Post by Beth on Oct 13, 2007 22:25:55 GMT -5
I wasn't really sure if I should continue this or not. I'm not totally happy with it, but this is what I got. Enjoy!
Amanda sauntered into the living room, flicking the gray dish soap off her hands. She patted them on her jeans trying to get the slimy feel of cold, food-laden dishwater off of her hands. “Yuck!”
“They do have a dishwasher here you know.” Jonathan couldn’t help but laugh at the expression of disgust on her face.
“Not for the big pots and pans they don’t. And I suppose you think this is funny.” Jonathan’s wide grin was all she needed in response.
Amanda came after him, hands outstretched. Jonathan tried to move out of her path, but couldn’t get off the couch in time before she pounced on him. She playfully wiped her hands on his shirt. “Okay, okay! I give.”
“That’s right you give. That’s what you get for not helping me with the dishes.”
“Hey, I tried to help you earlier. But that stuffing was beyond help.”
Amanda feigned hurt from her position atop Jonathan, but it was short-lived. “Okay, I’ll admit...it was a little well done.”
“A little,” Jonathan teased. “You could have broke a window with that.”
Amanda playfully jabbed him in the ribs. “Oh, you are so dead.”
Jonathan let out a short laugh. “I am, am I?”
Amanda went in for another shot, but her hand bearing her weight slipped and her face wound up inches from his. She could feel his warm breath on her skin, sending a pleasant electric tingling across the nape of her neck and journeying down her spine. Feelings that she thought she had long since buried, bubbled to the surface.
Their eyes locked as Amanda brought her face closer to Jonathan’s. The heat was unbearable. He reached in and gently brushed her lips with his. Amanda returned the kiss hungrily, sinking down into it. He cupped her face, continuing to kiss her.
Her long chestnut hair fell down and Jonathan lovingly stroked it back. Their lips met once again, but Jonathan pulled back a little. “Amanda...”
Amanda put a finger to his lips to silence him. “Let’s not talk. Let’s not think about it.” She rained kisses down his chest beginning to crumble his resolve.
“I don’t want to hurt you again.”
“And I don’t want to hurt you. Do you care about me?”
“Yes,” he whispered into her ear. “I care about you very much.”
“Then you won’t hurt me.” She could read the hesitation in his eyes. “I want this. I want you.”
“I want you too.”
Their bodies surrendered to the intense desire, causing their breath to come in short, quick gasps. Amanda slowly unbuttoned his shirt as Jonathan slid his hands down her bare shoulders. She shivered in anticipation at the touch - his touch. She arched into him as he reached up to meet her.
Their lovemaking was a frenzied tangle of arms and legs, leaving them breathless on the floor. Amanda gathered the blanket closer around her. Despite the heat from the fireplace, she felt chilled without Jonathan’s warmth.
He gave her a small smile. She entwined her fingers with his. “That was...”
“Yeah,” he exhaled. His failure to elaborate sent a blip of concern across Amanda’s radar.
“Are you okay?”
He shifted his weight until he was facing her. He traced the line of her jaw with his index finger. “Yeah, I’m great.” His smile widened. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty darn good,” she smiled slyly, running her hand up and down his arm.
He kissed her shoulder tenderly, working his way up to her neck and then reaching her mouth. Amanda savored the taste of Jonathan’s lips on hers. She pulled back, breathless once again. “If we’re going to go further, maybe we should take this upstairs.”
Amanda glanced out the window at the first gray streaks of light. Holiday or not, the house would be waking in a couple hours. Jonathan turned his head, seeing the breaking dawn also. She raised a good point, he admitted to himself.
Jonathan got up quietly, gathering the sheet around him. He offered her his hand as he led them up the stairs. Everything about this night had felt right, but in the back if his mind he couldn’t help wondering what he had gotten himself into. But more importantly - what had he gotten Amanda into?
**************************************************************************************
Amanda had fallen asleep in Jonathan’s arms as the clattering of dishes began to ring out from below. Jonathan had fallen asleep shortly before that, but she had lain awake a bit longer enjoying the closeness as she listened to his steady heartbeat and watched the even rise and fall of his chest..
She held onto to him trying to wipe the images of over a month ago out of her head. They flashed like lightning through her mind. It had terrified her even thinking about the possibility of losing him. She had denied her feelings for too long, and she was determined to not let that happen again.
Amanda contemplated all this as she drifted off. It was a blissfully restful sleep, mostly dreamless until she heard faint whimpering that she fuzzily connected to her old dog Harold. It wasn’t uncommon for her to dream of him from time to time. Usually, those dreams included her dad, too. Those dreams were bittersweet.
The soft cries took on a more human nature. Amanda realized it wasn’t coming from her dream but the man that lay next to her. She studied Jonathan’s face in the gloom, half-hidden by the pillow and an arm that seemed to lie at a protective angle. His brow was furrowed and his mouth scrunched up so that he looked to be in pain.
