Kermit looked over at his writhing brother. It was a good thing David was restrained. His feet and arms seemed to go in all directions in order to free himself and kill the relative who had saved him from the streets. Once or twice, David came very close to knocking Kermit's head through the window. Only Kermit's expert, trained reflexes avoided serious injury as he pulled the Caddy up to his sister's apartment complex.

Waiting for the coast to clear, Kermit scanned the area around the apartment complex. He couldn't drag his brother into Marilyn's place in full view of witnesses. The garish Cadillac drew enough attention all on its own without the spectacle of hauling a filthy, belligerent runaway across the lawn under his arm. In the dim light of sunset, Kermit appraised the ball of anger sitting beside him.

David's fury radiated in super-nova intensity from the passenger side. After twenty minutes of futile struggling against the handcuffs and seat belt, the young man had faded back into the leather prison, body inert, but spirit screaming out rancid hatred from bloodshot eyes. The side of his face was flooding with blue where Kermit's fist had connected, an accessory that only accentuated the sallow checks.

"David, I'm sorry I hurt you but I had to get you out of there in a hurry. If you hadn't fought me, I-"

"Fuck you!"

"You couldn't stay there, Squirt. You need some help."

"Help yourself, asshole! I wish you were dead!"

Pulling back into himself a bit, Kermit whispered, "Join the club."

It was obvious that he wouldn't reach him that easily. Seeing a clear opening, the mercenary slid out of his side of the rental and moved quickly to his brother's side. Pulling open the heavy car door, Kermit reached over the tattered body to unsnap the seat belt. Wrapping his arms around the flesh-draped bones that should have been arms, he tried to pull the young man out of the car.

Peering out from beneath the heavy hood of bluish eyelids, David gradually let a grin spread over his thin mouth. It was a smile laden with poison. With no warning, he began to scream in megaphone intensity. "HELP!!! Somebody help me!!! This pervert's got me in handcuffs!!! HEL-"

The call for help was stifled by the clamp of his hand over David's mouth. "Shut up or I'll slug you again." Imprisoning the boy with his other hand, he began to drag the struggling skeleton toward the complex. Icy pain lanced through his body as David tore through the hand with his teeth. <Don't feel it! > Kermit aligned his control against the searing slice to the inside of his hand. The boy clamped down harder. <No pain.> The mercenary kept moving. He had felt worse. He kept them moving.

Half-dragging and half-carrying, Kermit Griffin battled his brother up the stairs and into his sister's apartment. Flinging his burden to the floor, he jammed his wounded hand into his pocket. The boy landed in a shabby bundle on the floor. Swimming in his clothes, David's body had little resemblance to the photograph Kermit had used to find him. Hands still pinned by the cuffs, David struggled to push himself upright against the wall. Kermit read broken glass raking across David's imagination as he stared down into the red-rimmed eyes.

"DAVID!!!" Marilyn shot from the bedroom and descended on the heap that remotely resembled her younger brother. "Oh my God! Kermit?! Why is he in handcuffs? What happened?" Fawning over the boy and capturing his battered face in her hands, Marilyn gasped in horror at his condition. Bones where there was once muscle. Pulling him close and ignoring the dirt and stench, Marilyn rocked him close to her. "It's okay, Davey. It's okay."

"He did it, Mare." David, now a prolific actor, wailed into his sister's shoulder. "Kermit hit me and put these things on me. He hates me...I'm scared, Mare...." David shed his phony tears and snuggled into the sympathy of his older sister.

"Take these things off of him, Kermit! What were you thinking? He's just a boy!" Marilyn shot daggers up from the floor as Kermit silently bent to release the cuffs.

"He wouldn't come willingly, Marilyn. I didn't have much of a choice." Kermit leaned back, catching the evil smile David shot up at him behind the back of his new protector.

"My God, Kermit," Marilyn ran a hand down the swollen face, "you had to HIT him?"

Kermit remained silent, nursing his wound in the privacy of his pocket.

"He was pissed, Marilyn," the boy implored with puppy-like expression. "You know how he gets. He was crazy! Just like before....I wouldn't do anything...to...to...."

"You'll be fine now, Davey. Don't worry." Marilyn remembered the rages that her older brother had become victim to since his nightmare in Vietnam. One of those rages had ripped him apart from them after his return, making it impossible for him to be with them or raise them.

Kermit's homecoming from the war had not been the healing reunion Marilyn had wanted. David and Marilyn had just been shuffled off to their aunt but they were hoping that Kermit would change things upon his return. He had changed things, all right.

