After the Rain (2/?)
Part One
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"Ethan, double vanilla latte."
The barrista, a new girl, winks at Ethan when she hands him his coffee, making him blush a little. He still gets embarrassed when he's recognized, and even more so when someone flirts with him. It's flattering, but it makes him a little uncomfortable whether the attention comes from a pretty girl or a good looking man. One thing that surprised him on his book tour was how many men asked him out after an interview he'd done with a gay magazine had been published. His handler had told him at the time that it was great publicity and would increase book sales if he could tap into that market, but he hadn't expected to be considered attractive to that demographic. There was no particular reason for the modesty, just a genuine surprise at the enthusiasm. The "warden" had explained that his combination of thick brown hair and sad blue eyes obviously appealed to the guys who would love the chance to make him feel better after what he'd gone through. Plus, according to her, there was something striking about his features ("kissable lips" she'd said, much to Ethan's embarrassment) that was extremely appealing to both men and women. And then she'd underscored her point by hitting on him. Ethan had agreed to talk to the magazine if she promised to never, ever make a pass at him again.
During the interview, he'd been asked a question by the interviewer about whether or not he had any firsthand knowledge of Agent Jayden's rumored homosexuality. Apparently, Norman had been named one of the magazine's sexiest bachelors, and there had been some murmurings about a possible involvement between the brave father and the heroic Special Agent. Ethan's flustered response had been misinterpreted as his simply being coy, and that had fueled rumors about his own personal life for a little while. He had taken it all in stride, politely declining the offers of dates from both the men and the women who asked, and had gratefully returned to his quiet life once the whirlwind of publicity was over. Reminders still crop up, though, when things like pretty barristas winking at him happen. It never occurs to him that she might not know who he is and simply thinks he's attractive. He just wants to take his coffee and leave.
"Name, sir?"
"Norman."
Before Ethan opens the door to exit the coffee shop, he hears a familiar voice at the counter saying the name. Nahman. He'd seen enough interviews with Agent Jayden to know that accent anywhere. When he turns around, he's pleased to see he's right and that the man he never got to thank all those years ago is paying for a cup of coffee in the same shop that Ethan's been patronizing for a couple of years now. Chalking it up to fate, kismet, or whatever it might be, Ethan waits for Norman to put away his wallet before approaching him.
"Agent Jayden?"
Green eyes immediately lock onto his, making the other man look startled for a moment. Then, slowly, recognition begins to replace surprise, and a small, relieved smile curls the corners of Jayden's mouth.
"Ethan Mars! How the hell are you?" he says, putting a hand out. "It's just Norman now, by the way. I'm no longer with the Bureau."
Ethan shakes the offered hand and nods. "I'd heard a rumor a little while back about that, but I wasn't sure if I should believe it. There were...other things mentioned."
Norman's expression stiffens a little and he shakes his head. "Not here," he says just as the barrista calls his name. "You have some time to catch up?" he asks Ethan, grabbing his coffee and gesturing toward the exit. "Walk with me?"
"Um, yeah, sure," Ethan says, looking at him curiously before following him out the door. The former agent seems spooked.
The two men end up on a bench in a secluded part of a park that's about a block from the coffee shop. Ethan looks at Norman expectantly while he sips his latte. He isn't sure if he's supposed to say anything. .
"Sorry about that," Norman finally says with a chagrined smile. "You just never know who's listening."
"Of course," Ethan says, wondering if the fame Norman had at one time was responsible for the paranoia. "So, tell me, how have you been? I'm shocked to see you here. What brought you back after all these years?"
"Let's just say I've got some demons to deal with and this is one of the places I need to do that," Norman says cryptically, staring at his coffee cup just a little too intensely for Ethan's taste. A slight furrow of his brow and he takes a cautious sip. Apparently finding the beverage satisfactory, he relaxes and takes another sip.
"Is everything all right?" Ethan asks. There's something a little off about the man. Maybe it's the way his eyes keep shifting around as if seeing foes that are only visible to him, or maybe it's the way he can't quite seem to get settled, as if he's uncomfortable in his own skin. It makes Ethan think that perhaps there's some truth to the rehab rumors. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
Norman raises an eyebrow slightly, then narrows his eyes for a brief moment before answering. "Like what?"
"I-I don't know," Ethan stammers. "You just seem..."
"I just seem what?" Norman's expression is curious, and if Ethan's not mistaken, even a little amused. "A little tweaked?"
Ethan's starting to wonder if he might have made a mistake by approaching Jayden. If the former agent's admittedly working through some issues, perhaps running into a victim from his past is dredging up some things better left alone.
"No, it's not... I didn't mean to offend," Ethan says, clearing his throat.
"Hey, it's okay, Ethan," Norman says, reaching to give Ethan's arm a friendly squeeze. "I know what you're referring to, and it takes some getting used to."
"What do you mean?"
A rueful smile and Norman shakes his head. "That's a conversation that should probably be saved for something stronger than coffee. But I am glad we ran into one another," he quickly says before Ethan can respond. "I never got a chance to talk to you after everything that happened."
Ethan raises his eyebrows. "You wanted to talk to me after?" he asks. "I was always sorry I never got to thank you for what you did. You knew I was innocent and had my back. You saved my life. You saved my son's life. I regretted that I wasn't able to tell you what that all meant to me. You left town so quickly."
"I was called back to D.C. the day we caught the Origami Killer. Catching the bastard and proving to Blake that you were innocent didn't change that. I still had to leave." Norman smiles, but Ethan swears there's a little sadness in his eyes. "How's Shaun doing, by the way?"
