Post by Beth on Mar 22, 2008 15:00:33 GMT -5
I had a lot of trouble with this part so it didn't turn out that well I don't think. But...I had to get through it to get on to the next part. I hope it's not too bad. And I admit, I stole one line from the show. It was too good not too. Enjoy
Jonathan sat, mouth agape, at Amanda’s revelation. The shock drained all the moisture from his mouth. His tongue stuck to his soft palate as he tried to swallow, eliciting a small clicking sound from his throat with the effort. Amanda’s lips were moving, but her voice was replaced by the deafening silence roaring in his ears. “What,” he managed to eke out.
“I’m pregnant,” Amanda repeated, trying to gauge his reaction.
Jonathan nodded, indicating he had heard her. More precisely, he had seen her mouth form the words, her voice stretched out and warped like a record being played in slow motion. The gravity of her words still had yet to completely sink in. Speaking was out of the question as he struggled with comprehension. A thousand thoughts were running through his head, none of them able to take root and form coherently. He knew she would be expecting some kind of response, an action that seemed nearly impossible at the moment. He put on a tight-lipped smile, grasping for the right thing to say.
“Jonathan? Are you okay?” Amanda watched him curiously. He made several false attempts at speaking, his mouth opening and closing giving him a befuddled, fish-like appearance. It would have been sort of cute if not for the fact that she had just dropped a bombshell on him.
The questions finally broke him out of his mental paralysis. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so. Are you okay?”
“Now that I’m used to the idea, I am. Something clearly you are not yet,” she tried to laugh it off. It came out stunted and forced.
Jonathan let out his own uncomfortable laugh. “Guilty.”
“Well, at least you’re honest.” Her statement was laced with a bitterness she couldn’t keep reigned in.
“Hey, give me a break. I’ve had all of thirty seconds to get used to the idea. You’ve had....How long have you known?”
“A couple of weeks.”
“A couple of weeks,” he echoed.
“More or less.”
Jonathan persisted in hiding the hurt he felt at being kept in the dark. “How come you didn’t tell me sooner?”
“I wanted to be absolutely sure. I took like three tests before I even believed it. And I didn’t know how I felt about it. I couldn’t expect to dump it on you without having worked it out for myself first.”
“And how do you feel about it?”
“A little weird, but okay I guess. I was freaked at first, though,” she confessed.
“Amanda, you should have told me as soon as you found out,” he gently admonished. “You shouldn’t have had to go it alone. I’ve told you before, you need to let me be there for you.” Jonathan was an expert at commanding eye contact with only one look.
“And is that what you want to do, Jonathan? Be there?” It took all her strength to meet his gaze. She was afraid of what his true feelings really were.
Instead of answering, he pushed himself off the couch and slowly knelt down in front of her. He slid his hand into hers and began balancing on one knee.
Amanda’s heart fluttered as she realized what was about to happen. “Jonathan! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“The right thing.” He stared up at her earnestly, innocently unaware of the foolishness of his hasty gesture.
Before he could finish, she abruptly cut him off. “But is it for the right reasons?”
“What do you mean?” He was clearly baffled.
“A baby is not enough of a reason to get married. I’m in love with you. Are you in love with me,” her directness surprised even herself. They had danced around the issue many times, but the circumstances had forced her hand.
“Of course I love you.” The conversation was taking a surreal and destructive turn. Jonathan was desperately trying to steer it back into neutral territory, but Amanda was unrelenting.
“That’s not what I asked you,” she exclaimed. “I asked if you were in love with me.” His brief hesitation told her all she needed to know. She sighed sadly. “You are an amazing guy, Jonathan. When you give your heart away, you give it completely and forever. The problem is, the person who has it has no use for it anymore.”
The realization dawned on him, slamming into him like a brick wall. “No, dammit, this has nothing to do with Lily!”
“I’m competing with memories. I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”
“This has nothing to do with Lily - or Ava, for that matter.” He was on the verge of pleading. “It has everything to do with me.”
