Roseanne stretches out on her back, laying on the springy cot of the jail cell, aggravated because she has no candles with which to further her business of ...taking care of Tea. The greyness of the cell reminds her of her incomplete mission, of the fact that so far ... so good and, damn it, Tea needs some pain in her life. She needs to understand deprivation, needs to understand true loss. Let's face it, everything always comes full circle for Tea - for every hit, she gets a prize. It's like her misery begets happiness, begets ... rewards. Damn her.
Rolling over onto her stomach, Roseanne watches a new inmate get placed into the cell across the way, the female officer too snippy, too authoritative. The newcomer is an African-American woman, wearing plain khaki pants with a colorful print blouse, sporting long braids hanging down her back and silver earrings dangling off her lobes. But what's most provocative, most enlightening, is the gleam in her green eyes as she glances over at Roseanne. Pretty features, sharp ones, the woman had. She knows a lot, Roseanne thinks. The door slams shut and as the guard walks away, with her back to Roseanne, the young woman reaches her hands towards the ceiling and rocks her head back; reaching ... reaching. She relaxes and then turns around to Roseanne, and says ...
"What are you starin' at, girl? Somet'in' you like or somet'in' you afraid of?"
Roseanne's brow wrinkles at her accent ... she couldn't quite place it ... Haiti? Jamaica ... something like that.
"Where are you from?" she asks.
"Ah...now dat really be none a' your business now, is it?" the woman replies ... smiling again, flashing that knowingness across at Roseanne. The woman then sits down on the cot and puts her hands over her eyes, swaying back and forth, humming some non-melodic notes. Then she begins whispering words that Roseanne can't make out.
For some reason, Roseanne is transfixed by the sight ... drawn to her ...dying to know what she's doing, what she's saying. The woman gets to her knees and with her closed eyes, again, reaches upwards. After some minutes, she lowers her hands to her knees and relaxes once again.
Roseanne has to ask. "Are you praying?"
The woman laughs. "Ya'. Prayin' to da devil."
Roseanne doesn't smile back, choosing instead to sit up on the cot and push back, almost protectively. A smart-ass answer, sure, but something in the statement's tone makes her think the woman is telling the truth ... and she thinks maybe she ought to get out of the way of firing prayers.
"I use candles when I do that," Roseanne says, "and now I'm out of them...probably won't get any more for a month."
The woman chuckles. "Candles ... you really think that gonna do anyt'in? I bet you try makin' little dolls, too, eh? Ya ... make little dolls, stab dem wit pins?" she says, making stabbing gestures.
Roseanne shrugs, a little hurt by her put-down ... and she wasn't really sure why. She didn't even know this woman ... but she couldn't help feeling like she was in the presence of ... wisdom ... experience. The woman gets up, walking slowly toward the bars ... a good-natured, but still all-knowing smile on her face.
"Listen, cher' ... you don't need candles ... or tiny dolls to prick needles into. You don't need anyt'in' ... 'cept da power of YOUR mind and da WEAKNESS of your victim's. But ... you look like you might already know dat, no?"
Roseanne sniffs and offers a wry grin, "Perhaps."
The woman nods. "My name's Oba - been shut in here for a few bad checks."
Roseanne looks at her for a moment ... then gets up, walking up to the bars.
"My name's Roseanne. I'm in here for a few bad ... kidnappings. Okay...maybe only one."
"Don't tell me - da victim got away..."
Roseanne laughs a little, at the remark...at the whole situation. "Yeah, she did ... got away with ... everything. Got away with my partner's heart, got away with his sympathy, got away with making sure I'll stay in here for the rest of my child-bearing years."
Oba stands at the bars, holding them, taking in the image of Roseanne ... the image of the skinny young girl with similar khaki pants and a Llanview-inmate tee-shirt, the image of a girl failing at her efforts to affect the world around her.
"Have you shared your desires wit' your ... chosen person?" Oba asks.
"Sure ... for all the good it did me. You think my threats are going to shake her perfect concepts? Fat chance."
"Really? How you know dat?"
"Because her children were born - they were born and survived being premature ... because she and her convicted-rapist husband are livin' large ... free and clear ... without pain, without suffering, without ..." Roseanne shakes her head in aggravation. "...whatever."
" 'Dis woman...what she do to you?"
Roseanne starts to immediately answer ... then thinks about it ... and shrugs.
"To me...nothing, really."