"He's doing pretty damn great," Ethan says enthusiastically, smiling at the mention of his son. "A typical fifteen year-old."
"Fantastic. Do you think it would be okay for me to say hi to him sometime?"
Ethan nods. "Sure. He's with his grandparents for the summer, though. How long are you going to be in town? Maybe you can call him."
After his rescue, Shaun had constantly asked Ethan if they'd ever see Agent Jayden again. He'd finally stopped when his father was never able to say anything but 'I don't know, kiddo.' Ethan is sure his son would be excited to finally get the chance to talk to the man, no matter how many years it had been.
"Actually, I'm relocating to this area, so I can just wait for him to get back into town," Norman says, taking a sip of his coffee.
"You're moving here?" Ethan asks, surprised. "I thought you were just visiting to take care of your, er, demons."
"That's one of the reasons I'm here," Norman says with a slow nod, "but it's also been on my short list for places to retire. City of Brotherly Love and all that."
"You're going to retire? You're so young."
"But I'm damaged goods, Ethan. No way I'll be able to get back in with the feds."
"Surely there are other things you can do." Ethan sits up a little straighter. "We need people like you protecting us, not madmen like that lieutenant you worked with on the Origami case." He still has a scar on his lip from the beating Carter Blake gave him while trying to garner his confession.
"He's a captain now," Norman says with another one of those squints that makes it appear as if he's tracking something that's not really there.
"You're kidding me."
Norman shakes his head. "You didn't read about it?"
"I try to avoid any headlines about the Philly PD's involvement with Shaun's case. They let me down." Ethan swallows some more coffee. It's too hot and burns his throat a little, but it's a welcome distraction from the feeling of panic that's starting to build inside him.
As if picking up on this, Norman touches Ethan's arm again and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "He got the promotion not long after Origami was killed," he says softly. "Thankfully, according to my sources, it was only for public relations reasons and he's been assigned to head a division that doesn't put him in direct contact with the public."
"But...but how can he be rewarded?" Ethan asks in disbelief. "He went to that warehouse with half the police force, set to kill me on sight because he thought I was the killer. If it hadn't been for you..." He shudders when he thinks about how things could have turned out if not for Norman.
"Yeah, well, the Chief decided he wanted to put a better spin on things."
"So he promoted a violent--"
"Unbalanced, psychopathic asshole," Norman finishes, then grins. "I called him that once. He took it as a compliment."
Ethan looks at Norman. The strange sense of disbelief and horror he's feeling would be clear to anyone looking at him, but he knows Norman might be the only other person around who can truly understand what's going through his head.
"Maybe I should move," Ethan says, trying to sound as if he's joking but failing. "Suddenly this city doesn't feel all that safe to me anymore." It feels ridiculous as he says it, especially considering that there isn't any real danger. It's been five years since the man was promoted to a position of power, and there hasn't been any effect on Ethan and his family. He's being paranoid and wishes he could stop.
"Because of Blake?" Norman shakes his head and sits forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking down at the cup between his hands. "Don't give him that much power, man."
Ethan first nods, then slowly shakes his head. "It's not just that. It's everything. I stayed here because of Shaun, so he could be close to his mother, still go to school with his friends." He pauses for a moment. "So he can be close to his brother's final resting place."
"But you're having a lot of difficulties being in the same city where this extremely traumatic event in your life occurred." It's not a question. "You're most likely suffering from PTSD," he continues. "Are you seeing anyone? On any medication for it?"
"I..." Ethan frowns. "How did you know?"
"I was an FBI profiler and psychologist," Norman says, offering Ethan a small smile. "And I've had a lot of experience dealing with victims of major crimes."
"Dealing with?" Ethan tilts his head. "How so?"
"Post-interviews, keeping in touch, making sure they're all right. It's not standard practice for all agents, but it's something I tried to do when I was on the job."
Ethan nods. "And you never did that with either Shaun or myself. You just went back to D.C., went on your talk shows, wrote your book and didn't give us a second thought." Inexplicably, he's suddenly shaking and feeling angrier than he knows he has a right to, but he can't hold back the wave of emotion that's threatening to burst through him. "You just left us! You'd gotten your killer, and you just left us so you could wallow in your newfound fame. Just like Madison did. I can't believe that I was ever concerned about seeing you again, about thanking you." It's panic, pure and simple. The knowledge that the one man who'd made him feel safe had appeared to have abandoned him is making Ethan behave irrationally. Deep down, he knows this, but he can't stop.
Norman sits quietly, seemingly waiting for Ethan to get everything out of his system. There's no reaction other than him carefully watching Ethan's face as he speaks and continues to rail against him. Once Ethan has gotten everything off his chest, Norman clears his throat and starts to speak.
"Ethan, when I was working on the Origami Killer case, I was in the midst of a crippling triptocaine addiction."
Ethan narrows his eyes at the other man, his anger ebbing at the admission. He'd never taken drugs himself, but even he knows that one of the most dangerous drugs to be addicted to is triptocaine. He also knows that it's one of the hardest drug habits to kick. A morbid joke on the subject says that the only successful former triptocaine addict is the one that can be found buried at the nearest cemetery.
"Why did... How could you be a drug addict?" Ethan asks softly.
