Part 5
by Karen Dunbar ([email protected])
Jen's mouth was slack, her eyes wide and unblinking, as she stared. Jack. His skin was pale as bone in the moonlight, his jaw clenched, and his body trembling, yet his hands held her in a grip like steel. And his eyes, wide with fear and desperation, held her more strongly still. She stared into those tear-filled eyes, unable to break away from his gaze. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He just stood before her, in the freezing water, staring into her face, the tears rolling silently down his cheeks lending strength to the intensity of his gaze. Jen could feel the lump in her throat again, her roiling emotions crashing over her in waves, and instinctively she tensed to run. But she couldn't. She couldn't tear her gaze from those eyes. She couldn't swallow down the lump. She couldn't force down her feelings. And she was so tired of trying. She felt the tears welling in her eyes, and this time she made no effort to stop them. She couldn't fight any more. Her face crumpled as she surrendered to tears.
Jack breathed in deeply, his first breath since he had touched Jen. Relief surging through him, he started to pull her towards him at the same time as she collapsed against him, weeping helplessly. Jack folded his arms around her, holding her close against his chest, rocking gently with her. Her whole body shook as she sobbed loudly against his shoulder, gasping for every breath. How could he have left her to go through this alone? What must she have been feeling to make her. He stifled a sob of his own, and thanked a god he had never believed in that he had come looking for her tonight. He tightened his arms around her, needing to have her close. He'd nearly lost her. He hadn't been there to comfort her when she'd needed him, she'd been suffering alone, and he'd nearly lost her. His vision distorted by tears, Jack buried his face in Jens hair and wept.
Slowly, Jen became aware of the coarse fabric chaffing at her cheek- Jack's jacket, soaked now, from her crying. The cloth rubbing against her skin was a small discomfort, and she found that it was outweighed by the comfort she felt in Jack's closeness, his warmth, the rise and fall of the chest her face was pressed against. She was still breathing heavily, but her sobs had subsided, and as she stared out past Jack's shoulder, her view of the moonlit creek was no longer obscured by tears. She was still trembling, though, despite the support of Jack's arms entwined around her. It was support she was overwhelmingly glad of- she had never felt so exhausted in her life, and it seemed to her that it was only those arms that kept her on her feet. Jen's thoughts and perceptions were sluggish, as though she were waking from a dream, and it took her several seconds to identify the sensation in her legs as cold, intense cold. With that realisation memory flooded back, washing the fuzziness from her mind, as she shuddered with more than just cold. She felt Jack shift against her, drawing back a little to look into her face. She met his glance for only a moment, shocked at his haggard and puffy eyed appearance, before her gaze was drawn, seemingly against her will, out over the creek again. Once more she was transfixed as she watched the play of silver across the black expanse, but it wasn't the sight that held her. Her eyes widened in horror as she recalled the night's events, only now becoming real to her. The cold in her legs was from the freezing water of the creek, the creek that she had waded into, seemingly hours ago, with no intention of ever wading back out. She stared, eyes wide, at the water that she had so nearly immersed herself in, unable to take her eyes from it. What would it have been like? a tiny voice inside her wondered. Her breath came in shallow gasps as images and sensations seethed in her mind. Would she have realised what was happening, as the water rushed into her mouth, freezing her inside and out? Would she have struggled against the current that would have tumbled her like a rag doll, dragging her into the depths?
"Jen?" Jack's voice was gentle, concerned, and only just managing not to break, as he turned her to face him. Jen could feel herself trembling uncontrollably, her head spinning, her knees threatening to buckle. She buried her face against his chest as he held her close, stroking her shoulder. "It's OK, Jen, it's OK." She sank into his embrace, letting his gentle hands and soft reassurances soothe her, numbing her emotions, until the trembling subsided. She was still shivering slightly, with cold more than anything- she had almost forgotten they were standing knee deep in the icy creek. Jack had his jacket off and around her shoulders before she'd even registered his movement. "You're freezing. Come on, let's get you home." He slung one arm around her waist, pulling her to him. Slumped against his shoulder, numb with fatigue, Jen allowed herself to be half guided, half carried, towards the bank.