Oba makes a face. " 'Den...why you go after her like dat?"
Roseanne stares back at her ... squinting ... starting to feel like she's being poked at under a microscope.
"Well, now THAT would be none of YOUR business."
Oba grins ... then smiles ... then breaks out in a laugh, nodding ... conceding. "Ah...tres bien..." she starts, then wraps her hands around the bars again.
"...well, don't be so sure of your failures, cher'. What you see ... not necessarily what IS."
Roseanne takes that in ... then laughs too, a little. "I like your confidence."
Oba smiles, one full of power. "Now why don't you tell me what it is you're lookin' for ... and maybe I can help you wit' your ... desires."
"Why would you wanna do that? You don't even know me."
Oba shrugs slightly. "True, I don't. But ... you seem to need my help ... and I appear to have plenty of time."
Roseanne grins back, a new energy in her heart, in her mind. A new possibility ...
*****
Tea rocks little Evan in her arms, he swaddled tightly, her eyes furrowed in worry. Brendan is sleeping in his cradle upstairs - the monitor blinking healthfully on the coffee table in front of her, no sound coming out of it ... signifying that her other little angel is peaceful. Todd is upstairs doing something ... but whatever it is ... he's quiet, too. And although the penthouse is serene, Tea feels anything BUT calm. The dream of the other night is haunting her still ... the vision of Todd pounding at the bathroom door while her babies cower behind it is too much to bear. It was pure evil she'd heard in his voice in that dream, pure evil she'd seen as he tried to break his way through the door to get to the babies ... to hurt them.
"Ridiculous..." Tea says softly to herself, as she gazes at her sleeping boy. "...he's a wonderful father...too scarred to ever do anything like that. He's never been anything but devoted and dedicated and gentle with Starr. I'm being stupid. Maybe ... I'm reflecting ... projecting ..."
She jumps when she feels a hand on her shoulder, quickly realizing it's Todd. She doesn't see the passing look of hurt on his face at her being startled.
"Todd ... sorry ... I was ... zoning," she says softly, taking a breath.
"It's late. Why don't you head to bed and I'll handle the little monsters ..."
"They're not monsters ..."
Again, Todd looks hurt and then asks, seriously, "What's going on with you, Tea?"
She tries her best to look like she has no idea what he's talking about. He kneels down in front of her.
"You've been looking at me weird all day ... like I'm a ghost or something. What's the deal?"
"Nothing ... maybe it's post-partum depression ... you know ... hormones."
"So you ARE looking at me like I'm a ghost."
"No ... no, mijo ... I'm just ... cranky, that's all ... stressed. Haven't had much sleep."
Todd nods slowly, not entirely convinced that she's telling all there is to know. He sits next to her in the other rocker and studies her face as she concentrates on smoothing out Evan's hair.
"Look, I've ... um ... kind of been where you are ..." he says.
She looks up at him, and he really notices how tired she is ... her eyes ... which usually shine brightly with energy, are dim ... heavy-lidded. He rocks forward in the chair, leaning on his knees.
"...you know - recovering from something ... really shitty. For a long time, everyone was my ... tormentor. I saw my father in everybody ... in my teachers, in the bigger guys on the football team, in the clerks in a store who didn't look at me right. I saw him in the women I raped ... in anyone who was a threat to me ... in any way whatsoever ..."
Tea blinks slowly ... taking that in, rubbing Evan's little hand, wrapped around her finger as he sleeps. She watches Todd rub his lips together - nervously - understandably.
"... so I guess if you see ME like that, like some kind of ... tormentor ... or an enemy ... I-I would understand," he finishes, his voice having dwindled to a bare whisper.
He twitches a little, smarting from the effort ... from the pain that comes from mentioning his father, from giving him any thought at all. He sits there, quickly going over history in his mind ... such a rotten history over all ... and especially with Tea. It would be understandable, he thinks ... it would make sense - if she feels that way, like he was ... a tormentor.
Tea reaches out to him, gently placing a hand on his knee. "Todd...that's not it at all," she tries to object ... but the truth is, ever since that dream, she finds herself periodically looking at him and imagining his features twisting into that ugly, angry, hateful face he can make - she can picture it so easily. And of course, it isn't just creative thinking ... it is memory. Memory ... Tea shakes her head like she is trying to clear it. She looks at Todd's face, and even through the hair hanging down, she can see that injured expression, the worry.