"It started as a way to deal with the side effects of the ARI," Norman says, then continues at the questioning look Ethan gives him. "Added Reality Interface. The FBI developed a way for agents to collect and analyze evidence in the field through a specially designed pair of glasses. They look like ordinary sunglasses, but when paired with a glove for both the intake and manipulation of the evidence, they're an extremely effective scientific investigation tool."
"But there were side effects?" Ethan asks, wondering if the former agent's strange skittishness is a result of the drug or the ARI thing he's talking about.
Norman nods. "In order for ARI to work properly, it had to make a direct connection with various neural pathways in the user's brain, effectively altering them while the device was being used. Unfortunately, what the Bureau didn't realize was that with prolonged use it became more and more difficult for those altered pathways to return to normal. Eventually, the damage would be irreversible, and the user would be trapped in a state of artificial reality."
"Trapped?" The thought of something like that happening both fascinates and disturbs Ethan. He's fascinated by the technological aspect of it but disturbed that the Federal Bureau of Investigation is subjecting their agents to such dangers.
"Yes, trapped," Norman repeats. "Unable to return to the real world, unable to function in any way as a real human being."
"Oh my god," Ethan whispers. "And the tripto?"
"They discovered that triptocaine was a way to counteract the effects of ARI. If an agent started to show symptoms of any kind of brain damage, he was instructed to take a dose of tripto."
Ethan's jaw drops. The implications of this are horrendous. The Bureau advocated turning their agents into drug addicts in the name of advances in forensic technology. It sounds like something out of a sci fi novel. Or a horror movie.
"But tripto's the most addictive drug out there," Ethan says, still trying to wrap his head around what Norman is telling him. "How could they do that?"
Norman shrugs and sits back. "It's Uncle Sam. Trust me when I say it's not the worst thing they've done."
The statement hangs between them for a few long minutes, until finally Ethan speaks. "So you really did go to rehab."
"Yeah, I did," Norman says. "I tried to quit the tripto on my own, but it was too late." He flicks a tiny piece of imaginary something off his pants. "I needed professional help to get clean. Between the drug and ARI, I've suffered some irreparable brain damage. Thankfully, it's nothing more than some visual and auditory hallucinations."
"Oh, is that all?" Ethan snorts. "And then, on top of that, they kick you out of the Bureau? My god, Norman, how can they get away with doing that to you? I'm not going to stand for this, you know. I'm going to see what I can do to get the word out."
Norman takes a deep breath and actually smiles. "Wow."
"I'm sorry, did I say something funny?" Ethan asks, still upset.
"No, it's not that," Norman says quickly. "It's just been a really long time since anyone's wanted to defend me." He nods, giving Ethan an appraising look. "Thank you."
The focused sincerity Ethan sees in Norman's eyes is so intense, it catches him off guard for a second. "That can't be true," he says, his voice catching a little. "You seem like a good guy. Why wouldn't--"
"That's just it, Ethan," Norman says, lowering his eyes to once more concentrate on the cup in his hand. "It's been a long time since I've been a good guy. Honestly, it's been a long time since I've even been sure who it is I am."
This time it's Ethan's turn to sit quietly and listen as the other man lets go of what he's holding onto. As he does, he finally starts to see how hard the past few years must have been on Norman Jayden. The initial joy (could it really have been joy? Or was it relief?) at seeing the other man had momentarily blinded him to the physical toll that the addiction has obviously taken. Norman is a few years younger than Ethan, but that would be hard to tell now. The man has a ragged, tired, barely-holding-on look about him. It isn't just the way he looks as if he's keeping a constant vigil for invisible enemies, though that doesn't help. It goes beyond that. He looks like a man who has been running for years and has never been allowed the luxury of stopping to rest and assess where he is. Harried. That's the word Ethan's looking for and what describes Norman perfectly. Even sitting here, presumably relaxed and catching up with an acquaintance, Norman looks harried and exhausted.
"You can't make any of this public," Norman says quietly. "The Bureau is pretty passionate about keeping their secrets secret, if you know what I mean. I don't care about myself so much, but I couldn't stand it if innocent people got hurt because of me."
"Hurt? How would anyone get hurt for revealing the truth?"
Norman's eyes quickly scan Ethan's face. Whether he's looking for any sign of irony or sarcasm, Ethan can't tell, but he does smile again. "Is it is possible I've met the one man in the country who isn't cynical enough about the government to believe they'd go to any lengths possible to protect themselves from public scrutiny?"
Ethan feels himself blush a little at his seeming naivete and takes a deep breath. "I suppose I would like to live in a world where telling the truth isn't something punishable by death." He clears his throat and wonders if Norman thinks he's a fool. "But I know that's not reality. Still, I can't just sit idly by and let them destroy your life with impunity."
Norman shakes his head, but the smile's still there. "I appreciate that, Ethan, but it's too late. I don't have any fight left in me anywhere, and believe me when I say I've tried to find it. At this point, I just want to find a place to settle down, and I've decided it's going to be here."
"Well, how are you for money?" Ethan asks, ready to offer whatever help he can.
"I'm okay. I had some good people managing my money, so I'll be all right. And," he adds with a soft chuckle, "if worse comes to worse, I can always track down Madison for a photo op to give us both a boost. Or take a page from her book and get a few pictures with you."
"I take it you saw the lovely Miss Paige with me during that book tour stop," Ethan says, grinning at the wicked glint he catches in Norman's eyes before it burns out.
"She was so subtle, I almost missed it," Norman says, deadpan.
