~ Chapter V ~

‘Well Miss. Nightingale, you sure seem to find yourself in an awful way more so often then most.’

Were the words floating in the air around her . The cold steel of the surgical instruments chimed together as she randomly shuffled them around the tray in an attempt to look busy. Her reason for being there as unclear as the purpose of the tools in front of her.
‘Please Dr Hudson, call me Ruby.’

‘Und what shall I call you?‘

A voice from behind broke the scene’s routine. It wasn’t that of the distinguished DR, nor did it come from the platinum blond poised in the hospital bed. No, this voice was new to her ears (then why was it ringing of familiarity?)

‘Well,… what shall I call you?’

She felt as if she was moving through water. Everything seemed slowed and muffled.  Tye turned.  There, in the doorway stood a man.  Leaning casually to the right, his shoulder against the door’s frame. He was tall, 6′ or so she figured. His head titled downward and to the right. A brown Fedora shadowed him from clear view. All she could really see was a strong chiseled jawline that implied the face hidden was a handsome one.

‘Lets try again, shall we? What would your name be, pretty lady?’

He straightened and took a step forward. Tye strained to see, her vision coming in und out of focus. His chin raised as he looked directly into her eyes. A chill washed over her quickening her heart’s beat und coating her in fear.

“Tyyye, Breakfast!”  Jane called for the second time but still no answer. “…TYE?”   Why was she not up? Sleeping in wasn’t like her. ‘Wait, was she even home?’ Jane was certain she’d heard her come in last night. Staying out all night wasn’t like her either. There had only ever been a few nights that she had been out to an uncomfortably late hour. But that was several months ago, and she was no longer dating the boy with whom she ‘lost track of the time’. The worry was growing steadily as she made her way up the stairs to her daughter’s room.

“Tye,… Tye Honey…?”   She tapped on the door with one knuckle.  No answer.  She was reluctant to just enter the room without an invite.  Jane tried her best to respect Tye’s privacy but… “…Tye?”   She quietly opened the door. The morning sunlight that illuminated the upstairs hall from a large bay window at the home’s front beamed in through the opening casting light on Tye where she still lay in bed. Hearing a faint cry, Jane was immediately bedside.

“Tye, wake up! Wake Up Hun!”  Tye awoke with a gasp! Sitting straight up in her bed, beads of sweat covered her.
“Oh Baby, come here”  Jane cradled Tye in her arms. Stroking her dampened hair, rocking her softly back und forth as Tye trembled.
“shhhh, shhhh. it’s ok, I’m Here Hun,… I’m here”

~

On the floor, head leaned back against the desk Tom sat in a mental fog. Too much information thrust upon him within mere seconds of opening that file. Only expecting to find his birth Mother’s name, hoping to find a reason why he was there und not with her. Justification for his drive to prove that Krightner had been purposely sabotaging his every placement with a fostering family. Those were the answers he had expected to find, hoped to find.  But this, it was all too much to process.

A loud ‘click’ followed by chimes announcing the time as 2am startled Tom back to his senses. He looked down at the photos in his hand, then to the papers lane across his lap. Two am, the time he had clocked himself to be heading back to his room. It had felt to Tom as if hours had passed. Time seemingly in slow motion for him, he was sure reality had kept it’s standard pace. His plan still on track, he quickly gathered the file’s contents back into it’s folder.  He would have to alter the rest of his mission given the ‘adjustments’ he had made to the desk drawer.  He’d have to leave tonight.  No reason to copy any files now.  This was a small blessing, it would save him some time.  Time that was now needed to make his get-a-way.

The barge known as Bruce began its cruise down the corridor heading to the girls wing of the orphanage. Tom headed in the opposite direction, slipping back to his room file in hand.

With what Tom had selected to take already packed, quite the wad of cash to fund his freedom (saved allowances, und a few donations from his right wing wives), und his records he was set to go.  With absolutely no clue of which direction he should head, or where he’d end up, ‘Maybe, I should pack some eats’, he thought.

Although the commissary was a highly likely place to run into Brucey fruit, Tom knew that by now Big Boy would be settling down for another snooze so he would be safe to gather himself some food for the road. The kitchen and everything in it was locked up each night. Bruce had the keys to everything with a lock at Hill Ridge, and Tom had considered snatching the big guy’s key ring as he dosed instead of obtaining them from the lovely Jessica.  Little woke Bruce once sleeping, but the jingle of keys surely would.  Maybe they sounded like the dinner bell to him.  Whatever the reason, it wasn’t worth the risk and flirting the keys for the offices from some all-to-willing intern was a much easier task. Not necessary for the kitchen though, Tom had a set of kitchen keys himself.  This wasn’t so much a privilege as a necessity since it was he who got up early each morn to prep for breakfast.

Not wanting to take too much time preparing food, Tom went for some quick grabs.  Some fruit, slicing some meat und whipping up a few sandwiches he figured that would do.