Slowly, carefully, so as not to disturb Evan or startle Todd, she touches the side of his face ... and does her usual thing, her favorite sign of affection ... she pushes his hair behind his ear ... and says gently, "I love you - so very much ... I'm incredibly thankful that we're here ... that we made it, y'know? That we're here, together ... in our house ... in our own little world ... with our new babies. They're so beautiful ... and I can see YOU in them ... and if I saw you as a tormentor, then ... wouldn't I be afraid of THEM, too?"
Lawyer logic ... Todd shrugs one shoulder, shaking his head slightly, telling Tea that he wasn't all that sure.
Tea finishes her thought, "I would definitely be afraid ... but I don't see that in them ... and I don't see you that way, either."
"Would you tell me if you did?" he asks right back, turning toward her. She hesitates and he catches it ... shaking his head again.
"See? Doesn't matter - don't worry about it, Delgado. Here - let me take Evan from you."
With a sigh, he gets up and takes Evan gently from Tea's arms, smiling slightly at his baby, automatically doing that ... and whispers under his breath as he heads toward the stairs.
"Don't wake up, little guy ... shhh ..."
Tea leans back into the cushions, feeling like crap for making him feel bad ... and just feeling like crap overall. She shuts her eyes, tightly, shaking her head, yelling at herself in her mind...
What the hell is the matter with you? How could you do that ... it was JUST A DREAM...
... a stupid dream ... and YOU'RE being stupid, too ...
The phone interrupts her self-chastisement and she reaches over to pick it up. Expecting Carlotta, instead of a "hello," she says, "They're fine - they're both fine and they're both actually sleeping at the same time."
A male voice responds with, "And I couldn't be happier."
Tea's mouth falls open in instant recognition ... she lets out a hard breath.
"Y'know...the police are looking for you - this phone might be tapped."
On the other end, Dean examines a fingernail as he stands at a pay phone ... somewhere ... else.
"Eh, let 'em ... it's not like they're gonna find me anyhow."
She swallows hard, his voice confusing her ... his power and confidence evident. She can hear and picture him simultaneously, and it fills her with fear ... but also an equal amount of relief. She can practically hear Dean smile, she can envision that one crooked tooth of his, those eyes of his. He'd saved her from those bastards in the abandoned building ... had saved her from losing the twins at their hands ... had saved her from Roseanne's further cruelty, had ... just saved her, period.
"What do you want?" she asks, quietly ... her own voice strained with mixed emotion.
"I don't know. Just to hear that you're okay, I guess."
Still trying to save me ... she thinks, as a tear leaks out. She rolls her eyes upward to keep more of them from leaking out.
"Well, don't concern yourself, okay? I'm FINE ... and YOU ... you have to stop doing this. Please ... just ... leave me alone."
Dean makes a concerned face on the other end, hearing the stress in her voice, the strain.
"Tea ... you're not fine, I can tell. Talk to me."
In a flash of temper and anxiety, she gets up and looks toward the stairs, making sure Todd isn't on his way down. Then she whirls around, whispering loudly into the phone.
"You listen to me. I ... I will always be grateful for what you did for me, alright? But that's where it ends. You don't know me, and I don't WANT to get to know you. Now you've got it good ... you even said, nobody's gonna find you. So don't screw it up now by thinking that you have to ... take care of me, or something ..."
Dean sighs at that ... unable to respond. Tea tosses another glance up the stairs, hearing movement ... then she leans into the phone again.
"I'm hanging up now. DON'T call here again ... I mean it."
With that, she shuts off the phone and throws it down on the couch ... she closes her eyes, trying to understand herself, trying to understand what is happening to her. Hormones ... that's what it is ... it's gotta be ... hormones. Post-partum depression - isn't that what they call it? Isn't that what they call that illness that can drive women to murder their own children?
... their OWN children ...
With her teeth, she clenches down on her lower lip to stop herself from crying again. Why ... WHY did she feel these mixed feelings for a man who nearly ruined her life ... forever? Somebody who drugged her, stuffed her in a trunk, tied her to a chair, held her for ransom ...
... and here she is, having worse thoughts about her own husband, who, she suddenly remembers, did some of the same things to her. Oh, god ... WHAT is the matter with me ...?
She sinks down on the couch, burying her face in her hands, trying to keep her brain, throbbing with stress and anxiety ... inside her head. She remembers back, to earlier that afternoon ...