He had been accompanied by his commanding officer, Paul Blaisdell. Neither sibling had understood why -- until IT happened....

~~~

She had been waiting for hours, watching from the window, only to burst through the door as if shot from a cannon and hurtle herself to the car as it coasted to a stop in the driveway. Kermit, upon seeing her, climbed out, wearing the biggest grin she had ever seen as he held out his arms for her.

A gangly, just-turned-16-year-old Marilyn Griffin bounced in excitement. Her big brother was home! "KERMIT!!!" she shrieked as she propelled herself into his arms.

Marilyn ignored Paul Blaisdell, who had also exited the vehicle, and dove past him to her brother. Later, she would think back on the alarmed expression on the older man's face and the outstretched hand she had avoided.

Kermit's body tensed and his arms shuddered ever so slightly as they made contact. He relaxed with an effort and slowly encircled his arms around her.

Finally registering that Kermit was less than responsive, Marilyn drew back. "Kermit-?" she asked, putting a hand toward his face. He drew back, intercepting her hand with his. She noted the glasses, something he swore that he would never wear in his life, but tactfully said nothing. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I forgot you were wounded - did I hurt you?"

"No," he said, just as softly. "No, you didn't. I'm...okay." Marilyn could hear the lie but she said nothing. "How are you?"

Marilyn studied him, wondering how much to tell him. Things were bad -- as bad as they'd ever been -- but now, they would be better. Kermit was home! "Let's go inside," she suggested.

Then, the explosion happened out of the blue; no warning whatsoever. Everything was in slow motion and yet, happened within seconds.

It was David. Seeing his beloved big brother. He leapt at him, fists flailing in front of him swiftly in friendly, boyish fashion, trying to greet Kermit. Paul lunged for Kermit at the same time. Grabbing his upraised fist, Paul spun Kermit around, propelling him away from David and putting his own body in between them.

Marilyn stepped back in shock. David stood there, confused and bewildered. Kermit , held firmly by his commanding officer, was two seconds away from being a limp dishrag.

Time snapped back to normal. David ran away, back behind the house. Kermit, one arm extended, called out, "David...," in a strangled voice, demonstrating an inner battle for some sort of control. Marilyn just stood there, looking at Paul, desperate for answers.

Paul let go of Kermit, who began to follow his distraught brother. Paul laid a restraining hand on his shoulder and he glanced back. "It's all right," he said. "Let me go to him." Paul let go. Kermit, on his way to find David, glanced back to Marilyn. "I'm sorry," he told her, "Paul will explain."

As Kermit raced to the back of the house, Marilyn turned to Paul. She was a little intimidated by him. Her father had introduced them only once when she was ten and Paul Blaisdell hadn't lost an ounce of his command presence. But she wanted to know what was going on. Pulling herself together, she asked, "He's not okay, is he?" Her arms encircled her body, holding herself, bracing for what was to come.

Paul took a deep breath. "He's getting there." "What happened to him? Why is he wearing glasses? Why did he try to hit David?"

Paul didn't censor the truth. "There's a lot that I have to tell you about Kermit," Paul began. "And the first thing is that you can't touch him too quickly and you can't surprise him. Marilyn...his nerves are raw. Completely. I'll let him tell you the details if and when he's ready, but Marilyn," Paul put a warm hand on her shoulder, "he was...hurt while he was a POW. Badly. He's been in the war for so long, he's forgotten how to live in peace. He's going to respond like that for a while until he gets used to the peace. Just follow a few instructions and he'll be fine."

"Okay, don't surprise him and don't touch him. What else?" She wanted to scream in anger at what they had done to her brother. But....that wouldn't help now. She needed to know what to do -- or not to do -- to help him.

"You can touch him if he sees you first. Anything he says, no matter how it sounds, accept it. He won't take off the glasses, so don't ask about that. If you hear something in the night, ignore it. He knows what to do. Don't EVER wake him up. If he starts to play music, let him play it and for as long as he wants. Watch his body. If he starts to tense, just grab David and stay out of his way. Can you remember all that?" Paul's matter-of-fact delivery made the frightening situation seem normal.

Marilyn bit her lip and nodded. "Will he be okay?"

Paul looked down. "I'm going to stick around to make sure for a little bit. I'll be right here if you need anything. Okay? Now, I'd better check on Kermit and David. Are you all right?"

"Tell me what I can do to help." Marilyn stood in front of him like a soldier, waiting for orders.

"You can go inside, close your eyes and listen to the sounds of the house," Paul told her. "If you hear any ticking, like a loud clock, go and stop it. Pull the plug on it or take the weights out. Anything to get rid of it. He can't take that sound. We'll be in in a minute."

Marilyn nodded and walked into the house, afraid to ask for more information, as Paul walked around to the backyard. After performing her tasks, she returned to the yard just in time to hear Kermit talking softly to David, saying pretty much the same things that Paul had told Marilyn about living in the war versus living in the peace. Only Kermit was adding how much he loved him and Marilyn and how the only thing that kept him going was thinking of them. Kermit then delved into some favorite childhood stories, obviously those that meant something special to the two of them. Marilyn watched; David and Kermit, although ten years apart, were mirror images of each other. They had a connection, a bond between them.

Kermit finally succeeded in communicating his love and, soon, was teasing David, tussling his hair that turned into a mock-wrestling match.

"Okay, okay, you two," Paul said, stepping out into the open as the 'fight' was about to spill over onto the freshly-cut lawn. "You guys can do this later. We're expected. Come on."

Marilyn didn't resist as Paul wrapped her in a supportive hug and walked inside the house with the other two following.