Ethan laughs out loud. Madison had brought along a camera crew and a photographer for their little reunion, and when asked by someone waiting in line to get their book signed if she was there to interview Ethan for her new talk show, she'd said she was only there to catch up with an old friend. While Ethan might not have been good enough for a sit down, the footage of them together had been aired repeatedly by her network, playing up her relationship with the 'Origami Dad.' Madison had even managed to segue to a plug for her new book about investigative journalism.
"I guess I can't blame her for not wanting to do more than get a soundbite of the competition," Ethan says with a slight shrug.
"A soundbite she used over and over again to play up her connection to you," Norman points out. "Not to mention she made sure to keep bringing up the fact that the two of you had slept together when your interview in that gay magazine came out. She's calculating."
"That's true," Ethan concedes. "I couldn't figure out why she thought that was relevant, though."
"I think she did it because of the rumors out there about you and me," Norman says with a wry smile. "She probably wanted all the queers to know she was there first, just in case there was any truth to an affair between us."
Ethan blushes a little, unsure how to respond to that. "I think maybe the reception to my book took her by surprise."
"It shouldn't have," Norman quickly points out. "You and Shaun came off as the only human beings in this whole thing, while she and I were too clinical."
"I wouldn't say you were clinical," Ethan says, sitting back and crossing his legs. "Just extremely thorough when it came to the investigative part of it. I was just more..."
"Human," Norman reiterates. "It's okay that you came off that way and we didn't. In fact, there probably wasn't any other way for you to be. You're a really decent man, Ethan, and that came out in every page of your book. The love you have for Shaun, your courage, your willingness to sacrifice everything to save your son from the clutches of a lunatic." Norman looks at him, his gaze steady. "I can't count the number of times I've read that book, you know. My copy's worn out."
The intensity is back in Norman's eyes, making Ethan feel a little flustered under the scrutiny. But he doesn't break eye contact right away, choosing to hold onto that rush of...something he can't quite articulate. All he knows is it's something he hasn't felt in a very long time. When Norman grins slowly and averts his eyes, Ethan can't help feeling as if he just won some imaginary contest between them.
"Listen, what are you doing for dinner tonight?" Ethan suddenly finds himself asking. "If you're not busy, would you like to keep catching up?"
Norman appears surprised by the invitation. Surprised and pleased.
"I was just gonna grab a burger and a beer and call it a night," he says, "but I wouldn't say no to some company."
The little frisson of having Norman accept his offer has Ethan sitting up straight and smiling. "Okay, great. Where are you staying? I can pick you up at eight and we can go out to this gourmet burger place I know."
"Gourmet burgers?" Norman asks, looking a little skeptical. "There's such a thing?"
"Oh yes, my friend," Ethan assures him. "By the time the night's over, your mouth will be thanking me."
Norman raises an eyebrow and looks extremely amused. It makes him seem younger, reminding Ethan of the agent he'd first met at the police station.
"What?" Ethan asks, feeling a little at a loss when Norman just keeps looking at him.
"Nothing," Norman says, licking his lips. "Just anticipating you giving my mouth something to be thankful for tonight."
There's no mistaking the heat underlying the teasing words, and Ethan knows he must be blushing something awful. When the other man actually laughs, it's probably worse than he thought.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."
"It's okay, buddy, I know you didn't mean anything by it, but I couldn't resist." Norman drains the last of his coffee and tosses the cup into a nearby trashcan. "You make it really easy. Plus, I figured all those rumors about us dating would have taken the edge off any embarrassment you'd have about me coming on to you."
"What did you think when you found out about that?" Ethan asks, his curiosity getting the better of his embarrassment for the moment.
Norman shrugs. "I can understand why they wanted to play up a romance between us, but it must have bothered you since you're not gay."
"It didn't bother me," Ethan assures him.
"Guess I should try coming on to you, then," Norman says with a crooked grin.
"You must be feeling better," Ethan says, his face getting warm again. The nice thing is that he's feeling better himself. When he'd left the apartment this morning, he would never have thought that this day would have been able to offer him anything but the same grey outlook that every other day seemed to promise.
"That's because I am feeling better," Norman says. "Thanks to you. I don't usually believe in things like fate, but I'd like to think it was more than coincidence that made me stop for coffee this morning."
Ethan nods and gives Norman a long, considering look. "I would, too."
The fact that he'd been curious about the former agent's whereabouts and well being only the night before made him inclined to chalk it up to fate as well. It's as if the universe had sent someone who could help him through the darkness threatening to devour him. Maybe he could even end up being something Norman needed, too.
Norman leans closer. "Then let's go with it and see what happens, huh?"
Ethan smiles. "Sure, like burgers tonight?"
Laughing, Norman claps Ethan on the shoulder and stands up. "Exactly like that. Now, I've gotta go. I'm looking at a few places today, so wish me luck in the great apartment hunt."
Ethan stands, too. He wants to give the man a hug just because he's still so pleased to see him, but he doesn't want to intrude on the man's personal space. Before he can debate too much, Norman reaches for him and pulls him into a warm embrace.
"Really good seeing you again, Ethan Mars," he says softly.
Ethan holds on for just a second more than he usually would, then let's go. "Good to see you too, Norman Jayden." He mimics the heavy Boston accent, getting a grin in return.
"Nice. All right, eight o'clock. I'm staying at the Plaza."
"Plaza," Ethan says, nodding. "Got it."
Still grinning, Norman walks away, looking over his shoulder once to give Ethan a small wave. Ethan waves back, then turns around and heads back to his car with a smile on his face.
