Fic: Witness Protection, Part 22/25
Title: Witness Protection, part 22/25
Fandom: Parks and Recreation
Characters/Ships: Ben/Leslie, Chris/Ann, Andy/April, Ben/Pawnee, ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 10,000
Summary: When corporate whistleblowers Ben Adams and Chris Robinson barely escape an attempt on their lives, they gladly accept the protection of the Federal Witness Protection program. What they don't count on is being sent to a city that feels more like something out of a movie or a sitcom than real life: Pawnee Indiana. An AU starting in "Master Plan."
Author's Notes: We're in the home stretch. Thanks so much for sticking with this story for so long. I appreciate everyone who is reading and commenting more than you can know. And much thanks is due to saucydiva for her beta reading. She keeps me sharp. Thanks! Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21
As Leslie began to wake up, her head spun with thoughts of grant proposals that were due soon and lists of tasks to accomplish before launching the spring youth sports season when she noticed a persistent ache in her side.
Did I eat some bad shrimp last night? Or run into a table? Or-?
She opened her eyes, gasping, as she remembered with sudden clarity the true source of her ache.
"Leslie-sweetie-are you alright? Do you need any more pain medication?" Her mother leaped up from a chair beside her hospital bed and hurried to her side.
Leslie blinked in the dim light of the various monitors and displays, with just a hint of dawn light creeping in around the blinds. "Mom? When did you get here?" Her voice came out in a low croak.
Her mom took her hand and looked down at her with a strained smile. "I've been here all night, but you were pretty out of it when I got here. I'm not surprised you forgot. And Ann is here, too. She's just down the hall getting us some coffee."
Leslie felt her muscles relax a little. Good. She needed Ann, right now. But first she needed to clear a few things up. She swallowed, and winced at her throat feeling as dry as it had ever been.
"Was-was anyone else hurt?"
Her mom's jaw was tight. She shook her head. "None of your friends were hurt."
Leslie sighed and relaxed even more. She could bear the pain just fine, as long as no one else was hurt. "Good. Good." Her side ached when she took a deep breath, and a new fear pricked her mind. Wincing, she looked up at her mom. "Am I going to be all right?"
Her mom held her hand a little tighter, and Leslie saw the gleam of moisture standing in her mother's eyes. Marlene nodded. "You're going to be okay. The doctor can explain better than I can, but yes-you'll bounce back from this."
Leslie swallowed hard and nodded, tears welling in her own eyes. She wanted to ask about Ben-where was he? Why wasn't he here with her? But in her heart she already knew the answer. The marshals had come, and he was gone.
I couldn't even say goodbye.
Ann stepped into the room, each of her hands clutching a coffee cup. Her mouth flew open when she saw Leslie, and she rushed to the bed, setting the cups on the nearest table.
"Oh my god, Leslie! I thought we'd lose you!" Tears stood in her bloodshot eyes, and her hair frizzled out around a messy ponytail.
Leslie smiled as well as she could through the pain. "I'm still here."
Ann's concerned expression broke into a smile and she let out a few soft laughs. "Thank god." Then her face hardened. "But if I ever see Ben again, I swear, I'll wring his neck until his face turns blue for getting you shot!"
Leslie gasped and the pain in her side flared again. She blinked back a few tears and tried to focus on breathing without hurting herself. She'd explain everything to Ann later. Ann would understand-none of this was Ben's fault. She'd get it. Wouldn't she?
"I think she needs more pain medication. Let me go get the doctor," said Ann, bustling back out.
A nurse followed Ann back in soon after to give Leslie another dose of pain meds that not only reduced her pain but calmed her emotional turmoil, at least a little. By the time the doctor arrived she was feeling pleasantly floaty, and couldn't completely grasp everything he said, but she got the gist of it.
Serious blood loss. Two fractured ribs. A lacerated liver. But very lucky.
"De-what?" Leslie asked, stopping the doctor as he rambled on about the bullet.
"Deformed. The bullet was already deformed when it hit you. It must have passed through an obstacle before reaching you."
Leslie blinked a few times, trying to focus. "I was behind a tree. A big, beautiful tree."
"Well," said the doctor, "that tree probably saved your life. If the bullet hadn't been deformed and slowed by passing through the tree first, it would have caused a great deal more damage. You probably would have bled out at the scene. But thanks to that tree we'll have you out of here in less than 72 hours, and back to work in less than two weeks."
Squinting at the spots floating in front of her eyes, Leslie tilted her head a little, trying to make sense of it all. "Really?"
The doctor nodded. "Really."
"Wow." Back to work in less than two weeks. That was a small price to pay for keeping him safe. Them safe. Everyone safe. Whatever. Leslie shook her head a little to clear the spots from her vision and said the first thing that popped into her mind. "I really love that tree. All trees. Trees are the best."
The doctor chuckled. "I can understand the sentiment."
He rambled on about medications and expectations and therapies for a few more minutes, while Leslie found it increasingly difficult to focus her eyes. And ears. And mind.
Ann stepped in. "Doctor, I think she's had enough for now. Maybe we should let her go back to sleep."
"Of course." The doctor nodded.
After he left, Ann and Marlene stood by Leslie, smiling down at her.
"We'll let you sleep some more, sweetheart," said Marlene, a weary smile on her face. "The more you sleep, the faster you'll heal."
"Is that really true?" Leslie asked.
Marlene raised her eyebrows and looked at Ann. Ann shrugged. "I have no idea. But let's pretend it is, for now. Okay?"
"Okay," whispered Leslie. Would the drugs make it so that she didn't dream? She hoped so. She couldn't take any bad dreams right now. "Will you be here when I wake up?" She really didn't want to be alone with her thoughts. Not yet.
"Of course we will," said Ann. "Always."
Leslie had no trouble believing her.
~ ~ ~
The rest of the day passed in a drug induced haze. Leslie didn't grasp much of what happened in her brief periods of wakefulness, other than being surrounded by reassuring nurses, reassuring doctors, a reassuring mother, and a reassuring Ann.
The next morning, when she once more woke with an ache in her side, she gritted her teeth and told the nurse she could handle it.
She'd had her time to rest. Now it was time to wake up and start facing the reality of her altered life, no matter how painful it might be.
She vaguely remembered sending Ann and her mom home the previous night so that they could sleep, so the first thing she did was get her hands on the phone in her room to call Ann and ask for her to bring a bag of clothes and toiletries back with her. Next, she called Ron.
"It's good to hear from you," he said with a voice that sounded rough with emotion, though she knew he'd deny it if she called him on it.
"How are April and Andy?" she asked. "I've been worried about them."
"They're a little rattled, but they're holding up alright."
Leslie nodded in relief. "Good. And . . . how are you?" She bit her bottom lip and held her breath, letting the question hang there through a long silence.
"I'm fine," Ron finally responded. "You're the one I've been worried about."
"Can you come see me?" Leslie swallowed hard.
"I'll be there as soon as I can. I would've come sooner, but the nurse insisted we'd wear you out."
"Come," said Leslie, her voice shaking. "Tell everyone else to come, too. I want to see everyone I care about. Please."
"Leslie-are you . . .?"
"I'm okay. I'll be okay. I just want to see my friends."
"I'll spread the word. See you soon."
Leslie hung up and sank back into her pillows, aching and exhausted. The next few weeks wouldn't be easy, but at least she had her friends. Who did Ben have? She wasn't even sure if they'd still keep him and Chris together. He could be out there, all alone.
She closed her eyes and tried not to think about it. The pain helped. She needed the pain to distract her.
A nurse arrived with breakfast, and Ann showed up ten minutes later with a smile on her face. "You're eating! That's great!"
"When you're hungry enough, anything can taste good," said Leslie around a bite of the hospital pancakes. Not as good as Ann's, but for now they would do.
She quickly finished her food. She needed a few minutes of time with Ann to clear the air about things. Leslie pushed aside her tray. "So . . . I guess there are few things we need to talk about."
Ann squeezed her lips together and nodded.
"Where do you want to start?" asked Leslie.
Ann took a deep breath. "Did you know about the witness protection thing when you started dating him? Or was he still lying to you?"
Leslie didn't like the note of suspicion in Ann's voice, but she understood why it was there. "I didn't know about it the first time we slept together, after his mom was hurt. Which was real, by the way. She really was in an accident. He told me the truth the week after he came back, right before we got together for real. I knew exactly what I was getting into."
"Really?" Ann still looked skeptical.
"Really."
"Okay."
Now for the hard part. "I'm sorry I lied to you. I didn't want to, but the more people in on the secret, the more dangerous things could get," said Leslie.
"Clearly," Ann replied softly.
That one stung a little. It certainly wasn't the first time Leslie had wondered if all this was her fault. If she hadn't asked him to stay-if she hadn't pushed him into so much risky behavior-maybe none of this would have happened. "I'm really, really sorry. I owe you about a million apologies. I know I can trust you. I should have told you the truth. And you deserved to know about Chris. I should have said something. I should have brought you into the circle of trust. I-"
"Leslie, no," Ann interrupted. "You didn't-"
At that moment the door burst open and her mother walked in carrying a bouquet of cake pops. "Look who I found on the way up," she said with a smile as Andy, April, Tom, Donna and Ron all bustled in and crowded around Leslie, filling the air with their enthusiastic greetings.
Leslie was so happy to see them all that it was enough to pull her out of the pain of her discussion with Ann. After giving everyone the best one-armed hugs she could muster, she beamed at them while they all listed the ways they'd been stepping up to help out at the office in her absence.
"Thank you guys. This is just wonderful. I love you all so much." Leslie couldn't stop the tears from welling in her eyes. She truly did work with the most wonderful people on earth.
Andy looked at her with eyes that looked just as moist as hers felt. "I thought this whole hitman chase thing was really exciting when we first started. But now I just feel like an idiot. They could have killed some of my best friends-or even my wife-and I was acting like it was Disneyland or something. I'm so sorry Leslie." April leaned against him and took his hand.
Leslie swallowed her tears and reached out to rest her hand on Andy's arm. "No. You have nothing to be sorry for."
Andy shook his head. "I don't know."
"No, Andy. You guys were amazing. Really."
Donna and Ann piped in with words of agreement, but Andy looked unconvinced.
"I was scared," said a voice so soft and timid that it took Leslie a few seconds to realize that it was April. She wouldn't meet Leslie's eyes when she spoke again and she huddled against Andy as if she wanted to hide. "I was so scared that they'd do something to Andy, or to me. All I could think was that I was too young for it be over. I have too much left to do. And then when we were safe at the police station I started feeling so guilty for not doing more to stop them, because they were still out there after you and Ben and Chris, and I hadn't done enough."
Leslie nearly lost it when April wiped her eyes. She'd never seen April care this much about anything other than Andy.
"You shouldn't be here," said April, shaking her head. "I'm so mad at Ben for getting you into this. He never should have gotten involved with you. He should have known better."
"He knew the risks," broke in Ron's gruff voice from where he stood near the door. "If he really cared about you he would have stayed away to keep you safe. He was reckless and selfish." He folded his arms across his chest and nodded decisively.
Leslie could hardly breathe.
Marlene, standing beside the bed, shook her head. "I know how crazy you are about him, honey, but I have to agree. What kind of man knowingly puts someone he cares about in danger?"
"Seriously," said Tom, "what was the guy thinking?"
"He should have left before putting you in this position," concluded Ron.
