Kurt shrugged, a jingle of chains. "Nope. Slow day. Some days just
are. Was thinking of seeing a movie or something. Wanna come?"
"I can't," Anton said.
"Sure," Brett said, oblivious to the fact that the invitation hadn't
really been directed at him. "I'd like that."
"O-kaaay," Kurt said. "Great. Gimme an hour or so and meet me out
front."
"It's a date."
#
He was half a block from home when he spotted Natalie sitting on her
porch, staring at the park. Kurt and Link were gone. The patio at the
Greek's was full. He was stood in his bare feet in the middle of
Kensington Market on a busy shopping day, and he had absolutely nowhere
to go. Nowhere he belonged.
He realized that Natalie had never put him in touch with her boss at
Martian Signal.
Barefoot, there wasn't much of anywhere he could go. But he didn't want
to be home with Mimi and he didn't want to walk past Natalie. Barefoot,
he ended up in the alleyway behind Kurt's again, with nowhere else to
go.
#
Blake and Kurt got back around suppertime, and by then Alan had counted
every shingle on the roofs of the garages, had carefully snapped the
sharps off of two syringes he found in some weeds, and then sat and
waited until he was ready to scream.
Blake walked confidently into the shop, through Kurt's nest, and to the
back door. He opened it and smiled at Adam. "Come on in," he said.
"Right," Alan said. "How was the movie?"
"It was fine," Kurt said.
"Incredible," Burt said. "I mean, *incredible*. God, I haven't been to
the movies in ten years at least. So *loud*, Jesus, I've never heard
anything like that."
"It was just A&E," Kurt said. "Asses and explosions."
Alan felt a wave of affection for his friend, and an indefinite sadness,
a feeling that they were soon to be parted.
Kurt stretched and cracked his knuckles. "Getting time for me to go out
diving."
"Let's go get some dinner, okay?" Andy said to Brad.
"G'night guys," Kurt said, locking the door behind them.
"I'm sorry," she said. There had been five minutes of
near-silence on the line, only the girl crying in the background
at his end. She wasn't sure if he'd set the phone down or if he
was listening, but the "sorry" drew a small audible breath out
of him.
"I'm really, really sorry," she said, and her hands felt sticky
with blood. "God, I just wanted to *save you*."
#
Mimi was back in bed when they got home. Alan took a shower and scrubbed
at his feet, then padded silently around the shuttered bedroom, dressing
in the dark. Mimi made a sleepful noise.
"I'm making dinner," he said. "Want some?"
"Can you bring it up here?" she said.
"Yeah, sure," he said.
"I just can't face --" She waved a hand at the door, then let it flop
back down to the bed.
"It's all right, babe," he said.
He and Brad ate dinner in silence in the kitchen, boiled hot dogs with
cheese and sliced baby tomatoes from the garden and lemonade from
scratch. Bradley ate seven. Mimi had three bites out of the one that he
brought up to her room, and when he went up to collect her plate, she
was asleep and had the covers wrapped snugly around her. He took a spare
sheet and a blanket out of the linen closet and brought it downstairs
and made up the living room sofa. In moments, he was sleeping.
This night, he was keenly aware of what had roused him from sleep. It
was a scream, at the back of the house. A scared, drunken scream that
was half a roar.
He was at the back door in a moment, still scrubbing at his eyes with
his fists, and Bennett was there already.
He opened the door and hit the switch that turned on the garden lights,
the back porch lights, the garage lights in the coach house. It was
bright enough to dazzle him, but he'd squinted in anticipation.
So it only took him a moment to take in the tableau. There was Link, on
the ground, splayed out and face down, wearing boxer shorts and nothing
else, his face in a vegetable bed in the next door yard. There was
Krishna, standing in the doorway, face grim, holding a hammer and
advancing on Link.
He shouted, something wordless and alarmed, and Link rolled over and
climbed up to his feet and lurched a few steps deeper into the
postage-stamp-sized yard, limping badly. Krishna advanced two steps into
the yard, hammer held casually at his waist.
Alan, barefoot, ran to the dividing fence and threw himself at it going
up it like a cat, landing hard and painfully, feeling something small
and important give in his ankle. Krishna nodded cordially at him, then
hefted the hammer again.
Krishna took another step toward Alan and then Natalie, moving so fast
that she was a blur, streaked out of the back door, leaping onto
Krishna's back. She held there for a minute and he rocked on his heels,
but then he swung the hammer back, the claws first.
It took her just above her left eye with a sound like an awl punching
through leather and her cry was terrible. She let go and fell over
backward, holding her face, screaming.
But it was enough time, enough distraction, and Alan had hold of
Krishna's wrist. Remembering a time a long time ago, he pulled Krishna's
hand to his face, heedless of the shining hammer, and bit down on the
base of his thumb as hard as he could, until Krishna loosed the hammer
with a shout. It grazed Alan's temple and then bounced off his
collarbone on the way to the ground, and he was momentarily stunned.
And here was Link, gasping with each step, left leg useless, but hauling
himself forward anyway, big brawny arms reaching for Krishna, pasting a
hard punch on his cheek and then taking hold of his throat and bearing
him down to the ground.
Alan looked around. Benny was still on his side of the fence. Mimi's
face poked out from around the door. The sound of another hard punch
made him look around as Link shook the ache out of his knuckles and made
to lay another on Krishna's face. He had a forearm across his throat,
and Krishna gasped for breath.
"Don't," Adam said. Link looked at him, lip stuck out in belligerence.
"Stop me," he said. "Try it. Fucker took a hammer to my *knee*."
Natalie went to him, her hand over her face. "Don't do it," she
said. She put a hand on his shoulder. "We'll call the cops."
Krishna made a choking sound. Link eased up on him a little, and he drew
a ragged breath. "Go ahead and call them," he rasped.