If Jack had thought the journey through the woods hard before, he was having a rude awakening now. Never the most co-ordinated of people at he best of times, he was having a hard time keeping himself from tripping over stones and roots that were at best half seen in the darkness. With one arm still supporting Jen his balance was worse than ever. Several times he had sent them both staggering into the undergrowth, but even when they had both landed flat on their faces Jen had barely appeared to notice. She stumbled along at his side like a zombie, struggling to keep her eyes open, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings. She hadn't said a word since he had found her in the creek. An image rose in his mind- Jen, her face ashen and forlorn in the light of the moon, standing by the water, staring out as if in a trance. That sight had cut him to the bone. With Jen unaware of his presence all pretence at happiness was discarded, and he had seen for the first time just how frightened and desolate she really was. He watched again, as the entranced figure in his mind took that first step into the water, hesitated for a moment, then slowly stretched her leg before her to take another step.
He shook his head briefly, trying to dislodge the scene from his thoughts, the remembered horror and shock. Yet again he glanced down at Jen, tightened his arm around her, reassuring himself 'she's here, she's OK, she's going to be OK.' His eyes were drawn to the congealed mass of blood on the back of her hand- he thought he had managed to hide his concern over that. After the shock of seeing her ready to plunge into the creek that small mutilation shouldn't be so troubling, surely, but it was. Jen didn't react to the tightening of his embrace- her eyes were closed once more, her feet moving sluggishly and purely by instinct as he guided her along the ill defined trail. Her weariness emanated from her so strongly it was almost tangible, and she was stumbling now as often on nothing as she did on some obstacle in her path. Jack stopped, looking around to get his bearings, and Jen collapsed against him, her legs giving out completely. He caught her as she fell, and for a moment she stirred as he lifted her. They didn't have far to go now. Jen cradled in his arms, head resting against his shoulder, Jack started towards the lights gleaming faintly between the trees.
Just a few minutes walk brought them to the edge of the woods, and Jack sighed in relief as he left the trees and the darkness behind for the welcoming glow from Grams' house. As quietly as he could manage, so as not to wake Grams, he carried Jen through the house to her room, and lay her gently on her bed. Crouched at the side of her bed, he brushed his fingers lightly along her cheek, and somehow that slight gesture managed to reach her. She moaned slightly as her eyes flickered open, and looked at him dazedly.
"Jack?" The word was barely even a whisper, but that first word he had heard from her all night sounded wonderful to him.
"It's OK, Jen. You just sleep now." He took her uninjured hand and squeezed it gently. "We'll talk tomorrow." Kissing her tenderly on the forehead, he rose to go, but she tugged weakly at his hand, stopping him.
"I don't want to be alone." Her whisper was so frail it barely carried to his ears, but it was heartfelt. He saw need shining in her eyes, just as clear as the tears that were welling there again.
"You're not alone, Jen," he whispered back, clutching her hand, and giving her a faint smile. She tried to smile back as he climbed onto the bed beside her, but the attempt only emphasised her pain. He pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her again, as she tucked her head under his chin, resting against his chest. Exhausted as she was, she was asleep in moments, breathing rhythmically. Jack looked down at her face, still pale and drawn, but calm in sleep. She needed him, and somehow or other he was going to get her through this.
