The waves were slowing. David was sleeping more and the agonizing pain was less. Around the clock, Kermit stood by him.

Days bled into nights. Time went by and they both began to grow stronger.

Sitting calmly and comfortably on the couch with his brother was a new experience. As long as Kermit remembered, David had been the personification of childlike energy. But here he was, munching on popcorn, sitting still and watching the TV movie of the week. DIRTY HARRY. Kermit had snorted at the choice but it was better than nothing.

Come to think of it, the Griffins were an intensely emotional lot, Kermit reflected. They just had different ways of expressing it. David would typically bounce off the walls. Kermit would hold all the rampaging emotions inside where they would erupt once in a while. Marilyn was the heart and soul, sharing her emotions with tender, loving care. Now, Kermit was trying to keep David calm.

"Kermit?"

"Yeah?" Kermit didn't want to play any more guilt trips. He just wanted this over. Thank God David was staying more sane with each wave of the withdrawal. Every time, there was a much longer period that David was lucid. Kermit only hoped that there would be something left of him after the week was over.

"What's it like to kill people?"

Kermit threw a glance at his brother. That question had come out of left field and it surprised him. Clearly, David was after something. Maybe to befriend the enemy? Kermit gave a mental shrug. <Why not? >The kid wasn't getting out no matter how many buttons he pushed. He wouldn't get anything from it - except maybe some insight. 'What's it like?' Are you asking me if I like to kill people? Think I hose down McDonald's with a submachine gun?"

"I think you're too subtle for that last one."

Kermit snickered. "You're right." He sighed, trying to put his jumbled thoughts in order. "When I kill, there's a purpose. I don't like it and I don't go out of my way to do it. I just do what has to be done." Seeing David's look, he attempted to clarify. "It's like being in a war. You have an enemy. You try to accomplish your objective and, if they get in your face or your life is threatened, you kill them." Kermit frowned; he didn't like his choice of words. He only hoped that David wouldn't notice.

"You kill for self-defense?" The boy was openly curious now.

"Most of the time." Not exactly a lie.

"But your life wouldn't be in danger in the first place if you hadn't put yourself there," David said, probing further.

"Yes." Kermit really didn't like the way this was going.

"So you go into a 'mission', deliberately put yourself in danger, knowing others will try to stop you, and you kill them. But you set it up in the first place!" David was pleased to see that his slippery logic was beginning to make the other squirm. Not physically - he knew Kermit's demeanor wouldn't be ruffled by an exploding bomb. But there was something that showed...

"By that logic, you seem to think I set it up just to kill them," Kermit told him. "That's not true. If all I wanted to do was kill, I would go to that McDonald's with that submachine gun." More skilled at the game of logic than the boy, he employed another analogy. "What about cops, David? They put themselves in situations where they have to kill. The option to be there or not doesn't really apply, does it?" A slight understanding began to dawn in his brother's eyes. Slight but there. "A lot of times, I don't have to kill. Just break into an installation, get the information and get out again. If I'm good enough, I avoid people and thus avoid killing." He reached out to the kid but David drew back, so he let his hand drop back onto the couch. "I didn't choose this life, David. It chose me."

"You didn't have a choice?" David was smirking now. "Talk about double standards! All this time, you've been telling me I have a choice with the drugs, my monster, my rages! To give it up or to live with it and living with it would kill me, so you say I should give it up. But what about you??? You've chosen your monster so what's wrong with mine?! At least mine doesn't hurt anybody else but me!"

Kermit's heart sank. How could he explain? "That's wrong, David. Your addiction will eventually kill you. It does hurt others. The family that loves you. The people you steal from to get more smack."

"Your life hurts the people who--" David stopped the word before it came out.

"I don't have a choice about the rages, David. I've become more of the master but sometimes it happens whether I want it to or not. I wish I could give it up. I'd give anything to get out of it. But David, you tell me my options. What would you have me do? I've found a way to do something good with what's left of me." Turning his body toward David, willing him to understand, Kermit clarified his purpose. "There have to be people willing to do what I do so that innocent people can stay that way. I choose who I work for and what missions I'll accept."

"For money?"

"Yes. For money."

"So that's how you decide? The highest bidder gets your services, big brother? That sounds like another profession I know." David leaned back, satisfied look on his face.

"No, David. I decide by what my guts and research tell me. By what's worth dying for." He wasn't sure who the explanation was for -- David or himself. "I've been wrong before but not often. So, to answer your question, I'm not some armed version of a hooker. I'm trying to do something good with this 'thing' inside of me. Violence exists. I can't change that, but I can use it against the bad guys. Can you understand that?"

