DONAVAN

Chapter 7: Back In The FBI

I was lead into the police station. My parents were waiting for me. My Father was fuming. He shouted at me until he was red in the face.

"Jason! What the hell were you thinking! You hauled off and freaked out then you left. How the hell did you start the car? I had the keys. Now your here at this goddamn police station and your going to be here for a long time! Unless you want to be sent to a metal hospital, which I thing would be a good idea!"

"I'm sorry, alright! If you didn't want me around then why the hell did you say yes when I called? I'm having a hard time adjusting to being back home."

He went to speak.

"No, don't. If you wanted me gone all you had to do was say the word. I would of left. Left and not looked back. It was clear when you two started to argue that I needed to leave. I left and then you drug me back home!"

The cop still had ahold of me and he went to speak.

"I think with the circumstances here, that you, Jason, should be stay here. Just until you're back on your feet." The cop said.

My Mother hadn't said a single word. Tears rolled down her face.

"Mom, I-I'm sorry. I'm trying to change. I've stopped drinking, haven't I? I'm not doing drugs anymore either. I-I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Don't make a promise you can't keep, Jason." She said, her voice filled with hurt. She turned and walked off. My Father gave me a glare and turned to follow her.

The cop lead me to a cell. A question kept bugging me. Why didn't he arrest me before now? Once to the cell I was given a orange jumpsuit. I changed and tossed my clothes to the cop.

"I'll be back to check on you." He said.

"Why didn't you arrest me before now?" I asked.

The cop gave a sigh and hesitated to answer.

"Because you remind me a lot of my brother. He was a war vet and before we knew it he was too far gone. He'd only been home six months and he committed suicide...."

The cop struggled to keep his emotions under control.

"I'm so sorry...I...."

"Don't be sorry, Jason. He's in a better place." The cop said, giving a wary smile and soon walked off.
*****
That night I paced my cell. I couldn't sleep. Truth to be known I missed home. I missed my parents. I had hurt them both and I couldn't take it back. I laid on the makeshift bed and my thoughts drifted to the war, my men and Danny. I had put them through hell and I couldn't get them out. Truthfully, I was one wrong word away from a mental break down. As an FBI agent I learned to hide my feelings well. Sometimes the ones who knew me well had a hard time telling my mood. Danny used to say that all I had was sarcasm and a gun. He was right. Sarcasm was the name of the game sometimes.
*****
"What are you doing?" Danny laughed.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You're wearing a damn suit, tie, and fucking dress pants. We're going to war, not to do their damn taxes!"

"Listen, these are my work clothes and if you don't recall I'm entitled to wear what I damn well please." I teased.

"No,no, no, Jase. You need a uniform and lucky for you, I might have an extra in your size."

"This is ridiculous, Danny."

"You look like you're going sit down and do their taxes. You wouldn't last a day by yourself and you need me to protect you, Jase."