Tolerance Book III

Chapter Forty-Three: Guilt

The Manhattan at Times Square Hotel

His mind distracted with times long since passed Jay hadn't even realized he'd wandered into Times Square until he found the three star hotel which offered the sanctuary he was desperately in need of. He knew he'd be in receipt of a phone call soon and wanted to be able to honestly say he had found somewhere close by to stay. Well aware Voight might opt for ordering Mouse to track his whereabouts he had decided to be transparent and hope his request to be left alone was honoured. He had also decided to ask that Will not be made privy to his new temporary residence. The room on the tenth floor of the 7th Avenue address was spacious and nicely decorated in earthen and blue tones but all that went unnoticed by the young man as he tossed the gear bag on the floor inside the door and discarded his jacket. He felt restless. So many thoughts were running through his head and he paced in front of the king sized bed trying to regain some semblance of his normal composure. He needed to be able to convince his friends he would be alright on his own and being rattled would not accomplish that task.

Corridor Outside Voights' Suite

Conor had unceremoniously hustled the redhead out of the suite brushing aside the arguments to their departure with a promise they would be close by and would return shortly. Will had eagerly gone with his friend anxious to avoid the daggers being sent his way every time his eyes contacted with the Detectives and IT Specialist. Out in the wide corridor he frowned when the Surgeon tugged his arm to stop him moving away.

"We're staying here."
"Why?"
"Because I just told them we'd be close," Conor reminded seriously as he gestured to the closed door behind them.
"But ....,"
"Will what were you thinking?" the Surgeon cut to the chase, it wouldn't be long before Voight returned and he needed answers.
"I only wanted to talk to him ....,"
"You should have waited till he was back home at least."
"This case he's on could go on for weeks, months even."
"Doesn't matter. Coming here was out of line."
"I didn't really think it through," the taller man reluctantly conceded, he had as usual just forged ahead without contemplating the repercussions.
"That excuse won't wash with Voight," Conor warned ruefully then persisted, "try again."
"I told you ...,"
"Will there's something else you're not saying."
"Okay! I feel bad about what happened to Jay growing up! Is that what you want to hear?!"
"I know that," Conor frowned, "he's your brother. It's only natural."
"No, you don't understand!" the redhead raised his voice in frustration, sending a furtive glance to the closed door.
"Well then explain to me what I'm missing."
"It's ...... it's my fault ....,"
"What?"
"What Dad did .... to Jay ...," Wills' words were forced out in a reluctant whisper.
"How could it have been your fault?" Conor questioned.
"I was always so stuck in books and off enjoying myself with my friends ....," the redhead sighed, "I never paid attention. If I had ...,"
"You're not responsible for what your father did. You were a kid yourself," the Surgeon insisted quietly, he had told his friend this before.
"I should have known."
"Hindsight is cruel," Conor offered sincerely, "you're looking back from the vantage point of not only an adult but also a Doctor. The knowledge you have now would have shown you the red flags back then but you didn't have that at the time."
"I remembered .....," Will began casting his gaze to the floor as his words halted.
"What?" Conor urged, he sensed there had to be a specific reason that had spurred his friend to come with him to New York.
"One of the photos ...... showed ......... Jays' broken fingers," the redhead grimaced before continuing in disgust, "I recall him saying his fingers were jammed in a kitchen drawer."
"And?"
"Don't you see? He told Mom and myself that and we just took it that it was an accident. He actually said 'they were jammed in a drawer' not that they got jammed like an accident! He actually told us what had happened and we didn't listen! Dad jammed his fingers in a drawer!" Wills' eyes stung as tears formed.
"Damn," the black haired man shook his head, momentarily at a loss for words.
"That's why I had to come," Will admitted softly.
"To find out if Jay was actually trying to tell you what was going on?" Conor checked.
"Yes."
"You asked him?"
"Didn't get a chance. He saw the photo and took off."