Amanda’s hand wavered in mid-air, unsure whether to wake him or not. She watched, hand frozen above his shoulder, the cries continuing but not worsening. She settled on stroking the side of his face, trying to smooth out the lines that darkened his otherwise handsome features. He nestled his head into her hand, appearing to relax in his sleep.
Amanda sighed. Although she had slept with Jonathan before she had never actually spent the night with him. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was a common occurrence or just the stress of the past few weeks showing itself. There was no telling with Jonathan. The ghosts that haunted him weren’t the kind that only showed themselves in the dark of night.
She kept a watchful eye on him the rest of the morning, the incidence never repeating itself. And when he finally awoke, he appeared to have no memory of the event. Amanda didn’t mention it, intending to keep it to herself for the time-being. There was no sense worrying both herself and Jonathan over an isolated incidence. Right?
**************************************************************************************
The lights twinkled and danced on the trees outside the department store. The wind whipped fiercely until the snowflakes were flung sideways, biting into their cheeks. Their breath plumed in front of them, disappearing as they stepped into the warmth.
“Remind me why I let you drag me out in this weather,” Amanda shivered, shaking the snow from her hair.
“Don’t be a Grinch. It’s Christmastime.” Jonathan stuffed his gloves into the pockets of his leather jacket and brought his hands to his mouth to warm them up.
“I’d rather be sipping hot chocolate by the fire with you.”
“That is very tempting.” Jonathan pulled Amanda into him. “But....I need to buy gifts for Spike and Emma first. Spike is easy, but I really need your input when it comes to Emma. I’m not really up on what’s cool for four year old girls.”
“What about this girl? Any idea what she might want?”
Jonathan appeared to give it some thought. “Well, that depends. Have you been naughty or nice?”
“Very, very naughty.” Amanda’s lips met his.
“Oh, isn’t this nice? The booty call and the psycho boy.”
The snide remark could only have come from one person. Amanda pulled back from Jonathan and glared in the direction of the disruption. “Back off, JR.”
JR gave her his best smile. “No, really. I’ve heard charity begins at home. Tis the season for giving and all that.”
“You got something to say, Junior? Say it to me. Leave Amanda out of this.” Jonathan took a step towards him. True to form, JR took a half step back.
“Some things never change. You’re still a psycho freak, Jonny boy.”
“And you’re still an asshole.”
“I thought you gave up on this place after I had you thrown out for impersonating Santa. Ya know, a normal person?”
Jonathan voice lowered to just above a whisper. “I’m not into ruining people’s Christmases like some people.”
“No, that was your old man’s job wasn’t it?” JR grinned, internally pleased with the reaction it elicited from Jonathan.
“That’s enough! You just crossed a major line, JR,” Amanda warned, stepping in between the two men.
Jonathan gently pulled Amanda back. “Don’t. It’s not worth it.” His shoulders slumped, as if weighed down by the painful memories.
JR chuckled and feigned concern. “Are you feeling a little homesick, Jonny? I could give you a couple bruises - really make it feel like Christmas for you.”
“You’re a jerk!” Jonathan’s head snapped up in time to see Amanda give JR a powerful shove that sent him toppling back into a display. The Christmas tree teetered for a moment before coming to rest at his feet.
Jonathan stood transfixed by the fallen tree. It was a scene he was all too familiar with.
“Look what you made me do,” Patrick sneered at him.
Jonathan stood dumbfounded at the ravaged tree. The wrapping paper was ripped and torn on most of the presents in the meager pile. He knew they were only for Erin, but it still made him sad. His lower lip quivered.
“Here come the waterworks. Look at the little crybaby.” Patrick grabbed him roughly by the arm and shoved him in front of the dirty, cracked mirror. “Look at him!”
Jonathan stared back at his image. Every time he tried to avert his eyes, Patrick shook him until he turned his head frontwards.
“You make me sick. Clean up this mess you caused.”
Jonathan kneeled down amidst the destruction and began fingering the broken ornaments. He winced as he caught the sharp edge of one with his finger.
“Hurry up! You’re as slow as you are dumb.”
Jonathan was at a point where the words didn’t hurt anymore. He was just....numb. He grabbed a trash bag and scooped the mess up as best he could. When his dad went to go grab another beer he snuck out the back with the trash.
He dumped it in the trash quickly, wishing he had thought to put on his coat. He tried the knob. It wouldn’t budge. He tried again, but it was more than stuck. It was locked! Jonathan watched Patrick cruelly laughing at him as he tried to work the lock.
“Please let me in, daddy. It’s cold and starting to snow. I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll do better. I’m sorry.” Jonathan spoke words he didn’t believe, desperate to be back in the warmth.