"Stop it! Just-stop it!" Leslie fiercely wiped away the tears rolled down her cheeks. "I don’t want to hear one more word. Okay? He was ready to leave before Thanksgiving. He told me that he would leave. That he thought it would be safest and best if he left. And I told him to stay. Okay? I made that choice. It wasn't him being selfish and reckless-it was me. I knew it wasn't safe, but I didn't care. I wanted him to stay. I thought the risk was worth it. Because I love him." Her voice shook as she admitted it out loud for the first time. "I love him. I won't stand for hearing any of you blaming any of this on him ever again. Got it?"
Everyone shuffled their feet and nodded.
"I don't get why everyone is so mad at Ben," said Andy, still squeezing April's hand. "I mean, April told me all about the trial thing he and Chris are a part of, and they're like, heroes. They're trying to get justice for the families of people who died of cancer. That's pretty awesome. And if I was a hero on the run and the girl I loved asked me to stay a little longer, I'd probably do it." He shrugged. "I mean, heroes deserve the chance to be happy, too, don't they? Otherwise they'd forget why they were trying to be heroes in the first place."
Leslie's shoulders shook with emotion as she quietly cried, and she didn't even care how much it made her ribs hurt. "That was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard," she managed to say after a moment. "Thank you."
"Andy's right," said Ann as she patted Leslie's leg reassuringly. "Ben and Chris are heroes."
"Heroes can still be reckless and foolish," grumbled Ron, scowling at Ann.
Ann scowled right back. "Yes, they can. And maybe Ben and Chris were a little reckless and foolish. And it was hard finding out that they'd been lying to us this whole time, but they were hiding the truth for a good reason. And even though it drew more public attention to them, they went out of their way to help us all, and to help the community, and to be good friends to all of us. They didn't have to do any of that, but they did. Because they're good men. That's who they are, and that's why they gave up their whole lives for this trial. So what if they made a few mistakes? They're still good people. We shouldn't be mad at Ben. We should be mad at George Everson and his hitmen. They're the ones responsible for this."
Ron nodded his assent, and several of Leslie's other friends added their words of agreement.
Leslie beamed through her tears. Ann always knew just what to say. Now that Ann understood how Leslie felt, everything else would work out. Somehow.
After a moment, Ann managed to turn the conversation back around to more ways for everyone to help out while Leslie recovered. Soon they said their good-byes. On her way out, Donna paused, "Jerry didn't come because he was afraid you wouldn't want him on account of-well-you know."
Leslie knit her brows. "No, I don't know."
Donna's lips froze in a startle "O," and Ron was the one to break the silence.
"Jerry was the one who told the hitmen we were at Slippery Elm cabin. Apparently, they convinced him that they were old friends of Ben." Ron scowled.
"Oh. My." Leslie's mind spun. She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry.
"He feels terrible," said Donna. "Which he should. But, uh, he wanted me to tell you how sorry he is. He feels responsible for everything. Which he kind of is, but it was just Jerry being Jerry. He didn't mean for anything bad to happen."
Leslie swallowed and nodded. "God. Yes. He didn't. But-god. I don't even know what to say."
Donna bobbed her head. "Yeah. None of us know what to say, either."
"Don't be too hard on him," said Leslie. "It's not his fault. Not really. He was just the final link in a long chain of questionable choices." She sighed. Holding a grudge against Jerry for being stupid would be just as pointless as holding a grudge against a dog for eating out of the trash. They just couldn't help themselves. "Tell him I forgive him."
Donna wore a tight smile. "I'll tell him."
Soon only Ron, Ann and Marlene were left.
Leslie was exhausted from the morning of hard conversations, but there were a few more details that she needed cleared up before she would let herself sleep again. "Ron-so. I guess the marshals swept Ben and Chris away as soon as they got to them, right?"
"Essentially. Yes."
Well, it was what she'd been assuming, anyway. No need for more details that Ron seemed uninterested in sharing. "I don't suppose you have any idea where they are, or what happened to them?"
"No. I do know that Agent Burdette is interested in debriefing you once you're feeling a little better. She took my criticisms well and handled my debriefing efficiently. I'm sure she'll do the same with you. She seems a good sort of law officer. One I can respect."
Huh. That was a little more detail on the marshal than Leslie expected. She must have made a really good impression on Ron. Leslie nodded and then launched into her second, more difficult question. "What happened to the guy? The one who. . . you know. The guy."
Ron stared at her blankly for a moment before his eyes brightened. "The one who shot you?"
Leslie coughed a little and nodded. "Yeah. Him. What happened to him?"
"Ben took him down with two shots to center mass, and I ensured he'd be unable to return fire by knocking him unconscious with a few blows to the cranium."
"Oh." Leslie's eyes went wide. "My god. Ben shot him? Is he-dead?"
Ron sighed. "From what I understand, he's in a coma, but not expected to recover."
"Oh my god." Leslie's heart ached. She'd done this. She'd put Ron and Ben in the position to have no choice but to use deadly force. Ron could probably deal with it, but Ben . . . even when things were at their best, he'd still had moments where he'd freeze up, and she'd see the panic and trauma in his eyes, blocking out the rest of the man she loved. But now-after the chase, and the fight, and seeing her hurt, and then this. She closed her eyes. Though she was the one who got shot, she felt certain that Ben would take far longer to heal.
If only I could have gone with him. At least he wouldn't have to be alone. She shook her head. No. That had never been an option. Not really.
She tried to steady her nerves and looked back up at Ron. "Are you handling it okay?"
"Yes." Ron gave a short nod. "It doesn't bother me. He was human scum, and I'd do the same thing a dozen times over if it meant protecting you."
Leslie's throat closed up and she shook her head. "Did everyone make a pact to get me to cry as much as possible today? Because you're doing a really good job of it."
A little while later, after Ron had left and her mom had stepped out to make some phone calls, Leslie turned to Ann to ask the final question that was troubling her. "How are you really feeling about the whole Chris thing? Really?"
Ann sighed and leaned back in her chair. "I have to admit that this whole thing has reopened some old wounds. Over the holidays, Chris and I had some really good talks and came to a new understanding. I think we were starting to be friends. But knowing what I know now I'm angry all over again for the way he handled our relationship. He never should have tried for a real rebound relationship. If he was that desperate for company he should have settled for a few one-night stands. There's no shortage of women in town that would have been happy to oblige."
Leslie nodded, her lips tight.
"But even though I'm mad," said Ann, "knowing the truth answers a lot of questions. I feel like I understand him a lot better now than I ever did when we were together. And I meant what I said. I really do think that he and Ben are good men. Heroes, even. But they have made some mistakes along the way, and our relationship was one of Chris's mistakes. That hurts."
"I'm so sorry," said Leslie.
Ann shook her head and smiled. "This is the last thing you should be worried about right now. I'll deal with it. I'll be fine. I promise."
"I need someone else to worry about. I hate having to think about myself all the time."
"I know." Ann took Leslie's hand again. "That's why we all love you so much."
Leslie sighed and smiled. "You still think I was stupid for asking Ben to stay, don't you?"
Ann shrugged and smiled. "A little. I mean-look where you are! But if I was in your position and had someone that I cared about as much as you and Ben obviously care about each other, I probably would have been a little stupid, too."
"Thank you for everything." Leslie squeezed her friend's hand. She didn't know what she'd have done without Ann.
"Hey, that's what best friends are for, right?"
Truer words had never been spoken.
A short while later, after everyone left to let Leslie take a nap, her thoughts of Ben, far away and in pain, kept her awake.
~ ~ ~
Late in the afternoon of her last day in the hospital, the visitor Leslie has been both anticipating and dreading finally arrived. Agent Burdette turned out to be a slender brunette who looked a few years older than Leslie.
She knocked politely before stepping into Leslie's room, and Leslie immediately knew who she was. There was no mistaking her for anyone else.
Leslie sat up in her hospital bed, wishing she'd put on some of the clothes Ann brought her instead of staying in her hospital gown, and steeled herself. In the days since her injury she hadn't talked about the events leading up to it with anyone. But there was no avoiding it, now.
Tonya had a firm but soothing voice that helped put Leslie at ease, and she started off with a few questions about Leslie's health and her plans for rehab before asking, "So, I know this is difficult, but I need to get your version of what happened on Wednesday. Could you tell me exactly how you first became aware of a threat to the safety of your friends, Ben and Chris?"
Telling the story was easier than Leslie had expected. She followed Tonya's lead and tried to stay as calm and clinical about it as possible, avoiding all the messy emotional overtones that had filled that horrible afternoon. Tonya occasionally asked a few questions to give the conversation more direction and structure, but mostly she listened.
By the time she finished the story with her arrival at the hospital, Leslie actually felt strangely relieved to have the whole ordeal out there and off her chest. Maybe it would stop haunting her dreams, now that it was on a tape recording as part of an official report. Making things official had always been comforting to Leslie.
"Thank you for being so clear and candid," said Tonya. "I do have a few more questions. First, when did you and my witness become romantically involved?"
Leslie raised her eyebrows. "What do you need to know that for?"
"Mostly for the sake of improving my performance as an agent in future assignments," replied Tonya. "While most witnesses who have been permanently relocated eventually start new lives, including romantic involvements, we discourage witnesses in short-term relocations from engaging in those types of relationships. We need to know what we can do to better recognize the warning signs that our witnesses are engaging in risky behavior that might require our intervention."
"So, from your professional perspective, that's what I am? That's what our relationship was? Risky behavior that you want to discourage?" Leslie frowned. She'd been blaming herself enough for the past few days. Having someone in an official capacity jump on to start blaming her, too, was a little more than Leslie could take.
"I'm sorry," said Tonya. "But from where I'm standing that's the only way to look at it. My job is to protect my witnesses, and people on short-term relocations getting caught up in serious romances almost always leads to trouble. I don't mean to belittle your feelings-just-if there's any insight you could share that would help me do my job better in the future, I'd appreciate it."
Leslie gritted her teeth before responding. "There's nothing I can say to help you. Were we a little stupid at times? Probably. But I can't see our relationship as a mistake. You can't help who you fall in love with, or when, no matter how bad the timing might be. People like Ben and Chris are heroes. They're sacrificing their lives for the cause of justice. Don't they deserve a little happiness in return?" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can say to help you."
Tonya's lips were a tight line as she nodded. "Fine. I understand why you feel that way. But you need to understand that every witness costs the government tens of thousands of dollars, and events like what happened to you cost even more. It's our job to make sure things like this don't happen again. I know you might not feel like sharing today, but in a few weeks, when you're ready, I really need you to write up a history of your relationship along with any potentially risky behaviors that you witnessed Ben or Chris engaging in, and email it to me. This information is important. It can help us save both money and lives. Do you understand?"
Leslie sucked on her bottom lip and nodded. "I do. I'll-try."
Tonya nodded. "Good. Thank you for your help, Ms. Knope. And I'm sorry we're ending on a sour note. I like you. And I think that what you did this week was very brave." She stood up. "For the record, I agree with you. Ben and Chris are heroes. My niece has cancer. And if someone like Everson stood in the way of her getting her treatments I'd-well, it wouldn't be pretty."
A knot turned in Leslie's gut. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't . . ." She looked up into the Tonya's eyes. "How is she? Your niece?"
Tonya smiled with a bittersweet look in her eyes. "She's responding well to treatment. We're hopeful. Thank you." She reached inside her pad-folio and pulled out an envelope. "Look-this is a pretty big breach of protocol, but-before we transported Ben out of state, he wrote a letter for you. I had to read it to make sure there was no sensitive information. I'm sorry."
Leslie's hand shook a little as she took the envelope and clutched it to her chest. She looked back up at Tonya. "I'm sorry for being difficult. This means a lot. Thank you."
"It's okay. I understand." Tonya smiled at her and nodded before stepping quietly out of the room.
