Close to Home - epilogue

[iesika]

Close to Home

Epilogue

Justine finished reading the article out loud and folded up the paper. She tucked it under the edge of Alex's lunch tray. "Poor kids," she said, her pretty face twisting into a frown. "Conner's so sweet. He came to check on you, and he was such a mess. He was trying to reassure me, though."

"He's a good kid," Alex agreed. They all were, really. He turned his head as far as the neck brace would allow and looked at the row of cards and vases that stretched along the window ledge. Funny thing, you never knew how popular you were until everybody thought you were dying. "I can't believe he's dating a celebrity," he said, and chuckled. "Small town boy made good, I guess."

"Hasn't sent a card, yet," Justine said. Lorelei tugged at her pant-leg, so she bent and lifted her up onto the bed to sit between Alex's feet. "There's one from that woman - his aunt, you said? She sent jam or something, too. Something in a jar."

Alex made a face. "Why didn't you tell me that before I ate that awful meatloaf? I'd have sent you down for extra rolls, or something."

"Hey."

Alex looked down the bed at the girl who was, for all intents and purposes, his stepdaughter. Her mother had pulled her hair back in a ponytail today, and it shone like copper in the sunlight. "Yes, sweetie?"

"Can I eat your jello?"

Justine snorted and pulled the rolling tray-table toward her daughter. "Have at, kid," she said, sticking a spork in her hand.

Lorelei's little face lit up, and she dug into the quivering green mass with great delight.

"You know what that's made of?" Alex said, smirking.

"Cow feet and pig bones," she said, sounding bored. "You told me already. But it still tastes good."

Alex chuckled, wincing a little at the pain in his ribs. "I find your pragmatism most admirable, young lady," he said.

Lorelei slurped jello through her teeth at him.

Someone knocked on the door, and then one of the nurses poked her head in. Alex hoped it wasn't a bad sign that he couldn't remember her name. "You've had another delivery," she said.

Justine exhaled and looked around. "I don't think there's room for more flowers. You think they're expecting bonus points in return, or what?"

"It's not flowers," the nurse said. She stepped into the room with a small, flat, brown box. "Little package."

"Maybe it's more cookies!" Lorelei said excitedly.

"You've already got jello," Justine said absently as she took the box. It was stamped 'FRAGILE', so she refrained from shaking it. "Want me to open it?"

Alex held up his hands, which were still loosely bandaged over his burns. "I think you'd better."

"No, me," Lorelei, said, reaching, but her mother pulled it out of her grasp.

"Honey, it says ‘fragile’. That means there's something in it that could break." She slid her nail under the packing tape, and then stopped, looking down at the box with a sardonic expression. "Alex? Have you been sending off letters to supermodels?"

To..."What?" he asked.

"The return address says ‘Kory Anders’."

Kory Anders? What? Alex tried to sit up, only to be fussed at by both his girlfriend and the nurse. Justine helped him raise the bed a little, and held the box out in front of him as she opened it. Inside, there was a card with a picture of a cartoon scientist on it, and a small, framed photo of Anders in a bikini under a waterfall, signed and bearing a lipstick print. Alex was already grinning at the thought of the comments he'd get from his students with that on his desk.

"Oh, that's tasteful," Justine said, dryly, and pulled the photo out to shove it under a blanket before Lorelei could see. The box rattled, and Dalton looked down to see there had been two little vials under the picture.

Justine lifted them out for his inspection. One was full of thick, dark, vibrantly orange liquid, and the other contained a curl of reddish-brown hair.

"Oh my god," Alex said, his breath coming quick. "They're samples."

"What?" Justine asked. "Hold on!" she scolded as he fumbled for the card with his painfully swollen fingers. "I'll read it!"

The card didn't have a printed message in it. Instead, it bore a few lines of delicate, loopy script in purple ink.

"’Dear Alex’," Justine read out. "’I've heard an awful lot about you from a friend of mine, and I just wanted to express my wishes for your speedy recovery. My friend thought you might have enough flowers, so he asked me to send along something a little more personal, with his regards. Best of luck, Kory Anders. PS, I'd love a copy of the paper when you're done with these. You can pass it on to Conner.’ And then she kissed the paper. You'd think the picture would have been enough."

Alex's fingers twitched under the bandages. "Oh my god," he said again. He turned to the nurse quickly. "Was the package at the desk for long? I need to know how old that blood sample is." His heart sank. "The mail must have come hours ago."

"Didn't come with the mail," the nurse said, taking the card from Justine to look it over. "This kid delivered it to the station just now. I barely even saw him, he disappeared so fast."

"Can you get me some ice? Dry ice, I mean. And an insulated box. You've got to have them in the phlebotomy and histology labs-"

"Mr. Dalton," the nurse said suddenly. "Calm down. You're sending your monitor haywire."

Alex took a deep breath and forced himself back against the pillows. "But can you get the ice?"

"I've got a friend downstairs," she said. She stepped forward and adjusted his IV. "I'll go call him, but you've got to stay calm, okay?"

"Right," Alex said, trying very hard to control his breathing. "Calm. Okay. Honey, can you call Charles? Tell him he can co-author if he'll let me use his lab. Oh, fuck. I can't even use my hands."

"Alex!" Justine snapped, clapping her hands over her daughter's ears.

He fell silent, feeling suddenly sheepish.

Justine sighed and gave him a fondly exasperated look. "They won't let you out of here if you give yourself a heart attack. I'll call Charles. Just calm down, okay?"

"Yes, dear," Alex said, but his mind was racing.

Alien DNA. Alex grinned. Oh, that was much better than another potted mum. What a thoughtful boy!

Index

Comments

[iesika.livejournal.com]

This comment made me grin so hard. You really made my day. I'm sorry I took so long to respond, but I wanted to make sure I had a moment to sit down and really thank you for all your kind words.

When I got the idea for this story, my primary goal was to get Tim undercover as Kon's date, somehow. It grew from there, and developed a plot and a bunch of secondary characters that I kind of fell in love with, and it just turned into this great big monster thing, with themes and issues. It's not quite like anything else I've ever written. I'm glad it all came together so well for you. ^_^

I'm so glad you liked the characterization, both original and otherwise. Kon's growth was really the center of this story, to me, even more so than the plot or the romance. He's been in limbo for so long, and when I started writing this we were all pumped for his upcoming return without much of any idea where his character would be going. I wanted to show him growing up and changing without changing at his core, if that makes any sense.

I've lived in cities all my life, but growing up, I spent a lot of time in small towns and on farms, visiting relatives. I tried to bring some of that experience into the story. As for technical research - I actually didn't have to do all that much, because the most political parts of the story are semi-autobiographical. I wasn't in Kon's or Clarence's role, exactly, and no one died at my school, but the general sense of being under siege was something I started living with at 14, when Matthew Shepherd was killed. I ended up involved in a district-wide youth-based movement of sorts, as a friend in another school literally fought all the way to the supreme court for his right to found a GSA at his school. The whole sub-story of the kids at school came about because I couldn't imagine any other reaction to a hate crime on campus that made any sense to me. When we (my high school friends and I) felt threatened, we reacted by banding together. I watched the same thing play out here recently with the Jena Six. Getting mad doesn't do any good unless you get organized, and teenagers can make a difference.

Thanks so much again for taking the time to leave such a lovely note. ^_^ I can't tell you how happy I am that you got so much out of my story.