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"Ethan, double vanilla latte."
The barrista, a new girl, winks at Ethan when she hands him his coffee, making him blush a little. He still gets embarrassed when he's recognized, and even more so when someone flirts with him. It's flattering, but it makes him a little uncomfortable whether the attention comes from a pretty girl or a good looking man. One thing that surprised him on his book tour was how many men asked him out after an interview he'd done with a gay magazine had been published. His handler had told him at the time that it was great publicity and would increase book sales if he could tap into that market, but he hadn't expected to be considered attractive to that demographic. There was no particular reason for the modesty, just a genuine surprise at the enthusiasm. The "warden" had explained that his combination of thick brown hair and sad blue eyes obviously appealed to the guys who would love the chance to make him feel better after what he'd gone through. Plus, according to her, there was something striking about his features ("kissable lips" she'd said, much to Ethan's embarrassment) that was extremely appealing to both men and women. And then she'd underscored her point by hitting on him. Ethan had agreed to talk to the magazine if she promised to never, ever make a pass at him again.
During the interview, he'd been asked a question by the interviewer about whether or not he had any firsthand knowledge of Agent Jayden's rumored homosexuality. Apparently, Norman had been named one of the magazine's sexiest bachelors, and there had been some murmurings about a possible involvement between the brave father and the heroic Special Agent. Ethan's flustered response had been misinterpreted as his simply being coy, and that had fueled rumors about his own personal life for a little while. He had taken it all in stride, politely declining the offers of dates from both the men and the women who asked, and had gratefully returned to his quiet life once the whirlwind of publicity was over. Reminders still crop up, though, when things like pretty barristas winking at him happen. It never occurs to him that she might not know who he is and simply thinks he's attractive. He just wants to take his coffee and leave.
"Name, sir?"
"Norman."
Before Ethan opens the door to exit the coffee shop, he hears a familiar voice at the counter saying the name. Nahman. He'd seen enough interviews with Agent Jayden to know that accent anywhere. When he turns around, he's pleased to see he's right and that the man he never got to thank all those years ago is paying for a cup of coffee in the same shop that Ethan's been patronizing for a couple of years now. Chalking it up to fate, kismet, or whatever it might be, Ethan waits for Norman to put away his wallet before approaching him.
"Agent Jayden?"
Green eyes immediately lock onto his, making the other man look startled for a moment. Then, slowly, recognition begins to replace surprise, and a small, relieved smile curls the corners of Jayden's mouth.
"Ethan Mars! How the hell are you?" he says, putting a hand out. "It's just Norman now, by the way. I'm no longer with the Bureau."
Ethan shakes the offered hand and nods. "I'd heard a rumor a little while back about that, but I wasn't sure if I should believe it. There were...other things mentioned."
Norman's expression stiffens a little and he shakes his head. "Not here," he says just as the barrista calls his name. "You have some time to catch up?" he asks Ethan, grabbing his coffee and gesturing toward the exit. "Walk with me?"
"Um, yeah, sure," Ethan says, looking at him curiously before following him out the door. The former agent seems spooked.
The two men end up on a bench in a secluded part of a park that's about a block from the coffee shop. Ethan looks at Norman expectantly while he sips his latte. He isn't sure if he's supposed to say anything. .
"Sorry about that," Norman finally says with a chagrined smile. "You just never know who's listening."
"Of course," Ethan says, wondering if the fame Norman had at one time was responsible for the paranoia. "So, tell me, how have you been? I'm shocked to see you here. What brought you back after all these years?"
"Let's just say I've got some demons to deal with and this is one of the places I need to do that," Norman says cryptically, staring at his coffee cup just a little too intensely for Ethan's taste. A slight furrow of his brow and he takes a cautious sip. Apparently finding the beverage satisfactory, he relaxes and takes another sip.
"Is everything all right?" Ethan asks. There's something a little off about the man. Maybe it's the way his eyes keep shifting around as if seeing foes that are only visible to him, or maybe it's the way he can't quite seem to get settled, as if he's uncomfortable in his own skin. It makes Ethan think that perhaps there's some truth to the rehab rumors. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
Norman raises an eyebrow slightly, then narrows his eyes for a brief moment before answering. "Like what?"
"I-I don't know," Ethan stammers. "You just seem..."
"I just seem what?" Norman's expression is curious, and if Ethan's not mistaken, even a little amused. "A little tweaked?"
Ethan's starting to wonder if he might have made a mistake by approaching Jayden. If the former agent's admittedly working through some issues, perhaps running into a victim from his past is dredging up some things better left alone.
"No, it's not... I didn't mean to offend," Ethan says, clearing his throat.
"Hey, it's okay, Ethan," Norman says, reaching to give Ethan's arm a friendly squeeze. "I know what you're referring to, and it takes some getting used to."
"What do you mean?"
A rueful smile and Norman shakes his head. "That's a conversation that should probably be saved for something stronger than coffee. But I am glad we ran into one another," he quickly says before Ethan can respond. "I never got a chance to talk to you after everything that happened."
Ethan raises his eyebrows. "You wanted to talk to me after?" he asks. "I was always sorry I never got to thank you for what you did. You knew I was innocent and had my back. You saved my life. You saved my son's life. I regretted that I wasn't able to tell you what that all meant to me. You left town so quickly."
"I was called back to D.C. the day we caught the Origami Killer. Catching the bastard and proving to Blake that you were innocent didn't change that. I still had to leave." Norman smiles, but Ethan swears there's a little sadness in his eyes. "How's Shaun doing, by the way?"