Her sadness was quickly being replaced by anger and frustration. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Jonathan sagged down to the floor and drew his knees up to his chest. He began a lazy rocking motion that he was unaware of. “I’m not even sure I’m capable of feeling the love you’re describing.” He tilted his head up towards the ceiling, exhaling slowly with his admission. Revealing insights into his true self always seemed to cause him to avert his eyes. Whether it was in shame or embarrassment, or something else entirely, Amanda wasn’t sure.
Her anger had not diminished, but her curiosity won out. “What do you mean?”
“Up until a couple of years ago, the only love, the only kindness I ever got was from Ryan and Erin. Other than that, there was only anger and bruises and yelling and criticism and...” he trailed off, not needing to fill in the blanks. “ How can you get love out of that?” The eyes dropped to meet hers and then stared back up at the ceiling once again.
Amanda shook her head sadly. “I don’t know. But you have you figure it out. Not for me, but for yourself - and for this baby.”
“I’ve been trying. I just don’t know how.” His pained expression threatened to break her heart. As much as she loved him, she could not get married to him if the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. And if they both weren’t in it for the long haul, then what were they doing? She didn’t know how much longer she could be in relationship-limbo with him.
She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. “Like I told you in the beginning there is no pressure. When you decide what you really want, what you really want to do, I’ll still be here.” Amanda kissed him lightly on the cheek and slowly walked out, the door clicking shut softly behind her.
Jonathan stayed crouched on the floor, the waning light cutting patterns on the hard wood floor. The time that passed was irrelevant. He hadn’t even noticed that his brother had yet to return with dinner. He sat watching the dust particles dance in the last of the sunlight, needing to think things through, but not really able to think of anything at all. The numbness had set in. He wrapped himself in it like a security blanket.
That was how Ryan found him when he finally arrived home with an armload of food. “Well, I hope you’re hungry because they screwed up the order so many times I think they gave me everything on the menu but ‘thank you’ and ‘please come again.’ Ryan finished unloading the bags into the kitchen and slipped out of his coat. “You okay, Hockett?”
Jonathan had managed to hoist himself back up on the couch before Ryan saw him on the floor. He wanted to avoid any questions he could right now. There were things he had to sort through in his own head before he could subject himself to the inevitable third degree. He put on what he hoped was a convincing poker facer. “Yeah, sure.”
“Are you ready to eat? I for one am starving.”
Jonathan accepted his plate without commenting. He watched as Ryan half devoured and half inhaled his food. He had always marveled at how much Ryan could eat. A few morsels found their way to his mouth, but most of the food got picked over and pushed around on the plate.
Ryan looked up from his dinner long enough to realize that his brother had hardly touched his. “Are you feeling okay? You really haven’t eaten that much.”
“No, I’m fine.” Jonathan plastered on a small smile to put his brother at ease, a ruse he had perfected over a lifetime. “I’m just a little tired is all. In fact, I think I’m going to turn in early.” Jonathan leaned forward and placed his plate on the coffee table and started to rise.
“Aw, man. I rented a movie and everything. But if you’re that tired, I guess it can wait.”
Jonathan hesitated on the arm of the couch, debating. He could continue on upstairs and be alone to untangle the confused mess in his head, or he could stay and watch the movie and make Ryan happy. He laid back down on the couch, figuring that if they were watching a movie at least Ryan’s attention would be focused elsewhere and he wouldn’t be the object of any brotherly scrutiny. “No, it’s okay. I’ll stay.”
“Are you sure? I mean, we don’t have to...”
“I wouldn’t want to see you disappointed. I hate it when you sulk,” he said flatly.
“Yeaaaah, it’s not pretty,” Ryan agreed as he fired up the DVD player and inserted the disc.
Jonathan made an effort to follow the plot, but it was futile. His thoughts circled furiously, wrapping around themselves until they were indistinguishable from one another. His mind eventually surrendered and drifted off, his body soon following.
The darkness enveloped him, swallowing him into its oblivion. He floated on a sea of nothingness, blissfully. But then the dreams invaded - they always did. There was no escaping their wrath.