“You want something to cry about? I’ll give you something to cry about.. Stay out there and think about how you ruined Christmas for all of us again.” With that said, Patrick turned off the lights in the kitchen and headed upstairs, leaving Jonathan to shiver in the dark. He sat down on the steps and drew his knees up to his chest to keep warm.
He didn’t know how much time had passed - hours maybe - before he heard a light tapping on the glass. Jonathan looked up to see Erin’s face staring back at him. The locked clicked and the door opened, spilling out the hot air.
Erin pulled him inside and wrapped him in her arms trying to warm him up. “I’m so sorry, Jonathan. I’m going to take care of you, okay?”
Erin led him up the stairs and covered him with blankets, patiently putting them back around his shoulders when the incessant shaking threw them off. She knelt down in front of him and took his ice cold hands in hers. “None of this is your fault. No, look at me. This is not your fault!”
“It’s all my fault.” Jonathan was unaware he was speaking out loud.
“No way! This is all JR’s fault!” Amanda was steamed and paced to burn off energy.
“What?” Jonathan looked up, suddenly realizing JR was long gone and they were now back outside. He shook his head to bring himself fully into the present..
“I’m sorry. I’m ranting and raving. Are you okay?”
Jonathan nodded imperceptibly. “I missed what you were saying though.”
Amanda studied him. “Where did you go?”
“Nowhere.” A place you don’t want to know, Jonathan finished in his head.
**************************************************************************************
“Hockett, are you sure you’re up to this? I mean, we could wait...”
“No, Ryan. I want - no, I need to do this,” Jonathan insisted as he fingered an old photograph.
Ryan crossed the sparsely furnished room and sat on the bed next to his brother. It sagged under his weight. He looked around at the various knickknacks and trinkets scattered throughout. The room had sat largely untouched for the last year, partly at Jonathan’s urging, and partly because Ryan knew he could not do it alone.
He waited patiently for Jonathan to be ready to go through Erin’s things. It was difficult to pass the closed door on a daily basis, knowing what lay behind it, but Ryan would have given Jonathan eternity if that’s what he needed.
Jonathan let out a shaky breath and knelt on the floor in front of the closet. He began sifting through clothes, sorting them out. “I suppose...I suppose most of these should go to Goodwill.” Jonathan’s voice was flat, revealing no emotion.
“Yeah, okay. Whatever you think.”
Ryan knew his brother was starting with the least personal items, trying to build up the courage to go through the letters and photographs and memorabilia collected during a lifetime. He waited and watched, there to offer support when needed.
A penny dropped to the floor from an old shoe. “She was still doing the penny thing?”
Ryan chuckled softly. “Apparently, she was.”
Jonathan merely nodded as if he had possessed that knowledge all along. He continued pulling clothes off of hangers and out of drawers with Ryan’s help, until the job was complete nearly an hour later.
“How ‘bout we take a break? Get a cup of coffee,” Ryan suggested, taking back his position on the bed.
Jonathan shook his head. “No, thank you. If we stop now...” He left the sentence unfinished, but Ryan gathered the meaning nevertheless. If Jonathan didn’t see this through to the end, it would never get done. He could not draw the pain out any longer. This was the last time his brother would be stepping into this room.
There were several boxes stacked up in the corner of the closet. Jonathan dragged them out in one fluid motion. He hunkered down and lifted the lid off the first box. The majority of the space was filled with Fusion documents and mementos of her time spent with Aidan. He put it aside and went for the next box. He brushed the dust off and lifted the lid. Jonathan fingered the material on top reverently.
“What is that?” Ryan broke the silence, his curiosity getting the better of him..
Jonathan’s head jerked up. Lost in the past, he had almost forgotten Ryan’s presence. “It’s, um... it’s a quilt. Erin made it.” He hesitated, not sure how much of the memory he wanted to give voice to. Ryan remained silent, allowing his brother to collect his thoughts.
“She got the idea to make it for me the Christmas after Dad locked me out of the house.” Jonathan continued. “I was so cold. I couldn’t get warm. Erin, she tried, but I - I just couldn’t... I think I was out there damn near all night. Erin, she - she spent weeks collecting scraps - teaching herself to sew. “
”That’s when she learned?” Ryan revealed his surprise.
“Yeah. It was her gift to me. I had to keep it hidden - kept it under the bed. You know Dad would’ve destroyed it if he found it.” The words came out in a rush now. He seemed to be talking not to Ryan, but to himself. “After the beatings, I would crawl under the bed, wrap up in it like a shield. Erin would always find me, take care of me, bring me food.”
Jonathan passed the quilt to Ryan who studied the pattern with interest. It was hard to tell if some of the brown stains were chocolate or old blood, but if he had been a betting man he would have went with the latter.
Jonathan reached into the box again and withdrew a bundle of letters. He inhaled sharply. “Oh my God. These are the letters I wrote her when I went away to Princeton. I can’t believe she kept them.”