Leslie took a few deep breaths before opening the envelope and sliding out the single sheet of lined yellow paper, ripped from a legal pad.
"Leslie," it read, "I can't even begin to express the depth of my sorrow and regret over what happened to you. I wanted to stay and talk to you-to apologize in person and to make sure you'll be okay. But they wouldn't let me. That's the story of my life the past year and a half.
"I never should have allowed this to happen. Putting you and Ron and our other friends in danger like this is inexcusable. It was selfish and naïve of me to think that we'd be safe. I wanted to be with you so badly that I was in denial about the seriousness of the risks. And you're the one who paid for my poor judgment.
"I am so, so sorry. What happened to you because of me-what I did to you-is unforgiveable. I won't blame you if you never want to see me again after this. I've done nothing but make your life more complicated and difficult. I should never have let myself get so caught up in life in Pawnee. I never should have let myself get involved with you.
"But that same selfish part of me that made those choices in the first place is still glad that it did. You are truly one of the most amazing, gifted, inspirational people I've ever met. You have an extraordinary future ahead of you.
"But I almost cost you that future. I see now that you're better off without me. I want you to forget me. Don't waste your time waiting for me. Go live your life and follow all those amazing dreams that mean so much to you. I can't be a part of that. It's for the best that I'm gone. With me out of the way, you can finally go be everything that you're meant to be. Everything that you deserve to be. Go live your life, and find your happiness.
"I'll always treasure what we had. Thank you.
"Ben."
Tears flowed down Leslie's cheeks and her shoulders shook with emotion, flaring the pain in her side. It was everything she'd been afraid of. He blamed himself for everything. He took responsibility for everything. How would he ever bounce back from this?
He needed to know that she didn't blame him. He needed to know how much she still loved him. But she had no way to tell him.
~ ~ ~
Leslie thought she was prepared for the media onslaught when she left the hospital. In the local news they'd been lionizing Ben and Chris as Robin Hood style heroes fighting the rich to help the poor, and she and Ron were being portrayed as some kind of action heroes coming to their rescue. She'd found it amusing at first, as long as the media was barred from her hospital room. But when Ann rolled her wheelchair out the hospital doors only to find a crowd of flashing cameras and waving microphones waiting for them, she felt like she was drowning.
She managed to stammer out a few short statements about serving her country and helping her friends with a proud heart before Ann and her mother cleared a path to the waiting car and got her inside.
Tonya had left instructions not to give any specific comments regarding Ben and Chris's involvement in the case, but that didn't stop the media from making dozens of interview requests and trying to ambush her every time she left her house for the next week.
Leslie had no desire whatsoever to answer loaded question after loaded question regarding the nature of her romance with Ben. She still cried at least once a day thinking about that letter. Or flipping through the Ben-themed scrapbook she'd started making before Christmas. Or reading the letter again (even though Ann sternly warned her to stop reading it or she'd make herself crazy). The last thing she wanted was to break down on television and start ranting about her boyfriend wasting away from PTSD, with no one there to help him.
Ron had escaped the media by pleading out on account of being too busy. The mayor had roped him into being one prong of the three-department-head team that was filling in for Paul for the rest of his recovery from surgery, now that Ben and Chris were gone.
Leslie finally agreed to two interviews: one with Perd, and one with Shauna Malwae-Tweep, on the condition that all questions were pre-approved. Joan Callamezzo kept hassling her, but there was no way Leslie would trust Joan to stick to the script. Leslie managed to hold herself together during the interviews, and actually came across as confident and strong, in spite of still feeling like a mess on the inside.
After the interviews the media requests began to trail off, and Leslie focused on getting ready to go back to work. Being trapped in her home alone all day with nothing but her thoughts was killing her. If she could get her hands on some new projects to tackle, she'd be okay.
On her first day back to the office, she stepped into the Parks Department to find it festooned with streamers, balloons, and flower arrangements alongside a J.J.'s-catered breakfast buffet and huge "Welcome Back Leslie!" banner.
She broke down in tears. Again. But once she'd calmed down, she enjoyed two huge helpings of waffles.
Being back at work certainly helped. But now every day was marred by the small ache in her side, and the even bigger ache in her heart.
~ ~ ~
Though it was past ten in the morning when Chris got back to the apartment from his jog and errands, it looked as if Ben was still in bed. Chris sighed, though he'd expected as much.
It had been pretty much the same for the nearly four weeks that they'd been in Tucson, Arizona. Neither of them had jobs-their cover was as out-of-work cousins, though Chris had rarely needed to use it. He'd only had a few brief conversations with the neighbors, and his chats with patrons or employees of local establishments were generally brief. Chris didn't much care for the isolation-it made him antsy and frustrated. However, it was already February. The trial was coming up quickly. He could last a few more weeks.
Every day he would get up, enjoy a morning run in the pleasantly warm weather, drop in at the natural foods market for a green smoothie and a gluten free muffin, and then run back to the apartment to find Ben still in bed.
Ben spent approximately half of every twenty-four hour cycle in bed, and much of the other half in long baths or lying on the couch staring at the cracks in the ceiling of their low-rent apartment. He'd given up on shaving, only ate when Chris prodded him, and almost never left the apartment. Chris had literally never seen anyone in such a deep depression. He tried not to spend too many hours away from the apartment at a time, because he genuinely feared that he'd return to find that Ben had done serious harm to himself.
When Chris voiced his fears to their new pair of federal marshals two weeks earlier, they'd turned up the next day with a bottle of Zoloft in hand and instructions for Chris to make sure Ben took them. Chris had done his duty, but Ben showed little improvement, so far.
Chris understood his friend's pain. But they had a difficult task coming up soon. Their testimony at the trial had the potential to change their lives for the better and end this exile from society. Ben needed to pull himself together.
Chris pulled a packet of papers out of his backpack. He'd broken some of the rules of their relocation today, but it was for a worthy cause.
He knocked on Ben's bedroom door, and then let himself in.
As he'd expected, Ben was still sprawled listlessly on his bed, staring at the shadows on his wall.
Without a word, Chris strode over to the window and opened Ben's blinds, letting in the bright sunlight.
Ben blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Time for breakfast?" he mumbled.
"Soon. I took a little extra time on my run this morning to stop by the library and get on the internet."
Ben frowned. "We're not supposed to be online. At all."
Chris nodded. "I know. But there were some things I needed to look up. And I'm glad I did. These are for you." He held out the stack of papers he'd printed out for fifteen cents apiece at the library. A worthy price to pay for what he hoped would be the beginning of his friend's recovery.
Ben furrowed his brow as he quickly flipped through the stack of papers. "These are news articles from Pawnee."
"Yes. They are. Go ahead and read them while I go make you some eggs."
If this didn't start to help, Chris had no idea what to try next.
~ ~ ~
Ben leaned against his headboard and started reading through the stack of articles for a third time.
The fogginess that had taken up what he thought was permanent residence in his head was beginning to clear, but he still didn't feel sharp enough to know exactly what he made of the new information being presented to him.
He was ready to outright dismiss the articles touting him as some sort of noble hero. That was obviously media-spin bullshit. If they knew the truth . . . He shook his head. No one really knew the truth of his selfishness. No one but him.
He flipped back to the Pawnee Journal interview with Leslie. There was a picture of her, smiling. Whole. Almost like she'd never been hurt at all.
But I know better. Ben traced the outline of her face with his fingertip. I saw her fall. I saw a pool of her blood burning its way through the snow. He still saw it almost every time he closed his eyes. He'd lie awake half of every night willing his eyes to stay open so he didn't have to face the sight of Leslie's life spilling out of her again and again and again.
Seeing her like this-reading her words, as positive and optimistic as ever-seemed more like a dream than reality. But here it was. In his hands.
She was okay. She was healing. She was going to be fine.
He let his eyes follow the words of the article until he found the paragraph that had stopped him in his tracks the first time he read it.
"When asked about her personal relationship with Ben Adams-rumored to be a passionate romance-Knope didn't go into detail, but her answer was telling. 'Ben and I shared a very special, very meaningful friendship. I care about him very much, and when he's completed his service for the federal justice system, I very much hope that we can see each other again. It would mean a lot to me to have him in my life again.'"
Ben swallowed hard and closed his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to believe that she'd really want to see him again after everything he put her through.
He'd said good-bye. He'd told her to move on. She had to see how much better off she was without him, right?
It didn't make any sense.
I can't let myself believe that there's still hope for us. I can't.
There was a short knock on his doorframe, and Ben looked up to see Chris standing there with a plate of eggs and toast. "How are you doing?" He looked apprehensive.
Ben cleared his throat and nodded. "I'm good. It's good. I'm good. I. . . I am good." He set the stack of papers down on the bed as Chris approached.
"So you're not too rattled by all this?" Chris gestured at the papers.
"No. No." Ben shook his head, searching for some comment that he was actually willing to share with Chris. "Um-so-he died, I guess."
Chris sat on the edge of the bed, still holding the plate. "The man you shot. Yes. Are you . . . okay?"
Ben was the farthest thing from okay about nearly all of this mess. Except for this. Out of the whole mess, this was the one thing that he felt good about. "I am. This says that the two guys are probably the same ones who killed the prosecutor at the courthouse, and the ones who sabotaged my mom's car. I'm glad he's dead. I'm glad that I was the one who killed him. Does that make me a bad person?"
Chris shook his head. "No. I think it just makes you human."
Ben nodded, and looked at the plate. "I think maybe I feel like eating in the kitchen today."
Chris smiled. "Good. That's good."
Maybe it was. Maybe it was time to let things be good, again.
~ ~ ~
"I don't know how to do this," said Leslie, squirming in the cozy armchair that sat in the office of Dr. Richard Nygard, Pawnee's preeminent therapist.
He nodded. A fuzzy stripe of salt and pepper hair circled the back of his head below his bald pate, and he looked at her over the top of the glasses perched on the end of his nose. "This is one of those things that you have to learn by doing."
Leslie tapped her fingers on her thighs. "I'm not even sure why I'm here. My friend Ann recommended you, and then when I mentioned it to my mom she helped Ann gang up on me to make an appointment."
"I understand their concern. You've been through some traumatic experiences, and the loss of someone very important to you. Those sorts of transitions can be difficult for anyone, and sometimes it helps to have a safe place to talk, without fear of judgment. Especially when you're in the public eye."
Leslie hadn't told him any that. She gave him an arch look. "I take it you follow the local news?"
He nodded. "I do."
She sighed. "So, where do I start? With the shooting? Or the lying to all my friends for months? Or the not being able to contact my boyfriend who probably really needs me right now?"
"The only place you need to start is with what you feel like talking about today. So what do you feel like talking about?"
Leslie toyed with the buttons on her blouse. She'd been watching her words for so many months now that it had become second nature, even with Ann. This was something completely different.
She bit lightly on her bottom lip as the silence stretched on longer. She didn't like long silences. "I sleep with a gun in my nightstand drawer," she said suddenly, not even realizing that was on her list of things to talk about.
Dr. Nygard nodded. "Does that help?"
"No. I still have bad dreams. And I still get jumpy every time I hear noises." She shook her head. "The police drive by five times a day-including over night. But it's hard feeling safe, any more. They went after Ben's mom to get to him. They could come after me, too. I mean, the guys that were doing it before won't. One of them is dead, and the other is in jail. But there could be others. You never know."
"Um-hmm." He nodded.
Wasn't he supposed to be helpful? Why didn't he say anything?