Jonathan heard the loud crack, but there was no pain. He brought his hand up to his cheek tentatively, the fingers lightly touching the emerging mark. The tingling was beginning to subside giving way to a raw stinging sensation.
“Close that pathetic trap of yours before I shut it for you,” Patrick warned, stepping forward with his hand raised menacingly once again.
He hadn’t even realized that his mouth was hanging open from the shock of the assault. He had been playing quietly in his room, trying desperately to stay out of his father’s line of sight, knowing that when he came home from a night out it could only end badly if he didn’t hide himself away. So he stayed locked away in the bedroom - his safe haven. But it had ceased to be so tonight.
His mother, was as usual, by dinnertime, passed out on the couch leaving himself and Erin to fend for themselves. Jonathan had picked up the empty bottles and stashed them in the trash before his father could see them. On these nights when Patrick came home in a drunken haze, without Gail to knock around, he usually sought out Jonathan to “have some fun”, as he put it.
The headboard now dug uncomfortably into his back. He had pressed himself up against it as far as he could in an attempt to put as much distance between himself and his father. There was nowhere left to run.
The edges of his vision blurred suddenly as he took a blow to the head. It sent him sprawling off the bed. He got to his knees and scrambled backwards until he hit the wall with a muted thump. He was trapped, cowering in the corner. Patrick advanced on him threateningly, but backed off at the last second. “Aw, you’re not worth it.”
He tried to keep still and hold his breath, but he could not stop the huge sigh of relief that escaped. The noise caused Patrick to turn back around, and Jonathan winced at his mistake. This time there was no reprieve. The smacks rained down over and over, increasing in their force. He squeezed his eyes shut against the blows, praying for it to come to an end, never knowing when it would finally stop.
Eventually he was able to withdraw into himself. Detachment was the only way to make it through the increasing episodes. He no longer felt the fist on his face. He only felt the rage building in him until he thought it would erupt out of him like molten lava. It was only then that he realized that he was longer on the receiving end. When he opened his eyes he saw a little boy crouched in a corner, the spitting image of him at that age. Jonathan looked up at his hand and stared in horror as he saw it was raised, poised to strike. He gagged on his revulsion, stifling a scream.
Jonathan sat, mouth agape, at Amanda’s revelation. The shock drained all the moisture from his mouth. His tongue stuck to his soft palate as he tried to swallow, eliciting a small clicking sound from his throat with the effort. Amanda’s lips were moving, but her voice was replaced by the deafening silence roaring in his ears. “What,” he managed to eke out.
“I’m pregnant,” Amanda repeated, trying to gauge his reaction.
Jonathan nodded, indicating he had heard her. More precisely, he had seen her mouth form the words, her voice stretched out and warped like a record being played in slow motion. The gravity of her words still had yet to completely sink in. Speaking was out of the question as he struggled with comprehension. A thousand thoughts were running through his head, none of them able to take root and form coherently. He knew she would be expecting some kind of response, an action that seemed nearly impossible at the moment. He put on a tight-lipped smile, grasping for the right thing to say.
“Jonathan? Are you okay?” Amanda watched him curiously. He made several false attempts at speaking, his mouth opening and closing giving him a befuddled, fish-like appearance. It would have been sort of cute if not for the fact that she had just dropped a bombshell on him.
The questions finally broke him out of his mental paralysis. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so. Are you okay?”
“Now that I’m used to the idea, I am. Something clearly you are not yet,” she tried to laugh it off. It came out stunted and forced.
Jonathan let out his own uncomfortable laugh. “Guilty.”
“Well, at least you’re honest.” Her statement was laced with a bitterness she couldn’t keep reigned in.
“Hey, give me a break. I’ve had all of thirty seconds to get used to the idea. You’ve had....How long have you known?”
“A couple of weeks.”
“A couple of weeks,” he echoed.
“More or less.”
Jonathan persisted in hiding the hurt he felt at being kept in the dark. “How come you didn’t tell me sooner?”
“I wanted to be absolutely sure. I took like three tests before I even believed it. And I didn’t know how I felt about it. I couldn’t expect to dump it on you without having worked it out for myself first.”