“And just what is it that you think you are doing?!”   Tom practically jumped out of his skin!  Like nails on a blackboard, Krightner’s voice broke the silence of the dimly lit kitchen.

“Looks like a pic-nik, not breakfast. Planning on going somewhere?”   He was frozen where he stood.  Her presence was totally unexpected.  He hadn’t even factored this possibility into his back-up plan.  What the Hell was she doing there so early?  It was only 2:45am!  The dinosaur usually didn’t roll her old jalopy into the lot until 5.

If you asked her, she couldn’t tell you her reasons for coming in at such an hour either.  It was just ‘a feeling’ she had.  Tom had seemed just a little too content these last few weeks.  His calm meant her discomfort.  ‘What was going on in that head of his?’  This thought had been giving her one to many sleepless nights (or was it a guilty conscious? Naw, she’d never been bothered with one before).  Whatever it was setting signals off in her head, this time it was enough to send her to her office at an un-Godly hour in the morning.

All seemed the usual upon her arrival.  The halls hauntingly quiet (save Bruce’s chainsaw), all was still.  Her hands shook (they always did) as she grappled for the correct key for her office.  The second she stepped in she knew something was a-miss.  The air its self was different.  Krightner’s office smelt as she did, old und musty with a faint hint of the gardenia perfume she spritzed on each day.  Long gone was her desire to make any attempts to attract a male companion, it was more out of habit und melancholy that she retained that small part of her morning routine.  She didn’t notice these smells, they were too common to her.  What she did notice though was the faint sent of… man.  Someone had been in her office!  Her personal space! And, a man worst of all!  She clicked on the lights und panned the room from where she stood.  The file cabinet drawers were all in scattering degrees of open.  Anger started to build.  There was no question in her mind as to who had committed such an invasion!

“The file!”  Her mind filled with dread!  Had he found it?  Wood splinters cracked under her feet as she stepped to her desk.  Busted wide open und pawed through was the bottom compartment.  Even more shocking was what was left on her blotter.  A photo, or more correctly to say, half of a photo.  A torn remnant of a treasured keepsake.  Krightner’s image was staked to the desk with a letter opener.

“Well,…? Are you just going to continue to stand there like the dim wit that you are, or are you going to explain yourself?”
“I’m,… I’m not a Dim Wit”   Tom’s composure awakened with her insult.
“How dare you! You destroy my property! Go through My things!”
“Your things? Your Things? More like MY things!”  All these years he didn’t even know he had ‘things’.  Now that he did, he wasn’t about to let her continue to claim them.  She stepped towards him, he subconsciously stepped back.  She was furious.  Her skin seemed to be just draped over her bones, ever bit of it quivering as her rage grew.

“Just who the Hell do you think you are!”   These words angered him, and although this was a rhetorical question, he now knew the answer and felt compelled to sound out having now learned it.
“Tom Kaulitz. I’m Tom Kaulitz!”   Krightner burst out with a cackle more wicked then any childhood witch story could ever describe.
“You think a name gives you some sort of power? …”   Tom opened his mouth to respond but she cut him off with her continued rant all the while moving slowly towards him.

“… A ‘Family’ maybe? You never should have been given that name! You don’t even deserve to say that name!…”
“What the Fu -“  he was now backed against the serving counters.  No place to retreat from the battle axe’s assent.
“You have no one! No one wants you! I’m all you have or will ever have!!!”   She lunged at him!
“I have a Brother!”

Silence.  No response.  She said nothing.  She had charged toward Tom with fiery, grabbing at him.  But now, she said nothing.  Her grasp on his over sized T released.  Her body fell limp to the floor in front of him.  Tom just stood there, not understanding what had just taken place.  Did the old bird have a stroke?  A heart attack?  No, couldn’t be that, that requires that one have a heart.  She wasn’t moving.  It was then that Tom noticed that he still held the knife he had used while preparing his food.  Only now, it dripped crimson red.

Panic was slowly seeping its way in. What now?  Surely Bruce had heard the commotion.  He’d be coming any minute now.

“Auh Hell! Scheisse, scheisse, scheisse!…”  He had to stay calm, panic just wasn’t an option. Tom knew that ‘self defence’ just wouldn’t fly. Six foot man, scrawny old bag of bones…  No, no one would take his word of the nights events as fact.
“… ok, ok, ok,… think, Think!”  He paced a few steps back and forth, then stopped.  Looking at the object of all his pain regained his kuhl.

“Old Witch!”   Bending down, he wiped the blade clean with the powder blue wool of her, no doubt hand knitted, vest.  She deserved it.  Well of course she did.  Who gave her the power to decide a child’s life?  To rip them away from a proper upbringing!  Anyone else in his position would have done the same.  Wouldn’t they?  Besides, there was probably a long list of others that were just jonesin’ to sack the old broad.
This was the justification.  Now, … what to do about the body.

Twin Tyes – Chapter I: http://tokiohotel-lovealways.com/?p=2245

If you enjoyed THe 1st chapter, please read on!
– Chapter VI
(comments are appreciated) ; )