Dynamics of a Human Heart Ch. 07

"We beat up hockey players?" the blonde girl laughed, "Cool!" Then she noticed the looks she was getting from everyone else and promptly settled down.

"What do they want?" Miranda asked quietly, not daring to look Doctor Vega in the eye.

"They require a scapegoat, Doctor Inoue, so that they can at least appear to be able to enforce their policies to those who are invested in the school's future."

"Meaning the money people," Sam spat, "What's their policy regarding rape and murder?"

"I am told by the head of their athletics department that 'an internal investigation' is pending."

"Meaning 'nothing'."

"Meaning 'nothing'."

"Fuck that!"

"Why?!" Isabel asked in an anguished voice.

"Do you want the truth, Isabel?"

"Jesus, Ceran, yes, of course."

"Because Mr. Hillgrove's father is one of the largest donors UCLA has. And because the men responsible for these crimes have won four state championships and at least one division championship," he sent a sideways look at Sam, "This has brought the school a tremendous amount of money and support."

"These fuckers get to buy their way out of this?!" Sam yelled.

Doctor Vega fixed her with a calm look until she settled down, "Without proof, the school is unwilling to launch any kind of public inquiry; they're worried that it would tarnish the reputation of the school and their athletics department, which is one of their prime sources of income and a fair amount of donations."

"There has to be someone over there willing to help," Luke broke in, "Ceran, I've been to UCLA. There are good people there, some of the best years of my career were there, and they're decent people."

Isabel nodded, "They have some of the most socially progressive programs anywhere. For God's sake, they've got a relationship with The Center for Men and Women that goes back years; they offer training, seminars, grants, counseling, even security when needed."

"I know, I've adapted several of their ideas for use here," Vega replied.

"Then why the hell are they doing this?"

"'They' aren't, Professor Amarel, you must understand, this is not official. This is not the work of UCLA as an institution. This is a private matter involving a very, very, small faction within the school that in no way represents neither it, nor those who associate themselves with it. It is a faction that has influence in many departments, not just athletics," he scratched his beard, "This is not a case of 'dumb jocks', this is a matter of privilege and--."

"Politics," Luke added quietly.

"Correct, Professor," Vega replied.

Miranda hung her head and began to cry quietly; everything was falling apart and it was all because of him.

Sam was too wound up to notice, "Okay, hold the Goddamn phone here, what exactly do they want? Jail?"

"No, for incarceration, a very thorough and thus, very unwanted, investigation would be necessary. Those involved prefer that this be settled quietly."

"Meaning they don't get their hands dirty."

"Yes."

"Fan-fucking-tastic."

"What are these people asking for?" Miranda said quietly.

"Your dismissal from Cal-Tech as well as denial of tenure now or in the future. You would essentially be black-listed with this school and any school affiliated with us."

"Fuck you!" Sam burst out and Professor Vega slammed his fist onto the table.

"Enough!" he roared, causing everyone to jump. His face had taken a flushed color under his beard as he ran a shaking hand through his hair, "Do any one of you truly believe that I'm happy about this? That I'm being forced to strip one of our best and brightest of her rightful accolades to appease a band of thugs with deep pockets?"

"If it bothers you so much," Sam seethed, "Then don't do it."

"Is that an option?" Luke spoke up as Isabel was trying to catch her breath, "What happens if we don't do what they want? You just said they don't have official sanction."

"They don't now," Doctor Vega explained, "but they can rent some, if you take my meaning."

"Oh, fuck me," Sam groaned.

"She goes, I go," Isabel said quietly.

"As Isabel goes, so goes my nation," Luke added.

Sam fixed the President with a level look, "What do you think?"

"I think that Doctor Inoue is very lucky to have people like you in her life," he replied, "And I would join you, were I in a position to do so."

Miranda sniffled and wiped at her eyes, sniffling.

"Thank you, all of you."

"There is," President Vega began haltingly, "an alternative."

Everyone's eyes suddenly lit up.

"What? What is it?" Sam demanded.

Vega folded his hands on his desk, "The man leading this...I suppose 'witch hunt' wouldn't be totally inaccurate, is Jeff Hillsgrove's father, Edward Hillsgrove.

"Wait a second," Isabel cut in, "Wasn't he one of those assholes who threatened to sue after you dissolved the A.C.R.?"

"He was certainly the loudest and most fervent," Vega shook his head, "A bully and a liar in private life as well."

"Like father, like son," Sam growled.

