By the time Ginger was able to begin to think straight, the clock indicated
that the time was six o’clock in the evening. Throughout the day, she had
been wandering around her room, picking up books and papers, than setting
them down. Clouds of thought had floated throughout her head meaninglessly,
simply naming events.
The death of Jessie and James. Giovanni’s trial. The police breaking into
headquarters. And that morning, with Shadow’s accusations, the news reports,
and the letters.
Now she suddenly looked out the window at the darkening, cloudy sky.
Despite warnings from the newscasters, no rain had fallen, but she figured
it would be coming soon. She hoped it did, actually, because the rain would
fit her emotions nicely.
She knew what she had done, she had killed two people in cold blood.
Thinking about it, she realized that it was wrong. She realized it, yet she
didn’t care. “They deserved it,” she rationalized. “After what they did.
But another very small part of her mind, a sensible part, kept telling her
otherwise. It told her she shouldn’t have done it, that they would have
gotten what was coming to them.
Shaking her head furiously, Ginger nearly cried out, “They DESERVED it!”
Luckily, she caught herself just in time, and simply spoke it in the empty
room.
“Why am I caught in this anyway?” she thought warily. “Why do I have to
deal with this?”
Over the past few days she had been feeling a terrible amount of stress
pressing on her, as well as something else. She kept sensing this sharp,
heavy feeling that made her uncomfortable whenever she felt it. Because she
felt that she knew what it was. Ginger was pretty sure that she was sensing
doom.
Walking over to her desk, she picked up the knife blade, which she had
finally cleaned at about noon. With the blood gone, the metal flashed in the
dimming light, and she felt the urge again. The urge to kill.
As much as she wanted to stop these feelings, as much as she wanted to be
good, she didn’t. Inside of her there was a strange source of hate, and at
that moment she wanted to kill the others. Those who had testified again the
Rockets in court. They had to be punished; had too!
“And they will…” she muttered, “They will.”
Suddenly, her eyes became transfixed to the blade, and her mind once more
froze momentarily. She didn’t hear the others downstairs. The wind outside
went unheard by her. She didn’t even hear the car pull in the driveway.
Shadow looked across the large living room at Dan, who had a look of worry
on his face. From what the girl could tell, it was worse than it had been
before, and that was pretty bad. “What’s wrong, Dan?”
When he looked up, she wanted to cry out at the look in his eyes. The
tired, defeated look was now strained and dead. “Nothing…” he muttered.
“Don’t tell me that,” Shadow stood up, concerned, and walked over to him.
“What’s wrong?”
She sat down next to him on the couch, and immediately noticed that he
seemed to become a little more attentive. “I…” he trailed off, and Shadow
realized that he didn’t want to tell her.
“Come on, Danny,” she mused, looking straight into his haggard eyes and
using the name she seldom used. “Tell me, please.”
“All right…” he started reluctantly. “I’m just worried that… that they’ll
think I killed them.”
Shadow nodded knowingly, understanding right away what he was saying.
“Don’t worry, they won’t.”
A look of relief passed over Dan’s eyes, and Shadow was glad to see the
eyes brighten noticeably. “You really think so?”
Shadow nodded, feeling as though she were in a dream. She had never
comforted Dan to this extent before, never been able to help someone like
this until now. “I know so.” It had been the first line she could think of,
and though it felt corny at first, she decided it had been the right thing
to say.
“Thanks, Shadow…” Dan ducked his head shyly, looking at the girl.
Suddenly, Shadow felt a strange impulse, and turned away. She felt stupid
for doing so, but she did it. “Why did I do that…?” she wondered, slightly
ashamed.
“Shadow…” Dan started, and she felt his hand on her arm.
“Yes,” she gulped slightly, not sure of why she was acting so odd. Thinking
back, she realized that she had been acting like this for awhile, drawing
back from him all the time.
“Why do I do it?” she wondered. “Why do I turn away?”
The answer was unclear to her, but she wanted to walk away from it. There
had to be a way to get herself to go to him, had to…
“Shadow? Shadow?” Dan’s voice broke her thoughts.
Biting her tongue, she turned back around and found herself staring
straight into his concerned face.
“Dan, I’m sorry…” she stammered. “I just…”
“I understand, Shadow,” he nodded knowingly. “I understand.”
Looking into his eyes, Shadow realized he did. “In time, I may stop drawing
away.”
“I can wait,” he smiled slightly.
At that moment, Shadow heard a car pull into their driveway. “Who…?” she
asked.
“Probably Felicity,” the young man guessed.
“Yeah,” Shadow agreed. “Probably.”
The sound of a doorbell shook those thoughts, however, and they looked at
each other. Shadow knew there was no way this was Felicity, since she would
never ring or knock.
“Mike…” Dan called.”
“I’m getting it,” Mike called back.
Shadow looked at Dan again and saw the worried expression on his face.
“Don’t worry, it’s not the police.”
“You’re right,” he looked at her with what she knew as longing. “You’re
right.”
Mike picked up his handgun from the television in his room and headed out
the door. Someone was here, and that someone might not be welcome.