Maybe he was worn down by the constant barrage of pain and words. Maybe he saw a glimmer of the hero he'd known as a boy. <"Nobody hurts my brother!"> The gratification David expected to feel as the discomfort and shame played through his older brother's eyes never materialized.

"I don't claim to be a saint, David. I don't ask for anyone's pity or understanding. But I have to live with myself. That's what a man has to do, David. Face what he is and make something out of it. Take responsibility for it and keep going." He'd reached his own end of the wave. Taking the empty popcorn bowl, Kermit escaped to the kitchen.

After he reached the kitchen, his hearing picked up the pulse of dialing. First instinct was to pick up the other extension but something softer of heart told him to hold back. Focusing on the sounds, he strained to hear.

"Marilyn...it's me." David's voice was trembling. "I'm gettin' better. I think. Yeah, it's hard but...uh...I just wanted to tell you something." Voice breaking, the boy tried to take on some of the responsibility. "I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry. REALLY sorry, not like before. I hurt you and you didn't deserve it."

Listening intently, Kermit looked around the corner to see a small tear run down David's gaunt face.

"I love you, too, and I'm gonna try. Uh...no...I don't think you should come here, wherever here is." David huffed a tiny laugh. "I got some stuff to work on. Okay...oh, and tell Rob I'm sorry, too. Bye."

Disconnecting, David let out a pent-up breath. Some little piece of the beaten remnants of his soul won a victory, a small one. Turning around, he came face to face with another pair of dark eyes that matched his own. He had taken off the green shades and Kermit's smile wasn't the sarcastic grin he usually wore, but one full of warmth and kindness. For a moment, he enjoyed the approval.

But David Griffin wasn't ready for approval.

"What?!" He snapped. "It's one phone call not some holy communion!" Softening his defenses, David walked toward the bedroom. "I did mean it, though."

As David disappeared under the covers of his bed, Kermit felt a spark of hope. He knew that firewall. He used it daily. He also knew what that phone call was -- an admission, one first step.