"You mentioned an alternative?" Miranda interrupted.

"I did. Out of all the events that have transpired, the one that is causing the most antagonism was Jeffery's mutilation at the hands of your friend," he paused for a moment and plowed on, "in addition to being a particularly gruesome act, it was seen as a direct insult and a point of humiliation. This is not something the Hillsgrove family will let pass."

Sam felt a growing dread in her stomach, "What are you suggesting?"

"If you cooperate with the authorities and assist in the apprehension and incarceration of your friend Grey, that should be enough to appease them and you can keep your positions."

"No!" Sam yelled.

"Fine," Miranda said quietly.

Sam snapped her head around, "What the fuck?!?"

"I said 'fine', we'll cooperate."

"Like hell!" Sam whirled to face the President, "What'll they do to him?"

"I won't lie to you; it'll be bad."

"How bad?"

"The Hillsgrove's are wealthy, Doctor Adler, and their associates even more so. They'll all fall in line behind them to 'make an example' out of Mr. Grey.

Sam was beginning to have trouble breathing, "How?"

"It's an election year, Sam, and prosecuting the man who castrated the son of one of the upper one percent would result in a great deal of votes and campaign contributions. Convicting Mr. Grey would earn him the gratitude of the people that your associate has made an enemy of. That gratitude can practically guarantee reelection for as long as they wish."

"So, what, they send him to prison for the rest of his life?" Sam sputtered, "That's....that's..."

"The best case scenario," Luke spoke up, suddenly sounding very tired.

Sam jerked her eyes up to him, "What do you mean?!" she demanded.

"You are aware that California still practices the death penalty, right?"

Sam's heart skipped a beat, "No, nononononn, fuck that, that's murder in the first, that little shit is still alive, they don't gas you for that."

"Given the nature of the injury, it could be argued that it was 'attempted murder'," Luke replied, "You said it yourself; he knows anatomy, he could have been aiming for the femoral artery and just missed and got his balls instead."

"Technically, I didn't say that," Sam hissed, turning a baleful look on her lover. The other girl just sat there, "but still, 'attempted' murder isn't shit."

Isabel sighed and spoke up, "Sam, who passes sentences?"

"Judges, why?"

"And after a judge is appointed, how do they maintain their title after their original term is up?"

"Through elect...," Sam squeezed her eyes shut as a pain lanced through her, "Oh fuck me running."

"As I said," President Vega said quietly, "A man with no money, no ties, probably a transient, were he to be 'made an example of', few people would care and it would earn a lot of support by those who consider themselves the wronged party.

"I would care," Sam whispered before shaking head, "No, fuck that, they can have my resignation, I could give a damn. Where do I sign?"

"No."

Everyone looked at Miranda.

"Miri?" Sam whimpered.

"I said 'no'," she cleared her throat, "If they want him, they can have him," her eyes were rimmed in red and tears stained her face, but her voice was steady.

"Miri, are you crazy? They just got done saying they'll try to execute him!"

"He has it coming."

The shock in the room was palpable as Miranda tear-stained violet eyes with President Vega with a hollow stare.

"What do I need to do?"

"You bitch!!!!!"

Sam launched herself at the other girl and they both crashed to the ground.

"Why?! Why?! Why?! You hateful, ungrateful spoiled bitch!!" Sam pummeled the other girl who just simply lay there, unmoving with an empty gaze.

"Sam, that's enough!" Isabel yelled as she nearly vaulted over the table to pull her off.

Sam dug into her pockets and threw a fistful of spare change in Miranda's face, "Here's your thirty fucking pieces of silver, fucking Judas."

"Doctor Adler!" President Vega shouted as Luke and Isabel pried the girl off Miranda.

"Let me go, I'm going to kill her!" Sam roared, struggling mightily against the other adults.

"Sam, stop, you'll break something!"

"Fucking 'A' I will, I'm hoping for this bitch's jaw!"

"Enough!" President Vega physically separated the two, shielding Miranda from Samantha's rage whilst Luke and Isabel secured her back into her chair.

"God damn, for a girl that's supposedly 'handicapped', she puts up a hell of a fight," Luke commented, breathing hard from the effort of grappling with the girl, "She should try out for varsity wrestling, she'd make a killing."

"Bitch...," Sam hissed.

"Enough," Doctor Vega repeated as he helped Miranda up: she was bleeding from her nose, but otherwise looked unharmed.