“It doesn’t surprise me at all.” Ryan left his post on the bed and squatted down on the floor next to Jonathan. “She adored you, Jonathan.”
Jonathan wore a look of confused hurt. “She never answered them, Ryan. Until now, I wasn’t even sure she had gotten them.”
“Maybe she was trying to give you a clean break. Maybe she figured you didn’t want to be reminded of the place that took you 18 years to leave.”
“I don’t know. I guess I never will.” He stated this as a fact, no trace of grief in his voice. He opened a few and skimmed them, tossing them aside in horror.
“What is it, Hockett?” Ryan forced his voice to remain steady despite Jonathan’s disturbing reaction.
“No wonder she never responded. They’re so full of hate. I just - I wrote them before I was - before I dropped out.” Jonathan struggled visibly with his emotions.
Ryan plucked a couple pages from the floor. He couldn’t help but let his eyes wonder over the disjointed scribbling.
Jonathan reached to take the pages back, but he lacked the energy for purposeful movement. “Burn them, Ryan.” He rocked back and forth on his heels, the beginning of his decline uncomfortably exposed in black and white. “No one needs to see that shit - ever again!”
Ryan scooted around until he was directly in front of Jonathan. He held the letters fanned out in his hand, beside his face. “These,” he shook the letters for emphasis, “are not you. All this was the direct result of the tumor.”
Jonathan gave a slight shake of his head. “No. No, it wasn’t.”
“You were suffering delusions and hallucinations brought on by the tumor. And the medication that was shoved down your throat didn’t help. I saw what the anti-psychotics did to Greenlee - and to you.” Ryan tried to hold his brother’s attention, but Jonathan’s head dropped in shame at the mention of one of his past transgressions. Ryan stooped down into his line of sight until he forced Jonathan to look at him again. “None of it was your fault.”
“But the feelings - the sentiments were very real. All the anger, the hate, the self-loathing - was all me.”
“And you had every right to feel those things. I’ve felt them too. Growing up in that Hellhole was like living in this void where nothing good could get in.”
Jonathan darted up suddenly and drew his fists to his forehead. He seemed to explode on Ryan, his eyes blazing wildly. “You don’t get it do you? Do you have any idea how scary it is to realize that all the bad things that people thought about you - you thought about yourself - are absolutely true?”
“Hockett, what are you talking about? No one - no one thinks badly of you.”
Ryan took a step towards Jonathan, growing more concerned with each passing moment. His brother would never have been described as laid-back, but his newfound frenzied state was more than a little disconcerting. But as quickly as it came, it went. Jonathan sunk down onto the bed, deflated. His eyes searched the corners of the room, avoiding Ryan’s. “Dad was right. I’m nothing but a disappointment. One big disappointment.”
Ryan knelt down in front of Jonathan and held the back of his neck with a firm hand. “Don’t ever, EVER think that.”
“It’s true.” Jonathan continued before Ryan could contradict him. “I’ve let everyone down. You. Lily. Erin. God, Ryan - Erin. If I would have been there -“
”Stop! Just stop!” Jonathan recoiled as if slapped. Ryan softened his tone. “Do you have any idea how proud I am of you? How many obstacles you’ve overcome to get where you are?” Jonathan tried to move off the bed, but Ryan gently restrained him with a hand on the shoulder. “You are courageous and strong and good-hearted. I know if I ever need anything, I can depend on you. My brother’s got my back. Look around this messed up town. Not many people can say that.”
Ryan’s lame attempt to lighten the mood with his last statement fell on deaf ears. Jonathan’s eyes welled up, magnifying their blueness. He struggled for control of his voice. “Erin depended on me too. And look where it got her.”
“Hockett,” Ryan sighed sadly. “It was Zach’s father that did that. You are not responsible. Please stop carrying the blame. Erin wouldn’t want that.”
Jonathan bit his lip and sniffed, still trying to fight back the tears. Ryan stood and crossed the room. He pulled an object from under the mattress and carried it over to his brother. Jonathan looked at him questioningly. “It’s Erin’s diary. If I can’t convince you what a good guy you really are, maybe Erin can.”
Ryan held it out to him, but it took a moment for him to accept it. He ran his fingers over the cracked binding. “This is private Ryan-“
”Erin would want you to have it.”
“I - I don’t know... I’m not sure...”
“Take it, Hockett. Take all the time you need. And when you’re ready, it’s there.”
“Okay.”
Ryan pulled Jonathan into an embrace. “If you ever need anything, even if it’s just someone to talk to, I’m here. I love you, Hockett. I hope you know that.”
As Ryan continued to hold onto his little brother, he felt a slight nod against his shoulder. Ryan wasn’t naive. He knew his words alone wouldn’t be enough to pull Jonathan away from the abyss, but he prayed it would give him something to anchor him when the darkness closed in.
