Chapter 39: Little Things

It had been two and a half weeks since Bastion had been arrested – two weeks since my big argument with Allison and Jamie. I was the one who called Allison in to talk to Jamie about her desire to torment Bastion, but I was prepared for – even expected – Allison to go along with it. Jamie was right; I'd seen the video, seen the damage – both mental and physical – that he had inflicted on these girls. I'd seen – through their own dreams, and visions shared by their protectors – the things that his followers had done to them, many to their own children. The reason I called Allison to intercede was that, for the most part, I agreed with Jamie; the bastard didn't deserve a moment's peace for the rest of his miserable existence. I'd called Allison because I had hoped that a cooler head might prevail. Either way, I was prepared and could support either argument. Or so I thought.

"Jimmy, why are we letting this bastard live?"

Wasn't quite ready for that.

"Excuse me?" I said, stunned.

"You heard me. Jimmy, I've thought about this a lot – even before you called me to talk to Jamie – and I think we're making a huge mistake. I understand that you want to give the system a chance to work; I get that. You want to do the right thing, but Jimmy, this is a bad idea. Bubble or no bubble, Bastion is too dangerous; he knows too much, not just about the girls and innocents we've been working to protect, but about you. Not who you are – that knowledge is locked in the bubble with the other one – but he knows that someone named 'Jimmy' has been after him, and he has to at least suspect that it's you who has been killing his people. I know this isn't what you expected – or wanted – to hear, but like I said; I've been thinking about this – a lot – and I can't help thinking that we're making a huge mistake. Jimmy, he needs to die. Forget the plan and just end it."

It was all I could do to stick to my guns and give the system a chance – especially when every fiber of my being screamed that she was right. But in the back of my mind I kept hearing my conversation with Rod when I'd gone to him about turning Gordon Ceres in to the authorities. Our legal system isn't perfect, but, damnit, I'd been judge, jury, and executioner too much already just getting to this point; I didn't just want to let the system do its job, I needed to give it that chance. What I had told Bastion was true; I hadn't killed any of his people. But Jamie – as independent as she may be – is as much a part of me as Spring was part of Dawn – maybe more so – and she would not have done it if I hadn't given my consent. I had no guilt over what we had done – yes, I do accept my share of the responsibility. Left alone, they would have died when we took Hightower down anyway. The difference was that doing it this way allowed us to place the girls in safe environments and provide them with at least a chance at reclaiming the lives that had been stolen from them. It wasn't – in my mind, anyway – a question of whether the system could have handled it; clearly it couldn't, or it would have already. If someone like Atkins can't level the playing field, then it can't be done; not playing by their rules anyway.

I might regret letting Bastion live, but I feared that I would regret the consequences of condemning him to death myself more. I needed to know.

In the end I compromised at letting Walter have him. Whatever else he may have become, Walter began his existence as a nightmare. The only other time I had let him do this was when Rebecca had captured the scumbag who was raping little girls out by Palm Springs. I had him merge with me so I could give him the memories I had of all the video we'd seen. That was probably all the motivation he needed, but then I let him spend time with the girls and experience some of their memories first hand, starting with Spring. He didn't even come back to speak to me before he left...

The case was moving along pretty well. The DA and Bastion's lawyer had bantered back and forth a couple times. The attorney had made the obligatory attempt at plea bargaining, but considering he had – quite literally – a smoking gun, the DA did not feel inclined to entertain the suggestion. Of course, this was the second lawyer, the first having quit when Bastion – against his advice – pled guilty. The plea bargain proposal had been made based on diminished capacity. After all, why else would someone plead guilty to twelve charges of first-degree murder? I probably could have given them an alternate suggestion, but – go figure – they didn't ask me. Probably just as well they didn't, though.

Needless to say, Jamie was happy with Walter's work to date. Actually, it was a team effort; Jamie went along with him into the outer bubble and made sure Bastion didn't have any tricks up his sleeve. Believe me, if he was holding anything back, it would have come out by the end of the second night.

"We have to give the system a chance," I kept reminding her.

"Yeah, 'cause they have such a stellar track record already," she reminded me back.

Allison

My brother is a fool. I love him to death, but everything about this just screams, "MISTAKE!" I even understand why he feels this way; he believes in the system – or at least he wants to. He wants to believe that – without Bastion using his gift to interfere – none of this would have happened. Moron! The only way to keep that from happening again is to interfere himself, and every time he does that, he risks exposure. Of all the times to draw a line in your moral sandbox ... He stood aside and let Jamie quietly dispose of ... what? ... thirty people? Okay, the last twelve weren't so quiet, but why now, when you've finally gotten to the rotten apple at the bottom of the barrel? I'm tempted to call Brandiy and ask her, but ... well, mistake or not, it needs to be our mistake. Besides, I don't think she'd tell me.