"You'd think with all that, I'd have trouble sleeping, but I don't. I'm exhausted at the end of every day. And I get sleepy after lunch. That never used to happen. I've been sleeping a lot longer than I used to. Almost six hours a night."
Dr. Nygard raised an eyebrow. "That's long for you?"
"Well, I usually only sleep four or four and a half hours. So, yes. My doctor said that fatigue is normal for people recovering from my injuries, but I still don't like it. I have bad dreams. And I wake up worried about what might have happened overnight."
"I see."
It was Leslie's turn to raise her eyebrows. "So, you're not going to say anything? Or do anything?"
"Not yet." He tented his fingers. "It's still your time to talk."
"Okay."
After forty more minutes of prolonged silences and sporadic outbursts of things she hadn't told anyone else, Leslie's time was up. She shook Dr. Nygard's hand and left not knowing whether she felt any better or not. But she still scheduled an appointment for next week.
~ ~ ~
Ben started going for walks in the evening. Aimless, rambling walks around his neighborhood. He'd started feeling restless, after so many weeks shut up inside.
The weather in Tucson in February was pretty amazing, but he'd been warned about the summers. He was pretty glad he'd be gone by then.
The first time he went out, he stopped in at a nearby convenience store and was looking at snacks when he noticed two rough-looking college age boys whispering in low tones by the refrigerated cases, looking shifty. It was enough to trigger a panic attack. Ben managed to escape to the restroom, where it took him more than twenty minutes of deep breathing to calm himself back down so he could walk home. He noticed the cashier giving him a dirty look on his way out. When he made it back to the apartment he forced a smile for Chris's sake.
He didn't intend to go out the next night, but after an early dinner his legs started feeling restless again. This time he forced himself to keep to a short route, and circled the two block radius around his apartment building three times before calling it a night.
On his third excursion he stepped into a bookstore, and a teenage boy bumped into him passing the news stand. Ben felt the panic start to rise again and headed for the bathroom. This time he managed to pull himself together after just a few minutes. Maybe those pills Chris kept giving him were finally starting to work.
After returning from his fourth successful outing, to be once again greeted by his grinning roommate, Ben decided it was time to swallow his pride.
"Hey, Chris," he said, struggling for the right words to convey the full depth of his feelings, "I need to-to say thank you. For everything, lately. I just-thanks for being here for me. Really."
Chris reached out and placed a hand on Ben's shoulder. "Anything for a friend."
Ben's throat got tight and he nodded. It was more than that, and Chris knew it. But for now, this thanks would have to be enough. He met Chris's eyes. "How did you do it? How did you keep going like this, and pull yourself together, after all that's happened?"
Chris stared thoughtfully into space for a moment before answering. "I found something inside myself in those woods," he said. "I strength and a courage that I'd never known was there. I've been letting that new understanding of myself carry me through. Besides-you needed me."
"I did." Ben could barely speak through the emotional clogging his throat. "I do. Thank you."
Chris pulled Ben into a warm hug, and, for the first time, Ben wasn't the first one to pull away.
The next morning, Ben stood at the stove making his own eggs for breakfast when Chris returned home from his run with another print-out of a Pawnee article. Ben resisted his first impulse to chide Chris for risking another jaunt onto the internet (he had no intention of making the same mistakes here as he did in Pawnee), but the sight of Leslie's name in the headline was too much for him. He took the paper and started reading, his eyes growing wider by the second.
"She's getting her park," he whispered. The Swanson-Knope Hero Park (sponsored by Sweetums) was being built on lot 48, and would feature hero-themed play equipment and a monument to honor everyday heroes like police officers, emergency responders, doctors, and members of the military. Ben felt a tight knot of emotion in his chest.
"I can't imagine any more meaningful way to honor Leslie for her actions," said Chris.
Ben nodded, tears clouding his vision. He couldn't hide the emotion in his voice when he spoke. "She deserves this. More than anyone I've ever known."
His whole frame ached with regret and loneliness. He closed his eyes and let himself imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like to stand beside her at the ribbon-cutting ceremony. To share in her joy and excitement. God, she'd be radiant.
But it wasn't meant to be. Life had proven to him again and again that he wasn't destined for happiness. And now, he couldn't stand in way of Leslie's happiness, either. She was better off without him. Better off by far.
"I'm happy for her," he said in a rough voice. "Really happy."
After finishing his breakfast, Ben tucked the new article away in the folder he kept hidden between his mattress and box spring, along with the other articles Chris had printed out. He wouldn't let himself read them again. It was too much, to see the pictures of her face. To be reminded of the life she was building without him. But he still wanted to keep them close. As if a part of her was still with him.
He knew he'd have to let go completely one of these days, but he wasn't ready quite yet.
~ ~ ~
Shaking Mayor Gunderson's hand at the groundbreaking for a park named in her honor should have been one of the proudest moments of Leslie's life. Instead, it felt bittersweet.
She smiled for the mayor, and smiled and waved for the small crowd, and gave hugs and said thanks. Yet, the whole time, in the back of her mind lingered the feeling that she hadn't really earned this. Her park hadn't come about because she worked hard, raised money, cut through red tape and swayed hearts. Rather, it came because she was shot defending her boyfriend, the voice of public opinion declared her a hero, and Sweetums decided it would be good press to pay for a park honor the new local "heroes." And somehow the town's largest employer had managed to pull the whole thing together in just a few weeks-it seemed patently unfair.
So yes, Leslie had gotten what she wanted. But at what cost?
After the ceremony, as the crowd dispersed, Leslie caught sight of an unexpected face. It was the city manager, Paul.
She walked up to him, smiling. "Hey! It's so good to see you back on your feet. How are you feeling?"
"I've been better." He shrugged. "But it could be worse-I could be dead of a heart attack."
"Good point. So what brings you out to our little ceremony today?" she asked.
"I was curious to see how you were doing. You look good. But I've gone through my own surgery lately, so that gives me a perspective most of these people don't have." Paul gestured around at the crowd. "Is there much pain anymore?"
He was the only person other than Ann who'd ever asked her that. Leslie's eyes drifted downward. "A little. But it's getting better every week. It still hurts when I try to lift heavy things."
"So stop lifting heavy things," said Paul with a smile.
"Exactly. But, uh, I don't use pain meds. And I don't even want them anymore. I can deal with it."
He nodded slowly. "That's good. And what about the other kind of pain?" he asked, tapping his temple. "Do you have someone to talk to?"
Leslie had never known Paul very well, and it left a lump in her throat to hear him talk with som much understanding. "I do. I've seen a therapist a couple of times. It's good, I think."
"Good. Good." Paul nodded again. "I've gotta say-when I first heard the news, I was mad as hell at those boys for lying to me. But the more I thought about it, the more my feelings changed. The way I see it, they were just out trying to make a living like the rest of us when they came across evidence of some pretty scary stuff. And instead of running away like most folks would, they stood up for what was right, regardless of the personal consequences. And when they got sent here, they could have laid low and crunched the numbers and then headed on their way, but instead they made friends, and got involved, and starting really caring about Pawnee." He pursed his lips and sighed. "It's nothing if not remarkable. Truly remarkable."
Leslie felt her face getting warm, and she smiled. "I agree."
"Well," Paul continued, "I'll be coming back to work soon. If your boy, Ben, decides to come back to Pawnee after the trial, let me know. I'll make sure there's a job waiting for him when he gets here."
Leslie stammered out her thanks, and watched in awe as Paul walked away. He was the first person since to Andy to see things exactly how she did. It felt good to know that she had more allies out there than she'd realized.
If only there was a way to let Ben know how many people felt this way about him. To let him know just how amazing he truly was. A way to help him right now, instead of later.
Her brain started spinning with ideas.
By the time she finished her post-ceremony brunch with Ann, she had a plan.
~ ~ ~
Doreen Adams sat in her kitchen, finishing lunch, when her phone rang. The ID said it was her best friend, Autumn, so she answered (she never answered without recognizing the ID, these days).
"Dorrie-I'm on my way over. I have someone with me who wanted to meet you, but she noticed the police surveillance car outside your house and worried that she wouldn't be welcome, since she's a stranger."
"If she's a stranger, what makes you think I'll want to meet her?"
"Because she's the one who sent you that packet of papers from Ben. She's the woman from Indiana."
Doreen sucked in a quick breath. Getting that packet of papers-seeing just how much Ben was thinking of her-had meant the world. "I'll meet you at the door."
She hung up and grabbed her crutches. She hated that she still had to walk with the damn things, but at least it was a step up from the wheelchair.
She stood at the window by her front door and watched as Autumn and a petite blonde woman made their way up her front walk. Doreen pulled the door open when they arrived, and Autumn ushered the blonde inside.
"I'm sorry to surprise you like this," said the strange woman. "I just-I really wanted to come meet you. My name is Leslie. Leslie Knope, from Pawnee, Indiana."
Doreen nodded, struggling to find the right words for her unexpected visitor. "I-I read about you on the news. I know what you did for my son." Tears started welling in her eyes. "I don't know how to thank you . . ."
Leslie shook her head. "I didn't come here for thanks. I came here because I want to be a part of your son's life, but I can't. So I thought I'd see if maybe I could be a part of yours, instead."
Doreen took a deep breath and asked the question that had been on her mind ever since she saw the news about Ben's time in Indiana. "Leslie-are you in love with my son?"
"Yes. I am." Leslie's eyes sparkled with emotion.
"Come sit down. I think that you and I have a lot to talk about."
~ ~ ~
George Everson twitched his ankle. He still hadn't gotten used to the weight of the tracking device they'd fastened around his ankle as a condition of his bail after being charged with murder and attempted murder, following the Indiana incident. They'd managed to turn his own home into a prison.
The trial was less than a week away, and three of his lawyers sat in front of him in his home office. As usual, he didn't like what they had to say.
"They're folding like a house of cards," said one of them. "All of our defense witnesses are turning against you. Cutting deals to save their own skins. After these new charges, we've got almost no one left."
"We still have Yeager," said Everson.
Another of the lawyers coughed uncomfortably, and the first spoke again. "Actually, Yeager was taken into police custody last night. That's why we're here. We have it on good authority that even as we speak, he's cutting a deal. Working out a lenient plea in exchange for implicating you in the murder-for-hire plot. It's not good. If they bring you to trial on the murder-for-hire charges, you could face the death penalty."
Everson's eyes went a little wider. Yeager had turned against him? Even Yeager? Was there no such thing as loyalty left on earth anymore?
"Here's what we propose," said another lawyer, "if you plead guilty to all the fraud charges, right now, and promise to testify that Yeager was actually the mastermind behind the murder-for-hire plot, then the government is willing to grant you immunity from all the murder charges. You'll only serve seven to ten years in a minimum security facility. It'll be easy time."
"No time is easy time for a man of seventy-two," said Everson, turning over their offer in his head. God, damn it.
The first lawyer shook his head. "This is the best offer you're going to get."
"They'll seize my company."
"They'll seize your company whether you plead guilty or not," said the second lawyer, grimly.
Everson shook his head. "I need a few hours to think about it. Come back at three. I'll have your answer then." He dismissed the lawyers, and they left with sour looks on their faces.
A man was no man without his business. And a fink was no man at all. Everson lived by certain principles, and he wasn't going to turn his back on them. Not now. Not ever.
He sat at his desk and composed short letters to his three daughters, even to the one who turned her back on him years ago. Then he opened his desk drawer and stood up.
A man lived by a code, and a man died by a code. Everson intended to die on his feet.
He reached into his drawer and pulled out the revolver that lay inside.
Several rooms away, Everson's valet was organizing the humidor when he heard the shot ring out. By the time he made it to the office, it was far too late.