"He saved our fucking lives, Miri! He nearly got himself killed because of it. He gave us the means and resources to help me walk again!"

"So?"

Sam broke down then and began crying; hard painful sobs.

"Miranda...," Luke said. She fixed him with a dead stare that chilled his blood.

"Why are you doing this, Miri?" Sam sobbed.

"It's complicated."

"'It's compli--?!'," Sam couldn't finish and continued to weep.

"I believe," President Vega said quietly, "that this conversation should be held in private. He moved across the room and opened an adjoining door to reveal a conference room. "Here, this should suffice," he turned to face the others, "I believe you'll have the privacy you need to resolve this matter here."

"Provided they don't kill each other," Luke added grimly as the girls moved into the empty room and closed the door behind them.

Then it was just Sam, Miranda, and the atrocity that had become their lives.

"Why, Miri? For God's sake, why?!"

"It's compli—"

"Don't you fucking dare say 'it's complicated'!"

Miranda just looked down at her hands.

"Help me understand, one moment you beat the hell out of the guy responsible for hurting him, your exact words "This is for Grey!"."

"Yes."

"And now, you're going to throw him under the bus."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I want him dead."

Miranda's mouth sagged open; this was not her Miranda.

"'Dead', are you fucking serious? So he yelled at you and shoved you around a bit, yeah it was a dick move, but you did a pretty good job of provoking the hell out of him, and even if you hadn't, this is still not worth killing over."

"It is to me."

"Why the fu--?"

"Because I hate him!!"

Sam jumped back in her chair. Miranda's face was twisted by anger, grief, and pain and transforming her into a person that Sam did not know, and was not entirely certain she wanted to know.

"I hate him Sammy; I hate him because he makes me weak."

Sam felt a maelstrom of feelings flooding her; smashing her heart against her ribs, like a ship thrashed against the ocean in the heart of a tempest. She felt the rage pounding in her veins, her head hurt, her heart hurt, and all she wanted to do was to hurt the person responsible.

All of these things and more passed through her consciousness in the heartbeat following Miranda's words.

Miri...

"'Life is a storm, my young friend!'" Sam cried out.

Miranda stopped dead as the other girl licked her bee-stung lips and shouted at the top of her lungs.

"'Life is a storm, my young friend! You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes'."

The dark haired girl looked thoroughly confused as Sam plowed on,

"'You must look into that storm and shout as you did in Rome. Do your worst, for I will do mine! Then the fates will know you as we know you: as Albert Mondego, the man!'"

Sam grabbed Miranda's hands and pulled the girl to her, placing her pale hands on her chest before folding her own hands over them.

"I am yours, Miranda Inoue. I am yours completely: in body, in heart, in mind, and in soul. I shall always love you and I shall never abandon you," Sam felt tears pushing their way past her eyes and could say Miranda was enduring the same.

"So, I say unto you, Miranda; my life, my love, my joy; no rocks shall shatter my love for you, no storm shall drown my love for you," her voice caught, "S---So, do your worst, for I shall do mine!"

She released her grip on Miranda's hands and cupped her porcelain cheek.

"And the fates shall know you as Miranda Inoue, the keeper of my heart and soul, now and forevermore."

A pained wail served as the only herald as Miranda's last font of strength was spent and she collapsed into Sam's arms.

"Oh God, Sam, I'm so sorry!" she cried.

"Shhh, none of that, Getseui," The other girl replied.

A short half-laugh, "Does that mean you're still my Toraaneko?"

"Then, now," Sam kissed her head, "...and always."

Miranda ran her hands up the blonde girl's back and clutched at her fiercely.

"Thank God," then she wept again bitterly, "How can I even begin to ask you to forgive me?"

"The bravest, kindest, and most amazing person I've ever met, once said something I'll never forget,

'Forgiveness is granted because it is needed, not because it is deserved,'" Sam pulled away gently, placing a finger under her lover's chin; bringing her shimmering eyes to meet her own,

"And you need to be forgiven."

The Asian girl's lower lip began to tremble as Sam ran her fingers through her hair and caressed her moon-kissed face.

"'You can remember things like hope, compassion, and mercy. To help you become who you were meant to be'."

"And who am I meant to be, Sammy?" Miranda asked as her eyes took a distant stare that spoke of a terrible loneliness.

"Oh sweetie," Sam cooed as she cupped her lover's face in her hands and once again looked deep into her eyes, "don't you know?"

Miranda just stared; her eyes raw and aching.

