions he was going to have, not seeing the kids was going to be one of the toughest to deal with. She felt bad, but she also understood that he would want to keep them as far away from possible trouble as he could. She just hoped it didn't cause further damage to the fragile emotional state he seemed to be in recently.

"You realize the danger you are going to be in as my personal liaison, don't you?" A myriad of emotions tumbled one over the other in his hazel eyes.

She pretended to be shocked that he would even ask such a stupid question, and joked "Brian, I have known you my whole life, when have I ever not been in danger?"

He gave her a sad, self-deprecating smirk, "Touche", he breathed as he pressed his thumb to the slight dent in her chin, before turning back to the window.

Concluding that he wanted to be alone, and having nothing else to offer as a distraction, she gathered her things and made for the door.

"Thanks," she heard him say, but did not turn around, "for coming after me".

She found it telling that he did not say for saving his life, just for the effort of caring enough to try. It made her heartbreakingly sad, but she gave him back the line he had given her years ago, "All in a day's work." Adding the thought, my sweet dark angel, as she let the door drift shut behind her.

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Justin slowly rose through the haze of exhausted sleep, hearing his mother's voice in soothing tones, reminding him of his childhood when he was home sick from school. For a few moments, he even imagined it was him she was talking to, so he didn't immediately open his eyes until she asked him if he needed help to the bathroom. Wait...what the fuck? He jerked upright, eyes wide as saucers, before realizing it was Brian, she was speaking to. They both stared at him, mouths agape, before laughing their asses off.

"Guess Sunny-Boy over there doesn't want you near my hotness." Brian could not keep his amusement from showing and Jennifer opted to play along, if it meant a few more minutes of a happy and relaxed Brian. Tongue firmly in cheek, she ran a hand down Brian's bicep and gave him an exaggerated leer before saying, "I do have a thing for younger men you know". Setting off a fresh peal of laughter and causing Justin to jump, bleary eyed, from his seat to escort Brian to the bathroom. She could hear Justin's sulking voice and Brian's mocking laughter as she unpacked the paper bags holding the breakfast she brought from a local restaurant.

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Marc and Lara stepped off the elevator at nine o'clock sharp. Everett rose from his chair outside Brian's room and intercepted them, tilting his head for them to follow as he walked the short distance to the window at the end of the hall. Brian's room was the last in the corridor, so they were not impeding traffic, and afforded some privacy while still being able to monitor the coming and going of everyone in the hall, and more specifically, Brian's room.

"You look like shit Pops, when was the last time you slept?" Lara eyed him critically, searching with a doctor's eye for anything that might indicate a need for medical intervention.

Everett just rolled his eyes at her, not really upset, but understanding her concern nevertheless. "I caught a couple of hours here and there. Nothing I haven't done before."

"Uh Huh, but you were a lot younger then, how's the blood pressure?" She wrapped her hand around his wrist, in a loving gesture, while inconspicuously placing her thumb on his pulse point to get her own answer.

"It's fine, thank you very much." He said as he pulled his hand away and gave her a knowing look. She just threw him a gamine smile, entirely unapologetic, and he couldn't help but return it.

It was in that moment, seeing their mirrored smiles, and her earlier use of the term Pops, that Marc had his epiphany. They were related. Not just related, but father and daughter. All the years he had worked with Everett and the last year with Lara as well, and he was just now seeing the similarity. Neither had ever hinted at their relationship and he felt like a world class fool for not having figured it out sooner. Some intelligence agent he was. He was still kicking himself in the ass when Lara realized his dilemma and chuckled at his self-incrimination. He wanted to storm off, but could not before relaying new information to his boss. So he sucked it up and began his report.

"The rescan of ID bracelets for the employees turned up only one missing. A twenty-two year old male, named Darren Saunders. I gave his file to the locals. I've got nothing else, new, to report."

Lara crossed her arms over her chest and widened her stance a bit, "He is here to relieve you." Everett was already shaking his head in the negative, but she insisted. "You haven't had any reasonable amount of sleep in about seventy-two hours, by my count, and I don't have to tell you what the repercussions of that could be. As a doctor, I have to advise you to get some down time, though I know you are getting ready to blow me off."

