Chain Reaction 3.1.85: Asking Permission

Alex, Dwight, Kade, Isabella: another whiplash pov chapter. Eek. Guess I get carried away. Oh well. I'm not apologizing. :P :) 

Alex

     What... the plum... is happening to me?

     I'm not dyeing my hair, but just before Winterfest, I started noticing it getting darker again. On its own.

     Speaking of Winterfest, I was shocked at how old Brielle looked. We're the same age!

     I don't look seventy-five, and I doubt this is how seventy-five feels. Brielle kept complaining about her back. But I feel fine. I feel great.

    Sixty? Fifty? Sh*t, that's it. I look Emily's age.

    It was those plumbing Prexans. I wonder if they intended to keep me this long. Well, if AD had had her say, yes. Am I going to keep de-aging? This is crazy.

    With a sigh, I decide to go see what my darling wife is up to. I find her on the patio.

 

     Things have been doing nothing but get better, much to my everlasting relief. Emily has gotten very good at controlling her frustration, meaning she doesn't swear as much. She does slip up on occasion and say the wrong word, but we've also been happily surprised when she doesn't mess up. We've both been seeing a therapist, and she thinks Emily's errors may be due in part to emotional trauma, something in her brain and psyche that cringes and doesn't want to face what happened, hence the word-replacement.
 

     Emily pulls back and gives me a pensive expression. "Alex, um, don't take this the wrong way, but... well, if you want help on how to use hair dye, I can help." She has been dyeing her grays, sometimes professionally, sometimes not, depending on her mood.

     She looks so worried! It actually makes me laugh a little.

     "It's not my doing." I shrug.

     Her forehead creases. "Then perhaps you could go to my stylist? It's really uneven."

     "No no no. Emily, I'm not dyeing it. It's changing back on its own." Why is this funny? Upstairs, I was trying to keep from freaking out, and now I want to laugh.

     But she isn't finding this humorous.

     "On its own? How...?" She pauses, and then she realizes. "I didn't think what they did to you would do this much. I'd read cases where the Sixams would pause aging for a while, maybe taking off a few years, but nothing about reversing it this much."

     My smile goes away. "I know." I'd hacked into the lab where she works now and found the same information. The horror of realizing just how much the Prexans wanted to use me kept trying to dig into my own psyche, and I didn't want to think about it... hence my own trips to the therapist. It has a lot to do with the fact that I was owned. (I've since had the 'dog shock collar' marking colored in to match my skintone since it couldn't be outright removed.) I can't forever avoid dealing with it, and trying to use therapeutic escapes hasn't worked. It was Emily who forced me to see her therapist because she was getting frustrated with my clingy attitude.

     I was, in truth, AD's slave, and she with the colony intended for me to stay alive for many, many years to come. I honestly can't say how long, and that's something else I'll have to deal with. Dealing with what happened to me already has been my focus, though. The future will have to take care of itself later.

     "What's going to happen?" Her lower lip quivers, and I know what she means: am I going to outlive her?

     And THAT'S what scares me the plumbing most.

     I can't bear her tears, so I desperately kiss her before they can start. No, I can't think about the future. Not yet. One thing at a time.

     The doorbell sounds from inside the house, and we break apart, turn, and see Diamond standing at the front door.

     "Well, this is a surprise," Emily remarks as I walk to the front door.

     I smile. "But a good one." I don't see my daughter often enough. I lost all that time during the trial and my imprisonment. We go out to lunch on rare occasions, and she and I talk on the phone sometimes. But it could always be better.

     My only daughter: Sure, she grew up spoiled, but she also has a fierce independent streak and a thirst to prove herself, which has helped her, as an adult, to break the spoiled habit.

     She pulls back and looks at me. "Maker, Daddy! Your hair!"

     "I know! It's like it can't make up its mind!" I don't want to get into why with her.

     She makes some of the same comments Emily did, making my wife giggle some, and we discuss it for a minute, without me telling her why. Then, Diamond's face falls. There's a reason for her visit, and I feel we're about to find out what it is.

     "Could we sit down? I need to talk to you."

     Uh oh. 

      I direct her to the sofas, and we all three have a seat. Then, she bursts into tears.

     Before I can ask what's wrong, she blurts out, "I'm pregnant!"