Amanda sauntered into the living room, flicking the gray dish soap off her hands. She patted them on her jeans trying to get the slimy feel of cold, food-laden dishwater off of her hands. “Yuck!”
“They do have a dishwasher here you know.” Jonathan couldn’t help but laugh at the expression of disgust on her face.
“Not for the big pots and pans they don’t. And I suppose you think this is funny.” Jonathan’s wide grin was all she needed in response.
Amanda came after him, hands outstretched. Jonathan tried to move out of her path, but couldn’t get off the couch in time before she pounced on him. She playfully wiped her hands on his shirt. “Okay, okay! I give.”
“That’s right you give. That’s what you get for not helping me with the dishes.”
“Hey, I tried to help you earlier. But that stuffing was beyond help.”
Amanda feigned hurt from her position atop Jonathan, but it was short-lived. “Okay, I’ll admit...it was a little well done.”
“A little,” Jonathan teased. “You could have broke a window with that.”
Amanda playfully jabbed him in the ribs. “Oh, you are so dead.”
Jonathan let out a short laugh. “I am, am I?”
Amanda went in for another shot, but her hand bearing her weight slipped and her face wound up inches from his. She could feel his warm breath on her skin, sending a pleasant electric tingling across the nape of her neck and journeying down her spine. Feelings that she thought she had long since buried, bubbled to the surface.
Their eyes locked as Amanda brought her face closer to Jonathan’s. The heat was unbearable. He reached in and gently brushed her lips with his. Amanda returned the kiss hungrily, sinking down into it. He cupped her face, continuing to kiss her.
Her long chestnut hair fell down and Jonathan lovingly stroked it back. Their lips met once again, but Jonathan pulled back a little. “Amanda...”
Amanda put a finger to his lips to silence him. “Let’s not talk. Let’s not think about it.” She rained kisses down his chest beginning to crumble his resolve.
“I don’t want to hurt you again.”
“And I don’t want to hurt you. Do you care about me?”
“Yes,” he whispered into her ear. “I care about you very much.”
“Then you won’t hurt me.” She could read the hesitation in his eyes. “I want this. I want you.”
“I want you too.”
Their bodies surrendered to the intense desire, causing their breath to come in short, quick gasps. Amanda slowly unbuttoned his shirt as Jonathan slid his hands down her bare shoulders. She shivered in anticipation at the touch - his touch. She arched into him as he reached up to meet her.
Their lovemaking was a frenzied tangle of arms and legs, leaving them breathless on the floor. Amanda gathered the blanket closer around her. Despite the heat from the fireplace, she felt chilled without Jonathan’s warmth.
He gave her a small smile. She entwined her fingers with his. “That was...”
“Yeah,” he exhaled. His failure to elaborate sent a blip of concern across Amanda’s radar.
“Are you okay?”
He shifted his weight until he was facing her. He traced the line of her jaw with his index finger. “Yeah, I’m great.” His smile widened. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty darn good,” she smiled slyly, running her hand up and down his arm.
He kissed her shoulder tenderly, working his way up to her neck and then reaching her mouth. Amanda savored the taste of Jonathan’s lips on hers. She pulled back, breathless once again. “If we’re going to go further, maybe we should take this upstairs.”
Amanda glanced out the window at the first gray streaks of light. Holiday or not, the house would be waking in a couple hours. Jonathan turned his head, seeing the breaking dawn also. She raised a good point, he admitted to himself.
Jonathan got up quietly, gathering the sheet around him. He offered her his hand as he led them up the stairs. Everything about this night had felt right, but in the back if his mind he couldn’t help wondering what he had gotten himself into. But more importantly - what had he gotten Amanda into?
**************************************************************************************
Amanda had fallen asleep in Jonathan’s arms as the clattering of dishes began to ring out from below. Jonathan had fallen asleep shortly before that, but she had lain awake a bit longer enjoying the closeness as she listened to his steady heartbeat and watched the even rise and fall of his chest..
She held onto to him trying to wipe the images of over a month ago out of her head. They flashed like lightning through her mind. It had terrified her even thinking about the possibility of losing him. She had denied her feelings for too long, and she was determined to not let that happen again.
Amanda contemplated all this as she drifted off. It was a blissfully restful sleep, mostly dreamless until she heard faint whimpering that she fuzzily connected to her old dog Harold. It wasn’t uncommon for her to dream of him from time to time. Usually, those dreams included her dad, too. Those dreams were bittersweet.
The soft cries took on a more human nature. Amanda realized it wasn’t coming from her dream but the man that lay next to her. She studied Jonathan’s face in the gloom, half-hidden by the pillow and an arm that seemed to lie at a protective angle. His brow was furrowed and his mouth scrunched up so that he looked to be in pain.
