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Donnie frowns at the sound of a phone ringing in the kitchen. He looks down at the cell in his pocket and realizes it’s not his—it’s Alison’s—her normal phone, not the burner she has for emergencies. He walks over and stares at it—restricted number, maybe it’s important, but he can’t help but wonder why she left that thing here.
Reluctantly, he glances at the screen once more and sighs. At least it’s not Connie calling to check in—that number is in her phone as three exclamation points. It's part of the fallout from Connie not taking the whole clone thing well, or, really, taking it at all.
“Hello? Alison’s phone,” he answers, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. If this isn’t important she is going to kill him for answering her phone.
“Oh! Hi, Donnie, how are you?”
Crap. He knows who that is; he just can’t put a name to it off the top of his head. He thinks for a second and then it comes to him—Sarah Stubbs, without whom, Donnie may never have learned about clone club. He should thank her; buy her a bottle of—a fruit basket. He should buy her a fruit basket. Right.
“Oh—hey, uh, Sarah, right?”
“Yes—we’ve met a few times,” Sarah agrees, confused.
“No, I know, uh, sorry. Ali’s phone sometimes comes through as blocked numbers.”
“Oh! Well, that’s unfortunate.”
“Yeah, I know—so, ah, what’s up?”
“Is Alison there?” Sarah chirps into the phone and he smirks to himself. How had he ever gotten friend Sarah and sister Sarah confused? Friend Sarah doesn’t terrify him—Sister Sarah, however, she is frightening—and British! “It’s kind of an emergency."
“Um, well, no—she’s got some vote thing," Donnie interrupts, stumbling over his words as he eyes some artwork on the counter. He’s not sure if it’s Gemma’s or Helena’s, but he’s going with Gemma. It’s easier to think the finger paint job isn’t his wife’s sister’s handiwork.
“Oh. Okay, well, I guess I can tell you, then?”
“Sure,” Donnie agrees, picking up the bit of artwork and tacking it to the fridge. It couldn’t be that big of an emergency, maybe the community theatre was in a bit of a jamb between plays. He can handle this—he’s Mr. Fix It these days.
“Okay. I was at work today and you know, this girl came in crying and said she had nowhere to go. So I was about to have my social workers take her to a shelter, but I realized that she looked exactly like Alison. You know—except for the hair—“
Oh. Oh shit. Not the play. Nope, not the play at all.
“Does she have a sister named ah, Krystal?”
“Umm,” Donnie starts as he runs through the list of clones Alison’s provided him. Yeah, no. No Krystal on that list.
“Oh! Bad falling out?”
“I… guess so?” His voice rises as he ekes out the response to Sarah’s question. So much for Double-Oh-Donald, and his hot Bond babe who is also his wife.
“Well, I guess I mean, I could send her to a shelter, but you know, Alison is so nice that I’m sure she’d forgive her—“
“Um, well.” Crap. What is he supposed to do here? The only other clone he can consult is Helena and she’s out back practicing karate with the kids. Well, practicing with Gemma, at any rate. Oscar is still scared of Auntie Helena after the Very Serious Chat she gave him about being nice to his sister.
Donnie doesn’t want to know what threats were levied. Plausible deniability—and it had the added bonus of Oscar doing his chores without complaint. He can be the cool dad again.
“I mean Alison’s been so nice to me, even when all the other moms—“
“Yeah, that’s our Alison,” Donnie interrupts, aware Sarah is laying it on heavy for a reason. Only she’s quiet for a few seconds, as if she’s expecting him to take the lead.
“So what you want me to do with her?” Sarah asks finally and Donnie runs a hand over his mouth. He doesn’t know, well, he knows, but Ali isn’t going to like it.
“Oh! Right. Um, let me go hunt down Ali and I’ll let you know.“
“Okay, yep! I will just uh, tell her we’re working on it and have one of my staff take her information, general paperwork—just in case there is an issue. But she’s really sweet. I like her, so I think whatever happened between them, she's changed! And family is so important—“
“Oh, okay, yeah. I haven’t met uh this one—her. I haven’t met her,” Donnie stumbles over his words, and he’s pretty sure he sold it well. “I’ll talk to you in a bit.”
Donnie hangs up the phone before Sarah can get in another word and picks up his cell, dialing the number on the burner. Krystal needs them, but first, he has to convince his wife.
“Hi Honey—“
“Donnie? Is everything okay? You know I have a vote today,“ Alison rushes out, all flustered. He’s so proud of her, wife’s first official trustee business, and of course, clone business is about to get in the way.