     Oh plum. 

     "Don't compare me to Mom! Please!"

     I can't find my voice yet, but Emily says, "It's okay, Diamond. We don't want to compare you to your mom." She glances at me. Sorry, but I can't help it. Emily continues, "Tell us what we can do to help. Have you told the father?"

     She picks her head up, but her eyes are still closed. "That's just it. I don't know who he is."

     Wham! I'm hit by another 2x4, knocking the breath out of me once again.

     "I was at a party at a photographer's house, someone I'd interviewed for work. I remember having fun: I had a few drinks, did some dancing, swam in the pool, but after that, everything is a ball of fuzzy mush in my head. I woke up the next morning in one of the guest bedrooms. I've already been to the doctor, and the timeline fits perfectly with the night of the party."

     Emily asks, "Are you sure it was someone at the party?"

     Diamond glares at her. "I don't sleep around. The time before that was months earlier."

     Emily holds up her hands. "Sadly. I wasn't trying to imply anything."

     My brain finally kicks back into action. "Who was this photographer? Is there a guest list? Does he or she have CCTV?"

     "Daddy, don't do this. Finding out who the father is isn't my top priority. And even if I do find out, I don't think anything heinous was going on; I just made a stupid decision."

     "We need to know! Why don't you want to know?" This is ludicrous! How can she not want to know what happened? "Whose house, Diamond?"

     She sighs. "Hugh Carter, but don't go blaming him. He's really nice, eccentric, artsy, and gay most likely."

     The name rings a bell, but I can't place him right now.

     "Why do I recognize the name?" I mutter to myself.

     Emily turns to me. "Mikey, maybe?"

     "Plum. Yes, that's it." I'd hired Mr. Carter to take headshots of Mikey, getting his modeling career started.

     "Stop it, Daddy. I didn't come here today to have you go on a witch hunt."

     Emily asks, "Do you need anything from us, Diamond?"

     My daughter sighs with relief.

     "I just wanted to tell you. And, maybe, ask you to babysit sometimes?" A little smile comes to life on her face as Emily perks up.

     "Of course! As often as you need! I could retire. I'm only working to have something else to do outside the house. Have you started thinking of names?"

     And here's where I leave the conversation. Emily loves everything to do with babies. Maker help us all when Alaric announces he's going to be a father. Someday. He's finishing up school, and it looks like he and Kyra will be engaged any time now. I know Emily will go nuts when her own baby tells her he has a baby on the way. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

    I get up, kiss Diamond's forehead, tell her everything will be okay, and head into my office.

     Yes, everything will be okay. I'll make sure of it.

     Because my daughter is nuts if she thinks I'm just going to let this go.

 

Dwight

 

     "Hi." It's Marco. I've been avoiding him. He usually doesn't get home this early. I left at lunch because I had no more appointments. When I got home, I just wanted to be comfortable. I wanted to sit and read, but I can't focus on anything. So, I'm here in the kitchen, upgrading the sink. Now, Marco is going to try and strike up a conversation. Sigh.

     "Hello." That's it. That's all I'm saying. He's lucky to get that.

     Honestly, how did he think I was going to react to that scene the other day? I get it. Fine. He's been saying this whole time how he's bad for me. I think I finally got the message.

     "I didn't expect you to be home so early." He keeps trying.

     All I do is grunt in response.

     "Listen, would you, uh, like to go get a drink... or something?"

     I put the wrench down in the sink and stare at the wall in front of me. Don't cry! My chest moves as I take in and let out a deep breath. Fine. One more word. "No." Needing to escape, I walk around him, headed to my room.

     He reaches out for me, "Dwight, wait."

 

     I throw my hands up to stop him. "No."

     "I'm trying to apologize."

     "No, I get it. You've told me numerous times that you're bad for me. Then, you decide to show me. I've gotten the message."

 

     "I'm sorry. Look, you're right. I'm scared."

     "Well, what you feared would happen has happened," I tell him, meaning when he told me he was scared, he meant he was scared he would hurt me. I know it's more than that, but he's never admitted to it. "What more is there to be afraid of now?"

     "Plenty."

     "Oh yeah? Like what?" He won't say it. I know he won't say it. I've said it, but I'll fall into a dead faint if he tells me right now. He won't do it.