Amanda’s hand wavered in mid-air, unsure whether to wake him or not. She watched, hand frozen above his shoulder, the cries continuing but not worsening. She settled on stroking the side of his face, trying to smooth out the lines that darkened his otherwise handsome features. He nestled his head into her hand, appearing to relax in his sleep.
Amanda sighed. Although she had slept with Jonathan before she had never actually spent the night with him. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was a common occurrence or just the stress of the past few weeks showing itself. There was no telling with Jonathan. The ghosts that haunted him weren’t the kind that only showed themselves in the dark of night.
She kept a watchful eye on him the rest of the morning, the incidence never repeating itself. And when he finally awoke, he appeared to have no memory of the event. Amanda didn’t mention it, intending to keep it to herself for the time-being. There was no sense worrying both herself and Jonathan over an isolated incidence. Right?
**************************************************************************************
The lights twinkled and danced on the trees outside the department store. The wind whipped fiercely until the snowflakes were flung sideways, biting into their cheeks. Their breath plumed in front of them, disappearing as they stepped into the warmth.
“Remind me why I let you drag me out in this weather,” Amanda shivered, shaking the snow from her hair.
“Don’t be a Grinch. It’s Christmastime.” Jonathan stuffed his gloves into the pockets of his leather jacket and brought his hands to his mouth to warm them up.
“I’d rather be sipping hot chocolate by the fire with you.”
“That is very tempting.” Jonathan pulled Amanda into him. “But....I need to buy gifts for Spike and Emma first. Spike is easy, but I really need your input when it comes to Emma. I’m not really up on what’s cool for four year old girls.”
“What about this girl? Any idea what she might want?”
Jonathan appeared to give it some thought. “Well, that depends. Have you been naughty or nice?”
“Very, very naughty.” Amanda’s lips met his.
“Oh, isn’t this nice? The booty call and the psycho boy.”
The snide remark could only have come from one person. Amanda pulled back from Jonathan and glared in the direction of the disruption. “Back off, JR.”
JR gave her his best smile. “No, really. I’ve heard charity begins at home. Tis the season for giving and all that.”
“You got something to say, Junior? Say it to me. Leave Amanda out of this.” Jonathan took a step towards him. True to form, JR took a half step back.
“Some things never change. You’re still a psycho freak, Jonny boy.”
“And you’re still an asshole.”
“I thought you gave up on this place after I had you thrown out for impersonating Santa. Ya know, a normal person?”
Jonathan voice lowered to just above a whisper. “I’m not into ruining people’s Christmases like some people.”
“No, that was your old man’s job wasn’t it?” JR grinned, internally pleased with the reaction it elicited from Jonathan.
“That’s enough! You just crossed a major line, JR,” Amanda warned, stepping in between the two men.
Jonathan gently pulled Amanda back. “Don’t. It’s not worth it.” His shoulders slumped, as if weighed down by the painful memories.
JR chuckled and feigned concern. “Are you feeling a little homesick, Jonny? I could give you a couple bruises - really make it feel like Christmas for you.”
“You’re a jerk!” Jonathan’s head snapped up in time to see Amanda give JR a powerful shove that sent him toppling back into a display. The Christmas tree teetered for a moment before coming to rest at his feet.
Jonathan stood transfixed by the fallen tree. It was a scene he was all too familiar with.
“Look what you made me do,” Patrick sneered at him.
Jonathan stood dumbfounded at the ravaged tree. The wrapping paper was ripped and torn on most of the presents in the meager pile. He knew they were only for Erin, but it still made him sad. His lower lip quivered.
“Here come the waterworks. Look at the little crybaby.” Patrick grabbed him roughly by the arm and shoved him in front of the dirty, cracked mirror. “Look at him!”
Jonathan stared back at his image. Every time he tried to avert his eyes, Patrick shook him until he turned his head frontwards.
“You make me sick. Clean up this mess you caused.”
Jonathan kneeled down amidst the destruction and began fingering the broken ornaments. He winced as he caught the sharp edge of one with his finger.
“Hurry up! You’re as slow as you are dumb.”
Jonathan was at a point where the words didn’t hurt anymore. He was just....numb. He grabbed a trash bag and scooped the mess up as best he could. When his dad went to go grab another beer he snuck out the back with the trash.
He dumped it in the trash quickly, wishing he had thought to put on his coat. He tried the knob. It wouldn’t budge. He tried again, but it was more than stuck. It was locked! Jonathan watched Patrick cruelly laughing at him as he tried to work the lock.
“Please let me in, daddy. It’s cold and starting to snow. I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll do better. I’m sorry.” Jonathan spoke words he didn’t believe, desperate to be back in the warmth.