Family first. Well, clone family, anyway. Both their parents can uh, wait. His family still isn’t over the whole intervention thing—and Alison has sworn to skip Christmas this year from the embarrassment. He’s totally on board with that plan. Yeah. Best to just forget all the things that happened during the whole monitor fiasco.
“Yeah, yeah but Sarah called—Sarah Stubbs,” Donnie says after a second. He’s kind of giddy about it. This could be a whole new frontier for them. Team Hendrix: Clone Savers.
There’s a whole new realm of music for the bedroom with that plan. And this time, they’ll lock the door. And if it goes well, Double-Oh-Donald is back on the table.
“I don’t see what that—“
“She met one of your sisters—a new one,” Donnie interrupts before she gets going about the proper use of the blue phone versus her real phone. He knows better than to point out that the only reason he’s calling the blue phone is because she’d left her real phone home.
“F—fantastic, frickin’ fantastic. What did she say?”
“She asked if you had a sister—“
“And what did you say?”
“Nothing!”
“You need to call Sarah—the other Sarah,” Alison barks into the receiver. They have to find a better way to differentiate the two of them. They both have brown hair, so that’s out, and technically, they’re both friends.
“What? Why?”
“So she can deal with it.”
“Uh, no—that is not a good idea,” Donnie points out. “She came into Sarah’s work—she’s in her office.”
“Christ on a cracker, Donnie,” Alison sighs.
“It isn’t my fault, honey! She showed up there—in tears with nowhere to go.”
“She’s not a puppy, Donnie. You can’t just adopt her.”
“What?” He doesn’t want to adopt Krystal. They’re full up with Helena and the kids and Helena’s kid on the way and at some point, the neighbors will talk. Well, more than they already talk, at any rate.
“Sarah can just—pretend to be me,” Alison explains. “We’ve done it before. And she’s much better at it than Cosima. Did you know that she had me call myself a lesbian?“
“What are you talking about?” Donnie asks before he can stop himself. “Cosima called you a lesbian? When? At the speech?”
“Technically, it was a lesbian supporter, which I am—but, never mind that,” Alison brushes him off, but he’s both intrigued and confused. He’ll have to ask more about this later. “Back to the point. Sarah can cover for me and take care of this.”
“I know, but—“
“Yes, Donnie?”
“Sarah called us. Come on, Team Hendrix can totally handle this,” Donnie pleads. He needs this—he knows Alison likes to keep clone life and real life separate, but he’s going a bit stir crazy from all the soap now that there are no drugs to hide in them.
“Handle what?”
“Letting a new one in. You know, initiating them, it’ll be fun!“
“Do you even know her name Donnie?”
“Um, actually, yes. Her name is Krystal and she needs us—“
“She does not—“
“Yes. She does. And you know you want to do it.”
“I do not want to do it," Alison snaps, but it’s half hearted. Good, he knows that sound well enough by now to know that she is totally in, even if she refuses to admit it.
"Yeah, you do. It's been a little boring since we got out of the biz."
"Alright. Alright. Fine," Alison huffs into the phone, and he knows that her hand is pressed down, palm facing the floor. "I need an hour. Our kids come first."
"Of course, I'll call Sarah back and let her know."
"No! Don't call Sarah!"
What? He has to call Sarah. Sarah has Krystal, and she’s an integral, if completely ignorant, part of this whole plan.
"But, she's waiting for me to call her back about Krystal, honey."
"Oh, Sarah Stubbs, of course," Alison clarifies. "Yes go tell her we'll be there soon."
“Ok! See you in a bit. Love you,” Donnie rushes out and hangs up. Once the phone is back in his pocket, he pumps his fist and then makes the necessary arrangements. Team Hendrix is back and better than ever.
###
They’re sitting outside the parking lot of Sarah’s work and after rejected a few approaches Donnie thinks they’ve finally settled on a plan. Well, a plan that doesn’t have a plan, actually. They’re going to wing it. Go in together and just drop the clone bomb.
It’s going to be awesome.
"Are you sure about this Donnie?" Alison asks as they’re about to exit the minivan, and he knows that their you’re a clone, drop the mike plan is in serious jeopardy.
"She's your sister, Ali," Donnie answers without answering. It’s the safest response.
"I know, but," she sighs and puts a hand to her face. "If we do this there, Sarah's going to know."
"I thought you liked her."