Everett understood her concerns, but could not give in to the need for sleep, yet, so he offered her a compromise. "I promise to take six hours down, after the cops come. I need to be here, personally, to get a read on the investigators, and hear first-hand what they have so far, so I can push my assets in the proper directions, while making sure the police are on the right track."

Lara simply nodded, taking into account the fact that he was personally involved in Brian's case and the necessity of his presence for the investigation. That settled, Marc took up the post outside Brian's room, and Lara led her father off to get some food into him and pick his brain for Brian's condition.

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Michael slid into his usual booth at the diner, Lindsay hot on his heels. She arranged herself primly in the seat across from him, picking up a menu and immediately setting it back on the scarred surface of the table. Her anxiety was palpable, causing Michael to wonder at its cause. She had called him at the ass crack of dawn and maneuvered him into meeting her here without Ben. Seeing that she had also left Mel out of this meeting, he could only surmise she had reason to want secrecy. To what ends he could only guess, so he waited, fidgeting, for her to proceed.

"Did you see the show?" She asked him, as a waiter poured two cups of coffee for them.

Michael nodded and smiled, "It was awesome, Brian really knows what he's doing. I think he raised something like three million dollars for his charity." He was glad she chose Brian as their topic of conversation, he could handle that, so he figured he could relax, and her anxiety was related to something else. He could not have been more wrong.

"Michael, I need to talk to you about something, but I need you to keep it between us." She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his affirmation. He most definitely did not want to give it, but saw no easy way out of it. When he didn't respond for a few seconds, Lindsay read into it what she wanted and continued.

"A couple days ago, Brian came to Toronto and asked me to have his baby."

Michael choked on his coffee and spent several moments regaining his ability to breathe, and several more cleaning up his mess, all the while trying unsuccessfully to wrap his brain around that statement.

"I did not give him an answer, and certainly never would without Mel's approval," Michael wasn't so sure about that, "but I have not been able to get a hold of him since. I really need to talk to him."

Michael wished himself far from the diner, far from the state, if truth be told. He did not want to be any more involved with the munchers than he absolutely had to be for the sake of his daughter. More importantly, he did not want to be involved with the munchers when it concerned Brian. He had learned that lesson long ago with the custody suit.

"Lindsay, I don't think I want to talk about whatever it is that you think I need to be here for." Michael made sure that his voice was firm, but not offensive.

"I am just concerned is all," her eyes were pleading, "have you talked to him since Friday?"

Michael shook his head, "I've been trying, to congratulate him, ya know? But it goes straight to voicemail. I even tried Cynthia, but she just said he was busy. I don't believe her for a minute. I have never heard her sound quite that way before. She wasn't mean or anything, just sorta resigned." Michael shook his head again, not even sure that was an appropriate description of how she had sounded.

Lindsay could see Michael heading into a typical brood, but she still needed him for answers before he became too self-involved to respond openly. "Have you talked to anyone that has spoken to him since the fundraiser?" She managed to keep her tone light, unconcerned, so as not to draw any particular attention.

Michael just stared into his coffee and shook his head.

"Well, I suppose he will call me when he has some time. Thanks for meeting with me, it was good to see you again." Lindsay tossed a bill on the table to cover the tab and left him sitting there, still pondering the idea that Brian wanted another kid, while not questioning her presence in Pittsburgh. Her plan had worked.

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Lieutenant Samantha Martinez and Senior Detective Robert Hale worked well together. By virtue of their respective seniority, neither was required by the department to have a partner, but after years of coinciding or overlapping cases, had unofficially been working as partners for more than six years. A situation of convenience the department overlooked, as their cases were closed and lawbreakers were remanded to the justice system with resounding and sometimes astonishing success. They were sometimes called supercops by those they worked with, but the truth of the matter was that they simply did everything they could to ensure the job was well done. The fact that they got along and thought along similar lines but from differing angles, just reinforced their status within the department. Both were in their mid to late forties with more than fifteen years on the force.