"He's doing pretty damn great," Ethan says enthusiastically, smiling at the mention of his son. "A typical fifteen year-old."
"Fantastic. Do you think it would be okay for me to say hi to him sometime?"
Ethan nods. "Sure. He's with his grandparents for the summer, though. How long are you going to be in town? Maybe you can call him."
After his rescue, Shaun had constantly asked Ethan if they'd ever see Agent Jayden again. He'd finally stopped when his father was never able to say anything but 'I don't know, kiddo.' Ethan is sure his son would be excited to finally get the chance to talk to the man, no matter how many years it had been.
"Actually, I'm relocating to this area, so I can just wait for him to get back into town," Norman says, taking a sip of his coffee.
"You're moving here?" Ethan asks, surprised. "I thought you were just visiting to take care of your, er, demons."
"That's one of the reasons I'm here," Norman says with a slow nod, "but it's also been on my short list for places to retire. City of Brotherly Love and all that."
"You're going to retire? You're so young."
"But I'm damaged goods, Ethan. No way I'll be able to get back in with the feds."
"Surely there are other things you can do." Ethan sits up a little straighter. "We need people like you protecting us, not madmen like that lieutenant you worked with on the Origami case." He still has a scar on his lip from the beating Carter Blake gave him while trying to garner his confession.
"He's a captain now," Norman says with another one of those squints that makes it appear as if he's tracking something that's not really there.
"You're kidding me."
Norman shakes his head. "You didn't read about it?"
"I try to avoid any headlines about the Philly PD's involvement with Shaun's case. They let me down." Ethan swallows some more coffee. It's too hot and burns his throat a little, but it's a welcome distraction from the feeling of panic that's starting to build inside him.
As if picking up on this, Norman touches Ethan's arm again and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "He got the promotion not long after Origami was killed," he says softly. "Thankfully, according to my sources, it was only for public relations reasons and he's been assigned to head a division that doesn't put him in direct contact with the public."
"But...but how can he be rewarded?" Ethan asks in disbelief. "He went to that warehouse with half the police force, set to kill me on sight because he thought I was the killer. If it hadn't been for you..." He shudders when he thinks about how things could have turned out if not for Norman.
"Yeah, well, the Chief decided he wanted to put a better spin on things."
"So he promoted a violent--"
"Unbalanced, psychopathic asshole," Norman finishes, then grins. "I called him that once. He took it as a compliment."
Ethan looks at Norman. The strange sense of disbelief and horror he's feeling would be clear to anyone looking at him, but he knows Norman might be the only other person around who can truly understand what's going through his head.
"Maybe I should move," Ethan says, trying to sound as if he's joking but failing. "Suddenly this city doesn't feel all that safe to me anymore." It feels ridiculous as he says it, especially considering that there isn't any real danger. It's been five years since the man was promoted to a position of power, and there hasn't been any effect on Ethan and his family. He's being paranoid and wishes he could stop.
"Because of Blake?" Norman shakes his head and sits forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking down at the cup between his hands. "Don't give him that much power, man."
Ethan first nods, then slowly shakes his head. "It's not just that. It's everything. I stayed here because of Shaun, so he could be close to his mother, still go to school with his friends." He pauses for a moment. "So he can be close to his brother's final resting place."
"But you're having a lot of difficulties being in the same city where this extremely traumatic event in your life occurred." It's not a question. "You're most likely suffering from PTSD," he continues. "Are you seeing anyone? On any medication for it?"
"I..." Ethan frowns. "How did you know?"
"I was an FBI profiler and psychologist," Norman says, offering Ethan a small smile. "And I've had a lot of experience dealing with victims of major crimes."
"Dealing with?" Ethan tilts his head. "How so?"
"Post-interviews, keeping in touch, making sure they're all right. It's not standard practice for all agents, but it's something I tried to do when I was on the job."
Ethan nods. "And you never did that with either Shaun or myself. You just went back to D.C., went on your talk shows, wrote your book and didn't give us a second thought." Inexplicably, he's suddenly shaking and feeling angrier than he knows he has a right to, but he can't hold back the wave of emotion that's threatening to burst through him. "You just left us! You'd gotten your killer, and you just left us so you could wallow in your newfound fame. Just like Madison did. I can't believe that I was ever concerned about seeing you again, about thanking you." It's panic, pure and simple. The knowledge that the one man who'd made him feel safe had appeared to have abandoned him is making Ethan behave irrationally. Deep down, he knows this, but he can't stop.
Norman sits quietly, seemingly waiting for Ethan to get everything out of his system. There's no reaction other than him carefully watching Ethan's face as he speaks and continues to rail against him. Once Ethan has gotten everything off his chest, Norman clears his throat and starts to speak.
"Ethan, when I was working on the Origami Killer case, I was in the midst of a crippling triptocaine addiction."
Ethan narrows his eyes at the other man, his anger ebbing at the admission. He'd never taken drugs himself, but even he knows that one of the most dangerous drugs to be addicted to is triptocaine. He also knows that it's one of the hardest drug habits to kick. A morbid joke on the subject says that the only successful former triptocaine addict is the one that can be found buried at the nearest cemetery.
"Why did... How could you be a drug addict?" Ethan asks softly.