"I do, but, can we trust her?"
"You think she's a uh Freaky Leekie?" That is what Felix calls them, right? Or was it Neolooney? All these code names and keywords, it’s hard to keep track. "Have we figured out what we're going to do when they find out we have their Jesus in our third bay?"
"Donnie! Don't talk like that. And the technical term is Neolutionist," Alison huffs. She looks so hot when she gets that tone in her voice--most men wouldn’t like it, but that’s why most men don’t have a hot wife like Alison.
"Fine, honey. Do you think Sarah is a Neolutionist?"
"Well, no, but—"
"Okay, so here's what we'll do. I will go and pick her up, and then we'll put her in the back seat and lock the doors and just, float it to her in the van," Donnie interrupts. They can’t back out of the whole thing now, not with Krystal chilling with Sarah Stubbs, but they can improvise.
"You want to tell Krystal she's a clone in the minivan?"
Okay, yeah, maybe that’s not the best place, but what else can they do? Plus child locks mean she can’t leave.
"Well, it's either that or Sarah Stubbs finds out and—"
"You're right. Go get Krystal and we'll tell her the whole clone thing in the car," Ali sighs and he beams at the two best words in the universe—you’re right. Of course, they’re not as good as the five best words in the world, I want to be nasty, but they’re right up there.
"It can't be any worse than how I told Sarah, the other Sarah, about us."
Oh, shit. She’s done this before? She’s a seasoned professional? Sarah was with her when Alison dropped the clone thing on him, so that didn’t really count, but this—Ali has done the whole initiation ritual before?
"Wait, honey! You initiated Sarah into clone club? You’ve done this before? I thought this was something we could do together."
"We are doing it together, Donnie. Now go get Krystal, please," she snaps and unlocks the van door. Well, that’s his cue, and it’s show time.
Maybe that’s why he feels like he’s about to crap his pants.
###
Sarah Stubbs meets him at the entrance, her beret tipped to the side and her hands animately waving at him to slow down and talk to her. Oddly, she reminds him of Cosima in the way she moves. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to tell Ali that or not. Probably not, it would weird her out to know he compares her friends to her sisters—sestras—whatever.
"Oh good, Donnie, you came in alone."
"What? Why?"
"Um, Krystal is having some kind of psychotic break. She claims she doesn't have a sister," Sarah explains, her tone hesitant and unsure. “And she keeps insisting that her last name is Goderitch, not Hendrix.”
"What?"
"I know! It's the strangest thing! So I was going to tell Alison to wait in the car, because it's clear Krystal isn't doing well."
"So what are we going to do? Ali is really worried, Sarah," Donnie asks. That’s not entirely a lie, it’s more of a fib, and they can’t just have an unaware version of Ali’s sisters roaming about. One false move around Charity and the whole neighborhood will think Ali is unfit to serve as School Trustee.
Maybe this is Marci’s grand plan. Maybe Marci is a neolutionist. They need to talk about this later.
"Well, she doesn’t have any identification on her, and so I was thinking we could just fib a bit and pretend you're a um worker set to transport—"
"Sarah, none of this is legal. You won't get in trouble, right?" Donnie interrupts, suddenly concerned with the lengths Sarah is willing to go for Alison. Everyone needs a friend like that.
Well, Helena did kill for him. Maybe Helena is his version of Sarah Stubbs, with a bit more peroxide and a lot more blood.
"Um, well, I won't tell if you won't."
Okay, then.
"No, of course not. I just don't want you to lose your job over this," Donnie agrees. He doesn’t want her to lose her job, that would just be awful. And he would feel bad. Unlike the time he threatened that cop and Vic—that was bad ass.
"I'm the director of the center. Alison's like a sister to me, so, I do what I can."
"Well, we really appreciate it, Sarah. Once Krystal is feeling better, we should get dinner some time, our treat. Ali and I owe you that much."
"Oh! It's no trouble. But that would be nice," Sarah beams. "Okay, so, I'm going to introduce you as Don and you'll be taking her to a women's home. The less you say the better."
"Sounds good,” Donnie agrees. Not talking, he can handle that. He follows Sarah down the halls and into a conference room of some kind, where a blonde version of Alison in a skimpy dress stares at them through mascaraed eyes. Oh, Alison isn’t going to like this one. Not with her bra peaking out of the top.
Wait, are her boobs bigger? Is that a science thing or is that a surgery thing? He shouldn’t think that—not after the Big Boob Blowies fiasco. All he needs is a handful. Yep, Alison sized.