TBC
Chapter 23 here
Fandom: Parks and Recreation
Characters/Ships: Ben/Leslie, Chris/Ann, Andy/April, Ben/Pawnee, ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 10,000
Summary: When corporate whistleblowers Ben Adams and Chris Robinson barely escape an attempt on their lives, they gladly accept the protection of the Federal Witness Protection program. What they don't count on is being sent to a city that feels more like something out of a movie or a sitcom than real life: Pawnee Indiana. An AU starting in "Master Plan."
Author's Notes: We're in the home stretch. Thanks so much for sticking with this story for so long. I appreciate everyone who is reading and commenting more than you can know. And much thanks is due to saucydiva for her beta reading. She keeps me sharp. Thanks! Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21
As Leslie began to wake up, her head spun with thoughts of grant proposals that were due soon and lists of tasks to accomplish before launching the spring youth sports season when she noticed a persistent ache in her side.
Did I eat some bad shrimp last night? Or run into a table? Or-?
She opened her eyes, gasping, as she remembered with sudden clarity the true source of her ache.
"Leslie-sweetie-are you alright? Do you need any more pain medication?" Her mother leaped up from a chair beside her hospital bed and hurried to her side.
Leslie blinked in the dim light of the various monitors and displays, with just a hint of dawn light creeping in around the blinds. "Mom? When did you get here?" Her voice came out in a low croak.
Her mom took her hand and looked down at her with a strained smile. "I've been here all night, but you were pretty out of it when I got here. I'm not surprised you forgot. And Ann is here, too. She's just down the hall getting us some coffee."
Leslie felt her muscles relax a little. Good. She needed Ann, right now. But first she needed to clear a few things up. She swallowed, and winced at her throat feeling as dry as it had ever been.
"Was-was anyone else hurt?"
Her mom's jaw was tight. She shook her head. "None of your friends were hurt."
Leslie sighed and relaxed even more. She could bear the pain just fine, as long as no one else was hurt. "Good. Good." Her side ached when she took a deep breath, and a new fear pricked her mind. Wincing, she looked up at her mom. "Am I going to be all right?"
Her mom held her hand a little tighter, and Leslie saw the gleam of moisture standing in her mother's eyes. Marlene nodded. "You're going to be okay. The doctor can explain better than I can, but yes-you'll bounce back from this."
Leslie swallowed hard and nodded, tears welling in her own eyes. She wanted to ask about Ben-where was he? Why wasn't he here with her? But in her heart she already knew the answer. The marshals had come, and he was gone.
I couldn't even say goodbye.
Ann stepped into the room, each of her hands clutching a coffee cup. Her mouth flew open when she saw Leslie, and she rushed to the bed, setting the cups on the nearest table.
"Oh my god, Leslie! I thought we'd lose you!" Tears stood in her bloodshot eyes, and her hair frizzled out around a messy ponytail.
Leslie smiled as well as she could through the pain. "I'm still here."
Ann's concerned expression broke into a smile and she let out a few soft laughs. "Thank god." Then her face hardened. "But if I ever see Ben again, I swear, I'll wring his neck until his face turns blue for getting you shot!"
Leslie gasped and the pain in her side flared again. She blinked back a few tears and tried to focus on breathing without hurting herself. She'd explain everything to Ann later. Ann would understand-none of this was Ben's fault. She'd get it. Wouldn't she?
"I think she needs more pain medication. Let me go get the doctor," said Ann, bustling back out.
A nurse followed Ann back in soon after to give Leslie another dose of pain meds that not only reduced her pain but calmed her emotional turmoil, at least a little. By the time the doctor arrived she was feeling pleasantly floaty, and couldn't completely grasp everything he said, but she got the gist of it.
Serious blood loss. Two fractured ribs. A lacerated liver. But very lucky.
"De-what?" Leslie asked, stopping the doctor as he rambled on about the bullet.
"Deformed. The bullet was already deformed when it hit you. It must have passed through an obstacle before reaching you."
Leslie blinked a few times, trying to focus. "I was behind a tree. A big, beautiful tree."
"Well," said the doctor, "that tree probably saved your life. If the bullet hadn't been deformed and slowed by passing through the tree first, it would have caused a great deal more damage. You probably would have bled out at the scene. But thanks to that tree we'll have you out of here in less than 72 hours, and back to work in less than two weeks."
Squinting at the spots floating in front of her eyes, Leslie tilted her head a little, trying to make sense of it all. "Really?"
The doctor nodded. "Really."
"Wow." Back to work in less than two weeks. That was a small price to pay for keeping him safe. Them safe. Everyone safe. Whatever. Leslie shook her head a little to clear the spots from her vision and said the first thing that popped into her mind. "I really love that tree. All trees. Trees are the best."
The doctor chuckled. "I can understand the sentiment."
He rambled on about medications and expectations and therapies for a few more minutes, while Leslie found it increasingly difficult to focus her eyes. And ears. And mind.
Ann stepped in. "Doctor, I think she's had enough for now. Maybe we should let her go back to sleep."
"Of course." The doctor nodded.
After he left, Ann and Marlene stood by Leslie, smiling down at her.
"We'll let you sleep some more, sweetheart," said Marlene, a weary smile on her face. "The more you sleep, the faster you'll heal."
"Is that really true?" Leslie asked.
Marlene raised her eyebrows and looked at Ann. Ann shrugged. "I have no idea. But let's pretend it is, for now. Okay?"
"Okay," whispered Leslie. Would the drugs make it so that she didn't dream? She hoped so. She couldn't take any bad dreams right now. "Will you be here when I wake up?" She really didn't want to be alone with her thoughts. Not yet.
"Of course we will," said Ann. "Always."
Leslie had no trouble believing her.
~ ~ ~
The rest of the day passed in a drug induced haze. Leslie didn't grasp much of what happened in her brief periods of wakefulness, other than being surrounded by reassuring nurses, reassuring doctors, a reassuring mother, and a reassuring Ann.
The next morning, when she once more woke with an ache in her side, she gritted her teeth and told the nurse she could handle it.
She'd had her time to rest. Now it was time to wake up and start facing the reality of her altered life, no matter how painful it might be.
She vaguely remembered sending Ann and her mom home the previous night so that they could sleep, so the first thing she did was get her hands on the phone in her room to call Ann and ask for her to bring a bag of clothes and toiletries back with her. Next, she called Ron.
"It's good to hear from you," he said with a voice that sounded rough with emotion, though she knew he'd deny it if she called him on it.
"How are April and Andy?" she asked. "I've been worried about them."
"They're a little rattled, but they're holding up alright."
Leslie nodded in relief. "Good. And . . . how are you?" She bit her bottom lip and held her breath, letting the question hang there through a long silence.
"I'm fine," Ron finally responded. "You're the one I've been worried about."
"Can you come see me?" Leslie swallowed hard.
"I'll be there as soon as I can. I would've come sooner, but the nurse insisted we'd wear you out."
"Come," said Leslie, her voice shaking. "Tell everyone else to come, too. I want to see everyone I care about. Please."
"Leslie-are you . . .?"
"I'm okay. I'll be okay. I just want to see my friends."
"I'll spread the word. See you soon."
Leslie hung up and sank back into her pillows, aching and exhausted. The next few weeks wouldn't be easy, but at least she had her friends. Who did Ben have? She wasn't even sure if they'd still keep him and Chris together. He could be out there, all alone.
She closed her eyes and tried not to think about it. The pain helped. She needed the pain to distract her.
A nurse arrived with breakfast, and Ann showed up ten minutes later with a smile on her face. "You're eating! That's great!"
"When you're hungry enough, anything can taste good," said Leslie around a bite of the hospital pancakes. Not as good as Ann's, but for now they would do.
She quickly finished her food. She needed a few minutes of time with Ann to clear the air about things. Leslie pushed aside her tray. "So . . . I guess there are few things we need to talk about."
Ann squeezed her lips together and nodded.
"Where do you want to start?" asked Leslie.
Ann took a deep breath. "Did you know about the witness protection thing when you started dating him? Or was he still lying to you?"
Leslie didn't like the note of suspicion in Ann's voice, but she understood why it was there. "I didn't know about it the first time we slept together, after his mom was hurt. Which was real, by the way. She really was in an accident. He told me the truth the week after he came back, right before we got together for real. I knew exactly what I was getting into."
"Really?" Ann still looked skeptical.
"Really."
"Okay."
Now for the hard part. "I'm sorry I lied to you. I didn't want to, but the more people in on the secret, the more dangerous things could get," said Leslie.
"Clearly," Ann replied softly.
That one stung a little. It certainly wasn't the first time Leslie had wondered if all this was her fault. If she hadn't asked him to stay-if she hadn't pushed him into so much risky behavior-maybe none of this would have happened. "I'm really, really sorry. I owe you about a million apologies. I know I can trust you. I should have told you the truth. And you deserved to know about Chris. I should have said something. I should have brought you into the circle of trust. I-"
"Leslie, no," Ann interrupted. "You didn't-"
At that moment the door burst open and her mother walked in carrying a bouquet of cake pops. "Look who I found on the way up," she said with a smile as Andy, April, Tom, Donna and Ron all bustled in and crowded around Leslie, filling the air with their enthusiastic greetings.
Leslie was so happy to see them all that it was enough to pull her out of the pain of her discussion with Ann. After giving everyone the best one-armed hugs she could muster, she beamed at them while they all listed the ways they'd been stepping up to help out at the office in her absence.
"Thank you guys. This is just wonderful. I love you all so much." Leslie couldn't stop the tears from welling in her eyes. She truly did work with the most wonderful people on earth.
Andy looked at her with eyes that looked just as moist as hers felt. "I thought this whole hitman chase thing was really exciting when we first started. But now I just feel like an idiot. They could have killed some of my best friends-or even my wife-and I was acting like it was Disneyland or something. I'm so sorry Leslie." April leaned against him and took his hand.
Leslie swallowed her tears and reached out to rest her hand on Andy's arm. "No. You have nothing to be sorry for."
Andy shook his head. "I don't know."
"No, Andy. You guys were amazing. Really."
Donna and Ann piped in with words of agreement, but Andy looked unconvinced.
"I was scared," said a voice so soft and timid that it took Leslie a few seconds to realize that it was April. She wouldn't meet Leslie's eyes when she spoke again and she huddled against Andy as if she wanted to hide. "I was so scared that they'd do something to Andy, or to me. All I could think was that I was too young for it be over. I have too much left to do. And then when we were safe at the police station I started feeling so guilty for not doing more to stop them, because they were still out there after you and Ben and Chris, and I hadn't done enough."
Leslie nearly lost it when April wiped her eyes. She'd never seen April care this much about anything other than Andy.
"You shouldn't be here," said April, shaking her head. "I'm so mad at Ben for getting you into this. He never should have gotten involved with you. He should have known better."
"He knew the risks," broke in Ron's gruff voice from where he stood near the door. "If he really cared about you he would have stayed away to keep you safe. He was reckless and selfish." He folded his arms across his chest and nodded decisively.
Leslie could hardly breathe.
Marlene, standing beside the bed, shook her head. "I know how crazy you are about him, honey, but I have to agree. What kind of man knowingly puts someone he cares about in danger?"
"Seriously," said Tom, "what was the guy thinking?"
"He should have left before putting you in this position," concluded Ron.