~~~

<She's buyin' it.> Kermit could see the master manipulator that heroin had given birth to inside the remains of his baby brother. He said nothing to refute the lie. The truth would reveal itself in time.

Rubbing the bruised wrists, Marilyn tried to take charge of her fragile younger brother. "Davey, why don't you go take a shower while I make you something to eat, okay?"

"Wait. Let me check it out first." Kermit's voice was flat with command. He strolled back to the tiny bathroom and ran a quick recon. Grabbing a towel, Kermit dumped every prescription, every aspirin, and every razor inside and headed back to the living room. Before passing through the door, he snatched the belt from Rob's bathrobe and added it to the collection. Dumping his bundle onto the coffee table, the heavy in this drama gave his approval.

"Go ahead. There's no window so he should be all right. Just leave the door open." Kermit sank down onto the sofa.

"You see, Mare," the boy wailed loudly as he was helped to his feet. "He talks like I'm not even here! He hates me because he had to come here and get me!"
The broken glass began to eat away at his gut once again. <Say anything. Do anything. > He had to get her on his side. <Divide and conquer. > He remembered that phrase from somewhere. School or a book or somewhere. It would work. It had to work. "I'm sorry. I won't make a mess in there. I just need a little while, Mare. There's just no safe place to clean up out there. Can I have some privacy, please?" Kermit rolled his eyes at the histrionics.

"Of course you can!" Marilyn walked him slowly to the bathroom as Rob burst in through the front door.

"Man! Did you see that car?! Wonder who the pimp-mobile belongs to? Sweet Jesus...." Rob's voice trailed off as he caught sight of what remained of his wife's younger brother. Only a fraction of resemblance remained. Marilyn had her arms wrapped tightly around the slumped shoulders of the boy as if he could melt away before her.

One tearful glance from Marilyn silenced any questions and Rob let them disappear into the back of the apartment. Only then did he notice the dark silhouette on his sofa.

Examining his bloody hand, Kermit steeled himself against the storm. The fantasy of a victim grateful for rescue had evaporated. David hated him; hated him with an inferno born of abandonment and distrust that had steered him into a lifetime of drugs and despair.

"Damn, Kermit!" Rob yelped at the sight of the blood-soaked hand as the mercenary took it out to apply pressure to the wound. Without needing to be asked, the younger man went straight to the kitchen for the first aid kit. "What happened, man?"

Uncharacteristically, Kermit let someone help him. He didn't flinch at the close proximity as his brother-in-law sat down beside him, fishing around in the open kit for the necessary medical tools. "David bit me."

Before pouring on the antiseptic, Rob cast a silent inquiry at the man he knew to be occasionally dangerous when provoked.

Smiling slightly at the hint of fear reflecting back at him, Kermit said, "Do it."

Bubbling sterile pain shot through the skin that fluttered open at the edges of the teeth marks. Kermit grit his teeth to make a barrier against the gasp forming in his throat. "I don't think it needs stitches," Rob commented helpfully, dressing the hand in clean, white gauze.

"Thought you were Pre-law." Kermit cautiously bent his fingers to be certain they were flexible inside the bandage, knowing he would need two good hands to handle David. He hauled himself off the couch.

"Pre-law, Pre-med," Rob replied, grinning, as he snapped the lid on his kit closed, "it's all the same."

"Now I know why lawyers are always out for blood," Kermit quipped, nodding a thank you. "I'm going to make a phone call. You watch that door, okay? You don't let him leave that room unless I'm here to help. Got that?"