"Hi, Krystal, how are you?" Sarah asks, looking genuinely concerned for this clone’s well being.
"Oh, you’re the director, right? Like, your staff is all confused. They keep asking me about a sister named Alison and I don’t have a sister,” Krystal sighs, exasperated.
“Right, sorry Miss…”
“Goderitch,” she chimes. “Krystal Goderitch. I just—I am so confused right now, and I think there has been some major mistake.”
“Well, that’s what we’re here to fix, Miss Goderitch,” Donnie says before he can help himself. Shit—so much for being the strong silent type.
“Oh, hello. Who is this?” Krystal asks, looking him over with wide eyes and a matched pair of arched eyebrows. Alison does a version of that look sometimes when the kids do something she doesn’t like.
Sarah glares at him—yep, he screwed up there and misjudged. Yep. “Krystal, this is my ah, associate, Don. He manages a private facility.”
“Oh no, I have had like enough of private facilities, thank you,” she flicks a stray piece of hair off of her face and examines her nails. “Like, I was in this creepy hospital that isn’t a hospital and there was a thing in my nose and I couldn’t see and I am sure that you are a really sweet guy, but I am not into uh, Dad bod.”
Wait, what?
“Dad bod?”
“Oh! I read it in a magazine. Like, there’s this trend where you know, women are into guys who are softer and like I totally can appreciate the aesthetic, but I just—“
He isn’t soft—he’s strong, like a baby ox, hell he killed Leekie and threatened the police. He’s hardcore, like a cool dad, or a hot dad. Helena said so, and considering all the men she’s killed in her previous career, that means something.
“I don’t have a Dad bod.”
“It’s not an insult. You’re like, old school strong or whatever. Sorry, I didn’t—”
“Um, well, anyhoo, Krystal. Don is here to take you to his facility,” Sarah puts an end to this whole thing. Thank god. “ It’s the only placement we could find on such short notice, and without any identification—”
“I don’t need identification! Can’t I just pull up my facebook or my youtube channel? I give great manicure advice! I have like almost a hundred subscribers.”
“Wow, that’s very impressive,” Donnie observes. He has no idea if that’s a good number or not, but if that little shit Justin Bieber can get famous off of it, maybe she can too.
Wait, maybe that’s a terrible idea. If she gets famous and then all these others—crap. How will his mother take this?
“Thank you!”
Krystal at least seems to appreciate the praise. Good, earn her trust first, then shoot down the internet video star thing.
“Um, unfortunately, we need something a bit more official,” Sarah stammers. Right.
“Oh, okay, I guess. I swear, that evil doctor like stole everything,” Krystal sighs, and the start of a few tears shine in the corners of her eyes. “Strange things keep happening to me.”
“Well, hopefully, this is the end of that,” Sarah sighs, clearly as confused as he is by all of this. Kept in a creepy hospital with an evil doctor. Considering the only evil doctors he knows are dead, none of this makes sense.
“That’d be nice. I used to trust people, you know? Be an optimist, but lately, it’s just so hard. So I guess I am saying, to both of you, please don’t like fuck me over. Because I am like totally sick of being fucked over by both creepy guys and guys who thought they were nice guys,” Krystal sighs and Sarah Stubbs inhales sharply through her nose at the comment. She’s squealing a bit, as if she’s a kid who just caught her mom cursing and it is amazing.
The closest Ali has ever gotten to saying fuck was one time when she said eff it four times in one day.
“I mean, this one guy, Frederick, Felix, Philip? It must have been Philip—”
Felix? This one met Felix? That had to be a total coincidence. There are no secrets in clone club. Well, other than the body in the garage, that is—right?
“—he came into the salon about a week ago and was like totally cute and totally hit on me.”
Ok, maybe it was some guy named Philip, Donnie thinks, meeting Sarah’s gaze and realizing she was thinking the same thing for a second. Felix wouldn’t just hit on some random girl, considering he is into guys. Crap, he’s zoning out again.
“He was the last decent guy I met before my latest drama. He said I am a survivor, but, like, life should be about more than just surviving, you know?”
“So, Don, I am trusting you. Because I want to like see the good in people, but I have a few questions.”
“Okay, sure, shoot,” Donnie answers. Questions about Casa Hendrix. These things he can totally answer.
“Does your facility like have private rooms?”
“Well, ah, yes. But you would have full access to the common areas. If you want.”