Grams sat alone at the kitchen table, sipping at the cup of tea that was all the breakfast she could really bring herself to take this morning. Every now and then she glanced at the clock on the wall, while she listened hard for any sign of movement down the hall. There had been none so far, a fact which she was determined to view as a good point. Glancing once more at the clock, Grams briefly considered waking Jen and Jack for school, but the thought was quickly discarded. She set her cup on the table, and sighed deeply as she leaned back in her chair, wondering if her prayers had been effective. It had been nearly 4am when Jack had stumbled in the door with Jen asleep in his arms, and Grams could only hope that whatever had been causing Jen to distance herself from him had been resolved. But it must have been, she assured herself, thinking of the pair currently huddled together in sleep on Jen's bed. That image brought a smile to her face- to think that she would be happy about finding a boy beneath her granddaughter's sheets! The smile faded as she remembered how tired, how exhausted, the two of them had appeared, even as they slept. Whatever had happened last night, they both needed time to rest, and to just be together. Grams glanced at the clock again- 9.05. Capeside High could survive a day without Jennifer and Jack, she thought, as she reached for the telephone.
Daylight streamed thickly through Jen's window, warming her skin, searing crimson through her closed eyelids. She stirred groggily, her eyes opening in slits, squinting against the glare of the Sun, until they adjusted to the brightness. She turned her face towards the window, luxuriating in the warmth, as she yawned lethargically. Shaking off the last vestiges of sleep she became conscious of the arm slung across her chest, the head resting against her shoulder. She felt her first real smile for days spread across her face, as she turned her head to find Jack, snoring quietly beside her. She lay back, relaxed, for this brief time at peace, comforted by the familiar presence sleeping at her side, just watching him as he slept. There was something different about his face, though, Jen thought, and as she studied him it dawned on her what the change was- tension. Even as he slept she could make out tension in his features, a tightness around his mouth, clenching of his jaw as if he were battling demons in his sleep. Her hand reached out to him automatically, to soothe away the stress, but she stopped herself, not wanting to wake him. Last night had been draining for him, and he needed to rest. She threw her head back against her pillow with a sharp intake of breath as details of the previous night came back to her. Her memories were vague for the most part, little more than a dream, but some stood out clearly. Her hand held out before her, beads of blood glistening. The image of the creek, cold and black, silver light dancing, fascinating her, almost calling to her, beckoning her on. And she had gone. Numbly she sorted through the memories, trying to clarify her thoughts, distinguish dream from reality. Her mind had been so muddled, her emotions so tangled, that she couldn't be sure of what had been real. Her hand throbbed painfully as she lifted it to see the bloody scar she had hoped she had only imagined creating. She shifted her legs slightly, and felt cloth, damp from the creek, chafe at her skin. She felt hollow inside as she realised it had all been real. She looked back at Jack, suddenly understanding the tension on his face. Because of her. Because she hadn't been strong enough to face up to her fears. She felt sick with guilt, that she could have done this to him, even as the familiar fear and anguish seethed underneath, but somehow these emotions weren't as crippling as they had been just the day before. Unpleasant, yes, even painful, but not to the point where they controlled her, and although they were with her constantly, she realised she was actually still able to function. Warily, and for the first time since meeting with him, Jen allowed her thoughts to drift towards Terry, and what he had told her. I might be HIV positive. The thought sent a wave of fear and nausea through her, and she could feel her mind instinctively trying to veer off track. Grimly, she focussed her thoughts. I might be HIV positive. I may have contracted the AIDS virus. She forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply, as her fear intensified. Her body was trembling. Tears welled in her eyes, and she let them come, trickling down her cheeks. She was going to face this. Taking a deep breath to steady her, she firmed her voice and whispered, "I might be HIV positive." For all that she had whispered, she had intended her tone to be strong and resolute, but she couldn't keep the fear out, and she heard her voice break as she struggled to force the words past the lump in her throat. She swallowed a sob and tried to fight down the trembling of her limbs, as tears streamed down her face. Hastily she swung her legs off the bed, intending to head for the bathroom so as not to disturb Jack, but his hand on her arm stopped her. Startled, she turned to see his face, full of concern, but relieved as well, tears standing unshed in his eyes.
"You might be HIV positive, Jen. And you might not. But either way, I'm damned if I'm going to let you go through it alone."