They had been up all night, poring over the data provided by Kinnetik and Security Force. The sheer amount of information had been daunting to say the least, but specific items had been earmarked as priority by the sender and had painted a quick and concise picture of the events leading to Mr. Kinney's injuries. Whoever had sent the information was well educated in ferreting out seemingly inconsequential data and forming it into a cohesive play by play for the investigators. They had been practically led by the nose, giving both an uneasy feeling that they were missing something. It was the pursuit of that missing piece that had led to the all-nighter, which resulted in nothing more than confirmation of what had been presented in the first place. It was very frustrating.

They came to the conclusion that it was time to question the victim and see if new information would be forthcoming. To that end, they rode the elevator to the eighth floor in silence, each of them entertaining their own thoughts about the case. Nearing the waiting room, they saw a large well-built man rise from a chair at the end of the hall and press a button on his radio.

"Calling for reinforcements." Sam said under her breath and Bobby gave an imperceptible nod of agreement.

Extending her hand as she approached and flashing her badge with the other, she introduced them and asked to see Mr. Kinney. Marc took the hand in a firm grip and gave them his name and title, then asked them to wait, while he checked to see if the patient was awake, and left them in the hallway.

A look passed between the detectives, but neither commented.

Sam kept an eye on her watch. Just as the minute hand was telling her they had been waiting for six minutes, an older obviously military man came striding down the hall, with a good-looking blonde in tow, followed by a painfully unattractive ginger in an expensive suit.

Before they were in earshot Bobby said, "Mr. Ryker, the new CEO, and my guess for the third is lawyer."

Sam was in complete agreement, and Bobby took his turn with introductions when the new group reached them. As if on cue, Marc opened the door and allowed everyone in before moving off to stand at the window. Everett took a station by the door and everyone else did their best to arrange around the room without being too intrusive.

"Mr. Kinney, my name is Samantha Martinez and this is Robert Hale. We are working your case, and would like to ask you some questions, if that would be all right."

She found herself under intense scrutiny by a pair of unfiltered hazel eyes. They tracked her face first, then travelled down her body and moved on to do the same to her partner. It was unnerving to say the least. As investigators, both had become fluent in reading people, while keeping themselves unreadable, but this was an open assessment, in front of others, and neither were too comfortable when it was finished and those eyes came back to her face.

In an instant moment of clarity, she returned the favor. Taking note of the pale skin, the unshaven jaw, the exposed chest and muscled abdomen bared by the gaping silk bathrobe, and the posse of humanity surrounding him. Letting her frank perusal return to his face she offered a silent challenge. The bastard held her gaze for a moment then laughed his ass off. It pissed her off to some degree that she found it charming. The unacknowledged tension left the room and several people visibly relaxed.

"Good, now we understand each other." Sam said as she pulled up a hard plastic chair and opened her briefcase. Bobby took a stance behind her and removed a small notepad and pen from his coat pocket.

"Mr. Kinney, do you know the man that attacked you?" she asked while rifling papers in her case and not looking at him.

Brian watched her intently. "No"

"Did you see the man at any time before he attacked you?"

"No"

"When were you told he impersonated one of your staff?"

"I wasn't"

"You were unaware until now that he impersonated a waiter?"

"No, I was not told, I already knew." She finally looked at him, and he did not need super powers to tell she was immensely curious now.

"How did you know, Mr. Kinney?"

"The instant I got a good look at him, the clothes, the scruff, a general feeling. None of it fit, I never would have hired someone like him."

Bobby arched an eyebrow, but kept taking notes as Sam pressed for more details.

"What do you mean, someone like him?"

"He was dark, for lack of a better term. Not personable...off kilter."

"Did you speak with him?"

"No"

"Then how do you know?"

Brian treated her to an evilly sarcastic smirk, "Because he tried to kill me."

Sam ignored the barb and presented him with a manila folder. "Would you mind looking through these mugshots and seeing if you can identify your attacker?"

Brian leafed through the pages quickly, paused very briefly at one, then continued on swiftly until he came to the one he wanted. Handing it over, he said "This one."

Bobby spoke this time. "You are absolutely sure, Mr. Kinney?"

Brian gave him a look reserved for the supremely stupid and arched a brow.

The Detective clarified, "It is just unusual that victims are so sure this soon after being traumatized. Usually they need to go over the mugshots several times, even then most can't be positive." Brian was losing patience and his pain meds were wearing off. He needed to end this soon.