"Stop it! Just-stop it!" Leslie fiercely wiped away the tears rolled down her cheeks. "I don’t want to hear one more word. Okay? He was ready to leave before Thanksgiving. He told me that he would leave. That he thought it would be safest and best if he left. And I told him to stay. Okay? I made that choice. It wasn't him being selfish and reckless-it was me. I knew it wasn't safe, but I didn't care. I wanted him to stay. I thought the risk was worth it. Because I love him." Her voice shook as she admitted it out loud for the first time. "I love him. I won't stand for hearing any of you blaming any of this on him ever again. Got it?"
Everyone shuffled their feet and nodded.
"I don't get why everyone is so mad at Ben," said Andy, still squeezing April's hand. "I mean, April told me all about the trial thing he and Chris are a part of, and they're like, heroes. They're trying to get justice for the families of people who died of cancer. That's pretty awesome. And if I was a hero on the run and the girl I loved asked me to stay a little longer, I'd probably do it." He shrugged. "I mean, heroes deserve the chance to be happy, too, don't they? Otherwise they'd forget why they were trying to be heroes in the first place."
Leslie's shoulders shook with emotion as she quietly cried, and she didn't even care how much it made her ribs hurt. "That was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard," she managed to say after a moment. "Thank you."
"Andy's right," said Ann as she patted Leslie's leg reassuringly. "Ben and Chris are heroes."
"Heroes can still be reckless and foolish," grumbled Ron, scowling at Ann.
Ann scowled right back. "Yes, they can. And maybe Ben and Chris were a little reckless and foolish. And it was hard finding out that they'd been lying to us this whole time, but they were hiding the truth for a good reason. And even though it drew more public attention to them, they went out of their way to help us all, and to help the community, and to be good friends to all of us. They didn't have to do any of that, but they did. Because they're good men. That's who they are, and that's why they gave up their whole lives for this trial. So what if they made a few mistakes? They're still good people. We shouldn't be mad at Ben. We should be mad at George Everson and his hitmen. They're the ones responsible for this."
Ron nodded his assent, and several of Leslie's other friends added their words of agreement.
Leslie beamed through her tears. Ann always knew just what to say. Now that Ann understood how Leslie felt, everything else would work out. Somehow.
After a moment, Ann managed to turn the conversation back around to more ways for everyone to help out while Leslie recovered. Soon they said their good-byes. On her way out, Donna paused, "Jerry didn't come because he was afraid you wouldn't want him on account of-well-you know."
Leslie knit her brows. "No, I don't know."
Donna's lips froze in a startle "O," and Ron was the one to break the silence.
"Jerry was the one who told the hitmen we were at Slippery Elm cabin. Apparently, they convinced him that they were old friends of Ben." Ron scowled.
"Oh. My." Leslie's mind spun. She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry.
"He feels terrible," said Donna. "Which he should. But, uh, he wanted me to tell you how sorry he is. He feels responsible for everything. Which he kind of is, but it was just Jerry being Jerry. He didn't mean for anything bad to happen."
Leslie swallowed and nodded. "God. Yes. He didn't. But-god. I don't even know what to say."
Donna bobbed her head. "Yeah. None of us know what to say, either."
"Don't be too hard on him," said Leslie. "It's not his fault. Not really. He was just the final link in a long chain of questionable choices." She sighed. Holding a grudge against Jerry for being stupid would be just as pointless as holding a grudge against a dog for eating out of the trash. They just couldn't help themselves. "Tell him I forgive him."
Donna wore a tight smile. "I'll tell him."
Soon only Ron, Ann and Marlene were left.
Leslie was exhausted from the morning of hard conversations, but there were a few more details that she needed cleared up before she would let herself sleep again. "Ron-so. I guess the marshals swept Ben and Chris away as soon as they got to them, right?"
"Essentially. Yes."
Well, it was what she'd been assuming, anyway. No need for more details that Ron seemed uninterested in sharing. "I don't suppose you have any idea where they are, or what happened to them?"
"No. I do know that Agent Burdette is interested in debriefing you once you're feeling a little better. She took my criticisms well and handled my debriefing efficiently. I'm sure she'll do the same with you. She seems a good sort of law officer. One I can respect."
Huh. That was a little more detail on the marshal than Leslie expected. She must have made a really good impression on Ron. Leslie nodded and then launched into her second, more difficult question. "What happened to the guy? The one who. . . you know. The guy."
Ron stared at her blankly for a moment before his eyes brightened. "The one who shot you?"
Leslie coughed a little and nodded. "Yeah. Him. What happened to him?"
"Ben took him down with two shots to center mass, and I ensured he'd be unable to return fire by knocking him unconscious with a few blows to the cranium."
"Oh." Leslie's eyes went wide. "My god. Ben shot him? Is he-dead?"
Ron sighed. "From what I understand, he's in a coma, but not expected to recover."
"Oh my god." Leslie's heart ached. She'd done this. She'd put Ron and Ben in the position to have no choice but to use deadly force. Ron could probably deal with it, but Ben . . . even when things were at their best, he'd still had moments where he'd freeze up, and she'd see the panic and trauma in his eyes, blocking out the rest of the man she loved. But now-after the chase, and the fight, and seeing her hurt, and then this. She closed her eyes. Though she was the one who got shot, she felt certain that Ben would take far longer to heal.
If only I could have gone with him. At least he wouldn't have to be alone. She shook her head. No. That had never been an option. Not really.
She tried to steady her nerves and looked back up at Ron. "Are you handling it okay?"
"Yes." Ron gave a short nod. "It doesn't bother me. He was human scum, and I'd do the same thing a dozen times over if it meant protecting you."
Leslie's throat closed up and she shook her head. "Did everyone make a pact to get me to cry as much as possible today? Because you're doing a really good job of it."
A little while later, after Ron had left and her mom had stepped out to make some phone calls, Leslie turned to Ann to ask the final question that was troubling her. "How are you really feeling about the whole Chris thing? Really?"
Ann sighed and leaned back in her chair. "I have to admit that this whole thing has reopened some old wounds. Over the holidays, Chris and I had some really good talks and came to a new understanding. I think we were starting to be friends. But knowing what I know now I'm angry all over again for the way he handled our relationship. He never should have tried for a real rebound relationship. If he was that desperate for company he should have settled for a few one-night stands. There's no shortage of women in town that would have been happy to oblige."
Leslie nodded, her lips tight.
"But even though I'm mad," said Ann, "knowing the truth answers a lot of questions. I feel like I understand him a lot better now than I ever did when we were together. And I meant what I said. I really do think that he and Ben are good men. Heroes, even. But they have made some mistakes along the way, and our relationship was one of Chris's mistakes. That hurts."
"I'm so sorry," said Leslie.
Ann shook her head and smiled. "This is the last thing you should be worried about right now. I'll deal with it. I'll be fine. I promise."
"I need someone else to worry about. I hate having to think about myself all the time."
"I know." Ann took Leslie's hand again. "That's why we all love you so much."
Leslie sighed and smiled. "You still think I was stupid for asking Ben to stay, don't you?"
Ann shrugged and smiled. "A little. I mean-look where you are! But if I was in your position and had someone that I cared about as much as you and Ben obviously care about each other, I probably would have been a little stupid, too."
"Thank you for everything." Leslie squeezed her friend's hand. She didn't know what she'd have done without Ann.
"Hey, that's what best friends are for, right?"
Truer words had never been spoken.
A short while later, after everyone left to let Leslie take a nap, her thoughts of Ben, far away and in pain, kept her awake.
~ ~ ~
Late in the afternoon of her last day in the hospital, the visitor Leslie has been both anticipating and dreading finally arrived. Agent Burdette turned out to be a slender brunette who looked a few years older than Leslie.
She knocked politely before stepping into Leslie's room, and Leslie immediately knew who she was. There was no mistaking her for anyone else.
Leslie sat up in her hospital bed, wishing she'd put on some of the clothes Ann brought her instead of staying in her hospital gown, and steeled herself. In the days since her injury she hadn't talked about the events leading up to it with anyone. But there was no avoiding it, now.
Tonya had a firm but soothing voice that helped put Leslie at ease, and she started off with a few questions about Leslie's health and her plans for rehab before asking, "So, I know this is difficult, but I need to get your version of what happened on Wednesday. Could you tell me exactly how you first became aware of a threat to the safety of your friends, Ben and Chris?"
Telling the story was easier than Leslie had expected. She followed Tonya's lead and tried to stay as calm and clinical about it as possible, avoiding all the messy emotional overtones that had filled that horrible afternoon. Tonya occasionally asked a few questions to give the conversation more direction and structure, but mostly she listened.
By the time she finished the story with her arrival at the hospital, Leslie actually felt strangely relieved to have the whole ordeal out there and off her chest. Maybe it would stop haunting her dreams, now that it was on a tape recording as part of an official report. Making things official had always been comforting to Leslie.
"Thank you for being so clear and candid," said Tonya. "I do have a few more questions. First, when did you and my witness become romantically involved?"
Leslie raised her eyebrows. "What do you need to know that for?"
"Mostly for the sake of improving my performance as an agent in future assignments," replied Tonya. "While most witnesses who have been permanently relocated eventually start new lives, including romantic involvements, we discourage witnesses in short-term relocations from engaging in those types of relationships. We need to know what we can do to better recognize the warning signs that our witnesses are engaging in risky behavior that might require our intervention."
"So, from your professional perspective, that's what I am? That's what our relationship was? Risky behavior that you want to discourage?" Leslie frowned. She'd been blaming herself enough for the past few days. Having someone in an official capacity jump on to start blaming her, too, was a little more than Leslie could take.
"I'm sorry," said Tonya. "But from where I'm standing that's the only way to look at it. My job is to protect my witnesses, and people on short-term relocations getting caught up in serious romances almost always leads to trouble. I don't mean to belittle your feelings-just-if there's any insight you could share that would help me do my job better in the future, I'd appreciate it."
Leslie gritted her teeth before responding. "There's nothing I can say to help you. Were we a little stupid at times? Probably. But I can't see our relationship as a mistake. You can't help who you fall in love with, or when, no matter how bad the timing might be. People like Ben and Chris are heroes. They're sacrificing their lives for the cause of justice. Don't they deserve a little happiness in return?" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can say to help you."
Tonya's lips were a tight line as she nodded. "Fine. I understand why you feel that way. But you need to understand that every witness costs the government tens of thousands of dollars, and events like what happened to you cost even more. It's our job to make sure things like this don't happen again. I know you might not feel like sharing today, but in a few weeks, when you're ready, I really need you to write up a history of your relationship along with any potentially risky behaviors that you witnessed Ben or Chris engaging in, and email it to me. This information is important. It can help us save both money and lives. Do you understand?"
Leslie sucked on her bottom lip and nodded. "I do. I'll-try."
Tonya nodded. "Good. Thank you for your help, Ms. Knope. And I'm sorry we're ending on a sour note. I like you. And I think that what you did this week was very brave." She stood up. "For the record, I agree with you. Ben and Chris are heroes. My niece has cancer. And if someone like Everson stood in the way of her getting her treatments I'd-well, it wouldn't be pretty."
A knot turned in Leslie's gut. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't . . ." She looked up into the Tonya's eyes. "How is she? Your niece?"
Tonya smiled with a bittersweet look in her eyes. "She's responding well to treatment. We're hopeful. Thank you." She reached inside her pad-folio and pulled out an envelope. "Look-this is a pretty big breach of protocol, but-before we transported Ben out of state, he wrote a letter for you. I had to read it to make sure there was no sensitive information. I'm sorry."
Leslie's hand shook a little as she took the envelope and clutched it to her chest. She looked back up at Tonya. "I'm sorry for being difficult. This means a lot. Thank you."
"It's okay. I understand." Tonya smiled at her and nodded before stepping quietly out of the room.
