Two weeks go by. The colors and shapes of Jackie's mind flowed slowly as he recovered on the bed. That night… That terrible night. Days blend together. Hours feel like years. He only knew of his room. That same bed now his possible tomb. Ashley did what she could to keep him alive. Getting blood for him. She was smoking outside his room, while Rose gathered her things for WNY. "How's he looking?" She asked.
Ashley took a long drag, tapping her foot. "As fine as he could be, I guess? He lost a lot of blood. He's lucky he didn't fall into a coma."
"What would you call this then?" Rose asked.
"Rest. He wakes up, groaning about something I don't understand, then goes back to sleep."
"Huh." Rose walked to see the resting Jackie, bandaged and comfortable, for now. "Jackie'll pull through. He always does." With that, Rose walks off, leaving Ashley with the task of caring for him.
Jackie's eyes fluttered open, staring at the ceiling. His hearing was kinda muffled for the past few days, but his ears perked at a piano. Ashley left the TV on, and it was playing A Charlie Brown Christmas. He could always remember the opening. Was it December already? Realizing he lost so much time, he tried to get up he was much too weak. He fell with a soft creak on the bed. All he could hear was Christmas Time Is Here as the special opened. Jackie loved Christmas. He wanted to hate it. Every year it was a reminder of what could've been. An alternate world if his parents loved him. They were the perfect parents in the presence of others. Then it was back to normal. The neglect. The commands. The resentment. It wasn't fair. He didn't ask to be born. Jackie wondered if they ever missed their son. Did they remember the times where they'd sit down and watch Charlie Brown? Did they take all the family photos as a permanent reminder of the absent child?
Why didn't Mother love him?
He just wanted a hug. A reminder that he was a good kid.
Jackie broke down in the bed. Crying as he heard the special play on. Nostalgia gripped his neck like a noose. Memories played in his head of an idealized world that didn't exist. The Whites did not have a great home life. And the memories were a sick reminder. Knowing all that, why did he still desire to return to that moment? Why?
Meanwhile…
At Town Hall, the once gaping hole where the mayor's office used to be was now boarded up like a band-aid. Hundreds of protesters arrived in the cold, chanting for the removal of Coleson.
Coleson got to go!
Coleson got to go!
Coleson got to go!
Signs were lifted, the chants were mighty, and the crowd was unwavering. The police calmly blocked any protesters from reaching the entrance of City Hall, other than that there was nothing they could do. Summer, who broke the news last week, was sitting at a coffee shop not too far with Detective Leon, looking at the crowd while protecting themselves from the wind chill biting them. Summer, drinking her hot chocolate, studied the crowd. "Can't believe that story just fell on my lap."
"I assume you can't tell me who?" Leon joked.
"Didn't exactly give me a name and address. I couldn't tell you if I wanted to."
Leon shrugged and leaned back in the chair with his coffee. "So much shit happened that night. Ultraviolence fighting the Seoul Men on the train, City Hall blows up, the docks were a massacre. This city is going to hell."
Summer leaned forward. "I know it's going to blow up, Leon. You gonna be safe when it does?"
"Always, Summer. Regardless, we know what the bastard looks like. It's only a matter of time."
She remembered the video and photos of the masked killer under light. A regular guy in a bandana mask wearing all black. She expected something that didn't exist. "Sure. But shouldn't we focus on Coleson first?"
"There's an investigation," Leon remarked. "But that takes time. The holidays are coming up. We won't see this sprout until March. At the earliest."
Summer shook her head. "You know that'll be too long."
"That's why we capture Ultraviolence to calm the crowd. Make them think twice before following him in his footsteps."
With a sigh, Summer sipped her drink. The city. Something had to give. She could hope somebody had the water before New York exploded.
***
Rose was helping as much as she could as the sea of victims needed all hands to treat them. The women wandering in from the cold on Thanksgiving were reeling from the physical and mental abuse. Elizabeth and other volunteers were always around. Rose joined in as soon as she could. No doubt, this was the work of Ultraviolence. And if Jackie could save them half dead, then she could do so much more.
It was no easy task. They weren't therapists. Some were strong, others could hardly cope with the reality. All of them displaced, some had a hard time going home. Some had no home. Rose sat outside, letting winter take her for just a moment. The end of the year was approaching quickly. It felt like the end of the world. Protests, bombings, what's going to happen? People are getting restless. Rose can't help but feel like she's at fault. Even then she's still helping Jackie find who Yuliana was. She just had to see it through.
She got a call, it was Dante. She hadn't heard from him since Thanksgiving. "Hello?"
"Rose! Hey, we gotta talk in person." Dante said rather quickly.
"Dante, slow down. Where the hell were you?"
"That's the thing," Dante said back. "I can't say. Not here. But meet me at the park we usually go to. I'll tell you everything. Promise."
Rose sighed, not liking it but she had to go along. For now. "Fine. Better be something good."
With that, Rose went off to meet her friend, as the city neared something major.