by Aiden Bates
"I know. I do. I just don't know how to do that." He made a face, just before someone knocked on the door.
Derek froze, for just a second. Carmela fled. Derek couldn't blame her. No one had called about coming over, and any of Derek's friends would have called even before he'd been shot. He couldn't imagine how people involved with the trafficking ring would have gotten into the building, but these were major criminals. They could do things he couldn't, and they could probably get away with it too.
Amadi crossed over to the door and carefully looked through the peephole. "It's some old white people," he said, looking back into the room. "They brought food."
Derek did a double take. "I never thought my doom would come in the form of neighborly casseroles."
Amadi gave the most impressive of his dramatic eyeballs and half opened the door. "Hi," he said, with a big, fake, cheesy smile. "How can I help you?"
"I'm sorry. I thought this was Derek Brown's home?" The woman's voice had a slight accent. Derek thought she might have come from Eastern Europe somewhere.
"Oh, it is. He's my brother." Amadi didn't open the door any further, and he kept himself in between the strangers and the rest of the house.
"Ah." The man's voice was a little reedy, showing his age. "We're Simon and Natasha Brennan. We're your neighbor's parents. We, ah, we brought you some food. We didn't think, from the news reports, that you'd be up to cooking just yet."
Amadi glanced back at Derek. All of Derek's instincts told him to chase the strangers away, but he'd been raised better than that. He had some manners. He nodded to Amadi and tugged at his collar. "Thank you for coming," he said, with a little smile. "So you're Dr. Brennan's parents?"
The Brennans edged into the room. The man, Simon, stood a little shorter than Derek would have expected given Dr. Brennan's size. He looked a little bit like a fisherman, like he could have graced the cover of Old Man and the Sea. His dark blue eyes flitted around the place, and Derek didn't get the impression they missed much.
Natasha stepped a little further into the room than her husband did. She was a strikingly beautiful woman who hadn't lost a thing to age, with white hair that darkened to brown at the end of her curls. She moved with elegance and grace. Dr. Brennan got his looks from his mother, there was no doubting it.
Natasha held up her casserole dish. "Where can I put this?"
Amadi stepped into action. "I'll take that for you. Thanks."
"Thank you for bringing that by." Derek smiled again at the couple. "Did Dr. Brennan send you?"
Simon coughed and looked away. Natasha took the seat Derek gestured to and shook her head, just a little. "We tried to convince him to join us, but he wouldn't." She shrugged, letting her body speak where words were insufficient. "I suppose he was tired from the hospital."
"I know the ER is a busy place." Derek tugged on his collar. "Can I offer you anything? Water, or juice?"
"I could do with a beer." Simon cleared his throat.
Amadi reappeared from Derek's small kitchen. "Derek doesn't keep beer in the house. I'll be happy to bring you some ginger ale, though."
"That's probably for the best," Natasha said, while Simon frowned. "What with that poor child in the house and all."
Derek let her go on thinking Carmela was the reason. "Do you live around here?" he tried.
"No." Simon leaned forward. "We live in Dewitt. We have ever since we got married. Our kids all went to Jamesville-Dewitt schools. It was good for them, I think."
Derek nodded. He hadn't thought much about schools around here. He figured he might have kids someday, but that was a long way off. He knew the J-D schools were supposedly good, and if they'd turned out doctors he guessed the reputation was correct. "I suppose so."
"Have you given any thought as to where you're going to put the girl?" Natasha asked after a second.
"For school?" Derek gritted his teeth and forced himself to remember that English was clearly not this woman's first language. "We'll see where she is when that becomes an issue. Right now, she's not up to leaving the condo yet. She'll get there," he added, when he saw the face on both parents. "She's an incredibly brave and strong young woman. I think everything she's been through is hitting her all at the same time. I don't know how long it will take, or if she'll ever reunite with her birth family. It's too early to say yet."
Simon recoiled. "Why wouldn't she reunite with her family?"
Derek set his jaw. "Look. I'm not the child advocate. I'm just the emergency foster provider, because she felt safest with me." He saw some lines of pain around their eyes, and he didn't understand them but he could try to help. "I grew up in foster care, me and Amadi together. I knew a few kids who'd been trafficked. Carmela hasn't opened up about how she found herself in that particular situation, but the other kids who wound up in care with me sometimes did. I can tell you that sometimes they wind up there because they're running from something awful and they wind up turning to someone for help.
"Sometimes they get put into a situation by a family member." They gasped, and he wondered if there was a story there. "And sometimes they get lured there, by promises of a job or a modeling contract or something. A lot of them were told, though, that their parents knew where they were. Their parents wouldn't want them again, now that they'd been 'tainted' or become 'impure' or whatever. It's a tool the traffickers use to keep the kids in line." He rubbed at the back of his neck. It was a difficult topic with anyone, but especially with people he didn't know.
"But surely if they had a good relationship with their families beforehand," Natasha began. Her dark eyes shone in the dim light from Derek's lamps.