“So, I won’t be like, chained to a bed?”
“No?” Wait. What the hell? “Were you, uh, chained to a bed?”
“Umm, kind of—”
Sarah makes a coughing sound in the back of her throat and Krystal turns away from him, startled. But he wants to know more about this chained-to-a-bed thing. Alison might be next, and that cannot happen. “I can assure you, Miss Goderitch, my associate runs a very family oriented facility.”
“So there are other people there? Like I won’t be abandoned?”
“Yes there are other people there—what, ah, happened to you?” Donnie asks, softer this time. Seriously, this is getting up there on the creepy meter with some of Helena’s stories about her life before she had a family and a new mom. Connie almost seems like paradise in comparison.
“That’s just it! The family doctor who found me said I was in a medically induced coma and to wait for her in this hotel. Only, it’s been a few days and she hasn’t come back, so, here I am.”
“That’s horrible!” Sarah and Donnie say in unison, both slightly protective of her, if completely confused.
“I know. She said her name was Doctor Beraud, and she would be back when she could, but I was sick of waiting and like, terrified, that someone would find me. So here I am,” Krystal finishes, waving her fingers in front of her face as the tears trickle down her cheeks.
Team Hendrix needs to get to the bottom of this, or at least give her a fresh start.
“Well, we’re going to get you situated and back on your feet. Right Don?”
“Uh huh. That’s the plan. If you want to come with me, that is,” Donnie says, trying to respect that Krystal has to agree to come with him.
“Well, like, what choice do I have, right?” Krystal sighs, but it seems less desperate than a few minutes ago. At least Donnie likes to think so, that they have some amount of trust.
He just kind of wonders what her opinion is of twins. Or, you know, clones.
###
They make it out of the facility without a lot to say to one another. There’s only so much he can really say without dropping the clone bomb on her and he’s not a great liar, so, silence is a good thing in this instance. However, as they make their way through the parking lot, Donnie realizes that he has to explain the minivan. Crap.
“We had to put the ah, car in for service, so my wife is waiting in the van,” Donnie starts and Krystal turns to him, her eyes softening.
“Oh!” Krystal mouths, her shoulders are less tense, and she’s starting to warm up to the idea of going with him. “The director wasn’t kidding when she said that it was a family affair. What’s her name?”
“Aliso—Alissa,” he corrects himself before it’s too late. She’s already said she doesn’t have a sister named Alison, so that’d have been bad. “She goes by Ali, though.”
“That’s a pretty name,” Krystal smiles, her eyes soft, and her face lights up. She’s totally buying this.
Donnie feels slightly uncomfortable. The one unifying thing amongst Alison’s sisters is how weary and tired they all are. So to see this level of trust from this girl makes him feel incredibly guilty. Sarah keeps them out of most of it, he knows, but he’d never expected to have his kids threatened. Twice. Hopefully she likes having a big family, or that grin is going to go away pretty quickly.
“So why don’t you get on in to the back seat and we will be on our way?”
“Okay!” Krystal smiles and gets in the back seat. Donnie hits the child locks as he hops in—you can never be too careful.
“So, Donnie? How did it go?” Alison asks as they both get in, Krystal isn’t really looking at them, at least not from the angle he’s got from looking in the rear view mirror.
Here goes nothing.
“Honey, this is Krystal.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Alison smiles and turns toward the back seat, her arm outstretched.
Krystal’s eyes go really wide, and her skin is paler than before. Okay, not so good with twins. Crap. Alison’s brow furrows and Krystal tries to make a few sounds, but they don’t really come out all that well.
Yeah, Donnie knows this feeling.
“Holy shit,” Krystal finally gets out and then flops over to the side. Oh, oh no.
“Did she just faint?” Alison shrieks, her eyes narrowing at him and her lips thinning out as she gives him the look. He hasn’t seen the look in a month and thirteen days. He’s been counting!
But the look is not good. The look means he’s so, so incredibly, well, fucked. And not in the good way.
“Um, I think so?”
“You think so?”
“No. No. I mean, she did. But she’s been through a lot. There was something about being strapped to a bed and an evil doctor, and she said Felix’s name, but that can’t be right.”
Alison sighs heavily. Well, the look is off of her face in favor of general annoyance. That’s a start. Maybe Team Hendrix won’t be sitting with one starter on the bench, or, uh, couch, tonight.
“Of course she doesn’t mean our Felix. Donnie, did you prepare her for this?”