     "I..." He swallows. I was right. "Okay, I was stupid. It didn't mean anything with him. I sent him home right after you went to your room."

     I sigh, and my shoulders droop. "So, it didn't mean anything, yet you still chose to hurt me."

     "I didn't mean it like that!" His eyes are wide. "Please give me another chance. I'm just a scared as*hole."

     I run my hand down my face. "I think I'm going to spend the rest of the day reading in my room. See ya." I can't help but see his crestfallen expression before I turn and go.

     I want to forgive him. I do! I just can't find it in me to do it yet. And maybe he's right: maybe he's the last person I need in my life. I can handle his emotional downswings, but the blatant cheating, even though we've never said we were exclusive, that hurt.

     He doesn't try to get my attention, doesn't knock on my door the rest of the afternoon. In the morning, I don't see him. I have a pretty good day at work, and when I come home, I have a surprise.

      A little ceramic or wooden (I can't tell) bunny sits waiting for me at my door. It's like it's saying, 'Hi there! I have a message for you. It's this little flower. He's really sorry.' It's adorable.

     Damn him.

 

     I sit him on my desk. I don't have many possessions anymore. Akito and his new buddies trashed everything I had. Dad was furious, but since we have no footage of the event, we can't prove anything.

     'Hi, there.'

     I pull up a search on my new laptop. I don't know if I can take this anymore. I tell him I love him only for him to parade someone else around in front of me.

     'He's really sorry.'

     Bunny, stop being so damn cute or I'm going to throw you against the floor. I close my eyes and take a breath. No, I could never do that. I love the silly, adorable thing.

     Maybe I'll finally buy my own house, rent an apartment, something. But I am going to find a new place to live.

 

Kade

     That b*tch. She's divorcing me! What the plum?!

     I thought it was just we had an argument. A really bad argument, but an argument nonetheless. Then, someone shows up at the front door a little while ago and serves me papers.

     Now, I have to find a plumbing lawyer. She's caught me completely off guard with this.

     A tear thinks about escaping my eye. All it does is make me mad. All Isabella's done is make me mad. Our whole relationship, all I've wanted is to make her happy, but everything I do is like it doesn't matter to her!

     I had this dream that I would become famous. I pictured myself at awards ceremonies with my beautiful wife on my arm. Life would be fabulous. Isabella could finally have everything she's ever wanted.

     Well, I guess that only existed in my head because apparently, Isabella doesn't want me.

     I quickly run my fingers through my hair in an aggravated manner. "Ugh!" I'm unemployed, and I have to find a lawyer?

     I can't think right now, so I get up. Benjamin's door stands in front of me as I turn around. I enter his room for the first time in ages.

     I miss him. Yeah, sometimes, he annoys the plum outta me, but that's normal, right? Families do that.

     Tuh. Family. Isabella wants to rip our family apart. I stare at the wall. You know what? It's not like I have to work. I want to spend the weekend with my son. I get dressed and head over to my mother-in-law's place. Well, my current mother-in-law.

     This is ridiculous. Why do I feel like I have to ask permission to see my son?

     She just got home from work, and she can see me from where she sits in the living room. She'd better not try to ignore me.

Isabella

     I look out the window in the door and see Kade on the other side of it. Oh no. 

     "Hang on a second, Ben. Your father's here."

     "Okay," he replies and goes back to watching television. Obviously, he's not running out to greet him, further cementing how I think Ben long ago gave up on Kade.

     "What are you doing here?" I ask brown eyes that I once thought were sweet and caring.

     "What do you think I'm doing here? Divorce? Are you serious?"

     "Of course I am. I left you, didn't I?"

     "I just thought you wanted to come to your mother's to calm down for a while." Well that explains why he did nothing to stop me. "I had no idea you wanted to take it this far."

     "You didn't? You told me I wasn't the person you thought you fell in love with." I continue glaring.

     "It was an argument, Bella! People say and do stupid crap when they're mad."

     "Well, Kade, you really aren't the person I thought I fell in love with."

     He looks like I stabbed him. "Then why don't we try to work through this instead of just giving up?"

     "I don't think we can work through this. We're at odds about everything, and I'm tired of living like that."