"It depends on how long the bad guys had them, and how deep they got their claws in." He reached out and took Natasha's hand. She stiffened, but didn't take it away. "It's hard to resist the kind of messages they have to give, and not everyone can push back like that. After a while, they wear you down. They've got their ways. It's not something I've had to go through, but I've heard the stories from the ones that have and I don't mind telling you—it's not something I'd expect of most kids. I'm not saying anything about you, or anyone you know. Okay? I wouldn't be that presumptuous.
"But if you did know someone, who went through that, it's not your fault if they came back changed or didn't want to come back at all. You can tell the one who survived that it wasn't true, and they might believe it on a surface level. That brainwashing runs deep, and it can be very hard to shake."
Amadi stepped in. "We had one kid in foster care with us, his family was awesome. We were all so jealous. But those bastards, they had their claws in him. He knew, in his head, that his family hadn't given him up. He still had nightmares every time he had to visit them, and for a week after. He spent the rest of his childhood in foster care."
"My God." Simon shook his head. "That's horrifying."
"That's why the court was so willing to let Carmela stay with me." Derek sat back. "If she was comfortable with me, they figured it was a step in the right direction. They'll get to the bottom of what actually happened, and with any luck Carmela will get her happy ending. But it's going to take a little time."
Amadi passed Natasha a box of tissues, just in time for her to burst into tears.
Derek could almost have predicted the next knock on the door. This one was furious, aggressive, and Derek saw Bill's face flash before his eyes.
He knew, though, that Bill hadn't come for him yet. For one thing, Bill was still in prison. For another, he had another foe right next door.
"That'd be the good doctor," he said with a grin so tight his face hurt. "Amadi, would you be so kind?"
Amadi snorted and opened the door. It wasn't soon enough. Dr. Brennan pushed the door open as soon as Amadi had it open a crack and shoved his way into the room. "You made my mother cry!" he yelled.
Derek leaped to his feet. "Oh my Lord, you have got to be kidding me. Do you sit there with a glass up against the wall?"
Simon stood up and slid between
his son and Derek. "Alex, Derek was just giving us some important information. It was a little hard to hear, sure, but we needed to know it. It gave us a better picture of what happened to Ayla."
Alex recoiled. "You spoke to him about that? That's family business." He pointed at Derek. "He is a dirtbag. He is not family."
"He's not like us, son." Simon held out his hands like he might with a wounded animal. "But he knows things we don't."
"He doesn't need to be involved with us!" Alex glowered at Derek. "And get away from my mother!"
Derek scoffed. "I'm not 'involved with you,' you prick. Your parents had questions. I answered them. That's the extent of my great big involvement. If your parents want you to micromanage their lives, that's between the three of you but leave me out of it. And so help me God, if you even think about shoving your way into my condo again without being invited I will press charges."
Alex drew himself up short. "Excuse me?"
Natasha rose from the couch, eyes red. "Derek, I apologize for the atrocious behavior of my son. I can assure you, he didn't learn such terrible behavior at home." She turned to Alex and unleashed a stream of some other language at him, something Slavic-sounding that made Alex flinch. "Thank you for your time and your candor, Derek."
She grabbed Alex by the shirt and dragged him out of the condo. Simon followed, abashed.
Derek looked at Amadi, who shrugged. "Don't look at me, man. I got nothing."
Derek could guess at what was behind the odd visit, but Alex’s motivations were beyond him.
***
Alex listened to his mother, even though she spoke for a very long time. The next day, when he was at work, he called a therapist. He knew he wasn't dealing well. While he thought he just wasn't dealing well with the current situation, and with Carmela's case, he had to admit that maybe his mother was right. Maybe there were some things he hadn't been dealing with for a long time.
He sat down with the therapist, Dr. Radic, and they spoke for a long while about Carmela. They spoke about Ayla, too, and about the things that had happened in between then and now. Alex hadn't ever thought of himself as particularly controlling, or obsessive, but when he heard himself speak about things out loud he had to admit some of those tendencies existed.
And maybe, just maybe, they weren't exactly pretty traits.
He wasn't exactly thrilled to find out he'd have to come back, not only once but several times. Well, few physical ailments were solved with one treatment. A mental issue wouldn't be any different.
He looked at Dr. Radic. "I do feel like I need to apologize to my neighbor," he said, just before he left. "I think I've been kind of an ass, and I should probably go do something about it, you know?"
"Absolutely." She winked at him. "You know, that's a great step in the right direction. Just be prepared—he might not be all that open to hearing from you."
Alex figured he could accept that, although he wasn't entirely sure why Derek wouldn't want to hear from him. He was apologizing, for crying out loud. He knew he'd been an ass, but Derek hadn't exactly been the best neighbor either. And he'd made Alex’s mother cry. Still, Alex had been the worst. He decided to try to sweeten the pot with a box of cupcakes from his favorite bakery, up near the university, before heading home.