From her bed, as she napped out of pure exhaustion, she'd awakened momentarily to the sight of Todd fussing over Brendan. She watched him change the little tee-shirt on that tiny body; and Todd was so gentle, so afraid to hurt the baby, it was almost heartbreaking. He didn't want to wake Evan ... didn't want to wake Tea ... and didn't want to disrupt Brendan's surprisingly quiet acceptance of the process. And at the very end - when that tee-shirt made it all the way on, when the blanket got replaced, Todd smiled like a kid and kissed the top of Brendan's head. And when he kissed his boy, Todd looked like a father - an essential man.
It was at that moment that she had realized something, some poetic fact ... that Evan was more like herself in his touchiness, in his hating things to be out of order, in his demand for things to happen NOW, in his delicacy. And Brendan, was more like Todd ... in his stoic tolerance of discomfort, in his strength. Yes, even at this early stage, the traits were evident ... and the more she thinks about it, the more sure she is of this reflection. She herself had been a sickly baby, her brothers used to say ... so it made sense that Evan would be the more fragile of the twins; the one needing more.
And Todd ... Tea always imagined the kind of child he must have been ... abused - yet strong ... a survivor, always on the lookout. He had sucked in that abuse and turned it back onto society ... he hadn't shriveled beneath it ... he ... had used it - poorly, maybe ... but he'd used it nevertheless. Again - on the lookout. Likewise, that is how she finds herself looking at Brendan. Even though he is only weeks old - there have already been moments where he's shown a cutting awareness of his surroundings, of his world. Just like Todd, who could walk into a situation and know what's what immediately, Brendan always seems to know when ... and when not ... to make a ruckus. There were times when Evan would be screaming his lungs out, and she would naturally check on Brendan to make sure Evan's crying wasn't upsetting him - and there he'd be, eyeing her right back. Big eyes, looking about ... almost as if he were telling her to get on with the chore of shutting his brother up, and patiently waiting for his turn to belt out his hunger, or wetness or need for a hug. Absorbing the discomfort ... waiting to use it when it would best benefit him.
Granted, patience isn't Todd's strongest suit, but it is Brendan's awareness that strikes Tea - THAT is Todd.
And then a horrible thought creeps in ... a little slithering, snaky thought. That ... that ... if they were abused, Evan wouldn't make it ... but Brendan would. God ... she shivers and shuts her eyes, opening them to Todd's bounding down the stairs, mumbling something about a disaster at the Sun. Her thoughts fade away at seeing his flying hair, his manic energy.
"I have to run," he says, "I just called over to the Sun and ... Jesus ... something happened with the press ... and we're going to be late ... and ... anyway ... you want me to call Carlotta? You really can't be alone here."
She smiles at him, as best she can, with all the crazy thoughts running around in her head.
"No, I'll be fine," she says ... then with his help, drags her tired self off the rocker. He stands in front of her and very carefully, leans in and kisses her lips lightly. She can feel the worry that he's carrying, she can feel it in his kiss ...
"I love you, Delgado..." he whispers. "...I just do."
"I know ... I love you, too," she whispers back, moving in for another kiss ... she relishes the warmth of it, letting him linger, letting him be affectionate. But when she opens her eyes in the middle of their connection, she is surprised to see steely, cold eyes looking at her, too. Eyes full of suspicion rather than love, full of ... what?
She pulls back, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he answers, his expression softening. "Who called?"
She blinks at that ... then shrugs, quickly, covering. "Oh...Carlotta ... she called ... checking up us ... then someone else called on the other line, one of those aggravating sales people."
There it is ... that awareness, Tea thinks ... Todd's constant awareness, his radar for danger ... for things amiss that might lead to his or his family's getting hurt. Looking out for something to use. He and Brendan would probably be quite a team when he gets older ... Brendan as Todd's lookout ... the one who would keep an eye on things, who would call it like it is ... who could see through lies ...
Assuming your husband is still around, mija...
Todd makes a little 'hmm' sound, distracting her from her thoughts. He leans in and kisses her lightly again. "I'm leaving my cell phone on ... you know. You have the number - you call me if ANYTHING happens. I'm turning on the alarm - here."
"I'll be fine, really."
"Yeah, wel l... that's what you said ... last time I left you alone."
She sighs, rubbing his arm gently. "Todd...nothing is going to happen, okay? D-...Shelton's not stupid. He's not gonna risk coming here, or anywhere near us."
