Together

137. Not whatever

Quiet
-This Will Destroy You

Do you ever feel like you've just heard a loud noise at close range? Like a gun shot went off near your head and now all that's there is a ringing in your ears that just gets louder and louder and louder before it starts to feel like you should scream?

That's what's it's like inside JJ's body right now.

The second Darcy said she had news about his mom it was like tendinitis in his ears dialed up to an eleven. His vision starts to blur a little as she continues talking, saying things that he knows he should probably be listening to, but he can't really focus right now.

What did he just hear?

His brain scrambles to throw it to the front of his mind, plucking the words from the void they were floating from. She said she has news about his mom. She has information on his mom. Knows something about her.

That's important.

"My mom?" he asks, wanting confirmation that he wasn't making shit up in his head. When Darcy nods his response is instant. "What do you mean?"

Darcy looks at him, a puzzled expression on her face, and it becomes obvious that he's missed parts of the conversation that would have answered that question.

From beside him he feels Kie wrap her other hand around the one that's holding hers, like she can sense that he needs someone to ground him. To bring him back to earth. He didn't even realized he was still holding her hand, feeling more out of body every second that passes. His grip tightens slightly as he waits for his answer.

"Yes, I've received word from her."

"Received word?" he repeats, looking like he's tossing the phrase around in his head. "What does that mean?"

Clair apparently had reached out to the Department of Human Services after JJ turned eighteen. To say that Darcy was surprised to receive the call would be an understatement. It was a largely exhausting day for her, and she almost didn't pick up the phone when the secretary patched the call through to her extension in the large group office.

"DCS, this is Darcy," she answered, trying to keep an annoyed tone from not being able to leave on time, out of her voice.

"Hi, my name is Clair," the woman started. "I am hoping you may be able to help me find my son."

Darcy's face softened. Her heart always went out to parents that are missing their children. She's had to remove children from homes that do not have an adult present when she comes to the door to check on their safety. Often it's due to parents struggling with substance use.

She wonders if this woman's son was picked up and she was concerned about his whereabouts when she returned. That's at least better than some.

"Can I have your full name?" she requests.

"Oh, um, right," the woman stumbled a bit. "Clair, Clair Dalton."

"What's your son's name, ma'am?" Darcy asked, holding the receiver between her ear and shoulder while she scrambled for a pen and paper after searching her data base and coming up with nothing open for a Clair Dalton.