“And how do you feel about it?”
“A little weird, but okay I guess. I was freaked at first, though,” she confessed.
“Amanda, you should have told me as soon as you found out,” he gently admonished. “You shouldn’t have had to go it alone. I’ve told you before, you need to let me be there for you.” Jonathan was an expert at commanding eye contact with only one look.
“And is that what you want to do, Jonathan? Be there?” It took all her strength to meet his gaze. She was afraid of what his true feelings really were.
Instead of answering, he pushed himself off the couch and slowly knelt down in front of her. He slid his hand into hers and began balancing on one knee.
Amanda’s heart fluttered as she realized what was about to happen. “Jonathan! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“The right thing.” He stared up at her earnestly, innocently unaware of the foolishness of his hasty gesture.
Before he could finish, she abruptly cut him off. “But is it for the right reasons?”
“What do you mean?” He was clearly baffled.
“A baby is not enough of a reason to get married. I’m in love with you. Are you in love with me,” her directness surprised even herself. They had danced around the issue many times, but the circumstances had forced her hand.
“Of course I love you.” The conversation was taking a surreal and destructive turn. Jonathan was desperately trying to steer it back into neutral territory, but Amanda was unrelenting.
“That’s not what I asked you,” she exclaimed. “I asked if you were in love with me.” His brief hesitation told her all she needed to know. She sighed sadly. “You are an amazing guy, Jonathan. When you give your heart away, you give it completely and forever. The problem is, the person who has it has no use for it anymore.”
The realization dawned on him, slamming into him like a brick wall. “No, dammit, this has nothing to do with Lily!”
“I’m competing with memories. I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”
“This has nothing to do with Lily - or Ava, for that matter.” He was on the verge of pleading. “It has everything to do with me.”
Her sadness was quickly being replaced by anger and frustration. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Jonathan sagged down to the floor and drew his knees up to his chest. He began a lazy rocking motion that he was unaware of. “I’m not even sure I’m capable of feeling the love you’re describing.” He tilted his head up towards the ceiling, exhaling slowly with his admission. Revealing insights into his true self always seemed to cause him to avert his eyes. Whether it was in shame or embarrassment, or something else entirely, Amanda wasn’t sure.
Her anger had not diminished, but her curiosity won out. “What do you mean?”
“Up until a couple of years ago, the only love, the only kindness I ever got was from Ryan and Erin. Other than that, there was only anger and bruises and yelling and criticism and...” he trailed off, not needing to fill in the blanks. “ How can you get love out of that?” The eyes dropped to meet hers and then stared back up at the ceiling once again.
Amanda shook her head sadly. “I don’t know. But you have you figure it out. Not for me, but for yourself - and for this baby.”
“I’ve been trying. I just don’t know how.” His pained expression threatened to break her heart. As much as she loved him, she could not get married to him if the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. And if they both weren’t in it for the long haul, then what were they doing? She didn’t know how much longer she could be in relationship-limbo with him.
She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. “Like I told you in the beginning there is no pressure. When you decide what you really want, what you really want to do, I’ll still be here.” Amanda kissed him lightly on the cheek and slowly walked out, the door clicking shut softly behind her.
Jonathan stayed crouched on the floor, the waning light cutting patterns on the hard wood floor. The time that passed was irrelevant. He hadn’t even noticed that his brother had yet to return with dinner. He sat watching the dust particles dance in the last of the sunlight, needing to think things through, but not really able to think of anything at all. The numbness had set in. He wrapped himself in it like a security blanket.
That was how Ryan found him when he finally arrived home with an armload of food. “Well, I hope you’re hungry because they screwed up the order so many times I think they gave me everything on the menu but ‘thank you’ and ‘please come again.’ Ryan finished unloading the bags into the kitchen and slipped out of his coat. “You okay, Hockett?”
Jonathan had managed to hoist himself back up on the couch before Ryan saw him on the floor. He wanted to avoid any questions he could right now. There were things he had to sort through in his own head before he could subject himself to the inevitable third degree. He put on what he hoped was a convincing poker facer. “Yeah, sure.”
