I know it's a pretty lame-ish title, but oh well. So normally, I write Kick stories and one-shots. But this idea came up at random after reading some different Kickin' it stories. Plus, Jace is a really good couple to write about.
Many of the Jerry/Grace stories on here are happy and funny. And Jerry isn't the smartest character ever. But I thought that it would be good to write one about what the couple would seem like in a depressing/dark-ish fashion.
Jerry Martinez's world is falling. He knows this fact is true as he stares at the blindingly white walls of the Dream Center waiting room. The horribly plain color is all he sees as a kind nurse-one he's seen many times on his trips here-walks up to his chair.
"There has been much change," she informs with a sad smile. Her name tag is blurry as he stands, but the name is still in his mind from the past-Maria. She's a plump African nurse who helps patients in their rooms and whatnot. "She's barely eating." Patting his shoulder in an ineffective act of sympathy and empathy, her eyes dart down at him before she disappears around the corner.
Jerry sighs and shuffles down the hall and glares at the scuffed up tiles. He doesn't know why he had gotten his hopes up; every time he came, just the same depressing news was given. The dancer knows that maybe-just maybe- someday his prays would be answered.
His thoughts come to a stop when he's standing in front of a door. Jerry knows this door. It's familiar with its white doorframe, plain grey color, and cool, steel doorknob. He wants to stop his actions, but before he can, the young man's hand is twisting the doorknob and pushing into the room.
With his body leaning against the frame, Jerry takes in all he sees-there isn't much to admire. Boring white walls, wilting flowers on a tiny wooden table, an unmade bed with one solid pillow.
So…painfullyplain. Jerry wonders how anyone could survive in a room with it being this dull and suffocating small space. Then it hits him-if they could survive anything, they wouldn't be here. The whole reason of this place was to trap a person, to let them just sit there like the empty shells they became.
Jerry hears crying and winces as a reflex. Grace cried-no, cries-like that whenever in too much pain. He'd always be there, holding her, consoling her. Listening to it cracks another piece of his broken self. His mouth is dry and gets a sudden cottony feel to it when he realizes he knows too much. Much more than eight months ago. Back when everything made sense and he was blissfully unaware of all the cruel and bad things his-both of theirs, to put more appropriately-future held for them. Maybe this was a wicked punishment, the dancer contemplates. A way for his past to come back and bite him in the butt for all the pranks and schemes pulled in middle and high school. Losing his other half seems too unfair though, too cruel for even fate.
It's quiet again. The cracked sobs no longer explode from down the hall and the air is stagnant again. Jerry inches closer to Grace slowly. At least, he thinks it's her and knows everybody wants him to keep thinking that. But he knows it's not true. This was not Grace. It was the shell of her, an empty body. When he's standing in front of her, looking down at her motionless pale body, his tears nearly spill like two rapid waterfalls.
"So here we are again," Jerry chuckles out pitifully. His weak attempt to cling onto whatever normal minutes he can have with her-imaginary, then so be it.
Grace stays still. So silent and unresponsive that it whips away whatever pride Jerry had left to swallow and makes him spill a few tears. More and more chase the others until he's kneeling in front of her and sobbing into her lap. The coldness of the thin nightgown reminds him of the reality of it all. The world stops as he waits for something. Grace should be telling him to suck it up, remark with sassy comments, hitting his shoulder and rolling her eyes. Something other than just sitting in her padded seat, gazing out the window with glassy eyes, just completely oblivious to the world around her.
Kim thought it was better this way. Jerry himself sees how she possibly was right. Both the blond and brunet know very well how worse the situation would be if their friend was able to be aware of her surroundings. If anything, the Dream Center would only make it worse. Its suffocating atmosphere, senile patients and soulless members would cause even worse reactions than this.
She should be here, Jerry thinks randomly about his friend. Kim had tagged along before, dropping off a tiny thing of lilies. But her appearance had done nothing but attract more glances. The same look all visitors' get. The same look from the people that knew what was going to happen next: the visitor saw the patient, dropped off a nice decoration that was left to gather dust, and then visitor leaves the room to collapse in the old plastic chair and bursts into tears. Nothing was ever new; the same cycle repeating everyday with the same patients held captive in the same walls.
It was the same with Kim, and Jerry always found himself being sickly relived when she let her tears drop. It was sign that he wasn't the only one affected like this, not the only one still stuck on the fading hope of Grace ever getting better. Sitting in the waiting area, crying with one of his toughest best friends made everything seem just the slightest bit better.
"I got into a university. You know the one downtown across the street from that really popular dance studio that only lets rich kids in?" Jerry keeps talking, trying desperately to not let the room reduce back to its original horrible silence.
Finally, he stands and travels to behind Grace's chair. Jerry remembered the rule about being cautious when touching patients and pushed it away as he places his hands on her shoulders. She tenses and he can't be happier. She's responding, on way or another.
"You love water," Jerry thinks aloud wistfully, staring out the same window, eyes getting misty. "Me and you went out on a boat that one time with your dad. He got so mad when we pushed him in and just tossed him a life vest before driving away." He smiles and slides his hand down her arms an inch or two, gazing out the window as if watching the memory play.
Suddenly Jerry can't take it. He stops smiling and lets the memory fade away as he kisses her head and starts for the door. When he turns back and promises, "Everything will get better, I swear," he knows it isn't a lie. The world seems brighter and threads of hope stream back into place.
Jerry's sitting in his car, staring blankly onto the highway when he's startled with the image of Grace and him on the water. He smiles.
Everything will get better, he repeats. And can't help but believe it.
This is finally done. Writing it, I knew it kind of wouldn't make a bunch of sense and people would say they have no idea what is going on. It confused me a bit too so I would just write and stop then write and stop again and again. I've been thinking about doing something as a clarification for all the confusion I know is going to happen, so that will be posted soon, maybe a few days or after this. And that is also my excuse for it being super short.
And please soften the blows about all the mistakes. My computer didn't catch as many as I thought it would, and the ones it did catch I fixed. And this is only my second story done is the present tense but I think it gone along pretty well.
Please leave a review and tell me what you think.