Sam leaned over and captured Miranda's mouth in a kiss; slow and sweet, a thing of astonishing purity that cleansed the spirit and healed the heart.

They parted and Sam leaned towards the girl's ear to answer,

"You were meant to be mine."

The dark-haired girl slumped against her lover as Sam's words absolved her and freed her of a terrible burden that felt like it had been there for a lifetime.

"'Dark have my dreams been of late...'" Miranda whispered, "I know your face."

Sam grinned lopsidedly as Miranda gently touched her cheek and kissed her palm. She pressed, nuzzled against her hand, "'Breathe the free air again' my love."

Miranda giggled, "Pretty sure that's not how it's supposed to go."

The girls were both fanatics for all things Tolkien; it had been something they bonded over when they were first getting to know each other. It always reminded them of happy (though simpler) times and both were perfectly aware of this.

"Did it make you happy?" Sam asked quietly.

"It really did."

"Then that's how it's supposed to go."

Miranda exhaled and then took a deep breath letting the free air fill her veins and calm her mind.

Exhaling again, she said, "I think I need to get some things off my chest."

"Is it going to be that shirt?"

Miranda laughed then and smiled; really smiled after what seemed like ages, her teeth were bright as stars and her eyes danced with the violet sparks of genius and love that Samantha adored so.

"I need to get this out. I shouldn't have been holding it inside," she sighed, "I tried to hide it Sammy, I thought it would be the end of us."

"It nearly was," Sam said gravely before giving herself a mental shake, "But things are back on track now. I'm not sure what happens next."

"Now," Miranda began, "Now, there are some things you need to know."

"About damn time."

"I think I might be fixated on Grey."

"What do you mean 'might'?"

Miranda shot the girl a dirty look, but she remained unfazed and finally Miranda hung her head.

"Yeah, okay, I guess I've earned that."

"You guess?"

"Shut up sweetie and let me do this."

Samantha snickered but complied.

"I can't get him out of my head; he's like a cancer--."

"Stop," Sam interrupted, "Give me facts, not opinions. The less you either demonize or glorify the man, the easier this is going to be deal with."

Miranda considered that and nodded, "Okay, I can work with that," and Sam gestured for her to continue.

"It started the first day I met him," Miranda sighed in exasperation at the memory even as a smile seemed to creep unbidden to her face, "God, he was such an arrogant ass: in our first meeting, he knocked me over, made me drop all my stuff, and then proceeded to shout insults at me."

"But?"

The Asian girl's smile began to widen, "But he was so...intense. He seemed larger than life, just raw and unapologetic," she sent a sideways look to Sam; "I've never known a man like that."

"Yeah, I hear your mother keeps your fathers spine, balls, and brains in jars atop the mantel."

"Crude, but not incorrect," Miranda laughed humorlessly, "It's ironic: she comes down on me for not 'honoring my heritage' by refusing to conform to whatever stereotype she thinks Asian women should emulate, but in the kind of 'traditional marriage' she idolizes, she'd be beaten into paste."

"Hey, if anyone is going to beat your mother into goo, it's going to be me," Sam replied, "But we can suss out your mommy issues later. Continue with Grey."

Miranda inhaled deeply and exhaled, "He was the first example of masculine strength I've ever seen: confident, aggressive," she colored slightly, "and attractive."

"And it put the hook in you?"

"Like a sword fish."

"Nice analogy," Sam frowned, "Wait a second, you've had a boyfriend before."

"Yes...," Miranda drawled, "And he was very...nice."

"Wow, okay it sounds like Grey has this guy beat on the 'manly man' scale."

"Actually, you have him beat as well."

"Ouch!" Sam winced, "What did you see in him, the ex I mean?"

"He was nice-looking and he treated me well," Miranda shrugged unhappily, "And he said he loved me."

"Meanwhile the guy you're actually attracted to made his first impression by body checking you and yelling at you while you were lying wounded on the ground."

"Uh-huh, do I sound pathetic?"

"Worse; you sound lonely."

"That sounds accurate."

"Did you love him, the other guy?"

"I don't know," the other girl sighed.

"Okay, that means 'no'," Sam fixed a level look at her,

"Do you love Grey?"

Miranda opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again before slumping.

"No," she replied, "Love is a two way matter, like a Mobius strip; it feeds into itself and is infinite," she cleared her throat, "Love is an open heart, and his isn't. I do not love him. I am obsessed with him."