Todd glances down for a moment then back up at her. "Yeah, but he's still OUT there ... and that ... makes me nervous. Doesn't it make YOU nervous?"
"Well...yeah, of course it does - but ... we have an alarm ... we have that guard out on the street ... we're fine. He'll never get to us again."
Todd lingers on her face for a moment ... beautiful ... but exhausted. Not wanting to upset her with more Shelton talk, he simply nods, letting it drop ... then letting go of her, he offers some plain words of parting. He turns and heads towards the front door, punching in the code to the alarm. He steps out, taking one last expressionless glance at Tea ... she smiles, waving ... then he shuts the door.
Alone in the living room, Tea sighs, tired ... tired of her fears, of her nervousness. Slowly she makes her way to her bed ... desperately hoping for a couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep.
*****
Todd never goes to the Sun offices because there is no emergency. Instead, he drives straight toward Club Indigo to get together with RJ Gannon. Since Shelton's escape, RJ has had some people looking out for Shelton; he's bugged the telephones at the penthouse, and has tracers on the cell phones ...all at Todd's request ... and all, a secret from Tea. But, as it was during and after the kidnapping, both of them were bound and determined to protect her ... and to track that fuck-Shelton down and make sure he never gets out of Statesville again.
The club itself is hopping and Todd forces his way through the touchy crowd until he hits the bar. He puts some money down and asks for his usual shot of whiskey ... looking around for RJ, but not seeing him. The bartender recognizes him and leans in.
"Looking for RJ?"
Todd squints at him ... then nods. "Yeah...he around?"
"He's in the back. Hold on, I'll get him," the guy says, leaving the bar for a second to duck into the back office. Todd sits down on the bar stool, taking a deep breath and downing the shot.
In the back office, RJ sits at a desk, with a tiny earpiece on, listening to the phone conversations from that day. He jots down a few notes, then his face suddenly changes as he listens to the last call. He ignores the knock at the door, pushing the earpiece in to hear more clearly. The bartender finally pushes the door open a crack, poking his head in.
"Boss..."
RJ holds up a hand, still listening ... the bartender waits a second, as RJ finishes, tugging on the wire and yanking the earpiece out. He tosses it down on the desk, then looks up at his bartender.
"What?" he asks, annoyed.
"That Manning guy's outside lookin' for you," the bartender answers, then closes the door.
RJ falls back in the chair, sighing ... shaking his head angrily, at what he just heard. He stays there for a moment, trying to cool off before going out to face Todd. Finally, he gets up, brushing his jacket off, and heads out into the club. Todd spots him and stands up, leaning on the bar.
RJ nods at him. " 'Sup, man?" he says slickly, shaking Todd's hand.
"What do you have?" Todd asks, downing the next shot that the bartender just poured for him.
"Nothin' yet - but ... I do have a name - one of his old buddies - a Kyle Johanson. He might know something ..."
"And where is this guy?"
"San Quentin."
Todd rolls his eyes. "What a surprise."
"It's okay - one of my guys is gonna pay him a little visit," RJ says, then glances away ... feeling uncomfortable, because he's holding out ... because he's NOT telling Todd something VERY important ... that he just heard the phone call Shelton made to Tea. He bites his lip, knowing there's no way he can say anything about it until he speaks to Tea, personally. Because although the two men have reached a sort-of friendship, RJ's loyalties lie with Tea ... first, foremost, and always. Besides, it was something too dangerous ... too ... volatile to place into Todd's hands right now. RJ glances back at him, making note of his nervous energy ... and it reminds him that Todd had a hard enough time keeping his cool as it was. If he told him about this now, the guy would go ballistic, no question.
And nobody needed THAT right now ... it wasn't the time. Not yet, anyway.
Finally, RJ grins widely and pats Todd on the shoulder, evoking a scowl from him.
"It's cool, man..." RJ purrs. "...this guy won't be on the run long. Trust me."
Todd studies him for a moment ... then smirks. "Damn straight."
*****
As soon as Tea hits the sheets, she falls into a deep sleep, the blankness of it welcomed by her, the absence of thought, treasured. The smells of baby lotion, powder, diapers, of soft new skin, accompany her rapid fall. The sounds of Brendan's and Evan's gentle breaths sooth her descent. And when she hits that space ... that wonderful place of rest, she can hear chimes, the music of lullabies, a woman's voice singing the verses ... so sweet ... so wonderful ... she's been so tired ...