“No! I didn’t know I was supposed to ease her into it. You didn’t tell me that part!”
“For Pete’s sake, Donnie,” Alison huffs, her hand to her mouth. “Go check to see that she’s still breathing.”
“What? Why?”
“To make sure she’s not dead.”
Well, when she puts it that way, yeah, okay that makes sense.
“I am going to call Felix and have him come and clean up this mess.”
“What? No. Honey, no. We can save this, come on,” Donnie pleads. He doesn’t beg, he just, you know argues in support of this plan. “And why aren’t you calling Sarah?”
A little misdirection, that’s never hurt anything. And it does the trick, because Alison’s eyes are so wide he can see more white than brown. So, angry sister Sarah frightens Alison, too. Another thing Team Hendrix has in common.
The serial killer is absolutely the far less frightening of that twosome.
“Sarah can’t know about this! She’ll kill us if she finds out!”
“Oh, right. She’s breathing,” Donnie observes, watching the Krystal’s chest rise and fall from the rear view mirror.
“Thank the lord for small miracles,” Alison says. “This is just poorly handled all around.”
“We can fix it.”
“How, Donnie?”
Um, yeah, about that. Alison’s always been the planner, he is just the implementer—well, no, that’s Ali, too. He is the supporter, emotional supporter, and videographer. He made a great video for the campaign. Everyone said so.
“We’ll just take her back to our place and then sit her down and explain everything—”
“—with Helena running about?”
Oh, so Alison’s not as convinced of Helena being the safer of the two twins, after all. Well, she hasn’t had as much time to get to know her, running the campaign and all.
“Helena’s harmless… when she wants to be.”
Alison’s eyes are getting bigger—right. That’s an important thing to consider, how Helena defines family and her do not kill list these days.
“Well, we can’t stay here, so we’ll go to the house,” Alison says after a minute and pulls the car out of the parking lot.
Donnie knows not to say anything during the ten minute drive to the house. He’s already pressed his luck and instead he thinks about how this is going to be great when it’s all resolved.
Clone Savers. It’s totally happening, even if Ali doesn’t know it yet. They can take Bubbles and go international, like a secret anti-neolution network of sisters. No one will ever know.
And he can be their Bosley.
The car pulls into the garage, and Alison parks it with an expectant look on her face. Suddenly, his Bosley plan isn’t going along as well. Reality, right.
“So what do we do, honey?”
“This was your bit of adventure,” she returns. Well, the punting to the authority figure didn’t work either.
Bosley Hendrix it is, sweet!
“I know, but, we should wake her up, right?”
Alison inhales through her nose. Donnie knows that’s officially the wrong thing to do. Great.
“Go, Donnie, and make sure that the kids aren’t within hearing range. We don’t need their friends’ parents starting rumors, hmm?”
This is the brush off. Crap. No, no, this is a Team Hendrix mission, not an Ali saves the day, day.
“What? No, we’re doing this together. Right here.”
“In the garage?”
What’s wrong with the garage? This garage is where the magic happens. All magic, all the time. This is the perfect place for this little clone club initiation ritual to go down.
Donnie knows better than to say that, however. Instead, he decides to go with a vaguer approach. It sometimes totally works with Ali. A whole twenty percent of the time. “It’s not the worst thing that’s gone on in here…”
“No, you’re right. Rudy left quite the mess to clean up. At least that awful man is useful for something. I’m not sure why Sarah agreed to work with him after what he did—“
“Honey! Can we not talk about Ferdinand? I’m not sure when our uh, guest, is going to wake up,” Donnie says, trying to play it cool. It’s just, Ferdinand felt up his wife and tried to kill their family.
You can’t compliment a guy like that. It’s just not cool.
“She’ll have to learn that life as a clone isn’t all sisterhood, dinner parties, and peculiar accents at some point, Donnie.” Alison turns toward him and smiles. “Although that baba—ethnic cake of Helena’s was delicious.”
“I know! I was expecting meat and it wasn’t that at all. It was better.“
“Did you just say clone?” Krystal shrieks, shooting up from the back seat. “Wait, is that why that guy at the salon said clones when I told him my two biggest fears were twins and clowns?”
“Oh, shit.” Donnie shrugs when Alison glares at him for cursing. They’re not around the kids, it’s okay. And Krystal is totally not paying attention as she’s gone full tirade.
Yep, not ok with the whole twin and clone thing. At all.