Rob blinked. Kermit's words were mild, even easy-going, but the tone was that of an order -- a serious order, meaning life or death. Rob swallowed, and nodded quickly. "Phone's in the bedroom," he added helpfully, even though Kermit was already heading that way of his own volition, unasked, uninvited.

Kermit acknowledged Rob's invitation with the briefest of nods, going into the bedroom and shutting the door behind him. Rubbing his hands together, he crossed the room to the phone, heart in his throat. He owed Paul so much already...he wasn't looking forward to dumping his pride in the trash once more. But that image in his mind - the image that had been in his mind for the last three hours - made him reach for the phone without hesitation. He dialed the number he knew by heart.

("Hello?")

<He's there. Thank God.> Kermit unglued his tongue from his dry mouth. The shock, terror, and desperation were beginning to catch up to him. His carefully constructed defenses were beginning to break down. At the sound of this man's voice, the man he nearly thought of as....Kermit shook his head. <Get it in gear, Griffin.>

("Yes?")

Kermit could hear the tone switch from casual politeness to mercenary tone. The man knew very well that this was a 'business' call, not someone selling carpet cleaning fluid. "I need help." He kept his voice matter-of-fact but he knew the other man wouldn't be fooled by that. He wasn't fooled by anything Kermit had ever tried.

("What do you need?")

"Not that kind of help," Kermit quickly assured him. "I need a doctor, someone who deals with heroin withdrawal. It's...David." He knew the drug from the marks he'd seen piercing David's arms.

The line fell silent and Kermit could sense the sympathy that carried over the phone lines. After all, Paul Blaisdell was a family man himself.

("Are you home?")

"Yes." Kermit understood that the man needed to know where Kermit was to recommend someone in the area. "But that's not all. I need space. Somewhere to battle this out with him...alone."

("Use my cabin. You know where the key is.")

Kermit was speechless with gratitude. "I...."

("Use it. Don't worry about what might happen. Worst things have hit it. There's a ranger's station about three miles north of it. That's where your doctor will meet you.")

"Thanks," Kermit whispered. He felt stunned with the overwhelming gratitude for this man. <He saves my life and now David's.>