As he washed off the muck from the previous nights' immersion in the creek, Jack's emotions were whirling. Jen's acceptance of her situation had come so suddenly that his mind had barely registered it at first, drowsy as he had been when he woke. It had taken a few moments for him to actually realise what she had said, but when her words had sunk in the relief that had surged through him had been overwhelming- for a few brief seconds he had felt almost like shouting in exultation. But those words hadn't come easily for Jen, and for the second time in as many days he had held her while she cried like a baby, hurt and terrified. More than anything in the world he wished he could take that fear and pain from her. He knew something of both, remembered well the sense of agonised hopelessness he had experienced having watched his brother die, then his mother slowly lose touch with reality. No-one should ever have to suffer like that, and especially not Jen.
By unspoken agreement they hadn't discussed anything once Jen's tears had dried- she was too worn out, wanting only to rest against his shoulder. Talking would come later, he was sure of that now, but for the moment she needed him to just be there for her. That was something he could do, he thought, as he pulled a clean t-shirt over his head, and headed for her room.
He knocked quietly on her door, not really wanting to disturb her, but not wanting to leave her on her own either. She had seemed a lot calmer after she had cried herself out, but the image of Jen wading into the creek was too fresh in his mind for him to be comfortable being away from her. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she had thanked him for being there last night, for stopping her, and though he didn't doubt her sincerity, he knew it might only take one moment of desperation for it to happen again.
"You can come in, Jack," Jen answered his knock.
He pushed open her door to find Jen, half dressed, bent over double towelling her hair. She gave him an uncertain smile as she looked his way. It didn't quite reach her eyes, but it didn't seem to pain her as last night's attempt had. He smiled back at her, determining to keep the atmosphere light for now. "Hey. Feeling better?"
"Oh, God, yes!" Her cheerfulness sounded rather forced, but Jack was happy just for her to be talking to him. "After several bouts of intense scrubbing I finally managed to get the mud off my skin- I tell you, Jack, whoever decided that mud is a good beauty treatment was severely delusional." Apparently satisfied to leave her hair damp, she threw the towel to the floor, and as she dragged a brush through her curls Jack noticed that the gouges he had seen on her hand extended a fair way up her arm as well. He blanked his face- it wouldn't help Jen to see how concerned he still was about her. She glanced at him hesitantly as she realised he had seen the wounds, waiting for him to comment.
He could see by her expression that she really wasn't ready to talk just yet, so he restrained himself. "I guess you'd better wear long sleeves today." He made his voice dry, and even managed to twitch his lips in a smile. The smile she returned was relieved and grateful, a silent "thankyou for not judging me." For the first time in days, Jack thought, that smile looked genuine. She rummaged through the clothes strewn around her floor until she found a suitable sweater, with sleeves dangling over her fingers- Jack recognised it as one of his own. "Oh, that's nice. You're not content with throwing me in the creek, now you're stealing my clothes as well!"
She turned her standard impish grin on him, only slightly forced. "By my reckoning you owe me a top, since you refused to dry clean the one you ruined last weekend."
Jack couldn't help but grin back- he'd missed this mindless banter, and Jen's willingness to joke, however feebly, had to be a good sign. "The matter of dry cleaning may be open to negotiation. As long as I get my sweater back."
Jen put on an exaggerated thoughtful expression, "Hmm. Let me think about it. I kind of like this sweater, you know."
Rolling his eyes, Jack reached out for her hand. "Come on, thief, let's go get something to eat." Her smile became fixed as she nodded reluctantly. "It'll be OK, Jen," he said gently. "Grams won't try and push you to talk, you know that. And if she's let us lie in 'till this time on a school day, she must be in a pretty good mood. Besides," and now he firmed his tone, "I'm starving." He grinned at her encouragingly as he squeezed her hand, and was relieved to see her smile timidly back.
"OK," she sighed. "Let's go."