“You want something to cry about? I’ll give you something to cry about.. Stay out there and think about how you ruined Christmas for all of us again.” With that said, Patrick turned off the lights in the kitchen and headed upstairs, leaving Jonathan to shiver in the dark. He sat down on the steps and drew his knees up to his chest to keep warm.
He didn’t know how much time had passed - hours maybe - before he heard a light tapping on the glass. Jonathan looked up to see Erin’s face staring back at him. The locked clicked and the door opened, spilling out the hot air.
Erin pulled him inside and wrapped him in her arms trying to warm him up. “I’m so sorry, Jonathan. I’m going to take care of you, okay?”
Erin led him up the stairs and covered him with blankets, patiently putting them back around his shoulders when the incessant shaking threw them off. She knelt down in front of him and took his ice cold hands in hers. “None of this is your fault. No, look at me. This is not your fault!”
“It’s all my fault.” Jonathan was unaware he was speaking out loud.
“No way! This is all JR’s fault!” Amanda was steamed and paced to burn off energy.
“What?” Jonathan looked up, suddenly realizing JR was long gone and they were now back outside. He shook his head to bring himself fully into the present..
“I’m sorry. I’m ranting and raving. Are you okay?”
Jonathan nodded imperceptibly. “I missed what you were saying though.”
Amanda studied him. “Where did you go?”
“Nowhere.” A place you don’t want to know, Jonathan finished in his head.
**************************************************************************************
“Hockett, are you sure you’re up to this? I mean, we could wait...”
“No, Ryan. I want - no, I need to do this,” Jonathan insisted as he fingered an old photograph.
Ryan crossed the sparsely furnished room and sat on the bed next to his brother. It sagged under his weight. He looked around at the various knickknacks and trinkets scattered throughout. The room had sat largely untouched for the last year, partly at Jonathan’s urging, and partly because Ryan knew he could not do it alone.
He waited patiently for Jonathan to be ready to go through Erin’s things. It was difficult to pass the closed door on a daily basis, knowing what lay behind it, but Ryan would have given Jonathan eternity if that’s what he needed.
Jonathan let out a shaky breath and knelt on the floor in front of the closet. He began sifting through clothes, sorting them out. “I suppose...I suppose most of these should go to Goodwill.” Jonathan’s voice was flat, revealing no emotion.
“Yeah, okay. Whatever you think.”
Ryan knew his brother was starting with the least personal items, trying to build up the courage to go through the letters and photographs and memorabilia collected during a lifetime. He waited and watched, there to offer support when needed.
A penny dropped to the floor from an old shoe. “She was still doing the penny thing?”
Ryan chuckled softly. “Apparently, she was.”
Jonathan merely nodded as if he had possessed that knowledge all along. He continued pulling clothes off of hangers and out of drawers with Ryan’s help, until the job was complete nearly an hour later.
“How ‘bout we take a break? Get a cup of coffee,” Ryan suggested, taking back his position on the bed.
Jonathan shook his head. “No, thank you. If we stop now...” He left the sentence unfinished, but Ryan gathered the meaning nevertheless. If Jonathan didn’t see this through to the end, it would never get done. He could not draw the pain out any longer. This was the last time his brother would be stepping into this room.
There were several boxes stacked up in the corner of the closet. Jonathan dragged them out in one fluid motion. He hunkered down and lifted the lid off the first box. The majority of the space was filled with Fusion documents and mementos of her time spent with Aidan. He put it aside and went for the next box. He brushed the dust off and lifted the lid. Jonathan fingered the material on top reverently.
“What is that?” Ryan broke the silence, his curiosity getting the better of him..
Jonathan’s head jerked up. Lost in the past, he had almost forgotten Ryan’s presence. “It’s, um... it’s a quilt. Erin made it.” He hesitated, not sure how much of the memory he wanted to give voice to. Ryan remained silent, allowing his brother to collect his thoughts.
“She got the idea to make it for me the Christmas after Dad locked me out of the house.” Jonathan continued. “I was so cold. I couldn’t get warm. Erin, she tried, but I - I just couldn’t... I think I was out there damn near all night. Erin, she - she spent weeks collecting scraps - teaching herself to sew. “
”That’s when she learned?” Ryan revealed his surprise.
“Yeah. It was her gift to me. I had to keep it hidden - kept it under the bed. You know Dad would’ve destroyed it if he found it.” The words came out in a rush now. He seemed to be talking not to Ryan, but to himself. “After the beatings, I would crawl under the bed, wrap up in it like a shield. Erin would always find me, take care of me, bring me food.”
Jonathan passed the quilt to Ryan who studied the pattern with interest. It was hard to tell if some of the brown stains were chocolate or old blood, but if he had been a betting man he would have went with the latter.
Jonathan reached into the box again and withdrew a bundle of letters. He inhaled sharply. “Oh my God. These are the letters I wrote her when I went away to Princeton. I can’t believe she kept them.”