He had been in fairly high spirits ever since the note had been read. Mike
had been feeling that they should restart the team, and now Giovanni had
instructed them to do it. With the feeling of excitement building inside of
him, he personally was ready for action.
Peering through the window, he saw that rain had begun to fall slowly, and
the dim streetlamps had blinked on. Looking into the driveway, he saw the
car that their ‘guest’ had arrived in. It was a sleek black Grand Prix,
waxed and perfectly clean.
The car looked familiar, and Mike couldn’t remember why. “I know I’ve seen
it before…” he muttered to himself, but was interrupted by the doorbell’s
second buzz.
Walking up to the door, he placed his hand on the gold-painted knob and
pulled the door open, raising the gun at the same time.
“Whoa, killer. Easy,” the slightly-sarcastic, soft yet hard male’s voice
broke into the room.
In the doorway, Mike saw, stood a young man, about twenty-three years old
with an average build, and a little taller than average height. He had
steely gray eyes that demanded answers, and an expression that said ‘I know
what you’re thinking.’
Mike realized that he did know this guy.
“Come on in, Matt,” he stepped aside, lowering the gun.
“Nice to see you again,” Matt nodded at Mike as he stepped inside, as if
he’d been there many times before.
“Same,” Mike nodded, smiling and stepping aside.
“I came when I heard about the… problem. I was on a trip when it happened,”
he explained, searching the room quickly with his deep eyes.
“Yeah… the problem…” Mike trailed off noticeably, and Matt looked at him
strangely.
“What’s wrong?” For as long as he had known Mike, he’d never seen him with
that strangely thoughtful mood on his face, the one that was floating over
it like a thick fog. The look was there, all right, but difficult to catch.
“Nothin’…” Mike shrugged, and once again, Matt wondered.
“So, who all is here?”
“Well, I am…” Mike began, his eyes rolling around slightly.
“I can see that,” Matt laughed softly, a laugh that was met with a grin.
“Dan and Shadow, Trae…”
“That scientist bitch?” Matt asked without hesitation, than groaned.
“Sorry…”
“Naw, don’t say that,” Mike looked amused. “I know how you feel.”
“That’s right…” Matt remembered the first tike he’d met Trae at
headquarters, and how her attitude always came off arrogant and precise.
Hell, it was the same with all of those science freaks. Uptight and buried
with calculations and organization.
“Felicity…”
“She’s here?” Matt raised an eyebrow, and saw that this time it was Mike
giving him the searching look.
“Yeah… so what?”
“No reason,” he shook his head, though he knew there was something.
Felicity was one of the people he didn’t think were trustworthy in a time
like what they were in, though, judging by Mike’s reaction, it would be
unwise to mention it right away.
After all, he’d come to help calm the problems, not start them. He’d always
been good with working things out, which probably led to his job as one of
the top workers in the Torture Division of Team Rocket. He had been on an
assignment in the Orange Islands when the police had broken in, and found
out immediately when he returned that the Rockets had been burnt.
The first thing he had done was to find information. He was pretty damn
good at that, and soon he had found where several loyal Rocket members were
staying. He felt lucky that he had been able to find these agents, but he
was looking for one certain person, one certain girl…
“Oh,” Mike looked at him again, grinning. “You’re gonna love this. Ginger
is here, too.”
Matt felt his heart skip a beat, and he nearly choked on a quick intake of
air. So he had found her. She was here, in this house… “Whoa,” was all he
managed.
“Yeah,” Mike chuckled. “Whoa. She’s upstairs.”
“Thanks…” Matt turned to walk up the steps, but stopped when he saw Dan and
Shadow peering around the corner. “Hey, guys.”
“Hey, Matt,” they waved in unison, seeming relieved, and he had a feeling
that they had believed he was someone else. Of course, he didn’t blame them,
times were tense, and they weren’t used to this.
“I’m uh…” he nodded up the stairs, and they nodded back, understanding. Of
course they understood.
He climbed the stairs, looking around when he got to the top. Down to the
right was a hall with several doors, and to the left were two large, wooden
doors. Turning toward the large doors, he hoped that his intuition was
right, and that Ginger was behind the door.
God, how long had it been since he’d seen her? A couple months at least,
but it seemed longer. A lot longer.
Shoving open the doors, he was met with the slightly-musty smell of old
books, and he saw shelves stacked high with them. There was a desk straight
ahead of the door, and on the side was a bed with a lamp table. The room
obviously belonged to somebody.
“Hello?” he called out, feeling a strange emptiness about the large room.
“Matt?” he heard her slightly cold yet comforting voice before he saw her,
and stepped into the room.
She stood to one side of the room, apparently simply standing, and her face
calm yet cold and hard. Matt remembered her, and realized that she looked
slightly harder now. Her sparkling emerald green eyes had dulled, her auburn
hair was still smooth looking but not pulled behind her ears, her expression
was slightly off, and even her posture held a strange aura to it. Still, she
was Ginger.
“Hello, Ginger,” he shut the door quietly, as though it would kill one of
them if he didn’t.
“What are you doing here?” she questioned, walking towards him, though he
could tell from the look in her deep eyes that she knew very well what he
was doing.