He heard the click as the line disconnected. Kermit knew not to take it personally. He knew his friend was calling the doctor and paving the way for him to use the cabin. This was the first thing that had gone right all evening, aside from him actually finding David. Now all that was left was to pick up the pieces.

~~~

Marilyn burst in, without knocking. True, it was her home but she had been warned long ago never to surprise Kermit. He quickly pulled his defenses and mask back into place as a very angry Marilyn confronted him.

"WHAT IN THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, KERMIT??!!!"

Kermit absorbed Marilyn's rage; rage obviously fueled by months of worry and the picture just painted by their younger brother. "He's hysterical back there! Shaking like a leaf! You're supposed to HELP him! Not kick him while he's down!"

Calmly accepting her admonitions, Kermit focused dark eyes onto his sister's burning fury. "He's not shaking out of fear, Marilyn. He needs another hit. He's trying to trick you into keeping him away from me."

"Maybe I should, Kermit." Marilyn dug into the chest of drawers where Rob kept his sweats, trying to find something for David to wear. "He ran and used the drugs because he was UNHAPPY! Punching him and chaining him like some animal is supposed to make him feel loved? Maybe you've just forgotten what giving love feels like, Kermit!"

"Marilyn, give him a break. Look what David did to his hand." Rob, implored from the doorway.

"You shut up!" she attacked, refusing to be out-numbered. "Wouldn't you fight back if someone tried to assault you?! David's not a criminal! He's a-"

"Not so fast, Marilyn." Kermit had no heart to rage back at his sister. The fall would come soon enough. Calmly, with compassion, he took her hands in his own. "I just dragged him out from a raid. A raid by cops, Marilyn. Two older men ran into the flop he and this other kid were using. They were being chased by the cops and bullets were flying everywhere."

"David and this boy," she asked, shakily, "were they with them?"

"I don't know...I don't think so but I can't be sure." He had to make her understand. "There's more. I saw them and their stash. They're into robbery. They had stuff that they couldn't have gotten any other way. Besides, his friend tried it on me. They weren't armed, though. More than likely, they're just into the snatch-and-run kind of theft. But this raid...they would've gotten picked up just for being there. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time." His protective nature wouldn't let him tell her about the prostitution. He couldn't be sure if David had been part of that or not. Didn't want to be sure. Even he couldn't face the thought that his bright baby brother had been willingly abused for a fistful of cash to shove into his arm.

Shaking, Marilyn looked away from the truth in Kermit's eyes. "Well, that's over now. When he comes out, we'll just get him to a hospital and´get him some help."

"No, Marilyn." He pulled her face back to meet his own. "That's the last thing we can do. If he has gotten into something heavy, there could be a warrant out for him. If he shows up in a hospital or a rehab, Aunt Helen will have him trashed in some juvie hell to rot! No help for him. No chance. Is that what you want?"

This was too much information to handle at once. David was here. She had to focus on that. "Maybe he's not as deep into it as you think, Kermit. Let's just keep him here for a few nights and once he's gotten away from the drugs, he'll be all right." Tears began to drain down her cheeks at her own failure. "I'll do a better job with him this time. We'll move off campus. I'll quit school and take care of him and go back to school later. I won't let him down again!" Rob moved in behind his young wife and held her in silent support.

"You're not doing anything of the kind." He didn't want to hurt her. She'd been hurt enough. All she wanted was a normal life for people who would never have it. "I wish it was going to be that easy, little girl." Kermit reverted to the gentle brother he had always tried to be with her. "This is my kind of fight. I'm taking him away. Somewhere the two of us can ride this out. I have some back-up who's going to give me the medical information I need. When he's dressed, we're leaving."

Marilyn was shaking her head. Kermit could read her defeated conclusions. Kermit took her shoulders in his hands. "And you are NOT a failure!"

"What do you call it, then? Certainly not succeeding!"

Kermit closed his eyes. He knew the argument. He felt it himself. Trouble was, he didn't know any defense against it or he would have used it to comfort himself. But he couldn't walk out of here with Marilyn thinking she was a failure. At a loss for words, he finally just hugged her. Smoothing her hair, he whispered, "He'll be okay. I promise. My friend will help and it'll be fine. You saved his life, Marilyn! You called me so that I could find him. Now, it'll be okay. It'll just take some time. You have to trust me. Okay?"

Marilyn hugged back before withdrawing, looking through the dark, green glasses. "I just have to know one thing." Kermit waited silently. "Were you in a rage when you caught David?"

"No. I swear," Kermit said.

Marilyn heard the pleading in his voice. He was asking her understanding, her forgiveness, and her trust. Ultimately, he was asking for her love. She sniffed back a tear and finally gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Call me when you can," she asked, giving him her unspoken belief in his sincerity.

"I will." Emotional shields snapping back in place, Kermit turned his attention toward the bathroom. David had been in there forever. The sound of running water was still hissing from under the door as Kermit knocked firmly. "David! Come out and get something to eat so we can get ready to leave."

No answer.

Alarms sounded as the mercenary twisted the knob and found it locked. "David! Open this door!" Even as he shouted the command, his shoulder plowed into the flimsy hollow door. Cursing himself and his ignorance, Kermit splintered the wood and tore the door from its hinges in his panic. Flinging the remnants in his wake, the man was stopped stone cold still at the picture of heartbreak that met him. Speechless in his pain, he could only stare at the desolation that had stolen his brother's soul.

David, still soaked from the shower and wrapped in a towel, lay folded in the tiny space between the toilet and the sink, a body of angles nowhere rounded by healthy muscle; ghostly white flesh stretched over his ribs and cheekbones. The blue bruise from his earlier battle matched the deep circles that obscured his dark brown eyes.

Amid the needle tracts that printed a story of lost innocence up the boy's arms dangled a needle, plunged empty of one last hit stored for a rainy day. Too weak to tug it off, David had left the worn rubber tubing loosely wrapped around his arm. Long damp strings of hair veiled his eyes as the young addict stared blankly into space, smiling absently at a power only he could sense as the gold rolled through his veins.

"David...," the older brother moaned. Sinking to his knees, physically and emotionally, Kermit plucked the needle from his brother's arm. Tears flowed without notice from under his mask of green shades as he realized his error of omission. It never crossed his mind to search the boy. Now, it was done. Plain for all to see. The drug was his god and it had to be banished.

Rising through his heartbreak, Kermit Griffin turned away from the faint smell of smoke and moisture to face another broken soul.

Marilyn stood in shock, seeing the truth splayed out on her bathroom floor, feeling the impotence. "Kermit?"

Pulling her close and turning his back on David's pitiful state, he whispered, "Get him dressed. He should be pretty easy to handle...now...." Choking down his own bile, he excused himself. "I'm going to pick up a few things and I'll take him away when I get back."

Needle still grasped in his hand, he walked woodenly out the door and to the bright red Cadillac, stopping only to stomp the syringe into fragments along the way.

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