As the last lights go out on the women's cellblock in Llanview city jail, Roseanne knows what she wants. She wants revenge ... pain for the "blessed one" ... and the best way for that to come is through the baby boy angels ... through their eyes ... through their hearts. So Roseanne does what her new-found friend told her ... she simply prays. She gets on her knees in the cold jail cell and looks to the dark heavens for the answer, for her resolution. She takes deep, deep breaths, concentrating ... calling out to a dark force using only her mind, only her determination, to envision her curse ... to breathe life into it.
And the words start coming out, smoothly ... easily ... in a song-like prayer ... almost like a lullaby ...
"Sleep, Angels ... sleep in your little beds ... sleep with the moon above you ... with the stars ... next to you ..."
*****
In her sleep, Tea smiles at the picture of her sweet babies sleeping in their swinging cradles ... hanging beneath a full, bright Puerto Rican moon, beneath Puerto Rican stars, beneath the swaying leaves of gentle beach trees. The breeze is smooth and Tea can hear a gentle lullaby pushing along the cradles ... gently rocking them ... gently swinging them ....
"... don't you worry about the night ... don't you worry about the dark ... because you are watched ..."
As Tea looks over her shoulder in that dream, as she looks across the empty night-covered beach, she sees something coming towards her ... sees someone approaching her. It is so comforting, the sight, and she waves, running towards the person, calling out ...
"Abuelita!! Come!! Ven aqui! Mis hijos!! You must see them!!"
The person has a light about them - Tea can't see the face - but the assurance in the person's walk, the scent of experience, of practiced existence, makes Tea sure it is her grandmother. Sure of it.
"You have to come!" Tea calls out, moving closer to the person, moving easily across the sand. Gliding almost.
"Abuelita!!!"
"...don't you cry at the moon, little Angels, don't you cry at the darkness ... for it can only harm you up close and now it's far ... Don't you cry at the light, little Angels ... for it will only make you sleep ... it's the heat of truth you must run from ... it's the heat of truth ... sleep now, little Angels... for the sleep of death awaits you ... at the hands of love..."
As the person approaches, as Tea gets closer, her excitement fades, her anxiousness passes ... as the person comes into clearer view, her eyes widen in terror ... because it isn't her grandmother coming for the children ...
... it is the Devil ... and he is dressed in black, with a long, flowing coat and behind him is the fire of Hell, lighting his path ... and all she can see are the gleaming teeth behind his grin ... and she screams out ...
"NOOOO!!! YOU STAY AWAY FROM THEM!! NOOOO!!!!"
Her heart is in her throat and she tries to run to the babies, tries to reach them in their cradles ... but the sand catches her feet and she can't run. The sand seems to grasp onto her and hold her in place. She has no energy, her desperate efforts are doing nothing ... and behind her, the Devil laughs ... calling out the names of the children ...
"Brendan ... Evan ... here I am ... here I am..."
It is sing-song and it sounds so familiar ... so ... familiar ...
"...here I am ... come to Papa ..."
Tea screams again and tries to reach the children ... but they seem to only get farther away from her and the Devil ... is only getting closer. And the babies are crying ... both of them, crying. Tea screams again and falls hard into the sand ... reaching out for her children ... for Brendan and Evan but the breeze kicks up the sand into her eyes. And when she hears the Devil's voice again, she knows who it is ... she knows the black clothes and the grin that twists his features into an ugly ... violent ... face of hatred.
"...here I am, my babies. Here I am. Papa loves you ... don't be afraid, don't be afraid to sleep..."
"TODD!!! OH MY GOD!!! NOOOOOO!!!" Tea screams again with everything she has, and as she feels herself sinking into the sand, into darkness ... she catches one last glimpse of him...
...and he has gotten to them. He has gotten to her angels ... to her precious, innocent ... angels.
*****
Todd fights Tea's clawing hands, but he continues to hold her, to try to assure her that everything is alright.
"Tea!! It's me!! It's okay!! It's just me!!"
"NOOOO!!! STAY AWAY!!!"
Tea is near-hysterical as she flails against him - her face is wet with tears and Todd is truly afraid for her. And it is because of that fear, perhaps against his better judgment, that he maintains a tight grip on her.
"TEA!! WAKE UP!!"