Leslie took a few deep breaths before opening the envelope and sliding out the single sheet of lined yellow paper, ripped from a legal pad.
"Leslie," it read, "I can't even begin to express the depth of my sorrow and regret over what happened to you. I wanted to stay and talk to you-to apologize in person and to make sure you'll be okay. But they wouldn't let me. That's the story of my life the past year and a half.
"I never should have allowed this to happen. Putting you and Ron and our other friends in danger like this is inexcusable. It was selfish and naïve of me to think that we'd be safe. I wanted to be with you so badly that I was in denial about the seriousness of the risks. And you're the one who paid for my poor judgment.
"I am so, so sorry. What happened to you because of me-what I did to you-is unforgiveable. I won't blame you if you never want to see me again after this. I've done nothing but make your life more complicated and difficult. I should never have let myself get so caught up in life in Pawnee. I never should have let myself get involved with you.
"But that same selfish part of me that made those choices in the first place is still glad that it did. You are truly one of the most amazing, gifted, inspirational people I've ever met. You have an extraordinary future ahead of you.
"But I almost cost you that future. I see now that you're better off without me. I want you to forget me. Don't waste your time waiting for me. Go live your life and follow all those amazing dreams that mean so much to you. I can't be a part of that. It's for the best that I'm gone. With me out of the way, you can finally go be everything that you're meant to be. Everything that you deserve to be. Go live your life, and find your happiness.
"I'll always treasure what we had. Thank you.
"Ben."
Tears flowed down Leslie's cheeks and her shoulders shook with emotion, flaring the pain in her side. It was everything she'd been afraid of. He blamed himself for everything. He took responsibility for everything. How would he ever bounce back from this?
He needed to know that she didn't blame him. He needed to know how much she still loved him. But she had no way to tell him.
~ ~ ~
Leslie thought she was prepared for the media onslaught when she left the hospital. In the local news they'd been lionizing Ben and Chris as Robin Hood style heroes fighting the rich to help the poor, and she and Ron were being portrayed as some kind of action heroes coming to their rescue. She'd found it amusing at first, as long as the media was barred from her hospital room. But when Ann rolled her wheelchair out the hospital doors only to find a crowd of flashing cameras and waving microphones waiting for them, she felt like she was drowning.
She managed to stammer out a few short statements about serving her country and helping her friends with a proud heart before Ann and her mother cleared a path to the waiting car and got her inside.
Tonya had left instructions not to give any specific comments regarding Ben and Chris's involvement in the case, but that didn't stop the media from making dozens of interview requests and trying to ambush her every time she left her house for the next week.
Leslie had no desire whatsoever to answer loaded question after loaded question regarding the nature of her romance with Ben. She still cried at least once a day thinking about that letter. Or flipping through the Ben-themed scrapbook she'd started making before Christmas. Or reading the letter again (even though Ann sternly warned her to stop reading it or she'd make herself crazy). The last thing she wanted was to break down on television and start ranting about her boyfriend wasting away from PTSD, with no one there to help him.
Ron had escaped the media by pleading out on account of being too busy. The mayor had roped him into being one prong of the three-department-head team that was filling in for Paul for the rest of his recovery from surgery, now that Ben and Chris were gone.
Leslie finally agreed to two interviews: one with Perd, and one with Shauna Malwae-Tweep, on the condition that all questions were pre-approved. Joan Callamezzo kept hassling her, but there was no way Leslie would trust Joan to stick to the script. Leslie managed to hold herself together during the interviews, and actually came across as confident and strong, in spite of still feeling like a mess on the inside.
After the interviews the media requests began to trail off, and Leslie focused on getting ready to go back to work. Being trapped in her home alone all day with nothing but her thoughts was killing her. If she could get her hands on some new projects to tackle, she'd be okay.
On her first day back to the office, she stepped into the Parks Department to find it festooned with streamers, balloons, and flower arrangements alongside a J.J.'s-catered breakfast buffet and huge "Welcome Back Leslie!" banner.
She broke down in tears. Again. But once she'd calmed down, she enjoyed two huge helpings of waffles.
Being back at work certainly helped. But now every day was marred by the small ache in her side, and the even bigger ache in her heart.
~ ~ ~
Though it was past ten in the morning when Chris got back to the apartment from his jog and errands, it looked as if Ben was still in bed. Chris sighed, though he'd expected as much.
It had been pretty much the same for the nearly four weeks that they'd been in Tucson, Arizona. Neither of them had jobs-their cover was as out-of-work cousins, though Chris had rarely needed to use it. He'd only had a few brief conversations with the neighbors, and his chats with patrons or employees of local establishments were generally brief. Chris didn't much care for the isolation-it made him antsy and frustrated. However, it was already February. The trial was coming up quickly. He could last a few more weeks.
Every day he would get up, enjoy a morning run in the pleasantly warm weather, drop in at the natural foods market for a green smoothie and a gluten free muffin, and then run back to the apartment to find Ben still in bed.
Ben spent approximately half of every twenty-four hour cycle in bed, and much of the other half in long baths or lying on the couch staring at the cracks in the ceiling of their low-rent apartment. He'd given up on shaving, only ate when Chris prodded him, and almost never left the apartment. Chris had literally never seen anyone in such a deep depression. He tried not to spend too many hours away from the apartment at a time, because he genuinely feared that he'd return to find that Ben had done serious harm to himself.
When Chris voiced his fears to their new pair of federal marshals two weeks earlier, they'd turned up the next day with a bottle of Zoloft in hand and instructions for Chris to make sure Ben took them. Chris had done his duty, but Ben showed little improvement, so far.
Chris understood his friend's pain. But they had a difficult task coming up soon. Their testimony at the trial had the potential to change their lives for the better and end this exile from society. Ben needed to pull himself together.
Chris pulled a packet of papers out of his backpack. He'd broken some of the rules of their relocation today, but it was for a worthy cause.
He knocked on Ben's bedroom door, and then let himself in.
As he'd expected, Ben was still sprawled listlessly on his bed, staring at the shadows on his wall.
Without a word, Chris strode over to the window and opened Ben's blinds, letting in the bright sunlight.
Ben blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Time for breakfast?" he mumbled.
"Soon. I took a little extra time on my run this morning to stop by the library and get on the internet."
Ben frowned. "We're not supposed to be online. At all."
Chris nodded. "I know. But there were some things I needed to look up. And I'm glad I did. These are for you." He held out the stack of papers he'd printed out for fifteen cents apiece at the library. A worthy price to pay for what he hoped would be the beginning of his friend's recovery.
Ben furrowed his brow as he quickly flipped through the stack of papers. "These are news articles from Pawnee."
"Yes. They are. Go ahead and read them while I go make you some eggs."
If this didn't start to help, Chris had no idea what to try next.
~ ~ ~
Ben leaned against his headboard and started reading through the stack of articles for a third time.
The fogginess that had taken up what he thought was permanent residence in his head was beginning to clear, but he still didn't feel sharp enough to know exactly what he made of the new information being presented to him.
He was ready to outright dismiss the articles touting him as some sort of noble hero. That was obviously media-spin bullshit. If they knew the truth . . . He shook his head. No one really knew the truth of his selfishness. No one but him.
He flipped back to the Pawnee Journal interview with Leslie. There was a picture of her, smiling. Whole. Almost like she'd never been hurt at all.
But I know better. Ben traced the outline of her face with his fingertip. I saw her fall. I saw a pool of her blood burning its way through the snow. He still saw it almost every time he closed his eyes. He'd lie awake half of every night willing his eyes to stay open so he didn't have to face the sight of Leslie's life spilling out of her again and again and again.
Seeing her like this-reading her words, as positive and optimistic as ever-seemed more like a dream than reality. But here it was. In his hands.
She was okay. She was healing. She was going to be fine.
He let his eyes follow the words of the article until he found the paragraph that had stopped him in his tracks the first time he read it.
"When asked about her personal relationship with Ben Adams-rumored to be a passionate romance-Knope didn't go into detail, but her answer was telling. 'Ben and I shared a very special, very meaningful friendship. I care about him very much, and when he's completed his service for the federal justice system, I very much hope that we can see each other again. It would mean a lot to me to have him in my life again.'"
Ben swallowed hard and closed his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to believe that she'd really want to see him again after everything he put her through.
He'd said good-bye. He'd told her to move on. She had to see how much better off she was without him, right?
It didn't make any sense.
I can't let myself believe that there's still hope for us. I can't.
There was a short knock on his doorframe, and Ben looked up to see Chris standing there with a plate of eggs and toast. "How are you doing?" He looked apprehensive.
Ben cleared his throat and nodded. "I'm good. It's good. I'm good. I. . . I am good." He set the stack of papers down on the bed as Chris approached.
"So you're not too rattled by all this?" Chris gestured at the papers.
"No. No." Ben shook his head, searching for some comment that he was actually willing to share with Chris. "Um-so-he died, I guess."
Chris sat on the edge of the bed, still holding the plate. "The man you shot. Yes. Are you . . . okay?"
Ben was the farthest thing from okay about nearly all of this mess. Except for this. Out of the whole mess, this was the one thing that he felt good about. "I am. This says that the two guys are probably the same ones who killed the prosecutor at the courthouse, and the ones who sabotaged my mom's car. I'm glad he's dead. I'm glad that I was the one who killed him. Does that make me a bad person?"
Chris shook his head. "No. I think it just makes you human."
Ben nodded, and looked at the plate. "I think maybe I feel like eating in the kitchen today."
Chris smiled. "Good. That's good."
Maybe it was. Maybe it was time to let things be good, again.
~ ~ ~
"I don't know how to do this," said Leslie, squirming in the cozy armchair that sat in the office of Dr. Richard Nygard, Pawnee's preeminent therapist.
He nodded. A fuzzy stripe of salt and pepper hair circled the back of his head below his bald pate, and he looked at her over the top of the glasses perched on the end of his nose. "This is one of those things that you have to learn by doing."
Leslie tapped her fingers on her thighs. "I'm not even sure why I'm here. My friend Ann recommended you, and then when I mentioned it to my mom she helped Ann gang up on me to make an appointment."
"I understand their concern. You've been through some traumatic experiences, and the loss of someone very important to you. Those sorts of transitions can be difficult for anyone, and sometimes it helps to have a safe place to talk, without fear of judgment. Especially when you're in the public eye."
Leslie hadn't told him any that. She gave him an arch look. "I take it you follow the local news?"
He nodded. "I do."
She sighed. "So, where do I start? With the shooting? Or the lying to all my friends for months? Or the not being able to contact my boyfriend who probably really needs me right now?"
"The only place you need to start is with what you feel like talking about today. So what do you feel like talking about?"
Leslie toyed with the buttons on her blouse. She'd been watching her words for so many months now that it had become second nature, even with Ann. This was something completely different.
She bit lightly on her bottom lip as the silence stretched on longer. She didn't like long silences. "I sleep with a gun in my nightstand drawer," she said suddenly, not even realizing that was on her list of things to talk about.
Dr. Nygard nodded. "Does that help?"
"No. I still have bad dreams. And I still get jumpy every time I hear noises." She shook her head. "The police drive by five times a day-including over night. But it's hard feeling safe, any more. They went after Ben's mom to get to him. They could come after me, too. I mean, the guys that were doing it before won't. One of them is dead, and the other is in jail. But there could be others. You never know."
"Um-hmm." He nodded.
Wasn't he supposed to be helpful? Why didn't he say anything?
"You'd think with all that, I'd have trouble sleeping, but I don't. I'm exhausted at the end of every day. And I get sleepy after lunch. That never used to happen. I've been sleeping a lot longer than I used to. Almost six hours a night."