“Are you ready to eat? I for one am starving.”
Jonathan accepted his plate without commenting. He watched as Ryan half devoured and half inhaled his food. He had always marveled at how much Ryan could eat. A few morsels found their way to his mouth, but most of the food got picked over and pushed around on the plate.
Ryan looked up from his dinner long enough to realize that his brother had hardly touched his. “Are you feeling okay? You really haven’t eaten that much.”
“No, I’m fine.” Jonathan plastered on a small smile to put his brother at ease, a ruse he had perfected over a lifetime. “I’m just a little tired is all. In fact, I think I’m going to turn in early.” Jonathan leaned forward and placed his plate on the coffee table and started to rise.
“Aw, man. I rented a movie and everything. But if you’re that tired, I guess it can wait.”
Jonathan hesitated on the arm of the couch, debating. He could continue on upstairs and be alone to untangle the confused mess in his head, or he could stay and watch the movie and make Ryan happy. He laid back down on the couch, figuring that if they were watching a movie at least Ryan’s attention would be focused elsewhere and he wouldn’t be the object of any brotherly scrutiny. “No, it’s okay. I’ll stay.”
“Are you sure? I mean, we don’t have to...”
“I wouldn’t want to see you disappointed. I hate it when you sulk,” he said flatly.
“Yeaaaah, it’s not pretty,” Ryan agreed as he fired up the DVD player and inserted the disc.
Jonathan made an effort to follow the plot, but it was futile. His thoughts circled furiously, wrapping around themselves until they were indistinguishable from one another. His mind eventually surrendered and drifted off, his body soon following.
The darkness enveloped him, swallowing him into its oblivion. He floated on a sea of nothingness, blissfully. But then the dreams invaded - they always did. There was no escaping their wrath.
Jonathan heard the loud crack, but there was no pain. He brought his hand up to his cheek tentatively, the fingers lightly touching the emerging mark. The tingling was beginning to subside giving way to a raw stinging sensation.
“Close that pathetic trap of yours before I shut it for you,” Patrick warned, stepping forward with his hand raised menacingly once again.
He hadn’t even realized that his mouth was hanging open from the shock of the assault. He had been playing quietly in his room, trying desperately to stay out of his father’s line of sight, knowing that when he came home from a night out it could only end badly if he didn’t hide himself away. So he stayed locked away in the bedroom - his safe haven. But it had ceased to be so tonight.
His mother, was as usual, by dinnertime, passed out on the couch leaving himself and Erin to fend for themselves. Jonathan had picked up the empty bottles and stashed them in the trash before his father could see them. On these nights when Patrick came home in a drunken haze, without Gail to knock around, he usually sought out Jonathan to “have some fun”, as he put it.
The headboard now dug uncomfortably into his back. He had pressed himself up against it as far as he could in an attempt to put as much distance between himself and his father. There was nowhere left to run.
The edges of his vision blurred suddenly as he took a blow to the head. It sent him sprawling off the bed. He got to his knees and scrambled backwards until he hit the wall with a muted thump. He was trapped, cowering in the corner. Patrick advanced on him threateningly, but backed off at the last second. “Aw, you’re not worth it.”
He tried to keep still and hold his breath, but he could not stop the huge sigh of relief that escaped. The noise caused Patrick to turn back around, and Jonathan winced at his mistake. This time there was no reprieve. The smacks rained down over and over, increasing in their force. He squeezed his eyes shut against the blows, praying for it to come to an end, never knowing when it would finally stop.
Eventually he was able to withdraw into himself. Detachment was the only way to make it through the increasing episodes. He no longer felt the fist on his face. He only felt the rage building in him until he thought it would erupt out of him like molten lava. It was only then that he realized that he was longer on the receiving end. When he opened his eyes he saw a little boy crouched in a corner, the spitting image of him at that age. Jonathan looked up at his hand and stared in horror as he saw it was raised, poised to strike. He gagged on his revulsion, stifling a scream.