“You did, didn’t you? I—I am a clone? How is this possible? This isn’t like possible! Oh my god am I getting punked? Like since Ashton isn’t doing a lot these days, is he bringing it back and am I the first contestant?”
“Krystal, hi,” Alison interrupts and Krystal whips her head toward Alison, and suddenly he can see a bit of his wife in her glare. She is pissed.
“Listen, Alissa. If that’s even your real name—“
Alison looks bewildered, and yeah, maybe he should have told her that part of this whole thing before. But there wasn’t exactly, you know, time.
“Alissa? Who is—“
“Sarah Stubbs had her staff ask Krystal about her sister Alison. So, I kind of told her that your name was Alissa so she’d get in the car,” Donnie explains. It was a solid plan.
“Donnie!”
Okay, maybe not.
“I didn’t know what else to do, Ali!”
“Oh my god, this isn’t a joke. You’re Alison. You’re my like, sister? My clone? But those bangs, oh my god, like, we need to—how are your nails? I don’t mean to be rude, I just, I—you know—“
It goes to a big crying mess from there. Donnie is completely useless when the kids cry, so another woman with Alison’s face bawling in the backseat is way above his pay grade. But he does feel really, really guilty.
Maybe this is why Sarah handles the clone business. All the tears, all the guilt.
“Krystal, sweetie, you need to breathe,” Alison whispers, using the same voice she uses for Oscar and Gemma when they get a booboo. Right. Alison. Alison is with him. She handles the tears.
This is good. Alison is excellent at this. Wait, why is she opening the door? What is she doing?
“Honey, what are you—“
Alison shushes him and slides into the backseat next to Krystal. He inhales sharply, the blood rushing through his ears nervously as Alison inches closer, until she’s next to Krystal, rubbing awkward circles into her back.
A few minutes in, Krystal isn’t pulling away. That’s why Ali is the one who handles the tears. She just knows what to do.
“You know, when I found out about all of this, I was a mess,” Alison says after a while. Krystal’s sobs have dropped down and she’s on the mend. It’s like when Oscar broke his arm a few years ago, before he was this tough guy. Cry first, calm later.
“What?”
“Oh, yes. I started taking pills and drank so much I fell off of a stage on opening night of my musical—“
“Oh no, that’s like, so embarrassing.”
“Well, it wasn’t my finest hour. But I got through it,” Alison smiles and gives Donnie a subtle nod that he catches. Yeah the bed is in his future, now, not the couch. Sweet.
“How?”
“Rehab, mostly,” Alison shrugs and Donnie catches the way her eyes drift to the freezer. Yes, that freezer will never get thrown out—he wants to build a shrine to that thing and write a letter to GE and thank them for saving their marriage. “But also instead of seeing this as something to fear, along the way, I realIzed that these women—and the people who know, they’re my family.”
“I don’t have a family. My mom died when I was eighteen and my dad wasn’t you know—around.”
“Well, now you do.” Donnie says, with a reassuring grin. He’s trying.
“Mmhmm. But this whole clone thing—it’s dangerous. Sarah and her mother keep us out of most of it, but we are part of an illegal experiment,” Alison explains.
“And Helena, too, honey,” he adds. Helena is an ancillary player for Team Hendrix at this point. She deserves to be mentioned by name, considering Krystal will probably meet her sooner rather than later.
“Yes, of course. Helena as well—“
Krystal looks at them both, finally without tears in her face. Ali can do anything, really. “How many of uh, these clones, are there?”
“We don’t really know. Cosima thinks there are probably a few thousand, but only four, well, now, five, of us know, So you have to keep it a secret,” Alison says and Donnie knows she’s off by one, but doesn’t mention it. Rachel is a conversation for a different day.
“I am like, really good at secrets,” Krystal starts, then pauses for a second. She looks upward and to the left, like she’s thinking. Then she runs a hand across her shirt, smoothing out invisible wrinkles. “Umm, maybe not. I tend to like process out loud so I guess—I can try.”
“Yeah, no processing without any of us present. There’s been some shit, lately,” he adds, oh, crap, did he say that out loud?
“Donnie!”
“Honey, didn’t you just say—“
Alison shushes him. He knows better than to argue with that.
“Wait, what shit? Like this creepy guy with a scar attacked me, Rudy? Do you know him?” Krystal asks, eyes wide.
They look at each other for a second and he’s not really sure what to do here. Ali also seems somewhat lost. Well, then. This is a new avenue for Team Hendrix after all. Back when Sarah didn’t know things weren’t this screwed up.