“It doesn’t surprise me at all.” Ryan left his post on the bed and squatted down on the floor next to Jonathan. “She adored you, Jonathan.”
Jonathan wore a look of confused hurt. “She never answered them, Ryan. Until now, I wasn’t even sure she had gotten them.”
“Maybe she was trying to give you a clean break. Maybe she figured you didn’t want to be reminded of the place that took you 18 years to leave.”
“I don’t know. I guess I never will.” He stated this as a fact, no trace of grief in his voice. He opened a few and skimmed them, tossing them aside in horror.
“What is it, Hockett?” Ryan forced his voice to remain steady despite Jonathan’s disturbing reaction.
“No wonder she never responded. They’re so full of hate. I just - I wrote them before I was - before I dropped out.” Jonathan struggled visibly with his emotions.
Ryan plucked a couple pages from the floor. He couldn’t help but let his eyes wonder over the disjointed scribbling.
Jonathan reached to take the pages back, but he lacked the energy for purposeful movement. “Burn them, Ryan.” He rocked back and forth on his heels, the beginning of his decline uncomfortably exposed in black and white. “No one needs to see that shit - ever again!”
Ryan scooted around until he was directly in front of Jonathan. He held the letters fanned out in his hand, beside his face. “These,” he shook the letters for emphasis, “are not you. All this was the direct result of the tumor.”
Jonathan gave a slight shake of his head. “No. No, it wasn’t.”
“You were suffering delusions and hallucinations brought on by the tumor. And the medication that was shoved down your throat didn’t help. I saw what the anti-psychotics did to Greenlee - and to you.” Ryan tried to hold his brother’s attention, but Jonathan’s head dropped in shame at the mention of one of his past transgressions. Ryan stooped down into his line of sight until he forced Jonathan to look at him again. “None of it was your fault.”
“But the feelings - the sentiments were very real. All the anger, the hate, the self-loathing - was all me.”
“And you had every right to feel those things. I’ve felt them too. Growing up in that Hellhole was like living in this void where nothing good could get in.”
Jonathan darted up suddenly and drew his fists to his forehead. He seemed to explode on Ryan, his eyes blazing wildly. “You don’t get it do you? Do you have any idea how scary it is to realize that all the bad things that people thought about you - you thought about yourself - are absolutely true?”
“Hockett, what are you talking about? No one - no one thinks badly of you.”
Ryan took a step towards Jonathan, growing more concerned with each passing moment. His brother would never have been described as laid-back, but his newfound frenzied state was more than a little disconcerting. But as quickly as it came, it went. Jonathan sunk down onto the bed, deflated. His eyes searched the corners of the room, avoiding Ryan’s. “Dad was right. I’m nothing but a disappointment. One big disappointment.”
Ryan knelt down in front of Jonathan and held the back of his neck with a firm hand. “Don’t ever, EVER think that.”
“It’s true.” Jonathan continued before Ryan could contradict him. “I’ve let everyone down. You. Lily. Erin. God, Ryan - Erin. If I would have been there -“
”Stop! Just stop!” Jonathan recoiled as if slapped. Ryan softened his tone. “Do you have any idea how proud I am of you? How many obstacles you’ve overcome to get where you are?” Jonathan tried to move off the bed, but Ryan gently restrained him with a hand on the shoulder. “You are courageous and strong and good-hearted. I know if I ever need anything, I can depend on you. My brother’s got my back. Look around this messed up town. Not many people can say that.”
Ryan’s lame attempt to lighten the mood with his last statement fell on deaf ears. Jonathan’s eyes welled up, magnifying their blueness. He struggled for control of his voice. “Erin depended on me too. And look where it got her.”
“Hockett,” Ryan sighed sadly. “It was Zach’s father that did that. You are not responsible. Please stop carrying the blame. Erin wouldn’t want that.”
Jonathan bit his lip and sniffed, still trying to fight back the tears. Ryan stood and crossed the room. He pulled an object from under the mattress and carried it over to his brother. Jonathan looked at him questioningly. “It’s Erin’s diary. If I can’t convince you what a good guy you really are, maybe Erin can.”
Ryan held it out to him, but it took a moment for him to accept it. He ran his fingers over the cracked binding. “This is private Ryan-“
”Erin would want you to have it.”
“I - I don’t know... I’m not sure...”
“Take it, Hockett. Take all the time you need. And when you’re ready, it’s there.”
“Okay.”
Ryan pulled Jonathan into an embrace. “If you ever need anything, even if it’s just someone to talk to, I’m here. I love you, Hockett. I hope you know that.”
As Ryan continued to hold onto his little brother, he felt a slight nod against his shoulder. Ryan wasn’t naive. He knew his words alone wouldn’t be enough to pull Jonathan away from the abyss, but he prayed it would give him something to anchor him when the darkness closed in.