He steadied his nerves before heading next door with his offering of cupcakes. A few nights ago, he'd hammered on this door so hard he'd probably woken the whole floor. So much for being the considerate neighbor. This time, he knocked with restraint, like the good guy in the equation should. Hopefully, someone would answer the door.
It took a while, but the brother answered the door. "You got some big shiny brass ones," Amadi told him, face contorted into a scowl.
Alex held the box of cupcakes out in front of him. "I've come to apologize. And I've brought a peace offering."
Derek appeared behind Amadi. He was taller than his foster-brother, but slimmer. When he'd been on the operating table, Alex hadn't had the chance to appreciate him. Now he could. Even with one arm strapped down, Derek Brown was a beautiful man. His face, though, could have been placed beside "disapproval" in the dictionary.
"Look, man. I don't know what beef you've got with me, but we have a traumatized girl staying here. She calls you The Shouting Man. She's not in a place right now where The Shouting Man is a good thing, okay?"
Alex grimaced. "I don't want to be the shouting man." He swallowed, hard. "Believe it or not, I'm legitimately concerned for her welfare. I've had a lousy way of showing it, but I am concerned for her. Could I maybe come in and apologize?"
Derek heaved a mighty sigh. "Fine," he said after a second. "But any shouting and you're out on your ass. It's my job to keep her safe, not to subject her to more crap." He spun on his heel and walked back into the condo.
Alex followed. It wasn't the most enthusiastic invitation he'd ever received, but it was an invitation. It counted, and he was going to take it.
"So." Alex looked around the apartment. Whatever else Derek might be, he wasn't an interior decorator. There was no theme, no pattern to the furniture or the things on the wall. Everything was strictly utilitarian, and there was no more of anything than there needed to be. "I don't think I've ever been in here." He struggled for something to say about the small space. "It's very clean."
Derek snorted, but the corners of his mouth twitched. "Well, you know. Even dirtbag omegas can do a few things right."
Amadi snickered. "I'm going to go do a load of laundry."
Derek pulled a face. "I can wash clothes, man."
"No, you can't. Take the help, Derek." Amadi ruffled Derek's hair on his way past.
Alex watched him go. "He's very fond of you."
"Lucky for me." Derek sat down on the couch. "I'd been through four foster homes in a year by the time we landed together. He helped me more than I can even say. I'd be an unholy mess if it weren't for him." He looked off down the short hallway with a fond smile on his face. "I like to think we probably helped each other, but hey. It's not like you can keep a balance sheet with that kind of thing."
"So foster care wasn't that bad for you." Alex couldn't stop his heel from tapping, even as he sat down. The layout of the condo was the same as his own, but everything was so different. It was setting his teeth on edge, and then Derek had to go and be so attractive too.
"There were things about some of the homes that I could have lived without. Amadi still had contact with his bio family. They helped, too." He rolled his neck. "Is this an interview about foster care? Are you interested in taking on a new set of responsibilities? I'm not sure it would be a great idea, given the whole on-call thing, but maybe they could make it work if your parents helped out. Your mom seems nice enough."
Alex frowned. "My mom's the best." He counted to five. Derek Brown didn't have designs on his mom, for crying out loud. He was one of the most "out" public personalities in Syracuse. "Sorry. I've gotten to be kind of defensive about my family over the past few years. It's a thing. I'm working on it. Literally." He took a deep breath. "I'm very sorry about the way I behaved the last time we spoke. There were some things I hadn't dealt with, and this whole… thing… brought them up again. I found a therapist and I'm trying to work through them."
Derek pursed his lips and nodded. "Good for you. I don't know you all that well, but I'm a big proponent of therapy, personally. It helped me, and I think it's probably going to be helpful to you. Your parents didn't share a lot of information, and I didn't pry, but I can guess. That sounds like it's a lot to deal with."
Alex looked away. "Other people have it worse." He turned back to Derek. "How's your arm, by the way?"
Derek grimaced. "Useless." Then he laughed. Who laughed after a statement like that? "I mean it's healing, I'm sure. The wound itself itches like a son of a bitch, which means it's healing, but I'm not used to being more or less idle. I'm just trying to hang on, you know?"
"Do you want me to take a look at it for you? I'm not your doctor, but I'm cert
ainly qualified to take a look at your incision and see how it's healing up." Alex bit his lip. He shouldn't have offered. He didn't want to put his hands on Derek's flesh. He didn't know what he'd do, if he had an opportunity like that.
Derek shook his head. "Thanks, but I'm all set. Dr. Wade is fantastic, and I'm sure everything's healing the way it's supposed to. I'm a little bit worried about Carmela, though. She says that her feet burn worse when she puts that ointment on."
"Huh. Do you think she'd be willing to let me take a look at them?" Alex leaned forward, just a little.
Derek hesitated. He bit his lip, and then he glanced toward the hallway. "I'll ask her," he said finally. "Please don't take it personally if she won't come out. She's still a little iffy around strangers, men in particular." He headed down the hall.
Amadi returned from the kitchen. His eyes were hard as he looked Alex over. "What are you thinking?"