Dr. Nygard raised an eyebrow. "That's long for you?"
"Well, I usually only sleep four or four and a half hours. So, yes. My doctor said that fatigue is normal for people recovering from my injuries, but I still don't like it. I have bad dreams. And I wake up worried about what might have happened overnight."
"I see."
It was Leslie's turn to raise her eyebrows. "So, you're not going to say anything? Or do anything?"
"Not yet." He tented his fingers. "It's still your time to talk."
"Okay."
After forty more minutes of prolonged silences and sporadic outbursts of things she hadn't told anyone else, Leslie's time was up. She shook Dr. Nygard's hand and left not knowing whether she felt any better or not. But she still scheduled an appointment for next week.
~ ~ ~
Ben started going for walks in the evening. Aimless, rambling walks around his neighborhood. He'd started feeling restless, after so many weeks shut up inside.
The weather in Tucson in February was pretty amazing, but he'd been warned about the summers. He was pretty glad he'd be gone by then.
The first time he went out, he stopped in at a nearby convenience store and was looking at snacks when he noticed two rough-looking college age boys whispering in low tones by the refrigerated cases, looking shifty. It was enough to trigger a panic attack. Ben managed to escape to the restroom, where it took him more than twenty minutes of deep breathing to calm himself back down so he could walk home. He noticed the cashier giving him a dirty look on his way out. When he made it back to the apartment he forced a smile for Chris's sake.
He didn't intend to go out the next night, but after an early dinner his legs started feeling restless again. This time he forced himself to keep to a short route, and circled the two block radius around his apartment building three times before calling it a night.
On his third excursion he stepped into a bookstore, and a teenage boy bumped into him passing the news stand. Ben felt the panic start to rise again and headed for the bathroom. This time he managed to pull himself together after just a few minutes. Maybe those pills Chris kept giving him were finally starting to work.
After returning from his fourth successful outing, to be once again greeted by his grinning roommate, Ben decided it was time to swallow his pride.
"Hey, Chris," he said, struggling for the right words to convey the full depth of his feelings, "I need to-to say thank you. For everything, lately. I just-thanks for being here for me. Really."
Chris reached out and placed a hand on Ben's shoulder. "Anything for a friend."
Ben's throat got tight and he nodded. It was more than that, and Chris knew it. But for now, this thanks would have to be enough. He met Chris's eyes. "How did you do it? How did you keep going like this, and pull yourself together, after all that's happened?"
Chris stared thoughtfully into space for a moment before answering. "I found something inside myself in those woods," he said. "I strength and a courage that I'd never known was there. I've been letting that new understanding of myself carry me through. Besides-you needed me."
"I did." Ben could barely speak through the emotional clogging his throat. "I do. Thank you."
Chris pulled Ben into a warm hug, and, for the first time, Ben wasn't the first one to pull away.
The next morning, Ben stood at the stove making his own eggs for breakfast when Chris returned home from his run with another print-out of a Pawnee article. Ben resisted his first impulse to chide Chris for risking another jaunt onto the internet (he had no intention of making the same mistakes here as he did in Pawnee), but the sight of Leslie's name in the headline was too much for him. He took the paper and started reading, his eyes growing wider by the second.
"She's getting her park," he whispered. The Swanson-Knope Hero Park (sponsored by Sweetums) was being built on lot 48, and would feature hero-themed play equipment and a monument to honor everyday heroes like police officers, emergency responders, doctors, and members of the military. Ben felt a tight knot of emotion in his chest.
"I can't imagine any more meaningful way to honor Leslie for her actions," said Chris.
Ben nodded, tears clouding his vision. He couldn't hide the emotion in his voice when he spoke. "She deserves this. More than anyone I've ever known."
His whole frame ached with regret and loneliness. He closed his eyes and let himself imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like to stand beside her at the ribbon-cutting ceremony. To share in her joy and excitement. God, she'd be radiant.
But it wasn't meant to be. Life had proven to him again and again that he wasn't destined for happiness. And now, he couldn't stand in way of Leslie's happiness, either. She was better off without him. Better off by far.
"I'm happy for her," he said in a rough voice. "Really happy."
After finishing his breakfast, Ben tucked the new article away in the folder he kept hidden between his mattress and box spring, along with the other articles Chris had printed out. He wouldn't let himself read them again. It was too much, to see the pictures of her face. To be reminded of the life she was building without him. But he still wanted to keep them close. As if a part of her was still with him.
He knew he'd have to let go completely one of these days, but he wasn't ready quite yet.
~ ~ ~
Shaking Mayor Gunderson's hand at the groundbreaking for a park named in her honor should have been one of the proudest moments of Leslie's life. Instead, it felt bittersweet.
She smiled for the mayor, and smiled and waved for the small crowd, and gave hugs and said thanks. Yet, the whole time, in the back of her mind lingered the feeling that she hadn't really earned this. Her park hadn't come about because she worked hard, raised money, cut through red tape and swayed hearts. Rather, it came because she was shot defending her boyfriend, the voice of public opinion declared her a hero, and Sweetums decided it would be good press to pay for a park honor the new local "heroes." And somehow the town's largest employer had managed to pull the whole thing together in just a few weeks-it seemed patently unfair.
So yes, Leslie had gotten what she wanted. But at what cost?
After the ceremony, as the crowd dispersed, Leslie caught sight of an unexpected face. It was the city manager, Paul.
She walked up to him, smiling. "Hey! It's so good to see you back on your feet. How are you feeling?"
"I've been better." He shrugged. "But it could be worse-I could be dead of a heart attack."
"Good point. So what brings you out to our little ceremony today?" she asked.
"I was curious to see how you were doing. You look good. But I've gone through my own surgery lately, so that gives me a perspective most of these people don't have." Paul gestured around at the crowd. "Is there much pain anymore?"
He was the only person other than Ann who'd ever asked her that. Leslie's eyes drifted downward. "A little. But it's getting better every week. It still hurts when I try to lift heavy things."
"So stop lifting heavy things," said Paul with a smile.
"Exactly. But, uh, I don't use pain meds. And I don't even want them anymore. I can deal with it."
He nodded slowly. "That's good. And what about the other kind of pain?" he asked, tapping his temple. "Do you have someone to talk to?"
Leslie had never known Paul very well, and it left a lump in her throat to hear him talk with som much understanding. "I do. I've seen a therapist a couple of times. It's good, I think."
"Good. Good." Paul nodded again. "I've gotta say-when I first heard the news, I was mad as hell at those boys for lying to me. But the more I thought about it, the more my feelings changed. The way I see it, they were just out trying to make a living like the rest of us when they came across evidence of some pretty scary stuff. And instead of running away like most folks would, they stood up for what was right, regardless of the personal consequences. And when they got sent here, they could have laid low and crunched the numbers and then headed on their way, but instead they made friends, and got involved, and starting really caring about Pawnee." He pursed his lips and sighed. "It's nothing if not remarkable. Truly remarkable."
Leslie felt her face getting warm, and she smiled. "I agree."
"Well," Paul continued, "I'll be coming back to work soon. If your boy, Ben, decides to come back to Pawnee after the trial, let me know. I'll make sure there's a job waiting for him when he gets here."
Leslie stammered out her thanks, and watched in awe as Paul walked away. He was the first person since to Andy to see things exactly how she did. It felt good to know that she had more allies out there than she'd realized.
If only there was a way to let Ben know how many people felt this way about him. To let him know just how amazing he truly was. A way to help him right now, instead of later.
Her brain started spinning with ideas.
By the time she finished her post-ceremony brunch with Ann, she had a plan.
~ ~ ~
Doreen Adams sat in her kitchen, finishing lunch, when her phone rang. The ID said it was her best friend, Autumn, so she answered (she never answered without recognizing the ID, these days).
"Dorrie-I'm on my way over. I have someone with me who wanted to meet you, but she noticed the police surveillance car outside your house and worried that she wouldn't be welcome, since she's a stranger."
"If she's a stranger, what makes you think I'll want to meet her?"
"Because she's the one who sent you that packet of papers from Ben. She's the woman from Indiana."
Doreen sucked in a quick breath. Getting that packet of papers-seeing just how much Ben was thinking of her-had meant the world. "I'll meet you at the door."
She hung up and grabbed her crutches. She hated that she still had to walk with the damn things, but at least it was a step up from the wheelchair.
She stood at the window by her front door and watched as Autumn and a petite blonde woman made their way up her front walk. Doreen pulled the door open when they arrived, and Autumn ushered the blonde inside.
"I'm sorry to surprise you like this," said the strange woman. "I just-I really wanted to come meet you. My name is Leslie. Leslie Knope, from Pawnee, Indiana."
Doreen nodded, struggling to find the right words for her unexpected visitor. "I-I read about you on the news. I know what you did for my son." Tears started welling in her eyes. "I don't know how to thank you . . ."
Leslie shook her head. "I didn't come here for thanks. I came here because I want to be a part of your son's life, but I can't. So I thought I'd see if maybe I could be a part of yours, instead."
Doreen took a deep breath and asked the question that had been on her mind ever since she saw the news about Ben's time in Indiana. "Leslie-are you in love with my son?"
"Yes. I am." Leslie's eyes sparkled with emotion.
"Come sit down. I think that you and I have a lot to talk about."
~ ~ ~
George Everson twitched his ankle. He still hadn't gotten used to the weight of the tracking device they'd fastened around his ankle as a condition of his bail after being charged with murder and attempted murder, following the Indiana incident. They'd managed to turn his own home into a prison.
The trial was less than a week away, and three of his lawyers sat in front of him in his home office. As usual, he didn't like what they had to say.
"They're folding like a house of cards," said one of them. "All of our defense witnesses are turning against you. Cutting deals to save their own skins. After these new charges, we've got almost no one left."
"We still have Yeager," said Everson.
Another of the lawyers coughed uncomfortably, and the first spoke again. "Actually, Yeager was taken into police custody last night. That's why we're here. We have it on good authority that even as we speak, he's cutting a deal. Working out a lenient plea in exchange for implicating you in the murder-for-hire plot. It's not good. If they bring you to trial on the murder-for-hire charges, you could face the death penalty."
Everson's eyes went a little wider. Yeager had turned against him? Even Yeager? Was there no such thing as loyalty left on earth anymore?
"Here's what we propose," said another lawyer, "if you plead guilty to all the fraud charges, right now, and promise to testify that Yeager was actually the mastermind behind the murder-for-hire plot, then the government is willing to grant you immunity from all the murder charges. You'll only serve seven to ten years in a minimum security facility. It'll be easy time."
"No time is easy time for a man of seventy-two," said Everson, turning over their offer in his head. God, damn it.
The first lawyer shook his head. "This is the best offer you're going to get."
"They'll seize my company."
"They'll seize your company whether you plead guilty or not," said the second lawyer, grimly.
Everson shook his head. "I need a few hours to think about it. Come back at three. I'll have your answer then." He dismissed the lawyers, and they left with sour looks on their faces.
A man was no man without his business. And a fink was no man at all. Everson lived by certain principles, and he wasn't going to turn his back on them. Not now. Not ever.
He sat at his desk and composed short letters to his three daughters, even to the one who turned her back on him years ago. Then he opened his desk drawer and stood up.
A man lived by a code, and a man died by a code. Everson intended to die on his feet.
He reached into his drawer and pulled out the revolver that lay inside.
Several rooms away, Everson's valet was organizing the humidor when he heard the shot ring out. By the time he made it to the office, it was far too late.
TBC
Chapter 23 here