Finally, she gasps and wakes up, her eyes searching wildly around the room. When she sees him, she only looks more fearful ... and he lets go of her quickly. She hops out of the bed but the children are gone ... the bassinets are gone and she swings around, again, with complete terror.
"WHERE ARE THEY?!! WHAT DID YOU DO WITH THEM!!!"
"They're in the other room! I moved them when I saw you were getting so upset ... you were screaming ... I moved them so they wouldn't wake up!"
Tea flies out of the room and runs down the hall, bursts into their room ... into the peaceful sanctuary of the nursery, lit by a revolving night light ... and with her hand over her mouth, with her shaking body, she sees they are sleeping soundly in their bassinets. Not crying ... not missing ... not hurt. They'd just ... been moved is all. Todd had moved them. She listens for their breaths and they are breathing ... gently, effectively. She cries into her hands, silently and turns back around, easing the door closed. She walks back down the hall, unsteadily ... her shoulders shaking from her silent crying.
She sees Todd standing outside the bedroom door at a complete loss, still in his long, flowing coat, still in his dark clothes. She lets out a frightened breath, glancing away from him ... shutting her eyes to get the horrible images out of her mind. Then after a moment, Tea walks over to him, standing a few feet away. She raises her eyes to him and chokes out, "I'm sorry ... I just ... had such a horrible dream ... I'm so sorry ..."
Todd watches her carefully ... but sees that she is starting to settle down, a little. He takes a half-step toward her, hands out, in a calming gesture.
"Hey ... it's alright, it's okay ... I know what those dreams can be like. But I'm ... I'm worried about you ... I thought ... you'd gotten better ... but you haven't. This is all because of that bastard, Shelton ... I just know it."
Tea can see in his face that he really is worried; he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't touch her ... and for a while, they stand apart like that. Finally, Tea takes a long, deep breath, letting it out slowly, through the mouth. It sends a wave of calm through her, that gives her back a little strength. Then she looks back at him, wiping her face ... she reaches out to him and gently clasps his hands with hers. Todd feels her grip, light at first, then it tightens ... he grips back as she looks at his long hair ... and looks at the black coat that hangs near to the floor - it would flow backwards had he been standing on a beach ... on a dark, Puerto Rican beach. But the image has faded - she doesn't see him that way; she no longer sees the horrible demon ...
... she just sees him ... the one she loves ... has always loved ... will always love ... and it brings more tears to her eyes, tears of anger at herself, tears of confusion ...
Why ... WHY am I so afraid that he is going to hurt the children? It makes no sense!!
She moves close to him, whispering as he wraps his arms around her, and cries into his shoulder ...
"Oh, Todd ... I'm so sorry ... I don't know what's wrong with me ... I feel like ... I'm losing my mind ..."
He shuts his eyes at that, hugging her to him. "Shhh...it's alright..." he whispers back, as he holds her tightly in his arms and she cries openly.
"... there's nothing wrong with you, Tea ... it was just a dream, that's all," he whispers into her hair.
Just a dream ... a nightmare ... but what the hell kind of nightmare WAS that? What was she seeing to make her panic like this ... and why ... was it about the boys now? The nightmares she had before were all related to the kidnapping ... what had happened to her ...
... but now, she was dreaming about their kids ... having nightmares about something bad happening to them. He stares blankly ahead of him, stares at the children's room ... and doesn't know what to do. But he knows that something ... something is terribly wrong now ...
...a nd as he holds Tea, tries to comfort her, he realizes that he's as scared as she is now.
*****
Roseanne gets up off her knees and stretches her muscles, stretches her whole body and smiles broadly ... feeling so good ... so cleansed. She runs her hands over her body and closes her eyes blissfully, sighing satisfactorily. She has no idea if her curses are working - but at the moment, it doesn't matter. It was a glorious, incredible prayer ... a perfect ... perfect night of devotion.
Lying on her bunk in the dark, Oba watches as she steps up to the bars, smiling.
"Ah..." Oba whispers, knowingly ...f eeling the vibes from her, even at such a distance.
"... so ... whatchu tink now, cher'? You tink you need candles?"
Roseanne smiles even wider, whispering back to her new friend. "Thank you, Oba."
"I told you...de forces are always there...within you ... above you ...all around...all de time."
Roseanne nods, knowing it now ... feeling it. "Yeah ... I think you're right."
To Be Continued...