Jimmy

There were two significant events scheduled for this week: First, thanks to the efforts of some person or group that doesn't exist, Spring's big sister, Autumn, would soon be coming back from her long exile in the Middle East. I had discussed the event with Spencer, and it had been made clear that the Bureau was still maintaining a discreet distance from anything connected with Bastion's case. That put me in a bind since I needed a place for her to stay that was safe and would allow her to ease back into both Western life in general, and her own life in particular, without overwhelming her. No small task. Spencer surprised me by suggesting that perhaps she could stay with Doreen for a while. Apparently, during one of their now-weekly dinner or lunch get-togethers, Doreen had confided in her that she was finding herself increasingly bored and lonely. With no one to take care of but herself, the house was starting to feel big and empty. Having Christine and me over a few nights a week helped, but it wasn't enough, and she had found herself watching more and more daytime television just to fill the hours. The second time she had caught herself screaming at some idiot that was whining to Oprah about her life, Doreen had decided she'd better find something to fill her time.

"But how do I explain the situation to her?" I had asked Spencer when she broached the idea.

"Tell her the truth," Spencer said. "David, this is your job; you find things, information included. You found out about this – you don't need to tell her how – and you're trying to help the girl ease back into a life that was stolen from her. Her parents are dead, which, based on what you've told me, is a good thing because she sure as hell couldn't stay with them. Her sister is living with the new family that graciously took her in when mom and dad fell overboard, but you certainly can't expect them to take in a twenty-year-old just because her fourteen-year-old sister lives with them. We both know you're going to be doing your usual white-knight thing until she gets back on her feet and can take care of herself, so you may as well have her close-by, so you can keep an eye on her."

"Am I that predictable?" I asked myself.

Apparently I asked too loudly because Jamie answered, "Is that such a bad thing?"

"It was a rhetorical question," I pointed out.

"No, it wasn't," she corrected me. "You had one of those brief, shining, moments where you felt pathetic for being such a sentimental sap. I'm merely pointing out that it has its place, and it's one of your more noble qualities. Don't worry; you're plenty macho and bad-ass when the situation calls for it. In fact, I think you're more of a black knight than white – in the original sense – a free-lance warrior in pursuit of a noble cause to support or an innocent to defend, and, when you find one, you are quite capable of doing what it takes. Don't be so hard on yourself, big brother; you're a dying breed."

"Thanks, mom."

"Fuck you."

Meanwhile, what Spencer was saying made sense, and, if Doreen was willing to have someone who may be more than a little dysfunctional rooming in for a while, who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Breaking the news to Spring was going to be the really hard part. I had talked about it with Bob several times, and all I got was his usual apology for not being very helpful. Re-introducing her to her sister was the easy part. Helping the 'Spring' protector persona deal with the fact that 'Dawn', the primary, had lied to her, was going to be a whole different problem. 'Spring' may very well see her whole existence as a lie.

She saw 'Dawn' as weak and inferior because she had given up and crawled into a hole and hidden rather than face her life, when the opposite was actually true. Yes, Dawn had hidden, but not as an escape; her hiding had been a way of preserving the truth and living to fight another day. I couldn't help but wonder if the wall Spring had put up around 'Dawn' – the one that kept her isolated, safe, and locked into the image of the little girl – was as solid as 'Spring' thought.

Keeping them straight in conversation was a bit of a challenge as well. The girl was Spring; normally the protector would be the one with a different name, but, in this case, being the only 'public' persona, she had kept the name and given 'Dawn', the primary persona, a new name. When 'Dawn' woke up, she would also think of herself as 'Spring' because that was the name she had been born and grown up with. It wasn't so bad now, since 'Dawn' was still out of the public picture, but it made for some interesting conversations while we were discussing our options.

And 'interesting' didn't begin to describe what we expected when 'Spring' learned the truth.

"The question is, are you better off if you're right or if you're wrong?" Bob had pointed out.

"Jamie and I have debated the same question," I told him. "I get the impression I'm going to be playing referee for a screaming match, with both of them yelling that if the other one would just shut up and listen, maybe she would understand."

"You could be right," he admitted, "which would put you at a bit of a disadvantage for a change. Your normal grasp of interpersonal relations has never included people screaming and yelling at each other. You only had one sister, and you got along with her. If you'd had two, your upbringing might have been a lot more ... educational. The downside of a decent home life I'm afraid."