"It started as a way to deal with the side effects of the ARI," Norman says, then continues at the questioning look Ethan gives him. "Added Reality Interface. The FBI developed a way for agents to collect and analyze evidence in the field through a specially designed pair of glasses. They look like ordinary sunglasses, but when paired with a glove for both the intake and manipulation of the evidence, they're an extremely effective scientific investigation tool."
"But there were side effects?" Ethan asks, wondering if the former agent's strange skittishness is a result of the drug or the ARI thing he's talking about.
Norman nods. "In order for ARI to work properly, it had to make a direct connection with various neural pathways in the user's brain, effectively altering them while the device was being used. Unfortunately, what the Bureau didn't realize was that with prolonged use it became more and more difficult for those altered pathways to return to normal. Eventually, the damage would be irreversible, and the user would be trapped in a state of artificial reality."
"Trapped?" The thought of something like that happening both fascinates and disturbs Ethan. He's fascinated by the technological aspect of it but disturbed that the Federal Bureau of Investigation is subjecting their agents to such dangers.
"Yes, trapped," Norman repeats. "Unable to return to the real world, unable to function in any way as a real human being."
"Oh my god," Ethan whispers. "And the tripto?"
"They discovered that triptocaine was a way to counteract the effects of ARI. If an agent started to show symptoms of any kind of brain damage, he was instructed to take a dose of tripto."
Ethan's jaw drops. The implications of this are horrendous. The Bureau advocated turning their agents into drug addicts in the name of advances in forensic technology. It sounds like something out of a sci fi novel. Or a horror movie.
"But tripto's the most addictive drug out there," Ethan says, still trying to wrap his head around what Norman is telling him. "How could they do that?"
Norman shrugs and sits back. "It's Uncle Sam. Trust me when I say it's not the worst thing they've done."
The statement hangs between them for a few long minutes, until finally Ethan speaks. "So you really did go to rehab."
"Yeah, I did," Norman says. "I tried to quit the tripto on my own, but it was too late." He flicks a tiny piece of imaginary something off his pants. "I needed professional help to get clean. Between the drug and ARI, I've suffered some irreparable brain damage. Thankfully, it's nothing more than some visual and auditory hallucinations."
"Oh, is that all?" Ethan snorts. "And then, on top of that, they kick you out of the Bureau? My god, Norman, how can they get away with doing that to you? I'm not going to stand for this, you know. I'm going to see what I can do to get the word out."
Norman takes a deep breath and actually smiles. "Wow."
"I'm sorry, did I say something funny?" Ethan asks, still upset.
"No, it's not that," Norman says quickly. "It's just been a really long time since anyone's wanted to defend me." He nods, giving Ethan an appraising look. "Thank you."
The focused sincerity Ethan sees in Norman's eyes is so intense, it catches him off guard for a second. "That can't be true," he says, his voice catching a little. "You seem like a good guy. Why wouldn't--"
"That's just it, Ethan," Norman says, lowering his eyes to once more concentrate on the cup in his hand. "It's been a long time since I've been a good guy. Honestly, it's been a long time since I've even been sure who it is I am."
This time it's Ethan's turn to sit quietly and listen as the other man lets go of what he's holding onto. As he does, he finally starts to see how hard the past few years must have been on Norman Jayden. The initial joy (could it really have been joy? Or was it relief?) at seeing the other man had momentarily blinded him to the physical toll that the addiction has obviously taken. Norman is a few years younger than Ethan, but that would be hard to tell now. The man has a ragged, tired, barely-holding-on look about him. It isn't just the way he looks as if he's keeping a constant vigil for invisible enemies, though that doesn't help. It goes beyond that. He looks like a man who has been running for years and has never been allowed the luxury of stopping to rest and assess where he is. Harried. That's the word Ethan's looking for and what describes Norman perfectly. Even sitting here, presumably relaxed and catching up with an acquaintance, Norman looks harried and exhausted.
"You can't make any of this public," Norman says quietly. "The Bureau is pretty passionate about keeping their secrets secret, if you know what I mean. I don't care about myself so much, but I couldn't stand it if innocent people got hurt because of me."
"Hurt? How would anyone get hurt for revealing the truth?"
Norman's eyes quickly scan Ethan's face. Whether he's looking for any sign of irony or sarcasm, Ethan can't tell, but he does smile again. "Is it is possible I've met the one man in the country who isn't cynical enough about the government to believe they'd go to any lengths possible to protect themselves from public scrutiny?"
Ethan feels himself blush a little at his seeming naivete and takes a deep breath. "I suppose I would like to live in a world where telling the truth isn't something punishable by death." He clears his throat and wonders if Norman thinks he's a fool. "But I know that's not reality. Still, I can't just sit idly by and let them destroy your life with impunity."
Norman shakes his head, but the smile's still there. "I appreciate that, Ethan, but it's too late. I don't have any fight left in me anywhere, and believe me when I say I've tried to find it. At this point, I just want to find a place to settle down, and I've decided it's going to be here."
"Well, how are you for money?" Ethan asks, ready to offer whatever help he can.
"I'm okay. I had some good people managing my money, so I'll be all right. And," he adds with a soft chuckle, "if worse comes to worse, I can always track down Madison for a photo op to give us both a boost. Or take a page from her book and get a few pictures with you."
"I take it you saw the lovely Miss Paige with me during that book tour stop," Ethan says, grinning at the wicked glint he catches in Norman's eyes before it burns out.
"She was so subtle, I almost missed it," Norman says, deadpan.