     "What about Benjamin? Are you just going to break up our family?"

     "Since when do you care about Ben?"

     He returns my glare. "Stop thinking I don't care about Benjamin. He's my son. Of course I care about him. Just because I'm not obsessed with his happiness doesn't mean I don't care."

     "Well, we couldn't tell from where we were standing."

     "Have you been bad mouthing me to him?"

     "No, even though I want to."

     "Well, I obviously don't have to work this weekend, and I want to spend it with him. I don't think I should have to ask your permission, and it pisses me off that it feels like I do."

     "Well, there he is. Why don't you ask him yourself?" Yeah and watch as he tells you to get lost. 

     Kade goes inside, and Ben bounds up off the couch to go over to him.

     "Dad! You're here!" He smiles.

     "Hey, buddy. Want to take your old man out for some ice cream? Then maybe we could stay up all night playing video games."

     Who ARE you? 

     "Yes! Oh, Mom, can I?"

     Kade glares at me, probably because Ben asked if he could go.

     I force a smile on my face. "Of course you can!" What choice did I really have here? Was I supposed to be the bad guy and say no?

     "Awesome!"

     My smile freezes on my face as my precious son walks out the door to spend the night at his dad's house. I wait until they're out of sight before I freak out.

     Then I freak out. Mom is out shopping. I'm alone in the house. I have no idea what to do with myself!

     After pacing around and manically fidgeting with stuff, I start wondering just how much Kade really is going to fight me on the custody thing. In tears, I call Adrien.

     "Where are you?" he asks. "All my files and stuff are at the office, so I don't have your address."

     I tell him, and he says he'll be here in ten minutes.

     It's ten minutes of me pacing around the house like a lunatic.

     "He took him. He took him. He took him. He took him. I didn't know he'd do that. But he did. He took him. Ben just got up and walked out with Kade. I don't know what to do. Kade doesn't love him like I love him. Why would he go with his dad like that? He took him. He took him. He took him. He took him."

     "Isabella, shhh." When did Adrien get here?

     I take a deep breath, and I start crying into his shoulder. I'm flipping out; I know it. All the stress over everything. I think I snapped.

     "Shh. Everything's going to be okay."

     "But what if he wants to be with his dad?" That would break my heart.

     "Trust me. These things have a way of working themselves out. Kade's just in shock about the divorce. He'll go back to being his dickhead self before you know it."

     "You're right. He's using Ben to upset me." I'm so glad I called Adrien. He's seen this sort of stuff before.

     "Maybe."

     I step back, and he drops his arms.

     "Could I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? I could heat up some leftovers. It's not Chez Llama, but my mom is a fantastic cook." I have to do something or I'm going to start to lose it again. "I'm not the best at it, but I make decent pancakes. Well, it's not the right time of day for pancakes, is it? But I wouldn't mind." I'm just being hospitable. I'm not losing it.

     He smiles. "Well, I'm not too shabby in the kitchen. It comes from living alone and having a refined palate. How about you come over to my apartment and I cook you something?"

     "Okay."

     "Wait. What?"

     "I said okay. I mean, what am I going to do around here?"

     He takes my hands.

     "Just so there's no confusion, I'm asking you out."

     "I know." I nod. Then I look down at my attire. "Just... let me go change out of my work clothes."

     He looks at me like a lion would an antelope. "Okay." He smiles. "I'll wait here."

     On the way downtown, he entertains me with some of his more ridiculous stories, and it really helps my mood. The man can really spin a yarn.

     When we get to his apartment, he surprises me.

     "Thank you for giving me this chance, Isabella."

     "Oh. Well, there's a story there, but I don't want to get into it."

     "Fair enough."

     "This is a nice kitchen," I remark. "I never thought I'd like black walls."

     He smiles. "I hired a professional decorator a few years back and told her what I liked. She was great." Do I detect a smirk?

     "Well, she did a good job." Was she more than the decorator? 

     We chat about random things while he cooks, nothing about the case or what happened earlier. He steers very clear of those topics. I start thinking he's a conversation artist.

     And a culinary one.

     After dinner, he goes to the bar and opens a bottle of... red wine.

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A/N: Due to timeline issues, there is a chapter thrown in between the ending of Isabella's dinner to approaching the wine time.