Moving over to her bed, covered with a dark-blue comforter, Matt sat down
slowly, as if he had been there all his life. “I think you know.”
-
Following the young man slowly over to the bed, Ginger stood looking at him
for a second, regarding the serious, caring gaze. She hadn’t seen him in a
long time. In fact, she hadn’t seen him in at least two and a half months.
He was wearing a black suit and tie, and Ginger realized at once that he had
been working on an assignment, although he did normally wear the dressy
attire. Judging by what he usually did, she figured it had something to do
with torture. And why not, he was good at it? He hadn’t mentioned it yet,
but that was typical of Matt. ‘Get down to business’ was his type of style.
There was something else there, though. Modesty was a top quality of his,
and one she admired. Never in her life had she really liked anyone who would
constantly brag and boast about their accomplishments. Matt did his job, did
it well, in fact, than was quiet about it unless asked by close friends. How
could she not admire him for it?
And of course she knew why he was there. She knew very well why he was at
the house. First, he had heard about it. Than, he had come without stopping
for long…
Ginger realized that she had let her eyes and mind wander, and looked back
at Matt, who was obviously waiting for her to reply. “You heard about what
happened to the team, and you came here to see if you could help.”
“Exactly,” Matt nodded, his shady-brown hair reflecting the light of the
room slightly.
“That was…” she looked at him, and knew he understood. For some reason, she
was having a hard time thinking clearly.
“Well,” she thought, “I guess there is a good reason. Or, rather, a few good
reasons.”
“So…” she tried to think of something to say, but found herself unable.
“Sit down,” Matt motioned next to him with his gray eyes, eyes Ginger had
often looked into and gotten lost in.
She nodded and did so, feeling slightly uncomfortable, not knowing what to
say. Luckily for her, Matt had something to say.
“I heard Jessie and James were killed,” he looked at her with a look that
made it clear that he knew, that he had known from the start. It was a look
he used when questioning prisoners of the Rockets, and did it without even
noticing anymore. “You did it.”
“Yeah…” she cringed back slightly. Would he give her the same response
Shadow had? She hoped not. She really, really hoped not…
Surprisingly to her tired mind, he smiled. “Nice job. I heard about it, and
heard about the job…” he looked right into her eyes and she immediately felt
that feeling of being captured. “I knew right away that you did it.”
“How?” Ginger was momentarily afraid. If he had been able to figure it out,
than maybe someone else would, too.
“I know you too well to believe otherwise, Ginger,” he spoke as if it were
common sense, which, she supposed, it probably was to him. “I knew that you
would be angry for what they did at the trial,” she felt her muscles tighten
at the mention of what had happened, and felt the rage nipping at the back
of her mind once again. “And I knew you would want to get back at them.”
She simply looked at him, unable to talk, but feeling slightly better. The
tone of voice he used was persuasive, calm, yet commanding. That was another
thing she liked about him, his voice.
“I stand behind your decision,” he smiled, and suddenly she wanted to be
against him, to feel the warmth of another human being. She hadn’t in a long
time… Though she decided it probably felt longer than it really had been.
Moving over, she leaned against his side, tensing her body for him to push
her away. He just smiled. Somehow, she had known he would, because he was
Matt after all, he never pushed away, and she knew that he wanted her to
feel comfortable.
“Ginger, I swear I’ll do what I can to help,” he reached out his left arm
and wrapped it around her thin waist. Ginger felt her muscles tighten and
than relax, and she smiled slightly.
“I know you will,” she snuggled against him, feeling an uncommon sense of
calm.
“I wish this wouldn’t have happened,” he looked down at her, and she felt
herself staring to drift off. “I wish to God it hadn’t, but it did.” Just
having him there made her feel better. After all, Matt understood her. As he
continued, she knew it to be the truth. “It did, and I’ll be here for all of
you… especially you.”
“Thank you…”she murmured, feeling her eyelids close. She knew she was
falling asleep, but she didn’t care. Knowing she needed the sleep helped
console her, but knowing that Matt was there helped more.
-
Matt ran his fingers through Ginger’s thick, silky hair as he felt her fall
against him, her eyes closing. She was falling asleep, and he knew it, but
in a way, he was glad. Looking at her tired eyes, he knew she could use it.
At that moment he knew he had done the right thing is going. On the way he
had had his doubts, had thought about what could happen, and had wondered.
Once he had seen Ginger, though, he had known he couldn’t leave.
Quietly and smoothly, so he wouldn’t awaken Ginger, Matt gently moved her
from his shoulder onto the bed, than smiled. She really was quite pretty, as
far as he was concerned.
Pretty, but in need of help. He had realized that the moment he had seen
her. She was lost in this confusion, and if someone didn’t help her, she
would be buried in it. As far as he was concerned, there was too much
pressure in her life, and no way for her to release it.
Well, except for the killing. The murders obviously let her blow off steam.
Matt did really have a problem with that sort of thing, he did it everyday.
If she continued, though, there was a chance she’d be caught… He didn’t want
her to take that chance.
Switching the lights off, he opened the door and stood looking in at the
sleeping figure on the bed. “I won’t let it happen…” he muttered, than
turned, closed the door, and headed downstairs.