"Yeah, that occurred to me as well," I admitted. "I was wondering if we shouldn't maybe wake Dawn up first and do a little therapy to help them reconcile the issues before we bring Autumn into the picture. Let Dawn be the one to explain that she lied and why. If she can make Spring understand that it was knowledge of the truth that was putting her the most at risk, maybe ... I don't know ... it's just an idea."

"Well then, it's a good one, and apparently you do know, because I think you're exactly right. I think you – we, actually – need to spend some time with Spring, explain to her that there is a reason Dawn created her, and that it was a really good one. I don't know how she'll react to the news that her sister is still alive, but at least she may then not see 'Dawn' as being a weak-willed baby hiding from the people being mean to her. You have to understand that, whether she will admit it or not, to a great degree Spring feels like 'Dawn' abandoned her to face all this. It's her image of Dawn that you see in that little bubble, not Dawn's. Once she knows the truth ... it's hard to say how she'll react, but it doesn't have to be bad."

He was right. Actually, we both were, to an extent. I was right in my approach, and in my hope that having Dawn be the one to tell Spring the truth would be better than us doing it. Of course, that didn't make it any easier in the beginning. In spite of everything else, Spring loved Dawn, was determined to protect her at all costs, and held firmly to the idea that she would not be able to cope with the real world, even though the threat of abuse had been removed.

"I understand why you may feel that way," Bob said calmly, reassuring her that her reaction was both normal and reasonable based on what she knew.

"The problem, Spring," I said, "is that you don't know the whole truth about why she felt she needed to hide in the first place. You're a protector, so you naturally assume that what she created you to protect was her."

"What are you saying?" She asked, obviously confused. "That that's not why I'm here? That's just stupid; I'm here because she couldn't deal with reality and wanted to run away." That statement – and the tone it was delivered in – confirmed that I was right about what 'Spring' thought of 'Dawn'.

"Actually, that's only part of why you're here, Spring," Bob said. "Would you be surprised to learn that there was more to it? That she needed you to help her protect something else?"

"What do you mean she needed me to protect something else? How could you know if there was more? You weren't there, and you've never even met her."

"That's true," I said, "but would you at least give me some credit for knowing and finding out things that other people can't?"

"Well, yeah, I guess ... I mean, you figured out all of the stuff that was going on with ... you know. But that was because you can do stuff like this. Does that mean you've talked to 'Dawn' already?"

"No," I said. "You remember when I started to wake her up before?"

"Yes," she said guardedly. She obviously remembered that if I wanted to, I could do pretty much anything I wanted, and she couldn't stop me.

"Well, someone talked me out of doing it because she realized that there was more to it."

"She?" Spring said. "But the only one there was Samantha, and you left her with me."

"That's true, but that doesn't mean we were totally alone. Spring, there is a reason I understand so much about what you are feeling and what is going on. You see..."

"Jimmy," Bob said, interrupting me. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No," I said honestly. "But that's never stopped me from doing stupid things in the past, so I don't see any reason to stop now. Besides, I think it will help. Spring, the reason I understand you so well is that I have a protector of my own."

"You have a protector?" she asked, eyes wide. "But ... why would you need a protector? You can do ... anything."

"Hardly," I said with a laugh. "Would you like to meet her?"

"Her? Your protector is a girl?"

"You got a problem with that?" Jamie asked, stepping out.

Spring's jaw dropped as Jamie seemingly flowed out of me. I could sort of understand why, considering how Jamie was dressed: She looked like Walter in spike heels – fitted out head to toe in soft black leather, with a spiked collar, belt, and half-gloves, and a big-ass sword strapped to her back. She looked like she could walk into a bar full of bikers on PCP, spit in the leader's drink, and walk out in one piece again. The scary part is she probably could.

"You're his protector?" Spring asked, apparently awed by the vision of destruction before her.

"Sort of," Jamie said. "Most of the time he doesn't need me. He kicks pretty righteous ass all by himself, and, if it came down to it, he could kick my ass, too. Most of the time I just watch his back, and he keeps me from starting bar fights just for the fun of it. Every once in a while, though ... he lets me come out and play. It's generally not very pretty." There was a wicked grin on her face as she said the last part.

"Wait," Spring said. "He can kick your ass? Then how are you his protector?"

"Come on Princess," Jamie said, "you, of all people, know that there is a whole lot more to protecting someone than beating people up. I know you fought hard to keep us away from Dawn the first time we showed up, but the truth is you've spent most of your existence being fucked over by everyone you knew. You put up a good fight, but we both know that Jimmy could have taken you any time he wanted to. The reason he didn't is because he would have had to hurt you to do it, and that would have defeated the whole purpose."