"I know you did, Squirt." Suddenly, the days to come didn't seem quite as foreboding. There was a light at the end of the tunnel for all of them.

~~~

The week was finally winding down. They hadn't fought a spasm in fourteen hours and counting. There were minor stomach cramps, of course, but nothing to compare with what he had lived through.

David wandered around the cabin aimlessly. Kermit had taken him at his word that he would not try to escape. Now, that was a tough call. He could escape. The doors and locks were impenetrable but the windows weren't. There were plenty of things here that would make a very large hole in any one of the windows he chose.

<So, what's stopping me?>

Maybe because he had promised Kermit and, for once, his word would mean something. Maybe because he wanted Kermit to see that he could do it. Maybe it was simply because he didn't know where the hell he was. He would starve to death before even reaching the next city to start over.

David kicked at the sofa in frustration before plopping into it, spreading out lengthwise, and looking at the ceiling. He couldn't help himself. All the voices he had heard were echoing in his head, burning him far worse than the smack, making themselves heard over and over.

<"I'm here with you. Ride it out.">

<"You're safe with me">.

<"She forgives you and loves you. She's here with us trying to help.">

<"You got lost but we're finding you, Davey.">

<"You don't really want to die, anyway.">

<"Kid, I'm not going anywhere.">

<"You have it all wrong, kid. He didn't want to leave you.">

Whatever the past, whatever Kermit was, it was obvious that Kermit was more than David had thought, more than he knew. The Vietcong didn't mean much to him but hearing the story of Kermit's recovery from Paul Blaisdell had opened his eyes a little. Kermit couldn't even bear daylight?? He was forced to wear the sunglasses to protect himself rather than just adopting a character quirk. The beatings, the starvation....David tried to imagine it. He didn't have to imagine very hard. He had been on the receiving end of those same things. But there was a difference. David had his freedom. He could run and hide to escape it, if only for a little while. Kermit hadn't had that luxury. He imagined the torture of those six weeks and found himself shuddering. Maybe they had something in common after all.

Maybe he could even give the guy a break...listen to him. Now that his mind was clearing, he could remember things. Things that made him blush to remember. Like toddling after a gangly teenager who gladly played with him anytime he wanted.

<"Love you, Kermit.">

<"Love you, Davey.">

His reverie was broken by the jumbling of the door lock. David sauntered over, trying to look casual, as the door opened with a crash. Kermit, his arms overloaded, struggled in, leaving the keys in the lock.

"Enjoy your shopping trip?" David queried sarcastically, amused at the sight as Kermit dumped the boxes on the floor.

"Funny kid," Kermit retorted. "You going to stand there catching flies? Get that big one out on the porch, will you?"

It was an obvious ploy at offering trust. David walked forward to see a tall, rectangular case leaning against the doorjamb just outside the door. Taking the handle, he hoisted it carefully, somehow realizing that whatever was inside was fragile and...special.

He pulled the door shut after him. "So what was so important that you had to go out into the world?"

"You, as usual, kid." Kermit lifted the boxes again, being none too gentle about opening them and spilling out the contents. Jeans, shirts, socks and underwear covered the small couch. "Hope they fit." Taking out another bag, he unwrapped a large, military-issue bag, presumably to hold it all. "You've actually managed to gain a little weight." Pulling out a leather bomber jacket, exactly like the one he had sent months ago, Kermit pulled it up over his brother's shoulders. "Looks great on you, kid. Take a look."

Following Kermit's inclined thumb, David turned to the hallway mirror and perused himself. Frankly, he'd seen better complexions in horror movies - on the zombies - but if Kermit said he looked better, then he looked better. Feeling a touch of shame at what had become of his last jacket, he wondered if Kermit knew. A stray lock tumbled over his forehead into his eyes and he irritably shoved it aside. Catching his big brother's look, he grimaced. "I suppose next you're gonna want me to cut my hair."

Kermit raised an eyebrow as he arranged the clothing into neater piles. "It's your hair. Wear it however the hell you want. I'd never wear mine that long but why should I care how long your hair is?"

"Helen would have held me down with the chain saw to cut it."

"I'm not Helen. I would suggest that you wash it, though." Pointing toward the large package, Kermit said, "You open that one."

David looked at the large cardboard box just like it was a poisonous snake. Kermit refused to change expression as the boy cautiously opened it and was stunned speechless. Pulling out a long black case, David gasped in anticipation.

It was a black Gibson Les Paul electric.

Kermit couldn't suppress the grin spreading across his face. "Now, if anyone takes this guitar away from you, tell me."

His eyes shining, David mumbled, "What would you do? Kill them?"

"Over a guitar?" Kermit snorted. "I'd just buy you another one, and get you a case with a lock and key. The Marshall stack is outside."

If possible, the boy's jaw became even more slack. Then, all of a sudden, a hint of his former energy was apparent. "Igottaseeit!!!" In a flash, he was out the door and back minutes later, struggling to carry the huge amplifier into the cabin. "Can I try it now, Kermit??" The begging would have melted solid stone.

"That's what it's there for."

Kermit sprawled over the chair as he watched the young man operate the musical instrument as sure and as expertly as he had wielded a hypodermic.

Soon, the sounds reverberated throughout the rustic cabin. There was pure joy on the boy's face as "Layla" was delicately coaxed from the state-of-the-art instrument.

"Derek and the Dominos! Great, kid!" Kermit's musical tastes had changed over the years but he still enjoyed Clapton. David, so enraptured by the joy of creation, never answered.Just continued to wail away on his new gift.

Kermit had seen this expression of ecstasy before on David's face. He much preferred it here and now as he closed his eyes and listened....listened as David played his heart and soul.

~~~

David hoisted the ax above his head and sent it into the log with a resounding thunk that echoed throughout the trees. Sweat was pouring down his forehead -- he'd been at this for over two hours -- and his muscles hurt but it was a good hurt. He couldn't suppress a smirk of satisfaction as he chopped at the log again.

"You only have to chop the log, kiddo," Kermit called from the porch, "not liquefy it!"

David grinned as a response, nodding his head in Kermit's direction before turning to attack the log once more. Kermit was full of surprises. It had been the mercenary's idea to chop wood for the Blaisdells in partial repayment for the use of their cabin and the resulting damage therein.

<He doesn't mind killing people but he insists on this. > David was trying to figure out his big brother. The talk they had about Kermit's 'career' didn't seem to do any good to change Kermit's mind about his vocation. David figured he would give it another shot while they were on the road. They would have plenty of time.

He finished with the one piece of wood and was about to start on another when he heard a shrill whistle. Looking up, he saw Kermit waving at him.

"Come on up, Kid," Kermit called. "We gotta go."

David quickly put the ax back where it belonged, stacked the wood that he had chopped and wearily trudged up the stairs, accepting the brotherly shoulder-clasp Kermit gave him as he reached the top of the stairs.