"Let's get one thing straight. I am NOT a victim and I AM positive."

Everett had been quiet up to now, but stepped forward to intervene, just to have Brian wave him off. Brian was not finished with the good detective yet.

"You have been given video of the altercation, as well as other footage of this man. I have not seen it myself, but I am sure it will be enough to make the match. This man was also given over to your custody, so I hardly think making the charges stick will be difficult. I also know you have been given every single piece of evidence available from our end. What I want now, is for you to tell me what information you have outside of what I provided for you." Brian was having increasing difficultly keeping his emotions in check. His head was pounding and bile was rising into his throat.

"I can't divulge information at this time Mr. Kinney, and I realize that may not be what you want to hear." Sam did her best to keep her tone even as she watched the anxiety build in him.

"Then you can leave." Every word was enunciated clearly and carried an imminent threat.

"I can't do that Mr. Kinney, I have more questions for you." Sam smiled, trying to make him understand that she was not the enemy.

"You will leave this very minute, or I will have my attorney bring charges of harassment." The room fell silent. Everyone was aware of the consequences for threatening a police officer, but no one found a voice to still the onslaught that was Brian's temper, now fully out of control.

"Mr. Kinney..."

Brian was having none of it, he threw the folder with the mugshots in it, towards the door sending the photos spewing in all directions. "Leave, NOW! I'm fucking done being your guinea pig. I don't have to answer your fucking questions!" Justin came to stand by the bed but Brian physically pushed him away, "Stay the fuck away from me, I don't want you here! Can't you get that through your head?" Justin fled. Everett started ushering people out of the room as Brian picked up whatever he could reach and threw it at the investigators. Jennifer just covered her eyes briefly but stood her ground. Brian continued to yell obscenities until most everyone was gone and his throat was raw. His movements were jerky and he was sweating again. His heart monitor was beeping at an alarming rate and his eyes were wild. When he ran out of things to throw, he pulled at his hair, like he was trying to claw his brain out. The doctor and two nurses came in then, alerted by the machines, and began an assessment. Brian pushed their hands away with growling aggravation and refused to let them near him. Everett convinced them that he would be okay, if they gave him some time and came back later, assuring them that he would get them if he thought it really serious. The doctor gave him a dubious look, but left anyway. Everett rounded on Brian as soon as they were gone.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?"

Some latent part of Brian's brain latched onto the fact that Everett was engaging him and he yelled back. "Who the fuck are you to question me? You work for me, you son of a bitch! You do what I tell you to do!"

Everett figured the best way out of this was for Brian to either pass out from exhaustion/pain, or come to his senses. Either way it went, this outburst had to play out first. Better that he be the one to provoke it and be on the receiving end. "You're absolutely right, I'm a son of a bitch, but I don't work for you. My company does, and right now you are making my job a thousand times harder!" Everett yelled back.

"So just leave already! Everyone else does!"

"No they don't you jackass! You push them away!"

"So the fuck what! They would do it eventually anyway!" Jennifer gasped but held her tongue. She had thought Justin's episodes were bad, but this was unbelievable. Brian was dripping sweat and his eyes were almost vacant, like the mouth was moving but no one was driving. His muscles rippled as he waved his arm around to make his point and claw at his hair again. Tension rode his body hard and it seemed like he had no control over it. Everett stood at the end of his bed with his hands on his own hips giving the shit right back at equal volume and astounding levels of profanity for a full ten minutes.

Then Everett said, "Come on you fucking cocksucker! You can fucking well do better than that!"

Brian turned a very unbecoming shade of angry red, "What the fuck did you call me?!"

"You heard me, cocksucker!" Everett sneered, "Poor me, everyone leaves, boo fucking hoo." He mocked in a childish voice. "You're a fucking sissy, a pansy, a fucking fairy!"

Brian paled to bloodless white, making the dark circles under his eyes stand out in stark contrast. His breath came out in a big whoosh as he fell back against the pillows. Silent and still. Jennifer and Everett both held their breath, hoping it was over. Brian closed his eyes, slowly came back into himself. "Please..." his voice cracked, "leave".