Their silence is all Krystal needs to confirm the answer to her question. “You do know him. Okay, so like, this is why all this weird stuff has been happening to me, right?”
“Well, we don’t—“
“Rudy’s been uh, taken care of,” Donnie interrupts, before he can think better of it.
“Like, killed?”
Krystal looks relieved by that bit of news. Okay, time to go with it. Clone Club Bosley: Locked and Loaded.
“Yeah. In the garage—“
“He threatened our family—“
“In your garage?” Krystal shrieks, interrupting Ali and looking out the window and assessing the room. She turns back toward him with a newfound respect in her eyes. Oh, oh shit. She thinks that he killed Rudy. “That is like, so badass—and here I thought you were like just a dad.”
He opens his mouth and starts to deny it, only for Ali to put a hand on his shoulder. Wait, so she’s giving him the credit for Helena’s handiwork? Really?
Alison unlocks the door and steps out, her hand extended for Krystal to take. “Why don’t we go inside, hmm? Donnie you go and check on the kids and I’ll take her, okay? It seems we have a lot to talk about.”
This time, Donnie doesn’t argue. Sister business.
###
It’s a few hours later when Alison comes strolling into their bedroom. She looks oddly relaxed, if incredibly exhausted, and Donnie doesn’t want to press for details. Well, he does, but he also wants to sleep in bed tonight. Plus, he’s drained from hours of forcing the kids and Helena to help Daddy at the store.
Helena enjoyed herself—and the pizza he ordered from the place down the street. Oscar didn’t say one rude thing all afternoon—so he’s warming up to Auntie Helena, finally. At least that's what he's going with. It sounds so much better than Auntie Helena had to intimidate him into it.
It also lets him ignore the years of therapy they'll all need. But after that couples retreat he's not so into the thought of professional help. They get on just fine by themselves. As a family.
Gemma, of course, adores her aunt. Sometimes, a bit too much. But he doesn’t ask questions about some of the things she tells him—keeps the nightmares at bay.
Alison yawns and sits next to him on the bed. “That went well, I think. Krystal is all settled in and wants to meet Helena in the morning.”
“See, babe? Team Hendrix can handle this stuff.” Donnie smiles at her, and Alison coils into him.
“I suppose. We need to call Sarah in the morning—let her know about what Krystal’s told us. I didn’t ask for details, but if she met Rudy, she has had quite the adventure.”
Well, that’s the understatement of the day.
“Yeah and all that stuff about being kept prisoner in a hospital. I feel bad for her,” Donnie adds.
“I do too. Maybe we can help find that house painter who gave her that lovely compliment,” Alison suggests and Donnie turns toward her.
Did he just hear her right? She wants to do more clone shenanagans? More missions for Team Hendrix?
Are Double-Oh-Donald and Bosley still on the table?
Play it cool, Don-meister.
“It did seem to mean a lot to her,” Donnie adds, his insides turning into knots at the prospect of brightening this girl’s day.
“And we did find Jesse—“
Yes they did! And while it seems that he and Helena are doing whatever version of Ukrainian mating rituals Helena is most familiar with, he does like this type of mission the best.
Donald Hendrix: Doctor Love.
Wait, they can start this right now. Yes! It makes perfect sense.
"Oh, honey! I told Sarah we should do dinner some time. As a thank you." Donnie interrupts and Alison furrows her brow in confusion for a second, before realizing he means friend Sarah.
"That was sweet of you."
Ali doesn’t understand what he’s getting at. Okay, time to go for it.
Donnie traces his fingers gently up and down Alison’s arm and she looks at him with a complacent smile on her face. "And I was thinking—is Sarah single?"
"Yes, why?" Alison asks, trying to parse out what he’s getting at as she yawns a bit louder this time.
"We should bring Scott," Donnie says, his whole body trembling with excitement.
"Cosima's Scott?"
"Uh huh," Donnie grins at the confused look on her face. "I think they make sense."
"You little schemer," Alison grins back, her whole face lit up into a smile. Much like it was when he’d suggested finding Jesse for Helena and she’d spent the next few days combing through internet sites while he made phone calls.
Everyone should have what they have. What they’ve fought for and made it back from.
"But I'm your schemer," he whispers into her ear. Alison moves closer and smiles against his mouth.
"Come here, Donnie,” Alison pleads and presses her lips against his. “Team Hendrix needs a private victory party."