"How you feeling, Squirt?" Kermit asked, concerned.

"Fine. Well, okay, I guess," David clarified. He wanted a hit. That was the bottom line of the whole thing but he didn't want to tell Kermit.

Kermit seemed to know, but he wouldn't say it. "Go take a shower and then we'll take off."

David smiled; it seemed that Kermit just couldn't help but give orders. He wondered idly if the military had done that to him or if that was just a part of Kermit's personality. David couldn't be sure, since his memories of Kermit were all before he'd reached the age of ten. Peeling off his clothes, he padded to the bathroom and showered as Kermit finished cleaning up. David noticed a stack of clean clothes in the bathroom, waiting for him.

<Assassin or not, he always thinks ahead.> David felt a sense of pride in his brother, even for something as small as that.

Once cleaned, dried and dressed, David stepped out into the den of the cabin, looking around, saying a silent good-bye to his hell. <This is where I gotta leave it behind.> He vowed that he would leave it all here. His hatred, his habit.... <After all, if Kermit is going to leave it behind, so can I.>

In his fifteen years, he felt forty years old. He was now responsible for himself -- himself and Kermit -- just as Kermit had claimed responsibility for him. He would walk out that door a man and leave the teenage junkie behind. It didn't matter how much his mouth watered for a hit. He and Kermit would watch out for each other now. He didn't need the smack anymore. He had his older brother back. The older brother he had screamed his guts out for years ago. He was going to make Kermit proud of him. He was going to be a man.

Kermit came in after loading the car full of their supplies and gave the rooms a last cursory look around. Finally, he turned to David. "Ready, Squirt?"

Kermit's innocent question caused the teenager to snort in laughter. <Guess I'll always be a squirt to him.>

"What?" Kermit asked, smirking. It was ironic that either of them could laugh now after what they'd been through.

"Nothing," David waved it off, smiling. "I'm ready. Where are we going first? You think we can visit Aunt Helen before we take off into the wild blue yonder to pelt tomatoes on her perfect picture window?"

Kermit lost his smile.

"Oh, come on, lighten up! I'm joking!" David insisted, slapping Kermit on the arm. "But I didn't think that you would be against the idea that much. What? Kermit? What's the matter?" David was beginning to get an uneasy feeling. Kermit was wearing the same expression that he wore when he confessed to him and Marilyn that he had been in a fight and 'The Plan' had changed. <No...he wouldn't....Not after all we've just been through....>

"David...Squirt....," Kermit began uncomfortably, "I know we never talked about this and I don't know what you were expecting but you...you can't stay with me. You can't live with me. I've found a place--"

"You bastard." It was said as a whisper but, to the mercenary's ears, it was as loud as cannons. "You brought me here, got me clean, put us through all this...for SHIT!!!??? How could you do this???!!! AGAIN!!!!"

"David-"

"I TRUSTED YOU!!! AGAIN!!! I-"

This time, the mercenary wouldn't take it. Crossing the room in three long strides, he plastered his brother to the wall. "Just SHUT UP!" he yelled back. He wasn't going to take it anymore. He couldn't live with the guilt he had and he didn't need the new dish David was offering up for him. In a calmer voice, he continued. "You think I'm happy about it, you're nuts! But you're still a minor, David! You're still a kid! You're clean now - you have a chance. But you're not going to get that chance hanging around with me! Don't you get it? I'm NOT clean! I never will be! I'm not into drugs, I'm into death. I wouldn't invite my worst enemy to the hellholes I end up working. I'm not about to drag a fifteen-year-old into it, no way, no how! Your ass is sitting in the shelter home I found for you until you're old enough to make your own way. But it's NOT going to be with me!"

Shelter home. Away from Marilyn and away from Kermit. Away from Jamie and everything he'd ever known. Away from everything that was familiar and that made him feel safe, even if he wasn't. David looked into the green glasses with hatred. He thought he had learned to know Kermit but he was wrong. His brother had died years ago. It was time to mourn him and forget about him. Permanently.

It wasn't necessary for David to express his feelings. Hatred boiled out of every pore as Kermit slowly released him. <And here I thought things would be different.. > Kermit took the boy's arm to firmly lead him out of the cabin. David jerked his arm away and swaggered out ahead of Kermit, not looking back. <Guess that's what I get for thinking.>

David strode out after his brother and angrily threw himself into car.

Kermit felt the weight of his failure squeeze once again. Without words of comfort of explanation, he drove away to abandon his brother once again.

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10   Part 11   Part 12   

Back to author's index      Back to Story index