Ethan laughs out loud. Madison had brought along a camera crew and a photographer for their little reunion, and when asked by someone waiting in line to get their book signed if she was there to interview Ethan for her new talk show, she'd said she was only there to catch up with an old friend. While Ethan might not have been good enough for a sit down, the footage of them together had been aired repeatedly by her network, playing up her relationship with the 'Origami Dad.' Madison had even managed to segue to a plug for her new book about investigative journalism.
"I guess I can't blame her for not wanting to do more than get a soundbite of the competition," Ethan says with a slight shrug.
"A soundbite she used over and over again to play up her connection to you," Norman points out. "Not to mention she made sure to keep bringing up the fact that the two of you had slept together when your interview in that gay magazine came out. She's calculating."
"That's true," Ethan concedes. "I couldn't figure out why she thought that was relevant, though."
"I think she did it because of the rumors out there about you and me," Norman says with a wry smile. "She probably wanted all the queers to know she was there first, just in case there was any truth to an affair between us."
Ethan blushes a little, unsure how to respond to that. "I think maybe the reception to my book took her by surprise."
"It shouldn't have," Norman quickly points out. "You and Shaun came off as the only human beings in this whole thing, while she and I were too clinical."
"I wouldn't say you were clinical," Ethan says, sitting back and crossing his legs. "Just extremely thorough when it came to the investigative part of it. I was just more..."
"Human," Norman reiterates. "It's okay that you came off that way and we didn't. In fact, there probably wasn't any other way for you to be. You're a really decent man, Ethan, and that came out in every page of your book. The love you have for Shaun, your courage, your willingness to sacrifice everything to save your son from the clutches of a lunatic." Norman looks at him, his gaze steady. "I can't count the number of times I've read that book, you know. My copy's worn out."
The intensity is back in Norman's eyes, making Ethan feel a little flustered under the scrutiny. But he doesn't break eye contact right away, choosing to hold onto that rush of...something he can't quite articulate. All he knows is it's something he hasn't felt in a very long time. When Norman grins slowly and averts his eyes, Ethan can't help feeling as if he just won some imaginary contest between them.
"Listen, what are you doing for dinner tonight?" Ethan suddenly finds himself asking. "If you're not busy, would you like to keep catching up?"
Norman appears surprised by the invitation. Surprised and pleased.
"I was just gonna grab a burger and a beer and call it a night," he says, "but I wouldn't say no to some company."
The little frisson of having Norman accept his offer has Ethan sitting up straight and smiling. "Okay, great. Where are you staying? I can pick you up at eight and we can go out to this gourmet burger place I know."
"Gourmet burgers?" Norman asks, looking a little skeptical. "There's such a thing?"
"Oh yes, my friend," Ethan assures him. "By the time the night's over, your mouth will be thanking me."
Norman raises an eyebrow and looks extremely amused. It makes him seem younger, reminding Ethan of the agent he'd first met at the police station.
"What?" Ethan asks, feeling a little at a loss when Norman just keeps looking at him.
"Nothing," Norman says, licking his lips. "Just anticipating you giving my mouth something to be thankful for tonight."
There's no mistaking the heat underlying the teasing words, and Ethan knows he must be blushing something awful. When the other man actually laughs, it's probably worse than he thought.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."
"It's okay, buddy, I know you didn't mean anything by it, but I couldn't resist." Norman drains the last of his coffee and tosses the cup into a nearby trashcan. "You make it really easy. Plus, I figured all those rumors about us dating would have taken the edge off any embarrassment you'd have about me coming on to you."
"What did you think when you found out about that?" Ethan asks, his curiosity getting the better of his embarrassment for the moment.
Norman shrugs. "I can understand why they wanted to play up a romance between us, but it must have bothered you since you're not gay."
"It didn't bother me," Ethan assures him.
"Guess I should try coming on to you, then," Norman says with a crooked grin.
"You must be feeling better," Ethan says, his face getting warm again. The nice thing is that he's feeling better himself. When he'd left the apartment this morning, he would never have thought that this day would have been able to offer him anything but the same grey outlook that every other day seemed to promise.
"That's because I am feeling better," Norman says. "Thanks to you. I don't usually believe in things like fate, but I'd like to think it was more than coincidence that made me stop for coffee this morning."
Ethan nods and gives Norman a long, considering look. "I would, too."
The fact that he'd been curious about the former agent's whereabouts and well being only the night before made him inclined to chalk it up to fate as well. It's as if the universe had sent someone who could help him through the darkness threatening to devour him. Maybe he could even end up being something Norman needed, too.
Norman leans closer. "Then let's go with it and see what happens, huh?"
Ethan smiles. "Sure, like burgers tonight?"
Laughing, Norman claps Ethan on the shoulder and stands up. "Exactly like that. Now, I've gotta go. I'm looking at a few places today, so wish me luck in the great apartment hunt."
Ethan stands, too. He wants to give the man a hug just because he's still so pleased to see him, but he doesn't want to intrude on the man's personal space. Before he can debate too much, Norman reaches for him and pulls him into a warm embrace.
"Really good seeing you again, Ethan Mars," he says softly.
Ethan holds on for just a second more than he usually would, then let's go. "Good to see you too, Norman Jayden." He mimics the heavy Boston accent, getting a grin in return.
"Nice. All right, eight o'clock. I'm staying at the Plaza."
"Plaza," Ethan says, nodding. "Got it."
Still grinning, Norman walks away, looking over his shoulder once to give Ethan a small wave. Ethan waves back, then turns around and heads back to his car with a smile on his face.